collidescopeeyes

[collidescopeeyes]

Hi !! Any chance that you're going to write about sett or kayn? Just wondering ehehe, I love your fics so much and I always read them time to time. It fills that void in my heart ｡⁠◕⁠‿⁠◕⁠｡

I have an Order of Shadows (Zed and Kayn/Rhaast) harem fic I've been chipping away at! Unfortunately my mental and physical health has been pretty rock bottom the last few months so I haven't been up to writing much. As for Sett, I had a vague idea for a Roulette Wheel chapter where Iso becomes a pit fighter at his establishment while also unwittingly moving in with his mom, leading to Hijinks, but alas it stayed 90% an idea. Please enjoy this random out of context scene from the 10% however

“You're living with my mom?” He hisses as soon as the door shuts, and it is indeed a hiss; there's some animalistic noise rattling in his chest while he speaks that makes it difficult to be sure which word in that sentence he's actually stressing. Maybe all of them.

You shrug so hard your shoulders go up to your ears, equally agitated. “How was I supposed to know?! This was before I even fucking met you!”

He gestures harshly to his ears, then back towards the door to the dining room, pinning you with a wildly incredulous look. “We're the only two Ottari Vastaya in this entire city, you didn't think?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to know that?” You demand. “Why would I assume everyone I meet with fucking animal ears is related!? They could've been fucking…fox ears, or wolves, or something, I don't know, and I'm not going to assume because I'm not about to be some sort of cat-boy racist!”

He squints at you. “Cat boy?” He repeats.

“Cat man, whatever,” you wave a hand at him.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “That's not–whatever, not the issue. You can't tell her. About any of it. You, me, the pit, anything, y’hear me?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Are you asking me to lie to her?”

“I'm telling you to lie to her, as your fucking boss,” he snaps. "It'll break her heart if she finds out."

“Maybe you shouldn't be in a profession that would break her heart in the first place,” you shoot back, scowling.

His lip curls. “Hey, fuck you. What other option do I got, trying to make a decent living for the both of us in this fucking town? You think I haven't been down that road, huh? Who's going to hire a beast-blooded bastard?”

You regret your words immediately. “I didn't mean…I'm sorry, that was a shitty thing for me to say.”

He deflates in turn. “I…fuck.” He turns away, raking a hand through his hair. “Honestly, you're not wrong. She deserves better than being lied to, but I just…I don't feel like I've got much of a choice, y'know? If she knew where the money came from she wouldn't take it, and I ain't going back to watching her kill herself on shit jobs for shit people. Did enough of that growing up,” he says with a scowl.

You sigh. “Sett, I’m historically pretty fucking bad at keeping secrets,” you inform him. “Literally, the only secret I've managed to keep came with a magic shock collar.”

His face scrunches in the way it does when he's not sure if he wants to ask what the fuck you're talking about. “What?”

You wave a dismissive hand at him. “If I talk about a certain point in my life I start…well I can't say what happens, but…y'know what happened to Junbei?”

He blinks. “The bouncer who got glassed? Or the guy who got a razor slipped into his food cuz he was fucking around on his wife?”

You nod. “Yes. Anyway, it's a whole thing, it's not really important.”

“That seems pretty important,” he argues, face scrunch intensifying.

“Anyway, we need to get our stories straight,” you say, blatantly changing the subject. “I've been pretty vague about my work, so I don't think there should be any contradictions, except–” you pause, staring off into space. Then you cringe.

“What? Iso, what?” He asks, alarmed.

You cover your face, groaning. How the fuck are you supposed to explain that she's been trying to set you up with her son? How the fuck were you going to explain that you dodged said set up by telling her you were interested in your cocksure boss, who is apparently also her son? You'd have to leave the country. You'd have to throw yourself into the nearest Void Rift and hope to whatever God had jurisdiction that you didn't fucking embarrass yourself in whatever universe you got spat into next. “Nevermind, don't worry about it.”

“Iso…” he says warningly. You ignore him and go back into the dining room.

[collidescopeeyes]

I ALOVE LOVE HIGN NOON YONE LIKEEER I CANT GET OVER HIS VOICE AND SINGING OMGGGHGG ! SKINSPOTLIGHT IS MY SAVIOR BCOS I CAN LISTEN TO HIS VOICE LINES ANYTIME !! I JUST WISH I KNOW HOW 2 PLAY HIMMM. LIKE THE AURA THAT HIGH NOON YONE HASSSSSS 🙉🙉 ! Also I have enough mythic essence from all the years I've played hahaha I kind of wanna get Mr why R u pointing ur chest at my eyes crow guy 🙈 p.s sorry for rambling and being on anon I'm really shy 🙈🙈

Honestly relatable, I probably would've bought that skin if I had any fuckin clue how to play him lmao 😂 all I do is yeet soul directly into danger and then surprise pikachu face when I die from it. The wiki is also a really good resource for voice lines imo! The ui is a little clunky but I find it easier than scrubbing through a video. Also, absolutely no worries about rambling, i had an arcane rewatch party recently and was non-stop plaguing my friends with Fun Lore Popups irl so I Get It

[collidescopeeyes]

HIIII !! HAVE U SEEN THE NEW PRESTIGE SWAIN SKIN ?? THOUGHTS?? 👉👈

So here's a funny story: I found out high noon Yone existed bc I randomly got the skin in an aram boost and I was so distracted I basically threw all game. If I encountered this Swain skin in the wild it would be so over for me fr. The big fuckoff coat, the salt and pepper hair, the bling, the swagger, and need I say it.....his tits?? 10/10 no notes, literally what am I supposed to do about this except pass away???

[collidescopeeyes]

You plan on continuing your Destiny fic?

Maybe! That fic is very near and dear to my heart, but honestly Destiny as a game has lost me and it's hard for me to be inspired without engaging in source material--I enjoyed Final Shape fine enough but with the grind being what it is there wasn't anything to keep me coming back after I finished the campaign. I would love to give it a proper ending and I've got some very rough scraps floating around for it, but at most it would probably be only a chapter or two to tie things together and close things out.

Also, Destiny lore is insane. I have this paragraph in my notes:

'Before creation there was the winnower (nothing) the gardener (something was) and the Garden (void/quantum vacuum/limitless possibility). Everything was formless, only patterns existed from the Gardener and winnowers interactions. They clashed, the universe was created from the Null Calamity/creation of the universe through collision of other planes of being. The Ancients - eldritch formless energy being from before creation, which happened to escape into reality along with the vex. The Traveller was the first manifestation of the gardener in the new universe.'

I have yet to remember what the fuck this means but I know it was very relevant to the plot somehow.

[collidescopeeyes]

would you be willing to do an f!reader and an unbound thresh (cinematic one) HCs about a researcher of the Shadow Isles (some sort of kind priestess type) who somehow managed to capture his interest bc her soul is unable to be caged and he's intrigued by her fearlessness...

Thresh with researcher!reader

- From the moment you meet it is the world's most intense game of cat and mouse, except you're both convinced you're the cat

- Studying the effects of the black mist on souls is your life's work–it’s an utterly fascinating and unique form of magic and if it can be understood, maybe it can be cured. That being said, studying it isn't exactly easy. The Isles are dangerous at the best of times and much of it has been ravaged by time–you’ve reached a dead end with simple observational means and were hoping you could learn more about the mist and what caused it by speaking to the shades bound to it. Some of them predate the mist after all–surely one of them has something to point you in the right direction?

- Your first encounter with Thresh is actually before he's unbound. Most souls you encounter are either violently insane, largely incoherent or generally uncooperative, so meeting one that can not only hold a coherent conversation but one so knowledgeable about the mist is like a dream come true! The fact that he has a flaming skull for a head and you're pretty sure his lamp is screaming is a secondary concern, you're getting good info here.

- He's very amused by your enthusiasm and probably indulges your curiosity far more than he normally would–it’s pretty rare he meets anyone who doesn't run screaming (which is fair, he’ll acknowledge that). You're the most entertaining thing he's seen in centuries, and waiting around for the Sentinels to kill Viego has been so terribly boring–so when you start packing up your notes and making to leave…well, he can't very well have that, can he?

- Honestly the worst part about having your soul ripped out of your body by ethereal chains is that it really disrupts your train of thought, and you had a great question about interactions with restoration magic you were about to ask. You have a brief moment of looking at your own body, and then there's a flash of light and you're back to normal, at which point you hurriedly thank him for the interview and hightail it the fuck out of there.

- Thresh meanwhile is stunned. Your soul was brilliant, blindingly radiant in a way he's never seen before. Trying to lash it to his lamp was like trying to hold oil with water–it just couldn't find purchase, and by the time he realised what had happened you were already gone. He gives chase, or course, but you survived this far for a reason and you're soon out of his reach, bound as he is to the Isles

- He's obsessed. He wants nothing more than to take that perfect, beautiful soul of yours and bleed it until it's as black and twisted as his. He stalks the Isles hoping to run into you again, but no such luck–still, he's had plans in motion to free himself from the Isles for a long time, and now he just has to wait. He can be very patient, when he wants to be.

- Meanwhile, you're an ocean away writing a dissertation on the Shadow Isles and the metaphysical properties of the mist, having a great time.

- He finds you in a library after he's unbound by complete coincidence, but he is elated. You don't recognize him, of course–he looks human, and you're too focused on your research to bother with some random stranger. Low-key he tries to charm you at first, but you're just like ‘sir I'm trying to work here’ so he has to reintroduce himself. Immediate fascination from you–how does a soul get free of the mist? Is he actually human now, or is it a shapeshifting thing? And oh, actually, could he finish explaining the properties of the waters of life? Your last conversation kind of got cut short when he tried to stab you. Oh no you're not upset about it, most souls you spoke to tried to stab you at the start of the conversation, he was actually very polite!

- He laughs so hard you get kicked out of the library. You suggest coffee instead. He agrees. He doesn't even need to eat or drink.

- His plan is to feed you tidbits of information about the Isles and the mist to lull you into a false sense of security and eventually tempt you into his clutches–after all, if he can't imprison you by force, he could chip away at you until you went to your demise willingly and unwittingly, and he relishes the challenge.

- Meanwhile you're thinking ‘this is great, I'm learning so much! He's definitely going to try and kill me at some point but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it!’

- Normally the idea of breaking someone's spirit is satisfying to him, but the longer he spends with you the more the idea loses its shine–after all, you're so much more entertaining when you're lively like this, and the thought of your eyes going dull and hopeless like all of his other victims makes him oddly disappointed. But still, human lives are so short, and you've become rather dear to him–the best place for someone as special as you would be his lamp, where he can keep your soul safe and enjoy your company for all eternity~

- There's something fundamentally wrong with this man if you couldn't tell. He's possessive, obsessive, and he thinks morals are an unfortunate condition other people suffer from. He has no delusions about what sort of man he is: in life, he was essentially exiled to guarding the vault in total isolation purely because members of his order found him off-putting–there’s something about him that's just Wrong, and he knows that. There was no hiding it when he was human, much less with this veneer of humanity he now wears–but for whatever reason, you don't flinch away from him. Poor sweet girl that you are, you seem to be under the impression he's a person. But still, if you decide you hate him, you probably won't talk to him anymore and that would be a tragedy. Ergo, he’s trying to be Good so you trust him, but he only abstractly understands what Good is meant to be. Surely if he only targets people who deserve it that counts? He doesn't even kill them! He just, y'know, traps them in his lantern and subjects them to untold horrors for a little bit, but he lets them go after and in his experience that seems to scare people pretty straight. He's doing a public service! He's practically a saint!

- Low-key he's stalking you. Like he just shows up where you happen to be whenever he's not off doing crimes against humanity, but honestly in the grand scheme of things it's pretty low on the list of concerns–after all, he's a thousand year old immortal wraith, and while you're pretty sure he's not planning on murdering you anymore, his disregard for social conventions that aren't immediately useful to him ranks somewhere between ‘maybe we can work on a a version of our relationship where I don't get trapped in your lamp for all eternity?’ and ‘when I put you in the special thanks section of my publication, do I just call you Thresh?’ on the list of conversations you ought to have with him.

- He can be incredibly charismatic when he wants to be, so to you he comes off as very gentlemanly if a bit melodramatic. Overprotective like you would not believe, but he generally cedes to your requests and it's sort of endearing how invested he is in staying in your good graces. Weirdly intense at times, but he's an ancient undead wearing the thin veneer of a man so you figure that's to be expected. Still, he's very polite and considerate, and while he's definitely trying to con you into some kind of supposedly benevolent eternal damnation, he's also helping you proofread your paper, so y'know it's actually a pretty decent deal.

[collidescopeeyes]

The only reason I open Tumblr is bcos of ur writing 😶‍🌫️ I'm glad that ur back !! And I hope that ur dogs and u are doing fine/okay !

Aww ty! My poor girl gets her surgery in a few days, but her knee doesn't seem to be bothering her in the mean time. I have bronchitis 🙃 it is Not Fun, but I've got medication

[collidescopeeyes]

love ur work!! just saw aphelios x reader but maybe the reader should be coded gn?? only bc aphelios is canonically gay iirc.

Is he?? I've made an edit anyway cuz it was pretty minor change, but I wasn't able to find anything official looking on the matter in my quick google search, beyond him and Sett being a thing in spirit blossom. Please correct me if I'm wrong though! God knows riot doesn't make finding lore easy 😅

[collidescopeeyes]

glad to see you back!! would it be easy to do like prompts you could reblog and easily answer off of for certain champs? 👀

Prompts are good! I used to do loooots of prompt lists when I was a teenager writing self-indulgent OC stuff, so they hold a very special place in my heart ❤️

[collidescopeeyes]

Hey so I'm kind of in a tm-not-so-good place right now, so if possible can I get a Heartsteel Aphelios x reader who's dealing with a narcissistic/emotionally abusive parent? Or if possible it's Aphelios and their S/O but they also have the rest of the Heartsteel members and Alune to help them through it. As you can see by the request, I'm dealing with this right now and i kinda need the comfort, thank you!

As someone whose dealt with far too much of that myself recently, my heart goes out to you anon ❤️ hope things get easier soon.

---

You have ‘hey, are you awake?’ typed into the chatbox, thumb hovering indecisively over the send button, for a good fifteen minutes before Aphelios messages you. You aren't expecting it–it’s almost midnight, and Phel might be a night owl, but he also has a job. Part of the reason you'd been reluctant to text him–he’s busy, and you'd hate to wake him.

‘You okay?’ the text reads. You spend a moment wondering why he'd ask that, and then realize if he was texting you this late at night he also would have seen your typing notification hovering there for god knows how long. Which also means pretending you're fine is probably out of the picture as well–even if he didn't know you were visiting your parents this weekend, he's always been had a knack for seeing straight through you. May as well be honest, then.

‘not really tbh’ you type back. ‘like I'm fine I'm just…….blehhh. y'know.’

‘Want company?’ comes the immediate reply, because Phel puts sugar to shame. Too sweet for his own good, probably, because he really shouldn't be driving around at fuck o’clock at night to keep you company– ‘I missed you :(‘ comes the follow up text, neatly defeating the argument you were just building up in your head.

‘...can I come over?’ you ask anyway. ‘i don't really want to be at home right now’

‘ofc. I'm already putting my shoes on, I'll see you soon ❤️’

You send a heart back, click your phone off, and stare blankly up at the fading afterimage of the bright screen against your dark ceiling. You have no idea what time you'd gotten home, but you'd had about enough energy to crawl into bed and not much else. As such, you're pretty much still dressed, plus you're pretty sure you have clean clothes at Phel’s place. Even if you didn't, you'd steal one of his shirts to sleep in and Alune would have something to lend you in the morning. You're pretty sure she likes dressing you up, or at least, she has a habit of leveraging her industry connections to get amazing deals on clothes she just happens to think you'd look cute in. Kayn likes to joke she's trying to steal you away from Aphelios.

A knock on your front door startles you to attention, followed by jingling keys as Phel lets himself in. How long had you been zoning out for? He lived like fifteen minutes away, and it felt like it'd barely been five. You drag yourself out of bed as he pushes open your bedroom door, and even in the dim light from the street lamp outside your window you see him smile when he sees you. Immediately, you're wrapped up in a hug, and you feel him press a kiss to your hairline. The anxious knot that's been in your chest ever since you left this weekend eases a little, and you clutch at his hoodie trying to absorb that feeling. He smells like fresh laundry and comfort and home.

“...hi,” you offer after a moment, your voice slightly muffled from where you're pressing your face into his chest. You lean back, reaching over to fumble with your lamp so you can actually see him. “You got here faster than I thought, sorry.”

He shrugs. “I was at Yone’s, the bands having a movie night,” he signs. “We can join them, if you're feeling up for it, or we can just go back to mine and chill. It's up to you.”

You blink up at him. “What movie?”

“The mummy series,” he signs. “Ez is getting super offended, it's really funny.”

You huff a laugh. “That sounds…perfect, actually. You're sure nobody will mind?”

He waves a hand at you. “Of course not, the guys love you.” A smile curves your lips, and he pauses, a fond look in his eye before he ducks his head to press a kiss to your lips. “Not that I wouldn't be happy to monopolize you, but, y'know.”

You laugh. “I think Alune would have words about that.”

He shrugs. “Gotta flex my older brother privileges sometime. You good to go?”

You glance at your still unpacked bag, then nod–that was a tomorrow problem. Maybe the day after. His car is parked outside, still warm from the drive over–he must've cranked the heater for you, because left to his own devices Aphelios wouldn't feel the need for a jacket in a walk in freezer.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He signs as you pull out onto the quiet streets, one hand on the wheel.

You sigh deeply. “It's…nothing new, and I probably should've expected this because this is what always happens, but…I dunno, I was hoping we could have a mature conversation this time? But no, same old song and dance. Nothing is ever their fault, and if I get them to stop deflecting long enough to actually admit they did something wrong, I must only be bringing it up because I'm an terrible daughter who's just trying to hurt them, and then the whole thing turns into a big confrontation when all I wanted was…I dunno, some acknowledgement that ‘hey, that was a fucked up thing I did,’” you gesture vaguely at the dashboard, frustrated, and then deflate with a defeated sigh. He reaches over and squeezes your hand in wordless comfort. You offer him a weak smile. “It's fine. I'll be fine. It's just…exhausting, you know?"

He nods, and with a final squeeze you let his hand go so he can sign “I'm sorry. It's not fair, and you deserve better.” He glances at you, brow pulled together in worry. “If you ever need anything, comfort or company or help, I'm here for you. We all are. Doesn't matter how late it is or how far away you are, I'll come running.”

You probably shouldn't try to kiss him while he's driving. “Thanks,” you say instead, voice soft. “I…can't tell you how much that means to me.”

He smiles, but if he has a reply his hands are occupied pulling into Yone’s driveway. Still, he's not driving anymore, so that makes it fair game to lean across the console to kiss the life out of him.

--Right up until you hear Yone's door open. You break apart, only to see Alune standing on the doorstep, hands on her hips. She signs something too fast for you to catch in the dim streetlight, and then flounces back inside. Phel laughs, and you look at him curiously. “She called me an attention hog,” he signs, chuckling.

You laugh. “Well, we better not keep her waiting.”

The sound of the movie filters in as you enter the house and make your way to the living room, coupled with familiar voices and laughter. “--and codex style books weren't even invented until the Roman Empire!” Ezreal is arguing as you walk in, gesturing at the screen animatedly. “It would’ve been a papyrus scroll!” A chorus of greetings sounds over the tail end of his sentence, apparently dismissing what's no doubt the tail end of a long rant. They're scattered around the room–Alune and Ezreal on the long couch, K'Sante and Yone in the twin armchairs on either side, Sett lounging on the beanbag in the corner and Kayn laying directly on the carpeted floor, ankles crossed on the edge of the couch and watching the movie upside-down.

“He's been going on like this the whole time,” Sett informs you by way of greeting, grinning.

“Someone has to hold Hollywood accountable for their blatant disregard for historical accuracy!” Ezreal insists hotly, before fixing you with a pleading look. “Back me up here, you think papyrus scrolls are cool, right?”

“Pretty cool, yeah,” you agree. Alune animatedly gestures you over to two free spaces on the couch with a beaming grin, which you have no doubt she pulled rank to acquire. Kayn offers you a wave as you step over him.

“I saved some snacks,” she whispers as you settle by her side, Phel on your other. True to her word, she has a bowl of chips in one hand and a punnet of chocolate dipped strawberries in the other. Ezreal tries to sneak one of the latter while she's distracted, only for her to whip her head around and give him a narrow eyed look, to which he immediately begins to feign stretching instead.

“How was your trip?” Yone asks. You must make a face, because he frowns. “Ah. My condolences. Family matters are often... uniquely troubling."

You wince. “It was…not great, yeah. I don't...really want to get into it.”

“I'm just putting this out there, but if you want someone vanished you can just say the word, I know a guy,” Kayn offers from the floor.

You stifle a laugh. “Are you the guy?”

“Me or one of my siblings,” he qualifies. “Depends, how many people you want killed?”

“You cannot keep threatening to sic your family members on people you don't like simply because your father teaches all his foster children martial arts,” K'Sante points out dryly.

“It's not just because of that,” Kayn argues. “It's part of the pact–everyone gets one favor, no questions asked, everybody has to chip in if they can."

“And you…haven't used yours yet?” Yone asks skeptically.

“Nope,” Kayn says cheerfully. “I covered up my fuckups and achieved my numerous impressive exploits by my own merits, thank you.”

“I do not need anyone killed,” you confirm.

“Yet,” Ezreal corrects sagely, only to interrupt himself with an aghast gasp. “He's reading hieroglyphs in the wrong direction!” he cries, pointing accusingly at the screen. Phel puts an arm around your shoulder and pulls you into his side, and like this–snuggled up with him, surrounded by your friends and terrible movie–it was suddenly a lot easier to believe everything was going to be okay.

[collidescopeeyes]

IM GLAD THAT YOURE FINALLY BACK 😭😭😭

Approximately! I did immediately catch a cold and then find out my dog needs knee surgery (which we caught early and her insurance will cover most of, so phew), so it's been a hell of a week. Rest assured I Am Cooking, but like. Braising. Slow n steady at a low temp.

[collidescopeeyes]

Guess whose fuckin sick again

[collidescopeeyes]

HCs of Aatrox as a weapon and a reader who is his user please 😭🙏

Aatrox with wielder!Reader

- Look there's gotta be a whole character arc here before he's in a state to exist around other people. He's a man trapped inside a sword trying to escape the very nature of his existence by destroying the world and by extension himself, thereby trapping himself in a nightmarish cycle of violence and pain with no respite. Like, all he's done for the last few centuries was possess some poor fool, go on an apocalyptic warpath, get killed, and be stuck back in the suffocating sensory deprivation tank of his sword form until someone new picks him up, rinse repeat.

- You find him in sword form, but much like Kayn and Rhaast he doesn't manage to overcome you–except instead of using him to murder people, you just kinda lug him around and show him all the nice things about living (cuz honestly, leaving him there would be kind of fucked up).

- Being put in forcible time out, he very reluctantly is forced to admit that maybe existence isn't all pain and okay, yeah, maybe there is inherent value in life. The hot springs are nice, he guesses. Human, bring him to the hot springs again.

- He's gonna be a huge bitch for a while let's be real, like full tilt raging complete with threats of grievous bodily harm (and he can be a real bitch when he wants to be, have you heard some of his voice lines??). At the same time, he's terrified you'll leave him so he still tries to go the ‘temptation of power, just give in’ route, and generally emphasizes how powerful he is and how useful he can be.

- Eventually you go from being you, human, to his human. He hasn't had a social interaction that did not end with someone dying in literal centuries, much less a friend. Like he still bitches but instead of threatening you, he starts threatening anything that threatens you, which he defends with the idea that he's the only one worthy of killing you. You learn not to take it personally, your giant sword with a disembodied heart set into the hilt is a tsundere, this is your life now.

- ‘ive only had this human for two months and if anything happens to them I'm killing everyone in this plane of existence and then myself’, but to be fair that last part was his plan to begin with. Anything even begins to threaten you and it's fire and brimstone from him–unfortunately, he can't exactly do much as a sword other than beg you to use him to slaughter anyone who so much as says a harsh word to you.

- The longer you wield him, the more he becomes attuned to you–which is new to him, because Darkin usually don't have a wielder without them becoming a full host for this long, and even then the wielder is usually trying to suppress them. With you, Aatrox gradually gets his senses back–unlike Naafiri and Rhaast, his sword form doesn't come with eyes, so he basically has to magically parasitize your vision and see through your eyes. Gradually this extends to other senses too–hell of a shock to him when he starts to feel your pain. Eventually, he gets his own sense of touch back, which is kinda weird since his body is a sword now, but it's still leagues better than eternal numbness. Even if he's not really sure how to process that he can feel you literally holding his disembodied heart in your hands.

- His grand plan was to accumulate the blood from every rare instance you were forced to use him to defend yourself in order to build himself a new body and then kill you with it. The plan is amended to killing you in your sleep, cuz he likes you, even if he doesn't want to admit it. It takes literally until he's standing over you that he realizes ‘I don't….actually want to do this,’ and he has zero follow up plan or capacity for self reflection so he just stands there like a weirdo. And then you wake up.

- “Are you gonna kill me?” “....no.” “Okay, cool, I'm going back to sleep.”

- You start travelling together like normal people then, except y'know, being in human form is pretty taxing so a decent chunk of the time he just...stays a sword. This is a huge gesture of trust from him, knowing that if you happen to put him down he'll be put back into a prison of his own body, but also you've kinda earned his trust in this matter since you could've left him to suffer at any point before now and didn't. He still acts like it's some sort of honor for you to be wielding him, but you've also earned his respect by this point so the ‘puny human’ talk has pretty much evaporated.

- His protectiveness gets worse once he has a body to act independently with, but not as much as you'd think–he respects your wishes and genuinely doesn't want to upset you, so he won't hurt anyone you don't want him to (...too bad)–though he will intimidate the everliving fuck out of anyone he thinks is a threat to you. He does actually still have a pretty robust sense of right and wrong–it’s just that he didn't give a fuck about it in the face of escaping the torture of his existence. Now you're that escape, and he'll defend you with the same visciousness that he killed literal gods with.

- He does not have any frame of reference for romance. He only sort of remembers being Ascended, and barely if at all being human before that–and in all that time he was a soldier through and through, devoted to his duty above all. He doesn't even know that he's caught feelings. Like he wants to be close to you all the time (and other urges he shall not be examining), but that's normal right?? You've been carrying him around for months now, surely it's because of that. He also hasn't had anyone touch him without also trying to kill him in centuries, forget that he can actually feel it now–surely that's why the slightest touch from you makes his heart skip a beat (you can literally see it, it's right there in the sword). It's normal. He's being super normal. Denial is just a river in Shurima.

- Point being, the man is oblivious, and even if he wasn't, he has no fucking idea what he's doing and he has a boatload of unresolved self-esteem issues. You're gonna have to make the first move and you're gonna have to be very forward and upfront with him. He's gonna freeze, Aatrox.exe is working overtime; internally he goes from ‘tf do you mean I have feelings’ to ‘tf do you mean I have feelings for a human’ to ‘well obviously this is my human, she's special, why wouldn't I have feelings for her’ to ‘me?? Why the fuck does she want me??’ to finally deciding that he would have to be clinically insane to turn you down (putting aside that he thinks there's a very real chance that he is in fact insane, but he's working on that).

- Not that he knows how to be in a relationship. Mutual respect and communication can go a long way to figuring stuff like this out, but it's pretty obvious he's out of his depth–he’s struggling to adjust to existing in general, and he's got centuries of trauma and a barely repressed anger management issue. It helps that he knows you're on his side (and that he's probably already made every threat under the sun when you first met), but the man doesn't exactly have a lot of practice dealing with his frustration in a healthy way. Patience is essential here–he’s trying, and he will get better with time and understanding.

- He's actually super self conscious about his body–in his eyes, it's a twisted, filthy reminder of what he used to be. Without a compatible host, Darkin bodies start to break down without fresh blood to sustain them, and he can't help but compare it to how he used to be before the Void war. His form is stable with you, but he still has a whole lot of negative associations. You've got your work cut out for you if you want to convince him he's not some sort of malformed disgusting beast–he’s very much of the opinion that you're some kind of saint for wanting him despite what he looks like.

- Despite all that, physical closeness is a big thing in his culture, plus he's touch starved and will take any opportunity to have you close. If you're not doing anything he'll literally just pick you up and deposit you on his lap so he can be close to you. If he's in sword form, he'll sulk if you put him down for even a moment. It's funny though, because as much as he passively demands attention like some sort of large spiky cat, he also gets really flustered if you're affectionate with him. He's also a huge tsundere though, so him being flustered mostly involves stammered yelling (he’s actually kind of awkward, when he's not being intimidating–re his joke lines).

- Darkin run hot as a consequence of the hemomancy their bodies are made up of–in particular, the area over his heart is very warm. He doesn't visibly blush per se, but the glow of his heart gets more radiant when he's flustered, and he gets noticably warmer. The dark plated parts of him are hard and bone-like with the slightest bit of give, whereas the red parts feel like normal skin if slightly thicker. He has a habit of only touching you with his unplated left hand–the other one has a lot of jagged edges and he worries he'll accidentally cut you (plus, the plated parts feel less). Since his form is fairly stable with you he can manifest his wings fairly consistently, but he's stuck at a (relatively) meager 9ft tall without absorbing any new bodies. His wings are more batlike than anything, and the webbing is extremely sensitive.

- In Ancient Shuriman custom, marriage is a social arrangement wherein a couple is considered married as soon as they start living together, no ceremony or paperwork required (fun fact: actual ancient egyptian custom!). Most couples have this accompanied with a legalized property agreement, but Aatrox was raised into a warrior caste that doesn't have a concept of private property, and he doesn't currently have much of a use for possessions anyway. This is all to say Aatrox considers you to be married and you have no idea until he offhandedly refers to you as his wife.

- All that being said, he still has an extreme sense of duty to his follow Darkin, being about as close to a leader as they have left after the war and their sealing. He feels an obligation to find a way to alleviate their suffering, either by finding them hosts, undoing their binding into weapons, or finding a way to kill them and have them actually stay dead. It's a grim task and it's pretty important to him to have your support in it, however you want to approach it.

[collidescopeeyes]

hope you've been surviving out there 🙏🙏🙏

I'm doing ok! Had some family stuff happen that had me burnt me right the fuck out for a while, but I'm mostly back on my feet (save for both of my dogs unexpectedly needing vet visits over the last few days, but luckily it turned out to be nothing major). Plan to start posting again sometime in the next few days, assuming my pet potatoes don't find some new and exotic way to stress me out

[collidescopeeyes]

super specific but any HCs for High Noon Viktor with his anti-villain good doctor tragedy and an f!reader angel seeking to help him escape Morde's clutches? 🫣 if you just wanna be fluffy or smutty that is A-OKAY. cowboy love...

I know you said headcanons but something about the high noon universe just Gets me. Like. Mankind brings down heaven by his own greed and picks over its corpse for profit, the Devil's are all here because Hell is too crowded these days, there's a TRAIN to HELL called the SULFUR RAIL, how insanely metal is that?? AND there's cowboys as well!!

High Noon!Viktor with an Angel!S/O

(Suggestive)

It's always warm in the depths of the engine room, the infernal heat of the Sulfur Rail blistering the very air. Still, it's your only way in without attracting the Mechanical Devil's attention, so you bear with the heat. There's few ways onto the Rail without a ticket–likely, the Mechanical Devil didn't think there was any angel left with the kind of grace left in them to bear the heat of hell itself. This service hatch is designed for Viktor’s automatons, clockwork stuffed with the soul of a sinner to make it tick, but you tuck your wings down and squeeze through. The worker's don't pay you any mind–the dead rarely do, even ones denied their rest such as them.

Viktor's study in the tail end of the engine car, all gilded silver and glamor, as if shining the bars of a cage can make it feel like home. You slide open the door, and he's where he always is–hunched over his desk, careful hands busy forging cogs and springs to hold a human soul. He doesn't look up as you slide the door closed behind you. “I don't appreciate interruptions,” he says tersely. “You may tell Mordekaiser that it will be ready when it is ready, and if he sends another messenger he should also provide a bag for me to send their heads back in.”

You lean over his shoulder. “Sounds like you could use a break.”

He fumbles the clockwork in surprise, eyes wide as he looks at you. “Angel,” he breathes, reaching out to cup your face. You press your cheek into his gloved palm, smiling.

“I missed you,” you say softly, reaching up to thread your fingers through his. His eyes flit over your face as if he's not truly sure you're there, bright eyes and pale lashes, before his eyes narrow.

“You know it's dangerous for you to be here,” he says, swiftly standing, his work forgotten on the desk. He grips your shoulders and if you didn't know him, he might even look ominous with how he looms over you, the intent look in his brass-bright eyes.

“No, it's dangerous for me to get here,” you correct easily. “But since I didn't get blasted out of the sky on the way, I figure I'm in the clear. Nobody ever comes to visit you, I hear, though if that's the attitude you take I ain't surprised.”

For a long moment, you simply lock eyes, your determination to his increasing exasperation. Then he sighs, sits back down, strips his gloves off and offers you his hands, scarred palms up. His skin is silvery with burns from the infernal metal and rough with the callous of machinery work, and the story of his life in the tips of his fingers. “Do as you will, Angel.”

You place your hands in his, wings flaring bright behind you as you gather your grace–thin and fading compared to ages past, but probably the closest thing this world still has to divinity since Heaven fell. At once, the shackles of his deal appear, burning red with infernal iron around his wrists. If it were any other devil, you might be able to find some loophole, some chink in the binding you could exploit–but this is Mordekaiser, and the runes burnt into his manacles are airtight. His very soul is bound to this train, to this work, by the contract he agreed to, for the last piece of a life's work he didn't realize he'd never get to use for anything but the Devil's bidding. No, the only way free for your love is by the might of Heaven–or as much as you can muster from scavenging its bones.

“What did you find this time, my love?” Viktor asks, watching your light sear into the shackles.

“Bars from the gate, bought on auction. Wings from a fallen angel, not-so-willingly given. Grace on tap from the distillery, and feathers from the fall,” you list. The grandest parts of heaven were already spoken for, shipped east to the cities or south to Hell–or warped into the infernal machine you stand upon. The shackles burn bright as the sun, humming with energy that rises in pitch and brightness until–the runes crackle with red light, and the glow fades as your grace subsides, finding no traction in his deal with which to stay. Your shoulders slump–disappointment is a familiar taste in your mouth, but that doesn't make it any less bitter.

Viktor turns his hands upwards to catch yours, clasping your hands. “It’s alright,” he says, voice soft. “I'm alright.”

“I'll get it,” you swear, voice low and full of promise. “I swear. I'll get you out of here.”

He pulls you in, and you go willingly, settling into his lap and letting him wrap you in his arms. “It is enough that I get to spend this time with you,” he murmurs into your hair. You lean back, wings flaring for balance, and reach for the clasps that hold his mask in place. He kisses you as soon as the gilded covering is put aside, and you never much felt at home in Heaven but you think this is what it was supposed to feel like. Like warmth and hope and love, like there isn't anywhere in all of creation you'd rather be. You card your hands through his hair, and he leaves burning kisses down your throat. His hands drift to your thighs, and you yelp as he stands suddenly, your wings flaring for balance as you cling to him. He doesn't go far, depositing you on bed in the corner.

“Vik–” you begin to say, only to pause as he sinks to his knees before you, hands warm on your thighs. Your skirts are rucked up and the picture he makes is a pretty enough one to make you flush, what feels like down to your wingtips.

“I have divinity in my bed, Angel,” he murmurs against your skin as he kisses your thigh right above where your stockings end, gazing up at you from under those pretty eyelashes of his. “It's only right I worship, hm?”

[collidescopeeyes]

~ Masterpost ~

Rules + Commission Info

Viego:

General headcanons (SFW + NSFW) | How he confesses | Taking care of sick!Reader | Random smut (NSFW)

Swain:

General headcanons (SFW + NSFW) | Softy!Reader who'll throw down to defend him | How he confesses | Missing his handmade lunches after a fight | Rejecting a confession for your own good |Reader refuses to get glasses | Reader beats him in strategy games | Taking care of sick!Reader

Pyke:

General headcanons (SFW + NSFW) | How he confesses | Rejecting a confession for your own good | Reader goes on the list | Sailor!Reader likes making bets | Finding out super competent!Reader can't swim | Taking care of sick!Reader

Yone:

General headcanons (SFW)

Neeko:

General headcanons (SFW)

Renata:

Softy!Reader who'll throw down to defend her

Viktor:

High Noon!Viktor with an Angel!S/O

Aatrox:

Headcanons with a wielder!S/O

Heartsteel:

Helping you study

Fics:

Time is a Roulette Wheel

F!Reader x Various

Summary: Turns out that Runeterra isn't the only place that has a Void. Plucked from your world into one of a video game with nothing but stolen time powers, an inability to die and a middling recollection of lore, you're prepared to do just about anything to get back home again. You just have to find the right Champion to help.

Read the whole thing on AO3 here

Prologue

Viego: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Pyke: 1 | 2 | 3

Swain (WIP): 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

[collidescopeeyes]

Ok I think it's time I make a masterlist, navigating via tags is....... bad

[collidescopeeyes]

I hope youre doing fine, Will you write Renata and Swain with a femreader who easily cries when someone insult her but if someone insult Renata or Swain they would totally fight that person. Like she cant defend herself but will totally fight hair by hair someone who insult them

Renata and Swain with a softy S/O who'll throw down to defend them

Renata has mixed feelings; on one hand, your protectiveness is very endearing and let's be honest, kinda funny–like a mouse squaring up to defend a lion. It's also very touching that you think she's worth going so far to defend–after all, Renata isn't used to being anyone's first priority, she's used to leveraging their first priority to get them to do what she wants. On the other hand, it's also frustrating–there are a lot of people who have less than sparkling opinions of her, and while she appreciates you trying to protect her reputation, the idea that you'll be in danger of so much as a broken nail sits poorly with her. If you ever got hurt on her behalf there would be no end to her overprotectiveness, and absolute hell to pay for whoever laid a hand on her darling. As such, she'll staunchly maintain that you absolutely should not be getting into fights on her behalf–not personally, at least. You've got bodyguards (she has far, far too many enemies for you not to, especially since you can't fight–but if you'd prefer, they can be so discreet you don't even notice them), get them to beat the fuck out of anyone who badmouths either of you, problem solved. She's been trying to convince you of this since the very first time someone said a harsh word to you and you burst into tears–there’s not a chance in hell someone makes you cry and walks away intact, but unfortunately she can't be with you all the time so someone has to pick up the slack.

Swain hears you getting into an argument firsthand through his birds, and his first reaction is worry, since he knows you don't react well to confrontation. His second reaction is an icy anger towards whoever is bothering you. Understandably, he's absolutely gobsmacked when you slap that person across the face for daring to insult him, and then immediately clutch your hand in pain. Then he's dropping everything he's doing to go get you, doesn't matter if he's in an important meeting, they can wait. If there's literally any danger of the person being suicidal enough to try and strike back, there's suddenly a giant demonic eyeball staring them down, and that scares them off pretty quick. Once he's sure you're okay and he's had a moment to collect himself, he'll very calmly request that you do not do that again. Harsh words don't phase him–you being in any kind of danger does. He understands how frustrating it is to hear someone insult a person you care about–there have been exactly two people stupid enough to badmouth you to Swain's face, and they conveniently were used as scapegoats for Swain's other political machinations (he’s very efficient–why not get revenge and profit at the same time?). He appreciates the thought and he's more than a little touched you'd go so far, but still, your safety is the most important thing to him.