#League of Legends one shot

[lightdangerr]

PINK - Vi

Warnings: Mild +18. Hints. Fluff. You get a good beating.

notes: I'm not used to write this kind of things (+18), I hope you like it.

You watched the redhead hit the wall, you couldn't help but bite your lip as Vi's muscles flexed. You looked like a hormonal teenager, and it embarrassed you a little.

──────Do you enjoy the view?──────She asked when she felt your gaze on her, you looked at her with a smile.

──────Yes and much──────You answer seeing her smiling mischievously, she approaches you, looking at the jacket that belonged to her put on you, she extended her hand to your cheek caressing it and going down to your collarbone, slowly lowering it again to the sweater's zipper. You smack her hand making her laugh at the sight of your blush──────Bold.

──────I want to take off your jacket──────That increased your blush, you were used to her flirting, but whenever she trains it makes you so hormonal.

──────Then do it-──────You spoke up and gave yourself a mental slap as she grabbed the zipper and pulled it down, she opened the jacket kissing your neck, leaving light hickeys in the process, making you gasp helplessly, she stopped and you let out a snort.

──────And I'm the bold one? ──────I ask in your ear and then bite your lobe. You gasp as she breaks away and puts on her jacket.

She winked at you again moving closer to you, ready to kiss you, you stepped forward escaping from her arms and winking at her.

──────Si and much──────You answer seeing her smile mischievously, she approaches you, looking at the jacket that belonged to her placed on you, she extended her hand to your cheek caressing it and down to your collarbone, slowly lowering it back down to the sweater's zipper. You smack her hand making her laugh at the sight of your blush──────Bold.

──────I want to take off your jacket──────That increased your blush, you were used to her flirting, but whenever she trains it makes you so hormonal.

──────Then do it-──────You spoke up and gave yourself a mental slap as she grabbed the zipper and pulled it down, she opened the jacket kissing your neck, leaving light hickeys in the process, making you gasp helplessly, she stopped and you let out a snort.

──────And I'm the bold one? ──────I ask in your ear and then bite your lobe. You gasp as she breaks away and puts on her jacket.

She winked at you coming back towards you, ready to kiss you, you stepped forward escaping from her arms and winking at her.

──────Not there prize today, rosita──────You ran to the place where Caitlyn was.

She looked at you giving you a little smile to look around again──────What are you doing, watchman? ──────You ask leaning against the wall.

──────Surveying ground.

──────Always on the defensive, hottie──────You looked at Vi, who approached Caitlyn, you just watched with your blood boiling in jealousy at the attention she was giving to the watcher, you looked in another direction noticing a silhouette, you frowned as you walked along the edge.

──────Liz What are you doing? ────── Caitlyn asked as she noticed you walking along the edge without looking down. You shushed her, watching for any sound, Vi grabbed your hand, fearing you might fall, you let go, running into a pipe and up onto the roof of the house straight ahead, you heard Vi behind you and Caitlyn calling their names.

You continued your run until Vi inadvertently lost sight of you, I looked everywhere trying to decipher where you had gone.

Instead you ran and ran until something crashed into you and knocked you to the ground.

What a stupid fall that was.

You got up defensively, recognized that person as one of Silco's henchmen, threw punches and hit and missed. Thanks to the glow it made the opposing blows hurt like hell but you still stayed on your feet.

At least until he hit you hard in the stomach, you coughed blood, you were out of energy, about to fall, when the opponent went to throw another blow you gave another being rewarded by one in your jaw, he took you by the neck hanging you, you coughed for air, you moaned trying to get loose, you saw blurred and your senses were dulled.

From one moment to the next you fell to the ground, coughing and gasping for air without stopping, you looked straight ahead and saw Vi hit the man without stopping. She got up giving one last kick to the unconscious man, she ran towards you checking your wounds, she was talking to you but you didn't really hear much of what she was saying.

──────¿Mhm?, Yes it was me, I'm sorry──────You were hallucinating, Vi took you in her arms firmly and started walking back──────Shh, I want to drink myself unconscious too. Damn vice──────You laughed a little.

Vi listened to every one of your hallucinations, laughing internally at some very stupid and funny ones until you talked about some girls, saying how sexy they looked.

And no, that was not allusion, not unintentionally. That was on purpose.

Vi's grip tightened on your legs, you laid your head on Vi's chest, drawing pictures on top of the fabric.

──────You look so... Damn sexy──────You fell unconscious, Vi took your pulse in concern.

The blow to your stomach and jaw were too much, even more so when that guy had glitter in his system.

When she arrived she left you on a bed, going for a first aid kit, she treated your wounds carefully trying as much as possible not to be so rough, kissing your cheek as she listened to the moans you let out because of the stabbing pain throughout your body. She was missing one and she was sure that it was the one that hurt the most, she lifted your shirt up to the level of your breasts, seeing the big bruise and blood on your stomach, she sighed.

She kissed the edges carefully as she wiped away the blood, she stopped the instant you squealed bringing your hand to your stomach, Vi took you in her arms, caressing your head as you coughed a little, you opened your eyes a little, closed them and hid your face in the redhead's arms. You hit Vi's hand still drowsy.

──────Don't touch──────Your voice had come out hoarse and dry, Vi shook her head.

──────Remove your arm──────Ordered softly looking at you, I took your arm away from your stomach. I put the absorbent cotton over the wound listening to you inhale sharply, trying to be as careful as possible.

You only mumbled incoherently, and even bit the redhead's toned arm slightly.

It didn't bother her, in fact she was used to you biting her.

The cotton touched the center of the wound, making you let out a small scream, which was immediately silenced by the redhead, who kissed your lips with little delicacy, continued healing the wound without separating her lips from yours, she didn't want and neither was she going to let you scream when more minions could be near.

He had finished treating the wound, only needed to put gauze, when he was about to separate from you, you leaned up again to catch his lips, Vi did not refuse and continued the kiss with more rudeness, his hand stopped on your torso sticking you more to his body. The kiss was getting hotter and hotter, her hand touched every part of your body without getting to the sore spots.

The door opened before she could reach any further. Caitlyn opened her eyes like saucers as she swallowed in that at the intimate moment the contrarians were having.

──────Yo... I'm sorry──────Before they could speak, the blonde was already gone.

──────You almost always interrupt us──────You muttered listening to the affirmative sound of your partner, you laughed to then take your hands to your affected areas to greater severity, emitting a groan.

──────Rest──────Murmuro leaning back against the wall at the same time that carefully attracted your body until you had it on top of hers, you smiled resting your head on the chest of the redhead, listening to her heartbeat, you closed your eyes hugging her against your body, something that she returned with the least possible force──────Admit that you scared me──────You emitted an 'aww' leaving a kiss on the tattoo on her neck.

──────I'm sorry rosita, I didn't mean to──────I sounded like a tease but the second thing was true, you didn't mean to scare her. And the truth you blamed on your curiosity and desire to be in a fight. You leaned better on her body letting her put the gauze on your stomach.

[diorkittys]

somethin’ sweet before i go ˚ ♡ ⋆｡ vi + fem!reader

synopsis : when your arrest turns out to be an attractive, arrogant zaunite who’s, obviously, had a bad night, there’s one thing she asks for before being turned in. c’mon, can’t you give her something sweet before handing her to a cold cell?

—TW : kinda hate fucking , fingering , dom!vi , afab , post jinx attack

“hey, princess, any chance you’re sweet enough to loosen these up a bit?” your pinkette prisoner grunts, rolling a kink out her neck.

your expression is nothing short of unimpressed for the taunting games your newest problem has come up with. glaring up from your paperwork, you bit the inside of your cheek in frustration, “quit with the pet names—do you find your situation funny?” you turn around to face the arrogant zaunite, cuffed hands extended behind her back. you found it rather annoying how nonchalant she was—or worst, she found this amusing. “you are being detained for assault,” you continue, “that’s a night in jail, ‘sweet stuff.’” mocking her previous taunt.

she just scoffed, but it was far from being insulted. a sly smirk and dangerous blue eyes peaking beneath cherry strands looked up at you.

“ya’ think i’m sweet, princess?”

you hear the familiar clanking of metal rubbing against each other, bringing attention to her restraints.

“undo the cuffs and i’ll treat you sweet all nigh-“ her prurient statement cut off by the force of your forearm knocking into her chest, subsequently shoving her against the wall.

“you forget yourself, trencher,” your arm jabs in the smug, although rather charming (and quite attractive), outlaw’s chest, and her eye twitches in a wince. “you’re in my territory now—it’d suit you well to not make a fool of me; i’m sure you’ve been taught the same in that… mess of a city across the bridge.”

your tongue held venom as you almost seemingly spat out the insult like it was truly sickening to speak of. there’s an unspoken challenge being held between the both of your glares. you tack on a huff from your flared nostrils to seal the conversation and to warn the zaunite in front of you from talking back.

but as the tense silence subsides, the cherry-haired woman draws out a teasing smirk, scoffing again, “ever been to the undercity, sweet-cheeks?”

her question seemed more rhetorical than anything. you didn’t answer, clenching your jaw, keeping your eyes fixated on hers as to not give a look of submission. she took your quietness as a ‘no’ and raised a brow,

“thought so.”

she leaned her head in closer, as close as your arm would allow—although, there wasn’t much distance to set you apart anyways. her eyes lidded now as your confidence wavered from the almost predatory air hung around her; like when a lion, hidden in the tall grass, gets a perfect angle of their prey.

“they’d eat that pretty, little ass up as soon as you stepped foot beyond that bridge.”

you gasped, quietly, eyes widened at her obscene words. you could already feel your body betraying you, blood involuntarily heating up the plump of your cheeks.

the arm held sturdy against your prisoner was now weak, a second thought; not to her, no, that was accordingly.

calloused hands snaked their way to your waist, armored with enforcer gold, a symbol of integrity to wear, resolute.

your eyes flicked to the (god, she is attractive) woman near inches away; you were trapped in a lion’s den, she was already staring back at you.

“how di—when did you…”

so much for standing your ground—your stuttering voice gave it all away.

“what? get those things off?” she chuckled, motioning back behind her, “you were right ‘bout one thing, princess: i learned a whole deal in that ‘mess of a city’.”

she near whispered your quote, not hushed, but emphasized, troublingly so. her hands wandered, dangerously, coming to settle at the plush of your hips, hips that had you bent atop her. a deft thumb pushed pass your attire and gently circled into your bare skin.

“are you… are you gonna hurt me?” you pressed your lips in a fine line, apprehensively awaiting a dreaded answer.

but to your surprise, she paused, then snorted, and in a quick motion, she manhandled you to sit on her lap. you yelped in shock, your hands were rigid against her chest that you were so very close to now; stiff as a board as you feared for the worst.

“can’t a girl want somethin’ sweet before you send me to a cold, hard cell, huh?” now the finger in charge of exploring your supple skin came to swipe at your plush bottom lip. “but if you want it to hurt i can make that happen too.” her voice was sultry, thick with an insatiable desire.

your proximity gave you a chance to see the small initial tattooed on her cheek, “vi.” you spoke out loud, really only for you to memorize.

vi smirked, “yeah, princess? don’t wear it out just yet.”

your brows furrowed, pursing your lips; you tried to move, but vi had a firm hold on your hips that just wouldn’t let up… (not that you even tried that hard). “piltover station will be here soon… we can’t—i can’t be seen like this; this is unprofessional.”

“when’d you make that call?” honestly, vi was barely listening to your reluctance and excuses, busying herself with unfastening your gold belt that you hardly even noticed.

“an hour ago.”

“then we have an hour to ourselves. c’mon, do you really think ‘proper piltover station’ is any more worried about a call for an undercity scum than the rest of the hundred they receive a day? they’re preoccupied with the councilors after that attack… seems to me like they left you out the loop, hot stuff.”

you took offense to her insulting jab at your importance, disregarding her sing-song mockery of addressing piltover station. you reached for her wrist that was unbuttoning the blue fabric of your enforcer two-split skirt, “what is that supposed to mean?”

she took no notice to your grip and pushed aside the outer garment, glancing back up at you through that addictive, crimson hair. she gave a dry smirk, “didn’t mean to rile you up, princess—just meant that i could treat you better than them.”

that betraying flush tickled your cheeks once again, and you, rather hesitantly, let way of your grasp, allowing her to do what she needs.

she snorted, in an amused manner, tapping your thigh, “sit up.” how shameful it was for you, an enforcer, to take commands from anyone else—let alone an… undersider. yet, here you were, standing upright as she told you to, albeit a little more eager than intended; you hoped she hadn’t noticed.

she noticed.

her legs spread out on the chair, making her appear even larger than her stature gave her credit for. she bent over, resting her elbows on her thighs as she pulled at the hem of your khaki shorts. you assisted and looped two thumbs at the waistband to shimmy down your legs. your shorts pooled at your feet and vi leaned back to admire the sexy sight she had in front of her with a grin on her face.

a pretty enforcer, nervous as can be, with a half-undone uniform and pink, lace panties exposed just for her. what a contrasting view. you were captivating. already trained to take orders like a puppy, she’d think in her crude mind; you’d be her good girl for a while, you’d be so good for her.

with two fingers, she motioned for you to come sit back down on her lap; the way her legs manspread was inviting enough. you obliged, holding onto her broad shoulders.

those engrossing fingers came back to handle your hips, slowly moving to cup the mound of your ass and kneading. you huffed, painted nails digging into her trapezius.

“ya’ like pink, princess?” she mentioned your cute, lacey panties; although, now stained a darker shade.

your eyes flickered up to her hair before timidly searching anywhere else to keep your focus busy. vi found that cute, not admitting that that turned her on way more than it should.

“i don’t disdain it.” you purse your lips, “and quit calling me that.”

vi chuckled, “but you’re poised, like a princess.”

“you have no idea of me.”

“well, i know you’re risking your title just so i can get you off,” fingers go to trace the hem of your panties, her middle drags along your clit muffled by the fabric. she grins, “and by the looks of it, you’re enjoying the thrill.”

you gasp at the sensation, a feeling your pussy was aching for. “is it because you know we might get caught? geez, princess, you into that kind of thing?” she almost laughs at you, but not to mock you; she finds that hot as fuck.

adept hands push the annoying polyester to the side. fingers, rather spider-like, creep over your throbbing cunt; middle and index gather your pooling slick to act as lube as she glides over your clit.

you bite your lip to suppress a moan. you find your legs begin to tremble, being forced open by her own, keeping you spread for her to do as she likes.

“i didn’t know topsiders could be so dirty.” this time she does laugh. she rubs at your clit long enough for your heart rate to pick up, long enough for your head to find stability on her shoulder, long enough for you to become a mess in her hands… but, not long enough for you to get off just yet.

vi reaches down to your neglected hole, pressing her index atop it, deep enough for an audible squelch to echo through your office, which in turn makes vi groan. you mewl, nails digging deeper into the muscle of her back.

“not so poised now, though.” she mutters, mostly to herself. with your dripping slick, it takes nothing more than a swift movement for vi to slide her index inside you, bottoming out knuckles deep. you keen, arching off her chest. the scratch from her bandages only added fuel to the fire.

“fuck.” vi’s grip on your hip strengthens, almost certainly leaving a prominent bruise later. “do that for me again, princess.”

and she didn’t have to ask because as she pulls her finger almost fully out, tantalizingly slow, she greedily shoves it right back in, curling the tip of it to hit in that, god, that perfect spot you know so well.

and, again, you keen, long and guttural—like a silent scream. subconsciously, your pelvis bucks into her hand, searching for more than you could even take.

after a few minutes of this, vi deems herself your voice and determines you’re ready for two. she pulls out entirely, much to your dismay, teasing you with a pause.

you brace yourself for something that never comes, and you huff, slightly pushing yourself up off her shoulder,

“vi… don’t st—“

and she stuffs her middle and index into your pretty, impatient pussy.

“ah!”

“who said i was stopping, pumpkin? we just started.” you slam your head back to its assigned spot.

vi thought she was right in this moment: you looked a complete and utter mess. it was one thing to fuck a pretty girl, it was another thing that she had a topsider, an officer—someone who, to piltover, was a woman of dignity and honor… a rich, privileged somebody who hated zaunites, found them filthy and worthless…hunched over her shoulder with a sopping cunt you were practically begging her to abuse. now that’s ironic. (and was you coming undone for her maybe a little bit of a victory for her hatred of topside, that she was degrading—fucking someone so noble?)

“shit, baby,” vi cursed, biting her lip. her whole train of thought did nothing but make her more horny, and she pumped extra hard this time, making sure even the graze of her knuckle filled you up.

“when’s the last time someone’s fucked you like this?” she chuckled—you hated her smug little laugh.

you sneered, just not before you moaned into the crook of her neck, breath fanning over her black-inked tattoos. “that’s, fuck, none of your concern, underside.” you spat, but, really, your words held no weight, not like this.

“hey, no need for the name calling, princess; if you’re a virgin too that’s totally fine—honestly kinda hot.” she teased, grabbing the mound of your ass to raise you up and slam back down on her fingers. you cried, your hands instinctively reaching up to tangle in that (rememberable) cherry hair.

“i’m not!—i’ve had—ugh! i’ve done this plenty of times… not that, ah, you should need to know.”

“oh yeah? you fuck a lot of your inmates then?… or is that just my privilege?” vi leaned into your ear, knowing that’d get you going. and what do you know? it did.

and you would’ve argued back, head picked up and everything, had she not curled her fingers the way she did or twist to find an ever better playing field or, god! even the lechery in her voice had you toppling over, had you right there! yes, fuck, right there!

“fuck, vi, right there! keep going! yeah, right there, ugh!” you moaned, legs shaking, trying desperately to close and hide away from how fucking good this felt.

you bucked into her hand and you didn’t have to tell vi twice because she was already pumping extra hard and faster than before, with a combination of her thumb rubbing circles into your swollen clit.

“shit, princess. almost there?” she already knew the answer. she was groaning as if she was fucking herself; just the pure sight of you, of this, was enough… although, she’d need to engrave this memory into her brain and use it later to get off herself (she could use this picture of you to get off for years it felt like).

“vi!”

you sang like gospel, pulling her hair like you’d fall if you hadn’t. you came hard, right on her bandaged fingers and she road you through it until the only thing you could hear in the room was the lewd, wet noises coming from your hole.

she stuffed you full of your own juices and at that point, you couldn’t tell if that or her hands were more filling.

you were both panting, one more than the other. vi hoisted your left leg over hers to hold you bridal style as you settled down. bringing her hand to the light, she pulled apart her middle and index to watch your slick web between them and she weakly laughed.

blue eyes looked over to the gold, industrial clock you had sitting on your work-desk, reading a quarter til’ 12. she sighed, picking you up with her before setting you on the chair you had originally handcuffed her to.

“looks like i gotta go, princess.” she feigned innocent, as if this whole interaction was a drive by. one by one she picked up discarded clothing and crouched at your legs to dress you back up. you, too tired to protest to being treated like a child, let her dress you like a doll, even buckling up your belt.

you watched as she went to write something on a piece of sticky note paper you had sitting by your confidential files before turning to walk out the door, running a hand through her hair.

“you can’t leave—you’re… you’re under arrest.” there was no confidence in your tone, just a fucked out raspy voice.

vi stopped before leaving, hands in her pockets, “tell ‘em officer kiramann already came to pick me up, they won’t give you trouble.” she threw the hood of her red jacket over her head, reaching for the doorknob.

“oh, and… meet me at my place if you wanna do this again… okay, princess?”

[sunsburns]

i couldn't help myself and wrote a quick blurb for my girlfriend vi with one eye open (allusions to smut, no explicit smut.)

vi could’ve sworn she had something good going on for her. something consistent. she was so sure she had found it in the pit.

it was there, hidden somewhere in those fights. the way her whole body felt hot when her chest was freezing over. that heat was what she was searching for, the warmth. whether it be the ache in her fists, the blood soaking her bandages, the sweat on her skin or the black paint that's started to stain it.

the ache was consistent, it kept her stable.

besides, the drinks were strong enough to numb it. vi liked the drinks. loved them, really. the drinks weren't going to leave her, drinks weren't going to change.

drink. fight. drink. sleep. drink. fight. drink. sleep.

see? consistent.

the drinks brought a warmth to her, a burning, but warm enough to keep her sane. warm like the way the sun would beat down on her skin in those few weeks she spent in piltover. she liked the sun. vi missed it sometimes. but warm, warm like the way her old cell used to get if she beat that old punching back enough times. warm, similar to the way the tears run down her cheeks. warm, the way your hands used to feel against her skin.

those feather-like touches, tender, as if you were afraid you'd hurt her if you pressed too hard. you couldn't hurt her, you could never hurt violet, no matter how hard you tried. but you still tried not to, even if you knew you couldn't even take her a in fight, it was just your way of nature. you were tender, like a bruise. you were warm, like the sun.

and you used to kiss her the same way. soft lips, warm breath, and how it used to tremble when you got nervous or flustered. the way you used to press your lips on her cheek, smiling at the way you watched the pale skin grow rosy when you pulled away. she'd grin at you, a little dazed, a little giggly, before reaching for you, pulling you close and kissing you deeply.

again. and then again. and again.

she used to kiss you.

fuck yeah, she used to kiss you and that used to cause a fire to roar in her chest. and she loved to kiss you. she loved the ache you put in her chest, the way her heart used to beat too fast. holy shit, she loved to kiss you.

and she used to kiss you over and over again. kissed you sweetly, kissed you with fever. and she'd kiss you until the both of you were breathless. until you're squirming on her lap, gripping her shoulders, nails barely biting the skin but she loved the faint sting nonetheless. she loved the way you were too flustered to ask for what you wanted.

vi loved the way you looked at her whenever she asked you: "what do you need?"

she loved the way the corners of your lips would twitch in annoyance, a scoff puffing from between your lips as your skin warmed up even more. "c'mon, vi."

she used to laugh.

she used to laugh at you, at they way you got shy sometimes, but still bold enough to bring a hand to her face. bold enough to press your thumb against her lower lip, parting it, running it over her teeth before you mumbled, "want you to touch me. please."

she used to never say no to you. vi could never find it in herself because you used to ask so damn nicely.

you were warm, like the way a fire would burn in the winter, glowing embers. she loved your moans, the little cries you made, the faces you pulled, the salty tears she used to kiss away.

you made her feel warm. a warmth she'd been looking for since it was taken from her all those years ago. that similar warmth she used to feel whenever vander closed the bar for a few hours so he could take her, powder, mylo, claggor and ekko to the edge of zaun so they could watch the sun set behind the buildings of piltover.

you made her cheeks warm, her blood burn, and her heart used to ache for you. she used to ache for you.

she used to call your name in low groans, in your ear, just for you to hear. just so you and no one else could hear the way she yearns for you, shaky breaths against your burning skin. no one else needed to hear how she used to say your name like some kind of prayer under your tender touches.

and how tender they were, delicate. you used to treat her that way, when vi was used to punches, blood and broken bones, you treated her delicately, kissed her delicately, lips soft and pillowy, tongue slipping past her parted lips, mouth swallowing her sighs.

vi's hands, rough to the touch, scarred, blood-stained and permanently bruised at the knuckles, used to find a home in your hair, used to curl against strands and tug hard enough to make you whine against her mouth. she loved that sound.

she loved how you were nothing like her.

how even with her unworthiest hand, her lips ready to smooth that ache with a tender kiss, you never hesitated. and you loved her.

and you found a way to keep her warm. you kept her warm.

so warm. so loved.

and to be warm is what vi aches for.

so god be damned if she drinks until that dying fire in the pits of her stomach reignites. because at least those drinks burn. they burn and they blister, and she thinks they might be turning her to ashes but it's the closest comfort to warmth she's gotten since you'd left.

[huntfeld]

A Jealous Heart in The Neon Glow

Pairing: Jinx x Reader

Summary: In the neon-lit chaos of Zaun, Jinx grapples with her growing jealousy as the reader's bond with Ekko stirs possessive feelings she can no longer suppress.

———

The dim glow of Zaun's neon lights filtered into the small hideout, casting the room in a flickering array of pinks and blues. You sat cross-legged on the couch, a makeshift workbench cluttered with mechanical scraps sprawled out before you. Jinx was perched on the armrest, twirling a wrench in her fingers like a baton. Her signature manic grin was nowhere to be found, replaced instead by a peculiar tension that made the air feel heavier than usual.

"So," Jinx began, her voice lilting like a razor sliding across silk. "You and Ekko seem real chummy these days."

You froze mid-tweak on the contraption in your lap, the question catching you off guard. "Uh, yeah. I guess. We've been working together on that glider project for a while now."

Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, the wrench stopping mid-spin. "Oh, glider project. Sounds riveting. Is he, like, your new bestie now or something?"

You set the tool down and glanced at her. The playful edge to her voice was thinly veiled, barely masking something rawer, sharper. You knew Jinx well enough to recognize it: jealousy. It clung to her words like oil to water, a dangerous undercurrent you couldn't ignore.

"Come on, Jinx," you said carefully. "You know it's not like that."

She leaned closer, her face now inches from yours. Her cerulean hair framed her features, the usual mischief in her eyes replaced with something more vulnerable—though she was trying hard to hide it behind a cocky smirk.

"Not like what, exactly?" she asked, her voice dropping to a low murmur. "'Cause from where I’m sitting, looks like you’re getting all buddy-buddy with him, leaving little ol’ me out in the cold."

Before you could respond, a knock at the door interrupted the moment. You glanced over, recognizing Ekko’s voice calling out from the other side. You stood, feeling Jinx’s eyes burning holes into your back as you opened the door.

"Hey," Ekko greeted with a grin, holding a toolbox. "Thought I’d swing by and drop these off for the project."

"Thanks," you said, stepping aside to let him in. The tension in the room shifted palpably as Jinx remained on the armrest, now glaring daggers at Ekko. She didn’t bother hiding her displeasure, the wrench in her hand tapping rhythmically against the leather.

"Hey, Jinx," Ekko said with an easy smile. "What’s up?"

"Oh, y'know," she replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Just watching my best friend here get all cozy with someone else. Super fun."

Ekko raised an eyebrow, his gaze darting between the two of you. "Uh, okay? Didn’t mean to intrude."

"You’re not," you said quickly, shooting Jinx a warning look. "Ignore her. She’s just being… Jinx."

Jinx scoffed, crossing her arms. "Yeah, ignore me. That’s what everyone does anyway, right?"

You sighed, turning back to Ekko. "So, about that glider prototype—"

Before you could finish your sentence, Jinx was suddenly in front of you. Her hands grabbed your collar, yanking you down just enough for her lips to crash against yours. The kiss was anything but delicate—it was desperate, raw, and filled with an intensity that made your knees weak. The world seemed to blur around you, the only thing grounding you being the warmth of her mouth and the tight grip she had on your shirt.

When she finally pulled back, her eyes locked with yours, burning with a mix of defiance and vulnerability. "There. Now you know," she said breathlessly. "You’re mine. Got it?"

You blinked, your heart pounding as you tried to process what had just happened. Unable to help yourself, you smirked and replied, "Yes, ma’am."

Ekko let out an awkward cough from behind you, clearly unsure of where to look.

"Uh, I… should probably go," he mumbled, quickly retreating to the door. "Catch you later."

The door closed, leaving you and Jinx alone in the electrified silence. You stared at her, still feeling the lingering heat of her kiss.

"Jinx," you started, your voice shaky, "what was that?"

She crossed her arms, her bravado faltering as she glanced away. "What do you think it was? I… I can’t stand watching you with him. It’s like… it’s like my chest is gonna explode or something. I hate it."

Your heart ached at the raw honesty in her words. You stepped closer, gently placing a hand on her arm. "Jinx, you don’t have to feel like that. There’s no one else. Just you."

Her eyes snapped back to yours, wide and searching. "You mean that?"

You nodded, your thumb brushing over her wrist. "Yeah. I care about you. A lot. More than anyone."

For a moment, she looked like she might cry, but then her signature grin slowly crept back onto her face. "Well, duh," she said, though her voice cracked slightly. "I mean, who wouldn’t fall for this?"

You laughed softly, pulling her into a hug. She stiffened at first, then melted into your embrace, her arms wrapping tightly around your waist. The faint smell of gunpowder and oil clung to her, mixing with something uniquely hers.

"You’re not getting rid of me now, y’know," she mumbled into your shoulder. "I’ll blow up anyone who tries to take you away."

You pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes, your hand brushing a strand of blue hair from her face. "I wouldn’t want it any other way."

The two of you stayed like that for a while, the neon glow painting your world in shades of pink and blue. For once, the chaos of Zaun felt far away, and all that mattered was the girl in your arms and the unspoken promise of what lay ahead.

———

[visbacktatto]

viktor x assistant!reader

you were always too worried about viktor. you couldn't help it, not when he seemed so passionate about ruining himself for the sake of his research on hextech. someone had to take care of him, if not himself, you.

in the beginning it was difficult, when jayce brought you to the lab viktor gave you a studying look, sizing you up, deciding almost immediately they didn't need help, not yours, not from anyone.

but jayce had it known it was a non negotiable decision, he was getting more and more busy with the council work and viktor was surely exhausting himself with the research, he needed the help and you would be perfect for the part.

and you were, actually, slowly you proved your worth, being quite a genius on tech yourself, it wasn't hard to figure out the little instabilities with the hextech and help with the infinite calculations that came with the job.

and so, viktor started warming up to you, he started with asking for help in little things, like correcting an equation he couldn't seem to crack, checking some new invention that was malfunctioning every time he tried to start it, and every time he had to hide his surprised expression when you actually solved the problem.

so he started respecting you, and then, actually talking to you, letting you know a thing or two about him. how he liked his coffee, how organized he was with the notes on the notebook that he usually showed no one but now he's showing you, how passionate he actually was about giving people access to magic, about providing real change and comfort to the people in need and how far he was willing to go for it.

and you didn't even realize you were falling in love with him until one of those late, late nights in the laboratory, just the two of you working on some new tool together.

viktor was sleepy, clearly, you could see it in his tired eyes, but he was too stubborn to leave the work unfinished, leaned on a desk, being swallowed by the infinite papers with prototypes, he didn't even feel it when he fell asleep, his head resting on the cold surface above his notebook.

but you noticed.

it wasn't rare for him to sleep in the lab, he'd told you that before, you'd seen him early in the morning when you came to start working and he was already there. but it was the first time you saw it happening.

and he looked so beautiful, exhausted, the bags under his eyes profound, but undeniably beautiful. almost ethereal in that brief moment his body relaxed.

and you don't know why, but you reached his hair, your fingers featherlight when they brushed the brown strands, a surprisingly smooth sensation, his hair was soft.

and, yet unconsciously, he leaned into your hand, making you give into your sudden impulse and actually caress his scalp, gentle, caring.

later, when he woke up, he thought it was just a dream.

and from that day on you felt your heart beating fast almost whenever you were together. sitting side by side discussing something, his breath close to your face, his hand brushing yours when reaching for a pen, his knee touching yours under the desk when he was too focused on a new invention to move away, to keep his distant and cool demeanor, he was warmer now.

you continued doing little things for him, bringing him food when he forgot to eat and brushing it off as “i just bought too much for myself, do you want some?”, of course he knows you did it on purpose but he wouldn't point it. besides, he almost found it... endearing.

and on a particularly quiet night in the lab, the only sounds being of viktor's pen on paper and the soft hum of the machines surrounding you, you fell asleep there, for the first time.

the thing is, you were sat beside him, studying some pieces of a tool you've broken down to fix, and the moment you fell asleep your head was drooping to the side.

viktor thought it would give you a sore neck lately. of course it was the only reason he brought you closer to rest on his shoulder... it's not like he felt like he needed you close and couldn't resist seeing you so unapologetically adorable by his side... of course not.

he continued writing, but he was unfocused, the gentle weight of you resting on him occupying his thoughts. he didn't realize he was even moving before he brought you a little closer, his hand securing your waist, all in the name of making sure you were comfortable, he justified to himself.

you stirred, slowly waking up, your senses registering his scent before your eyes opened, he smelled good, like coffee, faint perfume and something indistinctly him. then you felt his hand resting on your waist, his warmth seeping through your clothes. and you could swear your face was warming up.

you opened your eyes, confirming your suspicion, you were resting on him, god you felt so embarrassed. “viktor? i'm sorry, i-” you mumbled sleepily, but he quickly brushed it off with a “no need to apologize, it's okay, you are tired”, his hand dropping from your waist out of surprise to see you awake, “maybe you should wrap it up for the day” he suggests.

you nod, slowly distancing your body from his, and he almost misses it. “maybe i should” you murmur, rubbing your eyes with your hand, trying to shake half of that sleepy haze away.

and you don't even notice that viktor is watching you. his eyes focused on your face, your cheeks looking a bit puffy, cute, even if he'd never mention it. his hand moved without his intent, holding your wrist, “you're feeling well?” he asked, sounding gentle, his accent thick, making your sleepiness almost dissipate by how fast he put your heart to race.

and he was feeling it, by holding your wrist he could feel your pulse picking up. not that he would mention.

“i'm fine i just... couldn't sleep tonight and i got a bit exhausted, i guess” you answered honestly, trying to not focus on his hold on your wrist.

he finally noticed he was holding your wrist so he dropped it. a little embarrassed himself by his actions. why was he acting like that? and before he could think it through he offered, “you can... continue, to sleep here... if it helps” what meant sleeping on him. but he didn't bring himself to say it out loud.

you looked at him a bit confused, and you were confused. what did he mean by that? sleeping in the lab? that was always uncomfortable, even if you couldn't seem to get some real sleep in your bedroom.

but before you could question further he gently pulled you closer, giving you the chance to put some distance between you again if you wanted to. he rested your head on his shoulder again, not saying anything about it, though.

you didn't know what to say either, your heart beating on your ears, loud, so loud that you could bet viktor was hearing it too.

and just when you thought you couldn't get more flustered, he searched for your wrist again, looking right at your eyes, searching for consent. that you understood the meaning. and you just nodded.

he entwined your fingers, a small, faint smile resting on his lips.

and you smiled too, and everything seemed right in the world in that stolen moment of peace.

[queen-of-nightmare-16]

PEACE | Vander/Warwick X Reader

CONTENT WARNINGS - Fluff • Threat • Injury • Mention of death • Brief mention of blood • Season 2 Spoilers! • Cuddling (BECAUSE THIS MAN DESERVES ONE!!)

PAIRING: Vander/Warwick X Fem Reader

SUMMARY: you were once Vander’s wife but believed he was dead after the cannery exploded. Now you’re staying at Viktor’s utopia hoping the machine herald can bring him back to you

WORD COUNT: 1985

——————————————————————————

The commune had been like a fever dream. That something so peaceful could exist in Zaun. Where everyone pulled their weight and shared resources and supplies without ulterior motives. It seemed like a paradise. It seemed too good to be true.

It was almost too much.

In just a couple of days — or was it even hours — your world had been turned upside down.

When Vi and Pow-- Jinx found you, you were both thrilled and sceptical. To see your adopted daughters together again. It certainly confusing to see that they somehow came back together again and with a little girl in tow but they had some information that nearly made your heart stop.

Vander … was alive!

A rasped pained laugh had been your response. It wasn’t possible. You heard the tale: Vander, your husband, died saving Vi. That was it, end of story. It broke you. So much so that you went searching for his body but found nothing. No doubt Silco had it thrown in the Pilt out of spite.

But Jinx was adamant. She claimed she fought some “version” of him in Stillwater, a beast, but it was still him. There was still something inside that recognised her. It was ludicrous. You had half a mind to tell them to leave and let you wallow in your loneliness. But your motherly urge clenched your heart; there was no way you could let them attempt to track this beast alone. Especially with a young child.

So you followed them, deep into the mines with spear in hand. Vi claimed they’d be safe thanks to her gauntlets but it provided you comfort. It had always been your weapon of choice.

After Vi and Jinx had their rather childish fight, the young girl who you had learnt was called Isha, received a bloody nose thanks to Vi’s elbow. You had wiped it clean with your sleeve, offering her a sweet smile as she sniffed but you all continued further in. Until your heart sunk completely when the ground rumbled. A distant roar surged fear through all your hearts, Jinx pushing Isha behind herself and Vi took a firm stance. Your knuckles became white clutching your spear; breath becoming staggered and fearful.

That when you saw it. A glimmer of red in the darkness, growing closer and brighter with every second; the ground trembling from its pounding fists. Jinx attempted to talk to it but nothing stopped its pursuit.

The sound of Vi’s gauntlet grabbing the beasts body before it could reach you caused the bioluminescent plants to light up and that when you became face to face with it. It’s blood red eyes were raging, a clawed paw stretched out desperately reaching out for Isha. It felt as if your heart was breaking all over again. There was an unrecognisable fury. This thing wanted to kill you all. How stupid it was to believe that this was him.

Vi became bloodied and bruised as she fought the beast, Jinx shielding Isha behind her with her gun raised. In a desperate attempt to save your daughter, you joined her in the fight; slashing and stabbing at its body. Yet it did little to nothing to halter it’s anger. It’s body healed at lightening speed.

This wasn’t a fight you could win.

It reared is large paw back, attempting to smite Vi in one swipe. Until you shoved her out of the way towards Jinx and took the hit yourself. It’s large arm smacked you away, your body surging through the air to slam into the wall. A yell rattled past your lips at impact, body feeling like it had just been shattered. You struggled to raise up to your feet until you realised the beasts attention had turned to your daughters. A glob of bloody spit from your mouth regained it, its crimson eyes glaring at your in a furious wrath. As your grip tightened on your snapped spear, you wielded it like you would a knife. You were ready to die here if it meant your girls could take the opportunity to escape. But Jinx halted your determination. She pleaded — no — begged for you to believe her. That this thing in front of you was the man you loved. Your eyes had shut, breathing slow as it leapt; its teeth bared ready to tear you apart.

But when you were face to face with it, so close that you could feel its breath on your cheeks, a sudden glimmer of familiarity befell you. A flicker of hope. Either way, it wasn’t stopping. So you took that chance. You tossed the broken weapon to the side and screamed his name.

Before you knew it, you were wrapped in its large arms. Eyes wide and breath shuddering, your hands slowly crept up to rest on its chest still unsure. But it wasn’t tearing you apart. Wasn’t disembowelling you with its claws. One of its pawed hands rested almost gently to the back of your head, pulling you tight to its body like it would be the last time. You almost wanted to free yourself from its grip out of fear. Until a low grumble from his jaws uttered a single word; causing a wave of tears to flow from your eyes like a waterfall. Your name.

It was him. It was your Vander.

And here you were. In Viktor’s small utopia; praying that this “herald” could heal your husband. Or return his mind to him fully. You cautiously watched Viktor exited from the greenhouse Vander had been designated to; the mechanical man slowly walking away in exhaustion.

“How long do you think this is gonna take?” Vi asked, staring at him in suspicion.

A deep breath heaved from your nose at her question. “I don’t know. In all my years I’ve never dealt with a ‘herald’ before,” you sighed tiredly. “I’ve never dealt with someone coming back from death either”.

“There’s a lot of things we haven’t dealt with,” Vi replied sadly.

She was right about that. It had been a small comfort to you, knowing that if Vander was gone his soul was finally at peace. But now here he was, back from the dead and twisted in his own body for whatever sick maniacal reason. Your brows furrowed in anger as a certain person invaded your mind. “I’ll kill Singed if I ever see him,” you swore, teeth coming close to grinding at the mere thought of that so called ‘scientist’.

“You’ll have to get in line,” Vi quipped, her soft small smile falling as quickly as it formed. “I’m gonna head to bed. You coming?”.

“I’m … I’m actually gonna go visit him. See how he’s doing,” you informed, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. With a soft nod, Vi watched as you walked away towards the greenhouse.

There was still a wave of nervousness as you reached the door but it faded away when your gaze fell upon him. A few soft grunts huffed from his curled form, lying on the ground with a sorrowful look on face only for his head to perk up at the sight of you.

“Hey,” you greeted, shutting the door behind you. Vander rose up slightly, watching you with his new mismatched eyes as you sat down next to his hulking figure. You offered him a honeyed smile, stretching your legs out and leaning back against a pillar. “Any … any change today?”.

Vander snorted sadly in response and glanced down to his paws. Your hand quickly stretched up to cup his jaw, turning him back to look at you; your thumb gently stroking against his cheek to sooth him. “It’s ok. There’s always tomorrow,” you hushed, blinking back a set of tears as he nuzzled into your hand.

You couldn’t help but take in his features, from the sharp fangs to the large ears that twitched at the slightest sound. It made your heart clenched; that sometimes in a certain light or a quick glance you could just see a glimmer of the man you loved.

Almost as if he could sense your change in mood, Vander’s eyes opened; staring at you with a tilt of his head that must’ve said ‘what’s wrong?’.

“I’m ok,” you sniffed. “I’m just glad to have you back”.

He seemed to think to himself, contemplating something before shuffling closer to your body. You waited with bated breath, curiously watching as he fell to his side and laid his head to rest on your lap, his back to you and gaze directed to your boots.

Though it brought a smile to your face. Your heart fluttering at the recreation of a moment you and Vander would often share before things went to hell. Whenever Vander was stressed after a long day he would rest his head in your lap, sighing in relief as your fingers would cascade through his brown locks. The two of you would talk for hours, about your day or whatever your were worried about. It was a quiet intimate experience between you two.

“Heh, just like old times. Ey, Vander,” you teased, raising your hand to comb through the fur on his head. Vander groaned out softly, immediately relaxing against you. “Remember when we used to do this when we were younger? You denied it from hell to high water … then Benzo walked in and wouldn’t shut up about it”.

There was a chuff like laugh from Vander as his paw rested itself against your knee, his breath coming out steadier. The both of you fell silent as you thought of your fallen friend. Of all your fallen friends. Benzo. Connol. Felicia.

Silco.

You didn’t have a clue if Vander even knew his brother had passed. You hadn’t found it in you to ask or tell him either. There was so much going on already you didn’t want to bring him more heartbreak. No matter what had happened between them, Silco would always be his brother. He knew Vander long before you did. They played together as kids, worked together as teens, planned a revolution together as men. You knew in some way Vander would be devastated.

With a sigh, you continued massaging his scalp. No point in telling him now. One thing at a time.

“When we’re done here, how about we go away? Leave the Lanes, leave the Undercity. Find somewhere peaceful, somewhere safe,” you suggested. “Tell only the girls where we are so they can visit”.

Vander awkwardly glanced over his shoulder, staring at you in confusion.

“You didn’t think I was just gonna leave ya, did you?” You playfully quipped.

“However many tries, however long it takes; I am gonna stay right by you side,” you promised, leaning down to place a kiss against his brow, his eyes fluttering shut in content. “Like I’ve always said: it’s me and you till the end, big guy”.

When the sun rose in the morning, Vi had woken to discover you were missing. Both Jinx and Isha were still sleeping together in a pile of blankets whilst your bed appeared neat and unslept in. She rose to her feet and made her way over to the greenhouse, carefully opening the door as quietly as she could. Only for her shocked face to fall into a slight smile.

Somehow in the night the two of you had shifted. You were now laid out on your side, sleeping the most peacefully you had in years. Vander’s large arm had placed itself over your waist, keeping you trapped against his large body; his breath tussling your hair every time he exhaled. His massive paw was clutched in both your hands, pulled tightly to your chest. There wasn’t a care in the world to the two of you.

Just peace.

Vi smiled and decided to leave you be, allowing you both to enjoy your own personal paradise for a little longer.

——————————————————————————

First time returning to Imagines/One Shots but what they did to this man broke my heart and I felt like writing something for the first time in ages. Riot, I’ll never forgive you for what you did to Vander!!!

[eatmyheartoutjpg]

Saw your stuff and had to drop a request! Ambessa x psychic reader? Ambessa has heard of reader in whispers because her nation's has never fallen due to readers visions. Ambessa's scouts catch readers envoy and she finds her chance to steal her enemies greatest weapon.

𓇻 𝗚𝗨𝗜𝗗𝗘 ᵃᵐᵇᵉˢˢᵃ ᵐᵉᵈᵃʳᵈᵃ ˣ ᵍⁿ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ;; One-shot. Ambessa discovers a unique prisoner in the enemy's territory and meets the infamous owner of the voice in her head—the one that's been guiding her since her youth. 𝘼/𝙉 ;; I hope I interpreted this alright! And ps, sorry for taking so long, finals are around the corner!!

12.06.24 Masterlist

Ambessa heard a rumor that sent a chill down her spine, one that struck far too close to home. It was said that their current enemy, their ruler, had heard whispering, hearing voices, whispers that guided their actions with an unsettling clarity as if a premonition.

No one knew her secret. Not her advisors, not her family, not even her closest confidants. Since her youth, Ambessa Medarda had harbored a truth she dared not share with anyone—she was the only Medarda, as far as she knew, who seemed to suffer from what she privately called schizophrenia. It wasn’t a diagnosis she could confirm, nor was it a term she fully understood. It was simply the name she gave to the inexplicable phenomenon that had shaped her life.

For as long as she could remember, there had been a voice. It wasn’t constant, nor was it entirely predictable. It was soothing, almost hypnotic, yet undeniably alien. The voice whispered to her, unbidden and uncontrollable, weaving itself into her thoughts and decisions.

At first, she dismissed it as the product of youthful imagination, a quirk of a mind too curious for its own good. But as she grew older, the voice persisted, and she began to realize it was far more than a figment of her imagination.

When she ascended to power, Ambessa convinced herself it was merely the strain of leadership—the weight of ruling a nation manifesting as a peculiar kind of stress. Yet, the voice proved her wrong. It wasn’t an occasional murmuring lost in the haze of fatigue. It spoke with deliberate clarity, uttering words as if it were an unseen advisor lurking in her shadow. Sometimes it gave her advice that bordered on brilliance; other times, it commanded her to act with a conviction she didn’t understand.

At first, she tried to resist it, questioning her sanity and fearing the consequences of indulging the whispers. But the voice was relentless. It didn’t demand compliance—it compelled it, its presence both a comfort and a torment. And the worst part? More often than not, its guidance worked. It seemed to know things she couldn’t, as if it saw beyond the veil of mortal understanding.

As the years went by, Ambessa learned to live with the voice. She made it a part of her, weaving its advice into her strategies and decisions. But she never spoke of it. To the world, she was an unyielding pillar of strength and authority. Inside, she wrestled with the unsettling truth: she wasn’t entirely alone in her own mind.

Now, hearing this rumor, she couldn’t shake the feeling that her long-guarded secret might not be hers alone. What if there were others like her? Or worse, what if someone else had discovered her truth? The voice, silent for days, stirred faintly, its presence a quiet reassurance—or perhaps a warning.

"Find me."

The words brushed against her consciousness like a breeze, soft yet unmistakable. A faint breath fanned her ear, as if the speaker were standing just behind her. But Ambessa didn’t jump or startle. She didn’t whirl around to search for the source of the voice. She had grown accustomed to it, this familiar presence that spoke to her in moments both profound and mundane.

She closed her eyes, steadying herself against the quiet command. It wasn’t the first time the voice had spoken so directly, and she doubted it would be the last. Ambessa had long since stopped questioning its existence or its intentions. The voice was a part of her life, as constant and inescapable as the rise and fall of her breath.

“Find you,” she murmured under her breath, her tone edged with equal parts resignation and intrigue. Where? How? And most troubling of all—why?

"General."

The sharp voice of a soldier cut through her thoughts like a blade, pulling her back to the present. Ambessa blinked, momentarily disoriented, the lingering echo of the voice within her mind fading like smoke.

"We're ready to invade on your command," the soldier reported, his tone crisp and deferential.

Ambessa straightened, her composure solid as stone, the turmoil within her locked away behind a mask. She turned to the soldier, her piercing gaze fixing on him with the weight of authority.

"Good," she replied, her voice steady, unyielding. "Ensure every unit knows their role. We move as one."

As the soldier saluted and strode away to relay her orders, Ambessa remained still for a moment, the weight of the coming fight pressing down on her shoulders. The voice’s words still whispered at the edges of her mind—Find me.

What did it mean? And why now, on the eve of war? She clenched her jaw, shoving the thought aside. There was no time to dwell on cryptic messages or the shadows of her mind. An army was waiting for her command, and she couldn’t afford hesitation.

Yet, as she turned to oversee the final preparations, she couldn’t ignore the flicker of unease curling in her chest. The voice had never led her astray before. But this time, its words felt more personal, more urgent.

She tightened her grip on her gauntlet. The battlefield would demand all of her focus. Whatever the voice wanted, it would have to wait. For now.

The fortress fell like a crumbling ruin. The many banners that used to be prideful were now humiliated as they were cut and stepped into the dirt and mud.

Ambessa stood amidst the wreckage, her armor smeared with blood and ash, her army had finally seized control of the enemy stronghold.

Reports poured in—captives being rounded up, the fortress’s many cataloged inventory and finances, and much more. All of the enemy’s secrets now laid bare. Yet her mind was restless, the whispers from within gnawing at her thoughts.

Find me.

The words had echoed through her mind throughout the ruthless siege, only becoming more frequent as the battle neared its end. She couldn’t dismiss it anymore. There was something—someone—here.

"General Medarda!" A soldier jogged toward her, his face pale beneath his helmet. He saluted hastily, his voice edged with unease. "You need to see this. We found…someone."

Ambessa's brow furrowed, her lips pursing. "Someone? Be clear."

The soldier hesitated, glancing over his shoulder as if to ensure they weren’t overheard. "A prisoner. But not like the others. They were hidden deep within the fortress, in what looked like…a sanctum. Orders, General?"

Ambessa's stomach churned with an unfamiliar sensation—anticipation, or perhaps dread. She gestured sharply. "Take me there."

The soldier led her through the ruined halls, past shattered defenses and bloodied floors. Her army parted before her like ocean waves, respecting her high authority.

The voice within her stirred again, a low hum that quickened her pulse.

When they reached the sanctum, Ambessa halted. The room was dimly lit, its walls adorned with relics and sigils she didn’t recognize, At its center, surrounded by wary guards, knelt a figure—though disheveled and bound— was radiant, an enigma of a human being.

The figure looked up as Ambessa approached, and their breath hitching slightly.

It was as if the air itself grew heavier, the world narrowing to this single, seemingly fragile being. Their eyes—wide with confusion and wariness—held a strange familiarity, though Ambessa knew she had never seen this person before.

But the voice within her surged to the forefront of her mind, stronger than it had ever been.

You found me.

Ambessa froze, her body rigid as the realization crashed over her like a tidal wave. The voice wasn’t a manifestation of her mind, a ghost of her psyche. It wasn’t hers at all.

It was them. This person—this unassuming, bewildered prisoner—was the voice that had guided her, haunted her, defined her.

"Who are you?" Ambessa demanded, her voice low but resonating with an authority that made even her guards flinch.

The prisoner blinked, their expression shifting from fear to confusion. "I don’t know what you mean. I’m no one. Just someone they captured." Their voice held a familiar soft and utterly human tone.

Ambessa’s jaw tightened, her hands curling into fists at her sides. This couldn’t be coincidence. The connection she felt was too strong, too undeniable. Yet you seemed oblivious, as though you truly didn’t know.

But she knew. Every instinct screamed it, every fiber of her being pulling her closer to this person who had unknowingly shaped the course of her life.

"You’re lying," she growled, stepping closer. "You’ve been guiding me. Commanding me."

The prisoner blinked slowly, as if their eyes represented their processing, their confusion deepening into concern. "I don't know you."

The prisoner—you—tugged at your restraints, a habit you've picked up. You knew they would never relent, but it was a tick of sorts.

Ambessa halted, her mind reeling. You weren’t lying—she could see it in your eyes, hear it in your voice. But how could they not know? How could they not feel the bond that had tethered them across years, across battles, across lives?

The voice within her whispered again, a quiet plea that sent a shiver down her spine.

Protect me.

Her gaze hardened, a storm of emotions raging beneath her stoic exterior. She turned to her guards, her decision swift and absolute.

"Take them to my chambers. Unharmed."

The soldiers hesitated, exchanging uncertain glances. One of them spoke up cautiously. "General, are you sure—"

Ambessa’s glare silenced him instantly. "Did I stutter?"

The guards saluted hastily and moved to obey, lifting the prisoner gently to their feet. The figure looked back at Ambessa, their expression a mix of unreadable emotions.

As they were led away, Ambessa remained rooted in place, her thoughts a tangled web of disbelief and certainty. She had spent a lifetime questioning the voice that had shaped her destiny. Now, she was face-to-face with its source.

And for the first time in years, Ambessa Medarda was afraid.

ˢᵉᵛᵉⁿ

[fict1onallyobsessed]

“It’s heavily implied that-”

I CANT LIVE ON IMPLICATIONS. GIVE ME ANSWERS RIOT, NOW!!!!!!!!!!

[redtsundere-writes]

Open commissions!

Jujutsu Kaisen:

Pillow | Cult Leader!Suguru Geto (+18. MDNI)

Dick or Treat | Sukuna Ryomen (+18. MDNI)

Favorite Client | Nanami Kento

Proud | Toji Fushiguro (+18. MDNI)

First Time | Megumi Fushiguro

Ride or Die | Ryomen Brothers (+18. MDNI)

Last Time | Nanami Kento (+18. MDNI)

OnlyFans | Toji Fushiguro (+18. MDNI)

Masiosare | Sukuna x Uraume (English)

Masiosare | Sukuna x Uraume (Español)

Ear Cleaning | Sukuna Ryomen

Ribs | Sukuna Ryomen

Blood Bath | Sukuna Ryomen

Eyes on Me | Sukuna Ryomen

A challenge drabble | Ino Takuma

Off Limits | Gojo Satoru

Temptating | Hiromi Higuruma

First Day | ItaFushi

League of Legends:

Negative Rizz | Heartsteel!Ezkayn

Free!

Sunset | RinHaru

League of Legends:

Out Of My League | Heartsteel!Kayn / Rhaast: Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. (A NEXT PART SOON)

Jujutsu Kaisen

Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen: Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10. Part 11. Part 12. Part 13. Part 14. Part 15. (FINISHED)

Tyrant's Favorite | Sukuna Ryomen: Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9. Part 10. Part 11. Part 12. Part 13. Part 14. Part 15. Part 16. Part 17. Part 18. Part 19. Part 20. Part 21. Part 22. Part 23. Part 24. Part 25. Part 26. Part 27. (ON GOING)

League of Legends:

Heartsteel Members as Iconic BTS Moments

Jujutsu Kaisen

Sukuna Is The Type Of Dad

Nanami Is The Type Of Dad

Choso Is The Type Of Dad

Jujutsu Kaisen:

Tyrant's Favorite | Sukuna Ryomen x Reader

Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen (COMING SOON)

Demon Slayer:

Runaway | Uzui Tengen x Reader

[milksuu]

after that one anon ask, i am on that dad!heartsteel!aphelios brianrot oml

[vi-tamine]

MASTERLIST ʚ ♡ ɞ

only arcane writer <3

n/a: i'll try to write all requests i can cuz i have some resposabilities like uni life and stuff, so i hope u guys can be pacient with me <3

what do I feel comfortable writing with? fluff, angst, smut, soft yandere things, etc

what im not going to write !!! incest, gore, hard yandere

so now you know, if you want to make me requests (here) , I'm comfortable with everything except what I specify!

last update: 11.12.24

works: 5

₊‧ʚ・︵︵ ₊˚๑ ᕱᕱ ꒱✦ ₊ ︵︵・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

⎯⎯⎯ midnight thoughts series ⋆ · butterfly kisses (vi)

⎯⎯⎯ jinx ⋆ · mine and only mine (fluff) · silly pet names (fluff)

⎯⎯⎯ vi ⋆

· after the storm (angst + fluff)

⎯⎯⎯ viktor ⋆

coming soon!

⎯⎯⎯ jayce ⋆

coming soon!

⎯⎯⎯ silco ⋆ · at home (angst, fluff)

⎯⎯⎯ caitlyn ⋆

coming soon!

more characters to be requested!

[aelincreativ]

All For Her

He knew time was passing. How could he not? But during the in-between moments, the moments of pause between moments of forward and back, it felt like time was racing past him all at once and at the same time like each second took a year. Everything happened all at once and never at the same time.

--or--

Ekko's trapped in the Wildrune observing the world around him. Unable to interfere until it's almost too late. But then he gets his chance.

[bekkomi]

Based on that one Korean poster of Macbeth

[huntfeld]

Amidst The Ruins

Pairing: Caitlyn Kiramman x Reader

Summary: After a brutal battle, the Reader and Caitlyn find strength in each other as they navigate the wreckage of Piltover.

———

The night was heavy with the scent of smoke and blood, a lingering reminder of the chaos that had engulfed Piltover. The battle against Ambessa had raged for hours, leaving the city in ruins and its defenders scattered. The destruction carved through the heart of Piltover, with once-proud structures reduced to rubble and streets littered with remnants of the clash. The air was thick with the echoes of cries and the hum of fading Hextech energy. The rubble-strewn streets were eerily quiet, the clamor of battle replaced by an oppressive silence. You navigated through the devastation, heart pounding as you searched for her.

You and Caitlyn had been partners for years—partners in duty and in life. She was your anchor in the chaos, and you were hers. Your relationship had always been a delicate dance between the lines of professionalism and love, a bond forged in shared battles and quiet moments stolen in the midst of conflict. Tonight, you were more than a lover; you were her lifeline.

The sound of a faint groan stopped you in your tracks. There, slumped against a shattered pillar, was Caitlyn Kiramman. Her usually pristine uniform was shredded at the sleeves and hem, with large tears exposing her bruised skin. The fabric was soaked in sweat, smeared with ash, and streaked with both dried and fresh blood, each stain a testament to the ferocity of the battle. But it was her face that caught your breath—her left eye was hidden beneath a hastily tied bandage, its edges dark with blood. Her right eye flickered open as you approached, filled with pain and relief.

“You came,” she murmured, her voice a whisper.

Dropping to your knees beside her, you gently cupped her uninjured cheek, your fingers trembling slightly. A swell of relief and fear tightened your chest—relief that she was alive, fear at the fragility of her condition. For a moment, the devastation around you faded, leaving only the weight of her pain and your desperate need to shield her from more. “Of course I came. Caitlyn, what happened?”

She winced as she tried to shift. “Ambessa… she was stronger than I anticipated. I…” Her words faltered, a rare crack in her usual composure. “I couldn’t protect everyone.”

“You don’t have to carry this alone,” you said firmly, your hands already moving to check her wounds. The bandage over her eye was soaked through, and you grimaced at the sight. “This needs to be cleaned.”

Caitlyn’s hand caught yours, her grip weak but insistent. “There’s no time. Vi… the others…”

“Are counting on us,” you finished for her. “And they’ll need you alive and well. Let me help you.”

She hesitated, then nodded, the fight draining from her. You worked quickly, retrieving a flask of water and clean cloth from your pack. As you tended to her wound, she watched you with her uninjured eye, her gaze softening.

“You’re good at this,” she said, a ghost of a smile touching her lips.

“Comes with the territory,” you replied, keeping your tone light despite the knot of worry in your chest. “Now hold still. This might sting.”

She hissed as the water touched the raw wound but didn’t pull away. Her resilience was both admirable and heartbreaking, much like the time she had stood unyielding during the chaos in Zaun, rallying those around her despite overwhelming odds. Even now, that same spirit flickered through the pain. Once the bandage was replaced, you took her hand, squeezing it gently.

“We need to get you somewhere safe,” you said. “Can you stand?”

Caitlyn nodded, though the effort it took was evident. You slipped an arm around her waist, supporting her as she rose unsteadily to her feet. She leaned against you heavily, her usual grace replaced by a vulnerability that made your heart ache.

As you guided her through the ruins, the destruction around you seemed to echo with the whispers of what had been lost. The fractured skyline was silhouetted against a smoldering horizon, and the scent of charred stone and metallic Hextech energy lingered in the air. Caitlyn broke the silence. “I thought I… I might not see you again.”

The admission was quiet, but it hit you like a thunderclap. “You’ll always see me,” you said, your voice steady despite the emotion threatening to spill over. “I’ll always come for you, Caitlyn.”

She didn’t reply, but her fingers tightened around yours. In that moment, amidst the ruins of Piltover, you made a silent vow. No matter what battles lay ahead, you would face them together.

Caitlyn stumbled slightly, and you pulled her closer, wrapping your arm tighter around her waist. The warmth of her body against yours grounded you amidst the chaos. You couldn't help but smile, a small attempt to lighten the heavy atmosphere. "You know," you said, your tone teasing, "you’ve got this whole mysterious, one-eyed look going for you now. I think you’re starting to pull it off."

She blinked, clearly surprised by your words, but then let out a soft laugh—a rare, light sound amidst the wreckage. "Mysterious, huh?" she mused, a wisp of her usual humor returning. "Well, I suppose I always did have a bit of a flair for the dramatic."

You smiled, but the moment of humor quickly gave way to something more serious. You took a deep breath, turning to face her fully. "But seriously, Caitlyn..." you said, your voice steady and sincere, "Even like this, with one eye and all the scars... you’re still more beautiful than I could ever describe."

She stopped for a moment, looking at you with a quiet intensity. Her breath caught as she studied your face. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

"More than anything," you replied, your voice full of emotion. "You're perfect just the way you are."

For a heartbeat, there was only the two of you—the world around you dimmed as Caitlyn's face softened into a faint, vulnerable smile. The weight of the war, the battle, and the broken city seemed to fall away in that quiet moment.

And then, just as softly, she whispered, "I love you."

The words felt like they belonged to a world far more peaceful than the one you were standing in, but you heard them, and they wrapped around your heart like a lifeline. You leaned in, pressing your lips against her hair, the scent of ash and sweat mixed with a trace of lavender. "I love you too," you replied, your voice firm and sure.

As you continued through the wreckage, you held her close, guiding her step by step toward safety. Together, you would face whatever came next. Together, you would rebuild, one piece at a time.

———

[visbacktatto]

lazy mornings with vi

you woke up to the soft sunlight entering through the curtains of your shared bedroom, the light gave the room a warm golden glow, the ambience almost as soothing as it was to have vi by your side.

it was one of those rare occasions when your days off aligned, so you had the chance to wake up to your girlfriend clinging to you like a lifeline, her strong arms holding you close, her head resting on your shoulder, one of her legs thrown between yours, her breath warm on your skin.

you mindlessly started tracing her arm that rested on your stomach, following the path up her tattoo before entwining your fingers with hers. the gentle movement got her to stir, instinctually holding your hand and squeezing.

“morning, pretty” she murmurs, her voice heavy with sleep but not any less loving, her hand caressing yours, her lips leaving gentle, featherlight kisses on your neck and shoulder.

you close your eyes, letting out a soft, pleased sigh, “morning, love” you murmur, turning on her embrace to face her, brushing her cheek with your thumb “hi” you smile, not able to contain it when you see her sleepy expression.

vi smiles too, leaning to brush her nose on yours, the cool metal of her nose piercing grazing your warm skin “hi” she replies, pecking your lips, forehead, temple, the tip of your nose, her arms hugging your waist to tug you closer.

“clingy day?” your nearly whisper, your hands going to her pink strands that are smelling exactly like your shampoo today, you notice when you lean to kiss the top of her head, but you wouldn't mention, you know she likes smelling like you.

she just hums in affirmation between kisses on your neck and collarbone, her thumb tracing circles on the skin of your side, “slept well?” she asks.

“yeah, it's always easier when you're home early” you answered, your eyes almost closing at the feeling of her lips and you didn't even think before exposing a little more of your neck for her.

“i know, i swear i'm trying to be done by six everyday” she murmurs, looking up at you, her blue eyes glowing under the gentle sunlight in the room but there was a faint guilt behind them. she's always worried about not giving you enough. attention enough, time enough, love enough.

“i know you're trying” you reassure, cupping her face, she immediately leans into your palm, “and you're succeeding, lately we're even having dinner together, that's progress” you chuckle.

that makes her smile again, she loves your laugh, loves to see your face lightning up so close to hers. “if we could i'd love to spend every day just like this. at home, with you... and maybe a dog”.

to that you smile again, “you want a dog?”

“yeah, maybe” she shrugs, “i'm getting a kitten for powder's birthday, maybe we could get a dog for ourselves too. two birds, one stone.”

you nod, “yeah, maybe” you repeated her words, pulling her a little closer as if that's possible, kissing her shoulder, closing your eyes once again to savour the warmth of her body seeping into yours, her bare chest against you.

she relaxes too, closing her own eyes, but holding you a bit tighter, as if you'd try to move away, as if she wouldn't survive not having you right there with her.

and you mindlessly plant kisses on her shoulder, up to her neck, and finally on her lips, starting a tender kiss that she answers to, you could feel a scar on her upper lip and her hands going to your hips to press you together.

she always kissed like it was the first and last time, one of her hands sliding up your body to find your nape and the back of your hair, angling your lips just enough to make the kiss even better. it's practice. she knows you better than yourself at this point.

and you couldn't help but dig your fingers on her back, almost scratching the tattooed skin, you know she likes it more than she'd ever say out loud.

and when the kiss ends it's gentle, her forehead resting against yours while you catch your breath.

then she leans to peck your lips one last time, her hands leaving your body just to adjust the sheets around you, “one more nap?” she offers, a smile on her lips as much as it was on her eyes.

[xyfleurian]

☆ — "Love"

Chosen Pairing: CaitVi

"Would you kill to have Powder back?"

Vi stopped, paused even. She knew Caitlyn had the right to ask that question. That damned question she knew the answer for but couldn't bring herself to say.

The answer was a simple yes, Vi would absolutely go haywire and kill to have her sister back. She would even run towards the hellish depths of the earth just to save Powder, but she couldn't. It was a fact she has known for a while, but couldn't bring herself to accept.

Vi utters a yes to Caitlyn, to which the indigo haired woman raised her eyebrow. She seemed stunned, surprised even. She knew Vi would answer an affirmative, but there was one thing she was confused about.

"Then why didn't you take the shot? She was handing you the rifle, you could've had her back-"

"I couldn't do that to you, Cait," Vi cuts her off. She notices her voice break, but she pays no mind.

"No matter how much I want Powder back, I can't kill you. I can't bear to see you facing my fists, I don't want to do so either," Vi explains, taking pauses with her words.

Caitlyn only sighs, now realizing it was hard enough for Vi to make a choice when they were both abducted. She has completely disregarded how hard it must've been, leaving behind her life in the now nation of Zaun, and adjusting in Piltover. Vi was still an outcast, an outsider who got lucky enough just like Viktor was.

Caitlyn has never thought about how important Vi has gotten to her, and the other way around. In return, Vi couldn't understand how Caitlyn was already important to her during that time. In between a situation where she had to choose one, she hoped to save both her sister and, whatever Caitlyn was to her.

Vi loves Caitlyn, as much as she does for Powder, and she could never kill one of them just to have the other.