fishbonex

Latest Posts by fishbonex

Joel fanfic writers, stop tagging your fanfics with hashtags of other characters!! This is SO FUCKING annoying!! I can't stand going into Ellie or Abby's tags and the first thing that appears is some Joel fanfic. I love, love, love him, but his fanfics should be tagged with HIS name.

you think there’s any platonic fics on tumblr dot com, the horniest website ever lmao

LMAOOOOOOOO they exist, I've seen them! I've read them all and I need more 😭🙏

where are the joel x platonic!reader fanfics bruh

why is literal word porn all that ever trends in the fanfic tags. where has hurt/comfort goneee. where has the stories gone. why is porn the only thing that garters attention…??? why is everyone a literal gooner

where’s the romance gone in fanfiction? the story? it used to be a story, a feeling. now it’s just a mind orgasm and move on to your next brain fart.

i have written hurt/comfort fics over the course of my like 4 accs. they NEVER gain attention as opposed to literal word porn. i’ve seen others post hurt/comfort and i ALSO see if w/ theirs. there IS true hurt/comfort and romance that is posted, issue is they’re pushed so far down the tags they’re impossible to come across

fanfiction has changed so much. it used to be so wonderful and now like 95% of it is just sex. no plot.

i literally have to use c.ai to harness that hurt/comfort feels now since fanfics just only ever care to write about fucking.

Trying to find new fics and all I see is smut

Stop this madness

Union of soul and flesh

Count Orlok x fem!reader

Summary: Sink with great delight into the arms of your lord as the night engulfs you all.

Word Count: 0,5K

Warnings: MDNI, GORE, Orlok is his own warning, bites, blood, mentions of sexual intercourse.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

The wind struggled hard and tried to force its way in through the glass window that you had firmly closed hours before. The night here was silent but it screamed at the same time, an agony that only ended with the first rooster crowing.

You slid your hands down the jagged back of your lord. Your count. Your master. Your love. And your ruin.

He released the fangs that were embedded in your chest with a wet crack, blood running down in a thin line. His gray eyes met yours and you found the courage to bring a hand to the side of his bony face.

"Don't stop." you begged softly and he crawled up until his face was on top of yours.

"Foolish child." the husky voice reverberated and you felt yourself vibrate inside. "I am joining with thy flesh and thou are paying attention to the wind."

The creature moved his hips to fit inside you again, making you let out a soft sigh. He brought his nose to your cheek, inhaling deeply.

You closed your eyes. The candles in the quarters weren't enough to warm your body. But he, he somehow, even with his body devoid of any heat, was able to make you feel like you were burning alive.

It was a heat that consumed your being ever since he first came to you. Before, your tragic existence was pure agony. There was agony now, he burned you so much that you could die, but you would die with great delight at being in his arms.

You turned your head and captured your lord's thin lips in yours, "Forgive me, my lord."

He brought one of his large, calloused hands to your neck and squeezed hard, his long nails almost digging into the soft flesh.

"Thy lord?" he repeated, growling softly. "Do thou find the man whom devour thou in thy bed thy lord, child?"

You moaned audibly and your voice sounded hoarse as you gasped for air to reply, “My love.”

He let out a satisfied grunt and released your neck, moving his hips again and lowering his face to your neck to take a soft bite.

"Say it again." he ordered, thrusting once hard, making you spread your legs wider around his waist. "Say it."

"My love." you sighed, tilting your head back and closing your eyes. "My love."

He moaned hoarsely and moved his hips quickly before licking your neck.

"I had such a beautiful daydream. A night with the starry welken above our castle. Yet all I could regard about was how I wanted to tear thou apart and enter thou so we could be together."

Without any warning, he pulled out of you and crawled lower, placing his mouth on your left breast and pulling hard, a piece of skin came loose and he went back to bite you again.

You groaned loudly and your eyes rolled back, your back arched and you leaned into the evil creature on top of you.

"More." you begged. "More."

He was licking the blood from your skin and took possession of your body again with your desperate plea. He seemed to want to reach deeper with his fangs and you could no longer think straight.

"You and I..." you murmured, "we are one."

He released your breast and advanced on you, taking you in a raging, hungry kiss.

"We are."

URGENT HELP SAVE THE LIFE OF MY CHILD.

Dear fishbonex,

Please Help Me – My Son May Die at Any Moment.

I'm Amal, a mother of three children, living under the weight of the genocide taking place in Gaza. 🍉

Here’s my story, and I’m reaching out with a hopeful heart 💔✨, hoping someone will feel what my family and I are going through.

My son is suffering from a severe and life-threatening injury after being shot by Israeli drones. He urgently needs medical treatment outside Gaza.

Time is running out, and we are facing a critical situation. I am asking for your generosity to help us save him either through a donation or by sharing this urgent plea with others

I beg you, i kiss your feet, to help my son. My son may die at any moment.

I lost most of my family. I'm afraid to lose my son too 🥺

Mohammed deserves to live a happy and healthy life, just like every other child on this earth.

Please Donate now:👇

https://gofund.me/d272a0d1

‼️

"Something's wrong. My right eye can't seem to focus."

- Uzumaki (2024) | Episode 1

"caitvi x masc reader" you must be fucking kidding me.

I loved Ignorance! I really hope you continue it I’m dying to read the next part 😭

hi anon!! thank you very much for reading my story and taking an interest in it 🤍

I will continue as soon as I finish organizing my current projects.

Oh my god, I absolutely love the update you gave to your blog! The colors are so pretty, I just had to say something!

Btw, I love your writing, and I’m so excited for what you have in store for us next (been here for a long time).

hello, anon!! thank u so much!!! this is the best thing i've read today

who lovingly created the new aesthetic of my blog for me was @thesecondhandwoman, my beautiful, beautiful friend 🤍

thank you so much for reading my stories and following my blog, anon 🤍

will u be continuing the vi x reader 💔

hello anon! thank you for your question 🤍

I honestly don't know if a sequel is necessary for this story, but I will write it if a good idea comes up.

Under The Influence (of Regret)

Vi x fem!reader

Summary: An already altered discussion has an even worse consequence.

Word Count: 1,2K

Warning: HEAVY ANGST, mentions of alcoholism, canon-typical violence, arguments, screaming, BLOOD.

note: this story takes place after the end of arcane.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

War and grief have the power to change a person. Maybe for a while, or maybe forever, but change is a certainty.

You didn't escape it, neither did Vi.

You were a constant presence at Caitlyn's mansion, at her insistence. She knew that having a friend around would be good for Vi and for herself. And you didn't want to be alone either, after everything you'd witnessed.

With the periods you spent away from your apartment, it was necessary to always have a small suitcase with your things, despite Caitlyn's insistence that you occupy one of the closets in the room you were assigned.

The problem with taking your clothes was that Vi got into the habit of borrowing them, or just taking them out of your suitcase and then showing up wearing one of your shirts.

But you didn't care. Stealing your clothes seemed like a pastime to her, or pestering you to read to her in front of the fireplace. You didn't mind any of that, since you'd rather have her doing those things than drinking whole bottles of booze.

Vi's addiction to alcohol has always worried you, you closely followed the bad period she went through after the fight with Caitlyn.

She scoffed the first time you suggested she try cutting down on her drinking, got angry the second time, and only softened the third time when she saw how upset you were about it..

The first few months after the war were the hardest, as she grieved over Jinx's death. But you tried to make her comfortable, giving her space and staying close when she seemed more open. The following months were easier, even though the pain was still there, she knew you would be there for her.

With a soft knock on the door of the room she shared with Caitlyn, you waited only a few seconds before hearing permission to enter.

Vi smiled softly as you poked your head in the doorway before stepping all the way in. She was sprawled out in one of the fancy chairs near the fireplace.

"Hey, smarty pants." she held out a hand as you approached.

"Hey, what are you doing?" you rubbed your thumb gently over her bruised knuckles. They were already healing.

"Just... nothing. I couldn't find you and Cait is working in her office." she replied, leaning her head against the back of her chair. "What about you?"

"I'm sorry to tell you, but I need my brown jacket." You replied, seeing her look up at you. "I'm going home today."

"Why?" she asked, letting herself sound fragile, something she rarely did.

"I need to wash my clothes and, I don't know, live in my own house? For a while. Before they kick me out." you shrugged.

"There's a washing machine here, I bet you can use it. And Cait already said you can live-"

"Vi." you interrupted her with a warning tone. "I don't want to talk about this again, you can come see me, or I'll come here when I have time, I don't know. Where's my jacket?"

She let go of your hand and frowned cutely, making her look like a kitten.

"In my middle drawer." she nodded towards the large closet that took up almost an entire wall in the room. "On the left side of the closet."

"In the drawer?" you asked, frowning as you walked over to the closet, opening the doors and looking at the drawers she indicated. "You know where you're supposed to hang a jacket, right?"

"Nonsense," she replied, turning her face back to the fire. "I saved it, that's what matters."

"It must be full of mold, yuck." you joked as you opened the drawer, soon spotting the thick lining of your jacket, picking it up and bringing it close to your face.

You were about to close the drawer again when you saw a smooth surface, glass? Against your better judgment of leaving Vi's privacy alone, you opened the drawer wider and moved the few clothes that were covering the small bottle out of the way. Bottle. A small, light bottle of liquor. Someone had drunk more than half of it.

Your stomach sank and you stopped listening to Vi's voice rattling off a response to your earlier taunt. You lifted the bottle and turned to her.

"Vi, what the fuck is this?" you sounded harsher than you intended. "I thought you were done with that."

She turned her face to you, her expression darkening into anger, "Gimme that." she stood up and walked over to you.

"What's this nonsense?" you took the bottle out of her reach as she stepped forward and tried to take it from you.

"You don't have to get involved in this. Give me the bottle." she held out her hand and you stepped back even further.

"Please, you've come so far. Does Cait know? She'd hate to see you drinking again." you could feel your eyes burning with tears that wanted to come out.

"You don't know anything about me and Cait. Give me that." she advanced on you and you felt anger.

"No!" you shouted. "I thought you-"

"I told you to give me that!" she raised her fist in the air and you felt your head being thrown back hard, making you stumble.

You lost your balance and the things you were carrying fell. Your vision blurred slightly and you soon felt blood running down your now sore nose. Bringing your hand up to your face, you panicked slightly when you saw the thick liquid covering it.

You turned your wide eyes to Vi, who was staring at you, transfixed. Getting up from the ground, you quickly walked past her and stomped away.

The large bandage on your nose was uncomfortable and unsightly. Your nose throbbed and every now and then a wave of pain would hit you, making you curl up even more.

But the pain you felt when you remembered Vi's words was greater, she was right, after all. You knew nothing about her and you shouldn't meddle in her life.

The next day came in a blur and you only realized it when you heard a knock on your door. Groaning in discontent, you dragged yourself over and opened the door a crack.

Your expression quickly fell when you saw Vi standing there, your suitcase slung over her shoulder, your brown jacket in her unoccupied hand.

"What are you doing here?" you spat.

"You... you left your things at Cait's house, I just wanted to bring them to you." she said, her gaze roaming over your face, a hint of worry present.

You reached your hand through the door opening, "Okay, give it to me."

"It's heavy, I'll put it in there for you." she lowered her face and continued to look at you, so that her eyes seemed bigger. "Please."

You huffed and opened the door wider, stepping aside for her to come in. She walked past you with cautious steps as you left the door ajar. You crossed your arms, watching her place your suitcase on the coffee table, resting your jacket on top.

Vi turned to you, her gaze lingering on your face. She looked shy, which was not like her.

"I didn't mean to hit-"

"You said you came to bring my things and you already did, you can go." you interrupted, your nose starting to hurt again.

"I would never hurt you on purpose." she took a step towards you, making you step back. "I didn't mean to do it."

"But you did. And you were right, anyway. I don't know anything about you and I'm not going to interfere in your life anymore." you replied, your voice serious. "Go away."

Vi's eyes shone, the shine of tears she didn't want to shed. She shook her head and walked past you.

Flower crowns and you all

Elphaba Thropp x fem!reader x Glinda Upland

Summary: A peaceful attempt at making flower crowns with Glinda and Elphaba.

Word Count: 0,5K

Warnings: none 🤍

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

"You keep copying mine." Glinda's overly sweet voice grumbled, earning a snort from Elphaba, who was sitting next to you.

"I don't know if you noticed but we're in a field of flowers, all the flowers here look alike." Elphaba said, not bothering to lift her head to look at the blonde girl, who had an annoyed pout on her lips.

"I'm not talking about that, you know. You're braiding in the same pattern as me." Glinda held up the flower braid in production to prove it.

You frowned and shrugged your shoulders even more. The two of them had been arguing since they arrived. Uninvited. You were making flower crowns alone, enjoying the cool breeze of the late afternoon. A moment of peace, away from the typical chaos of Shiz.

But Galinda seemed to have a radar that pointed straight at you, because it wasn't long before she appeared, dragging Elphaba by the hand.

She blinked her big eyes at you and you gave her permission to sit down and join in your activity. Everything was fine, but soon Glinda began to get annoyed with Elphaba's crown.

"That's nonsense! I'm braiding them so they stay firmly attached." the green girl argued, starting to work harder with her hands.

"That's envy." Glinda hummed, pursing her lips so that her dimples were visible.

"Why would I be jealous of the way you weave flowers, Galinda?" Elphaba finally lifted her face to look at her.

"There are many reasons for this. You don't have the ability-"

With a loud huff, you stood up from the grass, dropping your flowers and brushing the dirt off your uniform. Grabbing your bag, you began walking away from the pair.

"Look what you did! You pissed her off," Glinda's voice whispered.

"Be quiet." Elphaba ordered, and turned to you. "Hey, where are you going?"

You stopped in your tracks and turned to them, "To my dorm."

"Don't you want to go study with me?" She stood up, her expression embarrassed.

Glinda hurriedly stood up and stood in front of her, "Don't you want to go try on dresses with me? Or watch me practice with my wand-"

"No, thank you." you turned around and continued walking towards campus with heavy steps.

A few days later, you buried your face even deeper into the book you were reading when you heard Glinda's melodious voice approaching. You squinted your eyes as she let out a happy little squeal upon spotting you.

"There you are!" she exclaimed, then turned to Elphaba. "I told you she'd be here."

"I'm reading." you grumbled.

"Oh, we see." Glinda continued to act excited, pulling Elphaba closer to her. "We just want to give you something."

Elphaba opened her bag and took out a wreath, making you look up from your book, "We finished yours for you, you left it lying there."

You closed the book and stood up, taking the crown in your hands delicately, it was sloppy and had some flaws, but it was closed and someone had placed extra flowers on top.

"Which one of you did it?" you asked, not wanting to cause another fight.

"Both of us! Did you like it?" Glinda asked, looking at you expectantly.

You sighed in relief, finally. They did something without fighting.

"I- yes, I love it, it's beautiful." you replied and Glinda quickly took the crown and put it on you, Elphaba adjusted it slightly so it wouldn't be crooked.

"Oh, you look like a princess." Glinda said, pretending to wipe away tears.

"It suits you very much." Elphaba said, pressing her lips together in a smile.

Oh, how you loved those two idiots.

Sharp thoughts 2/2

Mel Medarda x fem!reader

Summary: Things are starting to turn around again.

Word Count: 0,8K

Warning: insecurities

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

When you realized the way you had spoken to Mel the day before, you wanted to disappear.

What were you thinking? How did you think it was appropriate to talk to a Counselor like that?

Burying your face in your hands, you sighed audibly. Maybe you should start packing your things.

Entering the lab was like committing a crime, walking through the halls was like being wanted. Well, it was all in your head, you knew, in a way. But nothing could stop it from becoming reality.

Losing your privileges and sponsorships, being expelled from your lab and being forgotten were things that could happen if you displeased one of the Council members.

With a dramatic groan, you leaned your head back against the workbench. The richest person in Piltover? You weren't thinking that at all.

At least you were lucky enough not to run into her in the days that followed, which gave you time to think about what to do.

But luck wasn't so great, it seems, because Heimerdinger requested a Council meeting with some of the scientists who occupied the main building. And of course you were among them.

Wearing your formal clothes was still stifling, even after all the time you had been in your profession. Walking and standing in front of the gigantic table with the most important people in the city was even worse.

And there she was. Sitting in all her glory. Her elegant, smooth demeanor was the same, but you didn’t miss the way her expression fell slightly when she laid her eyes on you.

You looked away and swallowed hard, waiting for your turn to speak, which didn't take long because Heimerdinger preferred to interrupt your colleagues whenever he got too excited about their projects.

"Oh yes, you! Come, come closer." he called in his usual cheerful tone of voice. "How are you, dear?"

"I'm very well, professor, thank you-"

"Well, that's great! I've read your latest study, a wonderful thing, I must say." he said, looking around the table, receiving a few nods of approval from the other members. "I hope to be able to read the next one soon, bring it to me as soon as you're done, yes?"

You automatically looked at Mel, since she was the one you took your studies to, she seemed uncomfortable, but remained silent.

"Yes, Professor, of course." you replied politely, clasping your hands in front of you.

"And your engineering projects? I heard from one of your colleagues that you joined him in continuing a magnificent project for the new building—" his cheerful voice was interrupted.

"What engineering projects? I haven't been informed of anything." Mel's voice sounded slightly irritated, different from her usual soft tone.

You turned your head towards her and looked at Heimerdinger again, he gave an encouraging nod and you began to explain yourself.

"It's one of my areas of expertise, which I'm starting to pursue. It's not my project, actually, I'm just going to make a contribution." your voice sounded timid.

"You didn't know? I thought you were her sponsor, Councilor." Jayce's voice came through and only then did you realize he was there.

"I am. One of the sponsors, actually. I demand that your projects be brought to me, it is my responsibility to bring them to the Council." she said it firmly, alternating her eyes between you and Heimerdinger, who just nodded resignedly.

Mel had never spoken to you like that. Giving orders like you were a clueless maid.

"Well." Heimerdinger cleared his throat. "This meeting is adjourned."

You didn't wait for any further orders, turning on your heel and walking quickly back to your lab, letting out a tired sigh as you closed the door behind you.

"Didn't you ever think to tell me you were involved in engineering?" Mel's melodious voice rang out the moment you entered her office in the Council building.

"You never asked me, counselor." you replied, trying to sound polite.

"Won't you stop this?" she raised her voice in annoyance, her pretty face twisting into an angry expression. "Please, we're adults."

You swallowed and nodded, "You're right. I feel really bad... about the way I spoke to you earlier. I shouldn't meddle in your personal relationships."

"You're a personal relationship of mine." she raised an eyebrow. "Don't apologize, I would have been the same way if I witnessed someone having... sexual intercourse."

You felt the back of your neck heat up and sighed, "You were in your house anyway. I'm the one who broke in."

"You didn't broke in, I made it clear that you could come in whenever you wanted. That remains the same." she walked around the table, the clicks of her heels becoming present. "I must also apologize for the way I conducted myself at the Council."

"There's no need-"

"Jayce is a good man, but my relationship with him is... carnal. And business-related." she took a few steps closer. "If that's what's keeping you from me."

"Counselor, I don't-"

"Don't tell me no. You don't want me anymore?" she reached out to pull your hands toward her.

"No one in their right mind would give up on you." you blurted out and widened your eyes slightly afterwards, earning a giggle from Mel.

"Well, that's great then." she hooked her arms around your neck and leaned her face down to you, pressing her delicate lips against yours.

WICKED MASTERLIST

Elphaba Thropp

If the world was ending, I'd wanna be next to you

Flower crowns and you all

Glinda Upland

If the world was ending, I'd wanna be next to you

Flower crowns and you all

I hope she never leaves me, please, God, you must believe me

Caitvi x fem!reader

Summary: Even though the world was ending, Caitlyn and Vi's concern for you was above all else.

Word Count: 0,8K

Warning: mention of headaches, reader doesn't like physical contact that much (only caitvi can), mention of blood, mention of violence, poly.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

Your head throbbing was the first thing you felt when you opened your eyes, followed by dizziness and blurred vision. Letting out a groan of pain, you looked at the thing that had woken you up: the door to your laboratory was open, the warm yellow light coming from outside made you see who had opened it.

The shadows of the two figures entering with hesitant steps were unmistakable. Caitlyn and Vi turned their heads in almost every direction, looking for you, apparently. You rolled your eyes.

Jayce. That nosy gossip. He was always the one behind every intrusive visit Caitlyn made to your lab.

Standing up silently, you stretched your back and walked towards them with a frown on your face.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, your voice hoarse with sleep, watching them turn their heads towards you quickly. Vi raised her gauntlets defensively before her expression softened as she looked at you.

Caitlyn sighed in relief, walking towards you in precise steps and pressed you against her tightly, burying her pointed nose in your neck. You groaned uncomfortably and didn't return the hug. As always.

"Why did you disappear? Look at you, you look so tired." she pulled away but continued to hold you in her arms. "Why is it so dark in here?"

"I work better this way." you shrugged, then turned your gaze to Vi, who was just staring at the two of you. "Why are you wearing gauntlets? Did you come to arrest me? I haven't committed any crime."

"Negligence is a crime, in a way." Caitlyn's firm voice replied and she squeezed your arms lightly. "Are you asleep? It seems like you're not."

"I sleep all the time." you pulled away from her arms and walked back to your workbench. "Why are you acting like I died? I'm here all the time, you know that."

"Jayce told us he hadn't seen you in almost a week. We went to your apartment and you weren't there either." Vi deactivated her gauntlets, which fell to the floor with a loud thud, and walked over to you with an irritated expression on her face. "Do you know how worried you made us?"

"Did you pay attention to what you just said? It took you more than a week to realize I was gone." you joked and let out a mocking sound, which was not well received by the duo, who continued with serious faces. "I'm fine, don't be dramatic."

"You think it's funny? You're going to get killed." Caitlyn crossed her arms.

"Then it would take you another week to realize it." you scoffed.

"It's not funny! Don't you realize we're only concerned about your health?" she took a few steps closer. "Go home and take a shower and rest. Your commander's orders."

Before you could give another sarcastic retort, Vi's strong arms wrapped around you in a warm hug, she brought one of her hands to the back of your head and placed her face on your shoulder. You looked up at Caitlyn in a silent plea for help, but she just smiled tenderly.

You raised a hand and patted Vi's back uncomfortably, but she only squeezed you tighter.

"I'll only let you go if you come with us." Her voice was muffled against your shoulder.

"Okay, okay. I'll go." you grumbled, pushing her lightly. "Let go of me."

She let go of you and smiled big, earning an eye roll from you.

Caitlyn had demanded that you recover at the Kiramman mansion, of course. You hadn't gotten out of bed in a few days.

The civil war in Piltover had left a lot of damage to the city and its people. One of those damages was the heavy bleeding you had from your head after being thrown to the ground with force, hitting your head hard on the concrete.

There wasn't as much blood anymore, but the headaches were terrible. But nothing was as bad as seeing Caitlyn without an eye.

She sat elegantly in the fancy upholstered chair beside his bed and reached out to stroke your arm. Vi came in soon after, leaning against the bed frame with a glass of drink in her hand.

"How are you?" Caitlyn leaned over and brought her hand to her face, sniffing lightly.

"How do I look?" you asked, straightening up to sit better against the fluffy pillows.

"Terrible." she replied with a slight smile.

"Well, at least I didn't lose any eyes." you replied jokingly.

"Damn, I thought the explosion had knocked that rebellious temper out of you." Vi took a sip of her drink.

"You love me just the way I am." you replied.

She downed the rest of her drink in one gulp and placed the glass on the bedside table, leaned over Caitlyn's chair and kissed her gently. Then she walked past her and sat down next to you on the bed.

"You're right." She searched your eyes for approval and when she found it, she brought her lips to yours.

But you turned your face away and grimaced, "Vi, that's gross. It tastes like alcohol!"

Caitlyn let out a loud laugh and climbed onto the bed as well, lightly pushing Vi, who had a shocked expression on her face. "Mine don't taste like alcohol."

oh body horror i love you so much

ALLIGATORRRR

GIVE US PRED VIKTOR FIC

AND MY LIFE IS YOURRS

(Shnddnbdbs i’m so sorry-)

OKAY OKAY FIIIIIINE LOL

Glorious Consumption

Pairing: Arcane Herald Viktor x Reader

Summary: After being found and captured by the feared herald who is ushering in a new world, you realize you have met a terrible fate in which there is no way to avoid.

Word Count: 1393

I wrote this in one sitting because I was so into it and I really hope this is what you are asking for!!!

WARNING: THIS STORY CONTAINS SOFT, SAFE, SFW VORE. IF ANY OF THIS MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE, PLEASE DO NOT READ.

The man who looms before you is anything but a true man anymore. Twin pinpricks of sickening gold flicker and focus upon your trembling form through a twisted mask that splits the face of what was once human in two, separating the shut eyes and the tightened lips. His staff quietly clink, clink, clinks with each step he takes; slow, leisurely, like he knows you have no chance of escaping. Yet still, you scoot backwards, a whispering plea for mercy escaping you with the breathlessness of someone who doesn’t wish to meet their fate.

“Poor little one,” the herald says, voice soft and deep, everywhere and nowhere, rumbling straight through your tiny body and striking into your soul. “So lost, so alone. Did you come seeking salvation? Redemption from the flesh?”

“Please,” you say. “Please. Don’t hurt me.”

“Hurt you? Why would I hurt you?” The herald bends a knee. Despite how gradual his movements are, they still cause you to flinch. “I only wish to heal, little one. Suffering has no place in my perfect world.”

Massive fingers, dark violet and warped by magic, reach forwards. Your eyes widen and you quickly bow your head, staring down at your own curled fists. Tears drip onto the floor and your skin, heart pounding, brain screaming for you to run, run, danger, run. Yet you are frozen, unable to wrench yourself from this fatal spot. The herald has rendered you terrified beyond your capable limits of handling such extreme emotions. Such power radiates from him, Unearthly. Eldritch. Arcane.

Those fingers curl around you, cupping you in a loose hold with warmth pressing against your spine while his thumb grazes your cheek in a gesture of comfort not suiting him. Your stomach does flips when you are raised up, your face scrunching in visible discomfort.

“Shhh.” You vibrate with the timbre of his voice. “Don’t tense. You are fearing a conclusion which shouldn’t be feared at all.”

Your eyes dart around you, flickering to the beings surrounding the herald like a protective shield. Mechanical denizens of perfect abundance, gold and white with dead eyes all staring straight at you. Marks of the newborn god currently holding you are imprinted on their faces: fingerprints signifying their change into something terrifying. You don’t want that. You want to remain you. So you continue to cry, choking on your own sobs. “Don’t turn me into one of them. Please. I-I don’t want to be like them.”

The herald is silent. He moves his thumb to your chin and forces you to tilt your head up. You have no choice but to meet his gaze. There’s no emotion, no sign of anger or pity. He’s just…blank.

“Why do you fear becoming so much more than you already are?” he asks.

“I don’t want to lose who I am. I don’t want to disappear.” You begin struggling just a tad bit, clutching his thumb tight and giving him your most pleading look. “Please. Please don’t make me go away.”

Again, there’s a pause. Then he sighs. “I do not like seeing you so terrified of me. It is…saddening.” He gives you a squeeze you think is supposed to be comforting. “If you do not seek my healing, then I will not force it upon you. I fear I may end up breaking you if you are not willing.”

Relief settles upon you. You want to give him a thousand thanks for sparing you. But he cuts you off. “However…I cannot simply let you go.”

Disbelief shatters your gratefulness. “W-What?! You’re going to kill me?!”

“Did I say I was going to kill you? Worry not, little one. No harm will befall you as long as I am around.” He hums. “I…do not feel comfortable allowing you to wander unsupervised. You could be hurt. Or worse. Plus…” He brings you close, and you feel some sort of inhalation tousle your hair as he somehow breathes in your scent. “You have a tantalizing aura. I feel…I can make use of you.”

“Make use of me?” you echo weakly.

“Your energy. It will give me the necessary power I need to continue the glorious evolution.” He sees the way your face falls, and he’s quick to comfort you. “Rest assured, I will not hurt you. Nothing I do to you will end up with you wounded or dead. It may be a bit…eh, uncomfortable at first, but I think you will grow used to the feeling. I will even coach you through it.”

“Coach me? Coach me through what?”

The herald’s eyes burn. “Being drained.”

You go pale with horror when the middle of his mask slowly splits into a mouth, strings of black connecting between jutting, razor sharp teeth and saliva dripping from the roof like ugly droplets of oil. You stare into the cavern of hypnotic colors that pulse in and out like breaths, drawing you forth with whispers invading your brain, ushering you on, begging, pleading, please please come here come to us we need you we want you please. A long, serpentine tongue slithering out to lick your cheek makes you cringe back with the terrible realization of what is going to happen to you: you are about to be eaten alive.

You scream and flail. Shoving his fingers, trying to free yourself, not even caring if you drop to your death. “Stop! Stopstopstop, please! Don’t do this, I’m begging you!”

The herald ignores you. Feet first you are slipped into his mouth, tongue curling around your legs and slowly bringing you into the hot, moist maw. You grab the ends of his teeth and hold on for life, resisting the insistent tugs of the gigantic muscle. The herald sighs wearily. He brings a hand up and starts to carefully pry your fingers away. You yelp and try to latch back on quicker than he can release you, but he is smart, and quick. In a moment where both of your hands are off of his teeth, he tilts his head and slides you backwards, snapping his mouth shut. You are sealed inside, with no escape in sight.

Screaming and howling and clawing your nails into his tongue, you do everything you can to prevent what is going to happen. But you are too weak, too small, and the herald easily overpowers you. With a resounding gulp, everything is turbulent, and you are pushing past his uvula and down his throat. Psychedelic colors fill your vision, and you lose yourself, screams dying into soft whines. You feel the muscles of his esophagus squeeze you over and over, forcing you downwards, further into his body.

By the time you make it to the stomach, you are exhausted. The colors are gone and are replaced by the dull purple, near black color of his internals. Little spots resembling stars flicker as you are embraced by plush grooves that quiver with each heavy breath you take. You can practically feel the energy leaving you as you stare up at the belly’s faux ceiling. Fear grips you. Tears leak from your eyes.

The herald presses a hand over his middle, feeling you out. When he finds you, he begins rubbing you tenderly. “I can feel you in there. So wonderfully snug. So delicious.” You think you can hear a smile in his voice. “Thank you, little one, for nourishing me. This energy will not go wasted.”

“…I…don’t want to…die…” is all you whisper in reply.

The herald goes silent. His stomach gurgles sadly and moves in, giving you a tight hug. “Hush,” he soothes. “You will not die. In due time, I will release you. Though this won’t be the last time I’ll be swallowing you, I will keep you safe. I will keep you warm. I think you’ll come to love it in there. So don’t be afraid…please.”

You want to submit. You’re tired. So, so tired. His voice is lulling you, and you think you can hear his stomach talking, quietly cooing to you, telling you to sleep. You want to fight for your freedom…you really do…

“Don’t fight,” the herald. “There’s no point. Just let this happen. You are okay. I’ll hold you. I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

Your consciousness slips from your grasp, and you are lost in his consumption. With his presence all encompassing, you pass out.

oh grayson pls save me

Can you do grayson with thief/criminal reader

LOVING A THEIF

Grayson x f!reader

Synopsis: You were a well known criminal, the thief or Piltover. But you were also Grayson’s partner, captain of Piltover’s enforcers. All of this caused your relationship to be complicated, but it became even worse when you were caught by Marcus, and sent to life in Stillwater.

Request: Anon 🤍

A/N: At the top of each divider, I had to add a time skip so it made sense, so just note that.

The rain was a curtain of silver needles, sharp and relentless, drumming against the stone streets of Piltover. The glow of the hextech lamps cast long, wavering shadows, and somewhere in the maze of alleys, you ran. The cold air bit at your lungs, every breath sharp like broken glass, but the thrill of it—oh, the thrill—kept you going.

A satchel slapped against your hip, full of trinkets that would sell for a fortune topside but feed a dozen orphans in the Lanes. Every step you took echoed with the soft clinking of stolen wealth, and for a moment, you allowed yourself a grin. You were good at this. Too good, some might say.

Until tonight.

“Stop! By order of the Enforcers, stop!” Someone yelled, and the single statement made you cringe. But You knew that voice. Low, rough, and full of a desperate kind of righteousness.

Marcus.

The dog that barked far too loud and bit too deep.

You whipped around a corner, feet splashing in a puddle, heart thundering. It wasn’t just Marcus chasing you—there were more, at least three other enforcers judging by the heavy footfalls. You couldn’t see them, but you heard them. Closer now.

Too close.

You knew this part of Piltover too well, knew that if you kept running, you’d hit a dead end. But doubling back was suicide. You needed a way out. A way up.

Your eyes darted around, landing on a crate leaning against the wall. Too low.

The balcony above it? Too high.

But there, a pipe running alongside the wall. Rusted, but it would hold. It had to.

You sprinted for it, tossed your bag up first, then leapt. Your fingers curled around the pipe just as a bolt of pain lanced through your shoulder, a clawing, burning ache. You hissed, fingers tightening as you glanced down.

Marcus, his baton still raised, sneering up at you. “Gotcha, rat.”

You heaved yourself up with one arm, ignoring the throb in your shoulder. Every movement felt like fire, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop.

“Persistent little thing,” Marcus muttered, signaling to the others. “Circle ‘round! She’s bleeding, meaning she won’t get far.”

He was right. The wet warmth trickling down your arm was proof enough.

But they underestimated you.

They always did.

(Grayson’s Apartment—Hours Later)

Blood stained the fabric of Grayson’s shirt as she pressed it against your shoulder, her jaw set tight with a quiet, simmering rage. You sat on the kitchen counter, legs swinging off the edge like a child getting scolded, biting down a hiss with every press of the cloth.

“You know,” she said, her tone sharper than any knife, “I can only cover for you so many times before it’s not just your neck on the line.” Her silver hair clung damp to her forehead, still glistening from the rain outside. “Marcus is sniffing around harder than usual. He’s not stupid, love.”

You tilted your head, grinning up at her despite the sting in your arm. “I’d argue that point.”

Her eyes darted up to meet yours, unamused but still soft in that way only she had. The kind of softness reserved for things you love but shouldn’t.

“I’m serious,” she said, gripping your chin with firm fingers. Her callouses brushed against your skin, grounding you. “You think I like playing both sides of this war? If Marcus catches you again, he won’t drag you to me. He’ll drag you straight to the Council. And I can’t help you then.”

Her voice dropped, and with it, her gaze. She released your chin and looked away, her hand braced on the counter beside you. “I hate this,” she muttered. “I hate this game we’re playing.”

Your grin faltered.

“I know,” you murmured, glancing at the door as if expecting someone to kick it down. “But you knew what I was when we started this, Gray. You knew I wasn’t ever gonna be… clean.”

“Don’t.” Her voice was quiet but firm, sharp as broken glass. “Don’t act like you’re dirt underfoot. What you do for the kids in Zaun — I know why you do it. I know. But knowing doesn’t make it any safer.”

Her hand settled on your thigh, fingers curling lightly, and you leaned into her touch. There wasn’t much softness in your life. But this? This was yours.

“I’ll be careful,” you said, and for once, you meant it. “I’ll lay low for a while.”

Her fingers squeezed your leg.

“Promise me.”

You hesitated, and lying to Grayson was like cutting your own heart out.

“I promise.”

And for a time, you both believed it, but Grayson also knew you could be a bit stubborn with your words.

(Stillwater Prison—A Few Days Later)

You didn’t hear them coming. You’d been too focused on the metal lock in front of you, working it with a thief’s patience. The distant sounds of footsteps didn’t register until it was too late.

A sharp whistle behind you.

“Breakin’ into Stillwater, huh? Gutsy.”

You froze, lockpick still in hand. Slowly, you turned your head. Marcus. Standing there with a squad of enforcers behind him, smug as ever. His baton spun lazily in his hand.

“Y’know, I thought you’d be smarter,” he said, stepping closer, his boots heavy against the stone floor. “Grayson ain’t here to save you now, sweetheart.”

You braced yourself to run, but Marcus shook his head, letting out a little ‘tch’. “Uh-uh. Not this time.”

Two enforcers moved faster than you could react, hands gripping your arms, wrenching them back. You thrashed, teeth bared like a cornered animal.

“Get off me!” you snarled, feet kicking, head swinging. “You think this’ll end well for you, Marcus? You think Grayson won’t—”

“Grayson ain’t calling the shots anymore,” Marcus sneered, stepping forward, his face so close you could smell the rain on his coat. “You think she’s untouchable, but guess what? Council’s takin’ a closer look at her, too.”

That made you pause, heart sinking into your stomach.

“What are you talking about?”

Marcus grinned, baring his teeth. “Her leash just got shorter. They’re watchin’ her now. Which means you?” He laughed, low and mean. “You’re fair game.”

The crack of his baton against your temple was the last thing you felt before darkness took you.

(Grayson’s Office—The Next Day)

“You should’ve told me sooner,” Grayson said quietly, her back turned to Marcus, hands braced on her desk. Her knuckles were white from how hard she gripped it. “I would’ve handled it.”

Marcus shrugged, leaning against the doorframe. “Handled it how, Captain? Council said you’re too close to her. Said someone else’d be deciding what happens to her.”

Grayson’s head turned just enough for him to see the sharp cut of her glare.

“She’s mine,” she said, low and dangerous.

“Not anymore,” Marcus replied, too smug for his own good. “She’s Council property now. Best you stay out of it, Captain. Wouldn’t want them thinkin’ you’re compromised.”

He left her there, fists trembling against the desk.

(The Cell—Later That Night)

The cold stone of the cell pressed against your back, the chains on your wrists rattling every time you moved. You’d lost track of time. Hours? Days? Didn’t matter. You’d been in worse places. But it was the silence that ate at you, gnawed at you like a hungry rat.

She’d come for you. She always did.

But when the cell door opened, it wasn’t her.

Two enforcers stepped in, faces blank, eyes dull. Not Marcus. Not Grayson. Strangers.

“On your feet,” one of them barked.

Your heart pounded harder, faster. “Where are you taking me?”

The other enforcer grinned, pulling you to your feet with a yank.

“Council’s got plans for you, thief.”

Panic set in, wild and sharp. Grayson wasn’t here. No one was.

You fought like hell.

(The Courtroom—In the Morning)

The courtroom smelled of old parchment, sweat, and something faintly metallic — like blood that had dried on stone. Sunlight streamed in from high, arched windows, slanting across the cold marble floors in sharp golden beams. It might have been beautiful if you weren’t chained to a chair, beaten and bruised, with half of Piltover staring down at you like a caged animal on display.

Your head hung low, a mat of tangled hair falling over your face. The left side of your face was swollen, your eye barely open. Your ribs ached with every breath, thanks to Marcus’s baton. Dried blood clung to your lips and the corner of your mouth. But you sat upright. Pride wouldn’t let you do otherwise.

You weren’t going to give them the satisfaction.

“Thief. Subverter of Piltover’s justice. A known criminal with a history of jailbreaks, sabotage, and theft,” the council elder’s voice echoed through the chamber, his words hitting harder than Marcus’s baton ever could. His gaze was cold, unwavering. “Today, the council convenes to pass judgment on one who has stolen not only from Piltover’s coffers but from its dignity.”

He looked down at you like you were already buried six feet under. “Have you anything to say before sentencing is passed?”

You tilted your head, wincing at the ache in your neck. Blood still lingered on your tongue, sharp and metallic. You scanned the room, letting your one good eye fall on Marcus, who leaned against the wall like he owned the place, arms crossed, smug grin plastered on his face.

Then your gaze found her.

Grayson.

Her silver hair gleamed in the pale light, her Enforcer’s uniform pressed sharp and crisp. She stood in the back, silent, arms folded tightly. She wasn’t looking at the council. She was looking at you.

Her face was stone, but you knew her tells. The twitch of her jaw. The hard clench of her fingers against her bicep. She hated this. Hated every second of it.

Your lips curled into a grin, sharp and bloody. “Yeah, I got something to say.” You leaned forward, chains clinking with the movement. “Your ‘justice’ is a joke.” Your voice rasped, raw from disuse, but loud enough to cut through the chamber. “You lot sit up there on your thrones while Zaun drowns. Kids starve. Families break.” You licked the blood off your lip, glaring up at them. “I steal to feed the hungry. What do you do?”

A loud bang echoed through the chamber as the elder slammed his gavel down.

“Silence!” he barked, leaning forward like he’d rip the words out of your throat himself. “This council has heard enough.” His eyes narrowed with the satisfaction of a man who’d already made his decision. “By the authority of the Council of Piltover, you are hereby sentenced to life imprisonment in Stillwater Prison, effective immediately.”

The gavel struck once more, both hard and final.

Your heart didn’t stop, but it did stutter. Stillwater. Not a month. Not a year. Life.

Chains yanked you up as guards pulled you to your feet. Your ribs screamed in protest, but you kept your face steady. No tears. No begging. You glanced up, searching the back of the room.

Grayson hadn’t moved.

Her face hadn’t changed. Her eyes stayed on you, hard, steady, and watching.

(Outside the Courtroom—Minutes Later)

The air was sharp with the crisp bite of morning mist. You stumbled forward, your feet dragging as two enforcers hauled you down the stone path toward the transport vehicle. The sun hung low in the sky, barely warm.

The vehicle loomed ahead, its iron doors wide open, a mouth ready to swallow you whole. It wasn’t your first ride to Stillwater, but it was the first ride you knew you’d never come back from.

“Pick up the pace, thief,” one of the guards growled, yanking your chain hard enough to send you to your knees.

You coughed, chest heaving, ribs burning like wildfire. But before the guards could yank you up again, you heard a familiar voice.

“Let me handle this.”

Grayson’s boots crunched on the stone as she approached, moving slow, deliberate. The guards stiffened at her arrival.

“Captain, council said—” one of them started, but she shot him a look colder than a Zaun winter.

“I know what the council said.” Her eyes stayed locked on you. “Back off. I’ll deal with it.”

The guards exchanged glances, but Marcus wasn’t here to argue on their behalf, so they let go of your arms.

You swayed but caught yourself.

“Thought you’d be happier,” you sneered, letting your head tilt to the side. “Finally got me in chains, Captain.”

Grayson’s eyes narrowed. She strode forward and grabbed the front of your shirt, jerking you close. Her face was inches from yours. To the guards, it looked like rage. But you saw it. The fakeness of her present scowl.

“Oh trust me, I’m happy about your kind being set off again.” She spat, trying not to break her angered mask from that simple statement, especially since she knew it would be taken a lot differently if she meant it.

Her fingers curled into your shirt, her hand pressing firmly against your chest. Against your heart. You grabbed her wrist and growled up at her, letting it slide down until you felt the cool press of metal slip into your palm. Her voice came low, barely a whisper, her lips barely moving.

“Don’t screw this up,” she muttered.

You blinked once. No nod. No words. Just the faintest shift of your fingers, curling around the key she’d pressed into your hand.

“Stop talking and get in line, scum,” she said louder, shoving you back hard enough that you stumbled. The guards snorted as if she’d done them a favor.

But she didn’t look at them.

She didn’t look at you either.

(The Transport Stop—En Route to Stillwater)

The armored transport swayed with every bump in the road. It was cramped inside, just you and three other prisoners. The only light filtered in through the small slits in the steel walls.

Your heart pounded like a war drum.

The key pressed into your palm felt sharper than any knife. Slowly, carefully, you shifted your hands, turning your wrists just enough to feel for the keyhole. Your fingers were slick with sweat, your breathing shallow and controlled.

Click.

The cuffs fell loose.

You didn’t breathe. Not yet.

You glanced up. The two enforcers sat at the front, laughing about something one of them had done the night before. They hadn’t noticed. Not yet.

You leaned forward.

“Hey,” you whispered to the prisoner across from you. His eyes snapped to you, wide and wary. You tossed him the key, keeping your movements slow, careful, and quiet. “Pass it.”

He nodded, hands fumbling as he worked the lock on his cuffs. The others followed suit. One by one, the chains fell away, quite enough to not draw attention.

Once everyone was done, the next bump in the road was your signal.

You lunged.

Your hands were free, your body a storm of fists, elbows, and raw fury. The first enforcer didn’t even see it coming—his head snapped back, his helmet cracking against the wall. The second guard scrambled for his baton, but you caught him by the wrist, twisting until you felt the snap. He howled in pain.

“Move!” you barked, hauling yourself toward the open door. The foggy expanse of the southern coast between Piltover and Zaun lied ahead.

You didn’t look back.

Never look back.

(The Last Drop—Hours Later)

The air inside the Last Drop was thick with warmth and the smell of stale beer. Shadows danced along the walls, lantern light flickering in the dim haze. You sat in the back corner, hoodie pulled low, one eye still swollen despite Vander coming over only minutes ago to dab some alcohol onto it.

The door creaked. You didn’t look up. Didn’t have to.

“Three hours late,” you muttered, taking a sip of water.

“Had to make it look good,” Grayson replied, sliding into the booth across from you.

She leaned back, her fingers tapping the table. Her uniform was gone, replaced with a simple jacket and scarf.

Her eyes met yours. Really met yours. No mask. No stone-faced captain. Just Grayson.

“Nice escape,” she said, lips curling into a half-smile.

“Yeah,” you leaned forward, hands still aching. “Nice key.”

Silence hung between you, heavy with things you’d never say out loud.

Grayson sighed, looking toward the door. “They’ll be looking for you.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Her eyes flicked back to yours, sharp and silver in the dim light. “Then I guess you’d better stay hidden.”

You smiled, blood still on your teeth. “Guess so.”

“Now, are you going to keep telling me stuff I already know, or are you gonna come over here and help me with all these injuries? Vander only knows how to heal baby cuts for this four little rascals, not bruised ribs.” You joked while leaning back again, just proving how tired you were.

Grayson chuckled and shook her head before walking over. She tugged a chair and took a seat in front of you, unfolding her scarf. “Alright, alright. Take your shirt off, love.”

If the world was ending, I'd wanna be next to you

Elphaba Thropp x fem!reader x Glinda Upland

Summary: Your heart breaks when you hear the news about Elphaba. It breaks even more when Glinda returns without her to see you.

Word Count: 1,3K

Warning: ANGST, mentions of spells (don't tell me), prejudice.

note: reader is a witch too.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

"I insist that you should come with me." Elphaba's deep, calm voice sounded from beside you, making you turn your head towards her.

You snorted lightly. She had been insisting on this ever since the Wizard's invitation arrived. And you kept refusing, this was her moment. Elphaba deserved this. She deserved the whole world.

"No, Elphaba." you turned on the grass, your body facing hers. "Seriously, it's going to be great. You're going to do amazingly well, as always. And he's going to love you, everyone loves you."

You had dragged Elphaba out to the field after Shiz after school ended, wanting to have a moment alone with her before she left the next day. You would have called Galinda, but she seemed too busy with Fiyero, so you just shrugged.

Your friendship with Elphaba seemed like something that was destined not to happen, since you weren't exactly outgoing and she was very closed off, always on the defensive. You didn't blame her, it was all the prejudice she had suffered throughout her life that was to blame.

"I wish someone important was with me at this... such an important moment." she smiled slightly. "Are you really sure?"

Before answering, you looked at the field around you and bent down to pluck a delicate white flower that was lying near your feet. Holding it, you turned to Elphaba and stared at her for a moment, feeling your heart swell. With a delicate movement, you took her hand and turned it over, placing the flower in her green palm.

Holding her hand gently in yours, you closed your eyes for a moment and then released her.

"Did you make a wish on the flower?" she asked, lifting one corner of her lips, her gaze falling to the small flower in her hand.

"I put my best thoughts and wishes into it." you replied, bringing your hand to her chin to tap it with your index finger. "The flower knows I wish you the best, take it with you and return it to me when you return to Shiz."

Elphaba smiled the big smile that warmed your heart and leaned in, wrapping her arms around you.

At dusk you saw Galinda's small figure open her arms towards you in the middle of Shiz's courtyard and automatically opened yours before running towards her, feeling her lift you off the ground lightly.

"Galinda! I told you not to do that, you'll end up hurting yourself." you scolded as she lowered you again.

"It never gets old for me," she hummed. "I haven't seen you since the classes ended, where was my dearest friend?"

"Your dearest friend?" you giggled and she started walking, pulling your hand.

"Don't let anyone hear." she spoke almost singing again. "I was with Fiyero, and you? Where? And with whom."

She turned to you with big, expectant eyes, squeezing your hands tightly.

"With Elphaba, I wish I had more time to say goodbye." you said simply, shrugging.

"Oh! Elphie. I wish the same, having more time to say goodbye." she said and clung to you dramatically, hiding her face in your shoulder. "My roommate is leaving."

Galinda's dramatic and over-the-top ways had previously driven you away from her, but she ended up becoming your friend when she saw you talking to Elphaba. The arrangement worked out, somehow.

"I just had a magnificent idea!" she suddenly shouted, releasing you.

"What?"

"You can live with me while Elphie is away!" she put both hands on your shoulders. "It'll be perfect! That way we won't suffer so much when she's gone."

"She's not going to die, Galinda." you laughed. "But if it makes you happy, fine, I'll live with you."

You knew it wasn't going to happen. Just like you knew Galinda would get on the train with Elphaba. Your vision was clear this time.

You saw them both walking hand in hand down the emerald green corridor, heard the wizard's voice and then your vision ended. You couldn't interfere, even though you had seen very little.

Hence the flower. A protection spell might not be enough, but it was the most you could do without interfering with future events.

Galinda let out an excited squeal that snapped you out of your thoughts and her heels began to click on the floor as she pulled you up and started running towards your dorm.

The day in Shiz was overcast after the green train had left to Emerald City. You were writing one of your sorcery lessons when your head buzzed, forcing you to groan and squint. The vision was blurry at first, and the voices were muffled, but slowly it began to make sense.

Elphaba's irritated voice rang out, followed shortly by Galinda's calm request for something from her. Her vision blurred for a moment before focusing again, this time clearer. The outlines of Elphaba and Galinda stood in front of a large glass window.

When your head buzzed again, the image that appeared was that of your friend flying in front of a group of people, who were pointing guns at her. Galinda had her back to it, hugging Madame Morrible tightly.

With a groan of pain, you opened your eyes, looking around your dorm desperately, not really looking for anything. It wasn't supposed to be this way, why were they threatening Elphaba with weapons? Why wasn't Galinda helping her? Letting those people point their guns at her?

She managed to cast a spell to fly. In the midst of the whirlwind of negative thoughts, this one at least left a hint of pride in you.

Your despair did not pass with the hours of the day and to make matters worse, Madame Morrible's announcement of Elphaba's capture only made everything worse. Your stomach ached with worry, your head throbbed with agony.

None of it was true. Elphaba was not an enemy, she was not. And there was no evil in her either. You shivered when Madame Morrible's sophisticated voice called your best friend the Wicked Witch.

Some students who were unable to contact their families remained in Shiz until the next day, and you were among them, your eyes heavy with sadness, your chest heavy with a pain you could not explain.

Sitting on one of the fancy benches in the courtyard, you didn’t bother to look up when you heard the familiar click of Galinda’s heels approaching.

"You-you couldn't go home?" her soft voice rang out in the heavy silence present. "You can go to my-"

"Get out of here, Galinda." your voice sounded hoarse, perhaps from the hours you spent crying without knowing what to do.

"Did you know that you're the only one who calls me that now? It's just that I changed my name, now it's Glinda." she tried to sound optimistic, approaching with hesitant steps. "But you can keep calling me Galinda, I don't mind."

At another time, you would have laughed and thought she was silly and funny. But not now, not after what she did.

Encouraged by your silence, she spoke again, now almost standing in front of you.

"I couldn't do anything. I didn't want to anger her. And also Madame Morrible-"

"You already have everything, Galinda!" you snapped, standing up. "You have money, you have beauty, and everyone loves you. What do you lack?! Elphaba means so little that at the first opportunity to have the attention of someone who doesn't care about you, you trade her?"

"Don't yell..." she tried to take your hand, but you pulled it away abruptly. "I don't like seeing you sad."

"How do you want me to feel? What do you think Elphie is feeling right now?" your voice broke as tears began to threaten to spill over. "You're a terrible friend."

This seemed to shock Galinda and she staggered back a few steps, her large eyes widening even further.

"You didn't really mean it." she spoke even more softly.

"I meant." you ran your hands over your face and looked at her. "I don't want you to come near me anymore. Or even speak to me."

"No..." Galinda's broken voice made you sadder, but you started walking quickly away from her anyway.

Currently accepting requests for Elphaba Thropp and Glinda Upland

Ink and Bedrock

Pairing: Ekko x fem! Reader

Word count: 8.9k

Synopsis: You're tasked to record what happened to Piltover over three years ago. A determined scholar who's willing to get the story of war and warn people about its horrors no matter how much it takes. And Ekko's side is what you need to accomplish the behemoth task. What happens when free flowing ink meets an unmovable bedrock?

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, Noxian! Reader, Historian! Reader, Reader has nicknames, spoilers for s2, set 3 years after s2, CW blood and death mention, CW food mentions, CW injury, arcane characters apperance, part 1 of 2 (or 3), slowburn.

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A/N: Special thanks to @pleaktale ❤️

Part 1 >>> Part 2

Your suitcase weighs heavy in your hand as you step off the blimp for the first time. The breeze kisses your cheeks as if it's greeting you in glee. Your eyes slowly scan up the building, breath stuck in your throat at how the hex tower shines in the sun, its gold inlays melds perfectly with its white columns, making it look like you've stepped into a heavenly place. It could truly be a heavenly place in a few years. After the war ravaged Piltover and its people, it took them some time to recover from the pain it caused. Pain that your own people had a hand in causing. You could only hope that the people here accept you just as well as the wind does.

Shoes clicking against the steel floor, you can still see glimpses of the fight that occurred through the marks it left. Shattered concrete still waits in every corner to be patched up. Burn marks in different odd shapes are left etched on the pavement and metal floors like a grim reminder of the past.

As you head further outside, it gets brighter, the breeze seems to carry laughter. The sun bathes the trees in its light, still breathing through it all.

You can see hope in every person's face as you walk past, but you can sense their grief through those eyes, sadness dotted along their worry lines as they go about their day. Hope is driving them to rebuild, to concur that grief embedded in their bones. You hope that they reach their goals so they could live again, not just surviving from day to day while seeing those seared ashen walls in the shape of war.

You don't notice your knuckles shaking while gripping your suitcase. Eyes downcast, you fix your hold on the leather strap, nails leaving indents on your trembling palms. Walking through Piltover's streets has your mind making up visions of unnecessary bloodshed hidden in-between its concrete crevices. All the weapons drawn and pointed at each other, souls lost in what could've been something preventable. Yet, as you walk on the same blood soaked streets, you see all the residents rebuilding what was lost. It's only been three years since the conflict, but you can see that they've made progress in the land of progress.

The buildings are looking much better than what you saw in the reports. The hex tower is being rebuilt with a different purpose this time. The place no longer hums with remnants of the arcane.

People smile and walk to coffee shops with their loved ones, chatting and living in the moment despite what happened in the very place they sit upon. You admire them from afar, guilt trying to snake its way inside your chest, threatening to close around your heart.

You'll atone for the sins, one step at a time. Even if they drive you away, even if they curse and spit at you, you'll endure because they have endured so much more.

You promised Mel and your professor that you'll bring the truth to your fellow noxians and perhaps to the rest of Runeterra. And you intend to keep that promise.

Heart thudding in your chest, you finally make it to the Kiramman estate. The large gates open for you automatically, footsteps growing heavy with every step you take.

A guard watches you with his narrowed gaze, eyes scanning your crimson clothes and the fire in your determined eyes. With apprehension, he opens the door with a creak. As you enter and leave the cold Piltover streets, the air gets heavy as you go deeper into the mansion with a uniformed woman guiding you towards what you surmise as the office. The large double doors loom over you, shadow casting over your form.

She knocks, and you hear a commanding voice from the inside.

—

Caitlyn Kiramman, you've heard stories about her from the younger Medarda, stories of bravery and anguish laced within her decisions. You don't blame her for siding with Ambessa, she was cunning and ambitious, everything that the young and unwilling Kiramman head needed to shutter her grief close to her chest and use it as a fuel to keep herself warm in her time of grief. You suppose that's what the woman next to her is doing as she reads the letter you've given Caitlyn over her shoulder. You can see in her dark eyes that she's still atoning for her past sins.

You sit still on the plush seat, hands placed on your lap to show that you're not feeling nervous about you being here. Meanwhile in your head you're practically running laps around the room to stave off your anxiety. You find the two of them intimidating, Caitlyn sits on the same chair her ancestors have used. A seat built on years of leadership and hardwork, it's daunting to say the least, you suppose you admire her bearing that. The pink haired woman next to her has perched herself on the armchair, eyes reading the letter of recommendation written by Mel Medarda herself. A letter explaining why you're here, and what exactly your purpose of being in the same place her mother declared war and tried to conquer just over three years ago.

Your eyes roam the expansive room, its walls are in deep chestnut, all lined with her house colours, and dozens of oil paintings with her ancestors’ portraits looking down on you with their authoritative gaze. Scanning the bookshelves, your eyes pause at the pink haired woman who's already watching you with her apprehensive stare, your own eyes meeting with hers.

“Vi, right?” You ask, trying incredibly hard to stabilize your words. “Mel told me about you.”

She raises a brow, “I'm surprised she even remembers me.”

You shrug, “she seems to always know about everyone.”

“What's your relationship with her?” Caitlyn finally speaks, lithe hands folding the letter neatly.

“A friend, I guess?” You smile nervously. “Well, barely, an acquaintance more like.” They look at you, eyes swimming with even more questions. So you give them the answer. “My professor knows her. I don't know exactly how, but they seem to be close. She recommended me to Mel when she was looking for someone like me.”

“A historian? A journalist?” Vi glances briefly at Caitlyn, arm leaning over the back of her chair casually.

“Exactly, a bit of both actually.” you nod, “I—”

“You just finished your studies, what's your business being Mel Medarda’s ambassador?” Caitlyn asks suspiciously, eyes narrowed towards you. Well, she gets the job done being that blunt.

“I'm not her ambassador, technically.” You squeeze your hands together briefly before letting go, a nervous tick of yours. “I'm just here to record and write everything that happened that day.”

“Why?” She pokes and prods.

“The letter—”

“I know what the letter says, I want to know what you think.”

“I understand your apprehension. I really do.” Your eyes swim with silent empathy. “My job is to tell people, my people, exactly what happened here. The situation over there is… isn't good. I'm here so that they know what the arcane is capable of, what Ambessa did, and the cost of that war.” You lean forward, elbows perched on your knees, “I'm here so that they don't make the same mistake again, so that history doesn't repeat itself.”

Caitlyn tips her head at you, lips pursed into a thin line. While Vi stares heavily at the letter on the table with the Medarda wax seal stamped on it.

“I've seen the effects of it, war. I've never experienced it or lived through it but I've seen what it leaves in its wake, and it's all disaster, death and—” you squeeze your hands into tight fists before letting the pressure go. “Noxus has been entrenched in war for thousands of years. If my work here could prevent just a few years of war then it'll be worth it. Noxians— Runeterra needs to see what war is capable of, what it leaves on the people they've ravaged.” You exhale, “it's not much, but someone has to try. Even if it's just a small step toward peace.”

“This isn't the first time you've done something like this?” Vi asks in a solemn tone.

“Unfortunately,” you utter, voice trembling. “but this is the first time I'm doing this alone. My professor has gotten too old to travel.”

“Mel has said in her letter that you have a spark. Talented, have a way with words. And determined, never settling for a no nonsense answer.” Caitlyn taps the piece of paper in front of her.

You smile, “I'd like to think so too.”

“I don't think that was a compliment, Spark.” Vi’s lips curl into a smirk. “She just called you annoying.” Caitlyn furrows her brows, side eyeing her partner.

You mirror her smile. “Well, I'll take it as a compliment.”

Caitlyn clears her throat, index rubbing along where her eye patch sits over eye. She seems…tired, like she has been working longer than she has lived. “I'll get you settled at an apartment here, then I'll tell the council about you. If they approve, then you can start your research.”

“Thank you.” You sigh, relieved that your journey wasn't in vain. “Can I interview you two then?”

Vi blinks, “us?”

“Preferably alone, if you're comfortable with that. Just like you said, Ms. Kiramman, I don't take no nonsense answers.” You smile genuinely at them. “You two are just as important in the story. It wouldn't be complete without your personal accounts.”

Caitlyn stands up, and you immediately think you've fucked up. You're already counting down your days. “If the council votes yes, then you can interview us, and everyone you want to talk to.” She reaches for you, and you quickly stand up to meet her halfway with a shake of her stretched hand.

“I won't disappoint you or Piltover. I'll write your history as truthfully as I can.”

She nods, releasing your hand.

“Don't forget Zaun.” Vi says, standing up and giving you your letter back.

“I'm allowed there?” You take the letter, tucking it inside your coat pocket.

“Of course,” she scoffs, head gesturing towards the large window that overlooks the bridge connecting Zaun and Piltover. “It's open, kid, just cross the bridge.”

You can't help but think that she's egging you on, trying to rile you up by your fear of the undercity. It would work if you were actually afraid of it. Truth be told, you're excited to see what Zaun has in store for you.

“I'll keep that in mind.” Your smile tells them just that.

—

You feel like a piece of meat being scrutinized by the whole council. Their eyes hold unsung words as they stare at you in their important chairs. But you're not backing down, not when you’ve come so far. The spotlight above you shines brightly, making it harder to see the council members’ faces. You didn't expect to stand before them, practically dragged by an enforcer by your ear. If you did expect it, you might've prepared a speech or something. Now you're just standing there awkwardly under the harsh light.

“She's Noxian.” The one with platinum blond hair says, ringed fingers tapping on Mel's letter that they've passed around. “People might not be comfortable with her running around. For all we know she could be a spy.”

You scrunch your face, mouth clamped shut to prevent a nasty word from escaping.

“That's why she should be running around,” Caitlyn defends you. She sits on the head of the circular table, blue hair shining under the light. “The people need to not be afraid of them any longer. Are you afraid, councilor?”

The blond sucks in her teeth, annoyed.

“Caitlyn's right, it'll be good in the long run. If what the letter has stated is true, then we might be able to establish trade routes with Noxus in the future.” The councilor with a golden mask hiding half of their face says, voice gentle and soft amidst the previous arguing. “Mend the relationship between our two countries.” A handful of them nod in agreement.

“Say,” someone with short hair and strong features says, “does it work? Telling them about the shit they've done?”

“Yes,” you stand up straighter. “My professor has been recording these histories for a couple hundred years or so. Whenever her writing has reached the people it has helped. Little by little the histories have opened our eyes to the cruelty of war. I wouldn't be here if it hadn't worked.” They listen to you intently. “I'm the direct evidence of that.”

She shifts in her seat, dark eyes swirling with thoughts, and a metal arm glimmering under the light. “Are you from a noble house just like Medarda?”

“No, I'm just like everyone else in Noxus. Our research and expenses have been sponsored by a noble house though. That's the only connection I have with the nobles of Noxus.” You swallow thickly, “only just recently I've found myself acquainted with Mel Medarda.”

“You've mentioned your professor and his unusually long lifespan, and due to that, he has gathered what…” A stout council member flips through a book, you guess he has done his research about you. “Approximately 271 first hand accounts of Noxus’ cruelty?”

“It's 283,” you say with a steely gaze. “And she isn't like everyone else. She has chosen to use her long lifespan to help, to enhance her knowledge, not gather riches for her own benefit.”

“Do you intend to do the same?” Caitlyn asks, voice calm and reserved.

“Yes,” you close your hands into fists, this time you don't release the pressure. “I won't be able to live as long as her, but I can try to achieve something close to what she has done.”

“You remind me of someone.” Caitlyn's muffled words were so quiet you thought you heard wrong. Before you could simmer on what she has said, she clears her throat. “We can monitor her progress by meeting up with her every week until she has finished her work. Make sure that she's writing the whole truth.” They nod at her words. “All in favour of her staying and doing her research?”

The air grows heavy, stifling as they ponder what Caitlyn relayed to them. For a minute or so, you thought you were about to go empty handed.

The woman with the metal arm raises her hand in favour. Then more follow, until only two of the council members remain.

“That settles it then.” Caitlyn nods at you, and you feel like a fish bone stuck in your throat has been finally pulled out. “You may interview anyone who is willing. Don't make us regret this decision.”

You inhale deeply, you feel the world is sitting atop your shoulders now. “I won't.”

—

Violet and Caitlyn receive you in a much brighter mood than before. The office is filled with sunlight as it spreads across the expansive room, the curtains are furled, and the weather has cleared up since you got into Piltover. The air smells like bergamot and a hint of something sweet. A sweetness that is revealed when a plate of sugar cookies is placed on the table in front of you, accompanied by a cup of steaming tea.

You've been interviewing them for more than three hours now, hence why they've brought out the snacks and drinks that are slowly getting colder as it lays there untouched. With every question they answer, the scene of war gets clearer and clearer in your head. And as you go further and further into the conversation, their expression changes from sadness to anger. You take care of your wording from then on, make sure that you show tact in front of their war torn faces.

“What happened up there?” You ask after they both recall their side of the story. “While Violet was fighting with…” you pause as Vi exhales shakily. Clearing your throat, you don't poke and prod at her side anymore. She's still living through the pain of what happened, they all are. Caitlyn seems to think the same thing. “I'm sorry.”

“How about we continue that part for next time?” She squeezes Vi’s hand affectionately. “As for what happened up in the hextower with Viktor and Jace, we don't know the whole story. We just know that Ekko was the one who ended it.” You write the name atop your notebook for reference, the tip of your gilded pen tapping along it.

“He hasn't talked to us about it.” Vi adds after a bated breath. “Or to me after….Jinx.” Her brows pinch together in hurt. “I still have no idea how he got her to help us. All I know is that he did everything he could to end it. For that we’re grateful for him, even if he doesn't want us to be.”

“Jinx,” you repeat the stranger's name softly. Mind locking his and her name together. “Was Ekko close with your sister?”

She chuckles, eyes turned towards the smoke rising from her cup. “Once, when we were kids.”

Cait leans closer towards her, thumb brushing gently atop her calloused knuckles. “You don't have to tell it now if you don't want to, Vi.”

“I'm sorry about your sister.” You gently shut your notebook close. “I don't want to push you into recalling a memory that still aches.”

“You can tell that she's gone by that? I must look fucking sad right now then.” Vi half jokes, nudging Cait’s shoulder with her own, a subtle way of saying that she's alright.

You smile gently, “I know the look, I've seen it a hundred times before. But it doesn't feel any easier every time I see it. I really am sorry.”

Vi sighs, and Cait squeezes her once more. “You're right, let's do this some other time.” She stands up abruptly, pacing towards the open window, basking in the warmth of the Piltover sun. Your lips are already forming apologies, “and don't say sorry again.” She looks over her shoulder as Caitlyn follows right behind her. “You're just doing your job. Don't worry, I'm not gonna lunge at you for asking about it.”

You nod, standing up. “When you're ready, I'm just here. Thank you for your time.”

They both nod as Caitlyn's hands rub along Vi’s arms. Before you could leave, Caitlyn calls after you. Her heels clicking against the marble floors as she walks over to you. “Wait here.” You do as you're told. She turns around towards the coffee table to grab a handful of cookies, placing it over an open napkin and then folding it neatly. “You should talk to Sevika, she's a council member representing Zaun. She could help with their side of the story.” She reaches for your hand when you only stare at her, opening your palm for you and giving you the wrapped cookies. “Figured you haven't eaten yet.”

“Thank you, Caitlyn.” You smile sweetly at her, hand now heavy with the cookies.

“Sevika talks to Ekko almost everyday ever since they've become partners in restoring Zaun. You'll have a better chance at having a minute with him through her.”

“Where is she in Zaun?”

“Are you afraid now?” She raises a thin brow, eyes shining under the sunlight.

“Not even a little.” You smile, “I just heard that it's easy to get lost in the lanes.”

Cait nods, “She's near the harbour.”

“Thank you,” you turn to open the door but before you do, you look back at them. “and thank you for the hospitality.”

—

You walk through Zaun with purpose. The lanes look much better than what you've seen through reports. The streets are no longer dark and bleak, there are street lamps in every corner, and the shops look like they're thriving just as well as their Piltover counterparts. There are green overgrowths, flowers and grass peeking from concrete cracks and vines growing and slithering atop metal walls.

You've only been in Piltover for a week, and you've spent most of it talking to willing council members and citizens. They all convey the same thing you've seen before in people who have suffered tremendous trauma. The hurt is embedded in their eyes, grief in their bones. But you also see the same thing in their tone just like what you've seen countless times before— hope, it's laced in their way of talking, weaved through their movements as they go about their day to day operations. You can see that they're looking forward to tomorrow, even when the past still knocks on their doors. You see them answer the knocking, but never letting it enter and fester in their home.

You see the same thing in Zaun, they've suffered as much as Piltover had, even more before the war. The walls still bear the violence it once carried, the air still shifts with heaviness and voices lost in the very streets you're walking on. The place buzzes with life, Zaunites rebuilding their home, people carry on, life carries on.

As you go further and further into the heart of the undercity, you see the same face on the walls, blue hair flowing in the breeze, shining eyes staring down at you through her steely gaze. Every corner you see a semblance of the mysterious girl, blue and pink trailing behind her, people rallying alongside her. They all bear the same hope, some weave anger akin to a woman scorned through the graffiti, some etch her face with sorrow and loss. But it's all the same face, same eyes, same hair. You think you already know who she is.

You make it to the center of Zaun where a hefty statue stands. It's a sculpture of a man with an air of authority around him. Curious, you read the plaque next to his feet, reading his name— Vander. You recognize his name from what Violet has told you. Looking up at him, you see through his bronze eyes, if only he could talk, all the stories he would tell.

His statue has blue flowers placed at his feet in respect to him. There’s a banging sound right behind it, getting your attention. Peeking behind the statue, you see what looks like a bar being rebuilt upon the ashes of what it used to be. With one last look at Vander, you continue towards your destination.

Walking along the harbour brings you peace, the water lapping at the coast. You hug your coat tighter around your torso, cold breeze seeping through the fabric as the air flutters your lashes.

You make it to Sevika's place without a hitch. She surprisingly waits for you right outside her door, expression flat as she stands on the steps.

“Finally made it.” She wears a brown poncho over a white shirt, silky hair falling over her face. “Vi told me you were coming.” She answers your silent question when she sees your confused expression. “Come.” Before you could get a word in, she's already heading inside.

—

Your eyes as usual roam around your surroundings, ever curious at what kind of person you're about to talk to. Her office is smaller compared to the Kiramman estate, but it doesn't lack personality. The work table in front of you is solid oak, papers and metal parts litter over it right next to a heavy looking arm with colourful doodles all over it. The walls are concrete, a honeycomb brown painted over it. The circular windows are fully open, overlooking the harbour below. It lets in a cool sea breeze while the sun has fully set in the horizon. The quiet hum of the lights and radiator tamps down any left over anxiety you have.

Right behind Sevika's chair lies an aquarium filled with colourful fish and rocks placed on the aquarium floor. It gurgles and lets out air from time to time, it's faint blue light bathing your form. The potted plants dotted along the room dance in the breeze, its rustling sound reminds you of the tree back home swaying in the wind.

From what you've heard about her, she seems like a woman of few words, someone who prefers to use her fist instead of talking. But based on what you've heard from her so far after talking to her for two hours, she seems far from what she used to be. You look at her and you see a council member, a pillar of Zaun. A lot can happen in three years.

Your eyes glance back towards the metal arm, its shark-like feature has you curious at how it even works. Index reaching towards it, chair creaking from under you, your curiosity makes you touch the cold metal, its pink and blue paint rough against the pad of your finger.

The door creaks open as Sevika enters, light flooding inside the room and you immediately flinch back into your seat. “You're sitting in the dark, kid.” She flicks the light switch beside her, warm yellow light flooding in.

You look over the backrest of the chair to see her properly and not a reflection of her on the aquarium glass. “I didn't know where the light switch was.” She didn't seem to notice what you were just doing.

“You could've asked.” Her heavy footsteps thump on the creaky floorboards.

“Don't worry, I'm not afraid of the dark—” the clang of a metallic plate placed in front of you makes you jump in your seat. You stare at her, wide-eyed.

She chuckles lowly, sitting down on her seat with a tired grunt. Gesturing towards a plate of salted biscuits, and small sandwiches, she meets with your eyes confidently. “Sorry for the lack of spread. I didn't expect for us to take this long.” She takes the same heavy arm from the table, grabbing a bottle and oiling the hinges with care.

“It's fine, thank you.” You grab a biscuit, all the while eyeing the craftsmanship of the metallic arm. Sevika notices your stare.

“What, never seen one of these before?”

“No, I've seen prosthetics before. It's just— this one is unique looking.” You say while chewing, finding the biscuit pleasantly salty. The sandwich looks enticing from where you're sitting.

She chuckles wryly. “A fancy way of saying it looks fucked up. I rarely use it these days, I use this one instead” she lifts up the simpler looking metal arm she currently has on. “I just like to…take care of it. Make sure it doesn't rust.”

You smile, “it means a lot to you, I get it.” Your thumb brushes along your beloved pen. “It looks well made, did you build it yourself?”

“It was a gift.” She hums in reply, now wiping a cloth around the arm. “Where were we?”

“We're at the part where I told you that we should rest.” You say with a teasing smile.

“We're done resting, kid.” She scoffs.

“And just like what I've told you before you took off, you don't need to rush it. We can take our time.”

“I want to get this over with.” Sevika leans on the table, eyes narrowed at you. “Where were we, kid?” She says with extra emphasis.

“Let's see…” You lean on the table yourself, mirroring her look but with a smug smirk while pretending to flip through the pages of your notebook. “We were at the part where your ass was being handed to you.”

If you talked to her like that three years ago, your ass would be the one being handed to you. But now, Sevika laughs loudly, moving away as she sits back on her chair.

She grabs a biscuit, using it to point at you before taking a bite. “You’ve got balls. You would've thrived here a few years ago, eh?”

“Maybe, we'll never know.” You shrug. “Now, are you sure you want to continue?”

“I've got a busy schedule, of fucking course I want to continue.”

“Okay, I just needed to make sure you're alright.”

Her eyes dart towards the arm, frowning briefly before looking back at you. She puts it down with a slight clang against the table. “I'm fine,” she sighs, and you nod in understanding, clicking your pen as you ready to scribble down her words. “After I got nabbed by one of those creepy puppets, there was just darkness with bits of light. Like a… like stars.” You write her exact words.

“You felt like you were floating, but were still restrained in real life.” You recall the same feeling the other people you've talked to relayed.

“Yeah, exactly that.” Her eyes swim with thoughts. “Then, I was back— just like that.” She snaps her fingers together.

“Like you woke up from a dream?”

She shuts her eyes close for a second before opening it again. “I heard the last echo of an explosion, when I looked up at the hex tower, it was already gone.” Taking another bite, she continues. “I guess that was Ekko’s work.”

There it is again, that recurring name. “I keep hearing about him.” Your pen subconsciously circles around his name.

“The boy savior, they call him.” She slumps down on her seat, evidence of her fatigue etched under her dark eyes. “And we still don't know how he fucking did it.”

You pinch your brows together in questioning. “You don't know either?”

“Fuck no, we might work together to help Zaunites, but he still hates my guts.” She blinks at you, lips pursing together. “Maybe you can get him to talk. I'm as curious as everyone else, we never know, the kid might have some secret weapon on him.”

“Who is he really? Violet says he's an old childhood friend. The others don't know much about him either, all I know is that he saved everyone at the last minute.”

“I think it's best that you ask him yourself, kid. Ain't that your job?”

You sigh, closing your notebook. “You're right, where is he usually?”

“Firelights hideout. It used to be a secret but they opened it to everyone who needed it after the war.” She crosses her leg over the other.

“Fireflies?”

“Firelights.” She corrects. “He's the leader, has been since the very beginning.” Her eyes go towards your closed notebook. “Hey, we're not done here yet, kid!”

You stand up, tilting your head at her teasingly. “I know, you told me to find Ekko so I'm going to go find him.”

“Well, not right now!”

You're already at the door. “I'll come back, don't worry! Y’know it's best to tell your story after some rest, it helps in better recollection.” You're not lying, she did seem tired. And you're in too deep to not go and find him now before the day officially ends.

She glares at you, mouth slightly agape. “I'm going to hit you.” She's starting to stand up when you sprint away.

“Thank you for the hospitality, councilor Sevika!”

—

Zaun is fully alive at night. The streets are filled with people laughing and hanging out with their loved ones. Which means there's plenty of people to ask where the firelights hideout is. Good thing that some of them were drunk enough to not ask you questions, the downside is that they're too drunk to give you coherent directions. So you're stuck in the middle of the undercity looking lost, but with the help of some people who haven't had a drink yet, you manage to find the entrance after an hour of walking around. All the while you try to ignore the looming presence following right behind you ever since you left Sevika's. Whoever it is, they don't seem to want to hurt you, so you pretend to not sense them until they decide to reveal themselves, or fight you. Whichever comes first.

Your feet ache and your stomach grumbles, but the sight of the huge gingko tree with its lively leaves swaying in the night wind makes it all worth it. A smile slowly spreads across your cheeks, the air is fresher down here, wind fluttering your lashes, sending goosebumps to spread across your arms.

The twinkling fairy lights make you chuckle to yourself, children run amok, giggling while their parents try to call them back home. The place is beautiful in its own way. You can see the large walls enclosed around the commune with circular vents dotted around it, a remnant of its past secrecy.

“You can come out now.” You say in a confident tone. Looking over your shoulder, you see his outline, the person who has been following your entire journey to the hideout. “I was lost and you didn't even bother helping me.”

“I heard you were looking for me.”

The mysterious man comes out of the shadow, the dark parting for him like theatre curtains.

Draped in a large puffy coat, steely brown eyes glaring at you through the white face paint. His whole demeanor screams ‘leader.’ White hair shining in the moonlight, twists tied in a bun while a few strands drape over his face. The blue metallic charms wrapped around his hair clinks together whenever he moves. The hoverboard hums in his hand, the faint green light illuminating his face as it flickers in and out. Adding to the intimidating air he's trying to convey.

You have to admit it, he looks strikingly handsome, albeit intimidating and tough. But you like tough, and intimidating is just another word for overawe, but you're not easily impressed. His daunting shell is an obstacle for you to crack open and take a peek inside. You're curious what his genius mind thinks, out of all the things they've all told you, nothing else has gotten you beyond excited than the man standing before you. His side is the final piece of the puzzle, the pièce de résistance you need.

You smile at him, a genuine one, not the same polite smile you give when you're interviewing someone. “It's nice to finally put a face to the name.” Hand reaching out to him in greeting, he just looks at your stretched hand, eyes darting all over your form suspiciously. You're suddenly conscious of your posture and how you wear your clothes.

“You're noxian.”

“What, too obvious?” You gesture around your crimson clad self. Outfit tailored to suit you and your profession.

His gaze narrows, eyes turning to slits as his mouth turns into a scowl. “Are you spying on us?”

“No,” you furrow your brows, hand retracting back to your side, the sound of your leather messenger bag thumps against your hand.

A tad disappointed. “didn't Sevika tell you about me? Or Vi?”

He flicks his aprehensive eyes from your head to your shoes, knuckles tightening around the hammer he carries. “Guess you weren't important enough.”

“I guess that's why you were following me, huh?” You say sarcastically. If I wasn't that important, why follow me? Is what you wanted to say, but you're playing it cool, lest you lose what precious time you have with him. You need to get his story.

He scoffs, hand still holding his weapon, resting it atop his shoulder. “You were asking too many questions. You could've been robbed or killed.” A breeze passes by between you, rustling the leaves above and slicing the tension.

“Well, you know what they say about curiosity and the cat.” His frown deepens, teeth grindingly frustrated. You sigh, swallowing down your sass. “I think we got off on the wrong foot.” You tell him your name as nicely as you can. You've come far from brawling with fellow noxians at the bar, if only your mentor could see you now. “I'm a noxian historian, Mel Medarda tasked me to record and write what happened here three years ago so that—” he's already walking away from you. “—hey!”

“Save me your sales pitch.” Ekko puts the board on his back and hooks the hammer on his belt in one fluid motion as he walks further into the commune.

“Sales—! I'm not trying to sell you anything.” You follow behind whilst people walk past you, all staring at the interaction you're having with their leader. The place is lively despite the moon gazing down upon them. The place smells faintly of freshly cut grass and mint. “I just want to talk to you.”

“We're talking now.” He says all without looking over his shoulder.

“Wait! Can you at least listen to what I have to say? Just give me a minute.” You try to follow even when he expertly dodges around people and buildings. He's trying to lose you in the hubbub of the hideout. “Ekko, please!” As you round a corner, you see him retreating up to the tree, hoverboard humming from under him as he dashes upwards. “Oh come on, man!”

He looks down at you with a faint smirk, brow raised as he watches you kick a lone can in frustration. Stepping down from his board, he enters his tree house, making sure that you hear the slam of his door.

“So you're not going to talk to me?!” You yell up, palms cupping the sides of your mouth. The firelights look at you with a mix of annoyance and confusion. “Ekko!”

“Go away!” His voice is carried by the wind, he doesn't even poke his head out of the window to talk to you clearly.

You stomp your foot on the dusty ground. “Fine! Thank you for talking to me!” You sarcastically say, almost sticking out your tongue out at him childishly. Sighing, you compose yourself, trying to smile and kindly wave at the passers by. “Hello, sorry.” Walking back to where you came from, you mutter a curse under your breath.

You can't exactly blame him for not talking, you are a stranger to him. If he doesn't want to speak to an old childhood friend and comrade then he definitely won't talk to you. Your tired feet carry you out, but the smell of something savoury takes you away. Looking towards the source, you see a small food stand nearby, its fire blazing and its fried food calling for you.

“Maybe just a bite.” You're already walking towards it with purpose, coin pouch already out of your pocket as you find your seat.

—

The moon rises high above you as you've finally eaten your fill and left the commune with less coins in your pocket, and your feet aching. At least you've talked and interviewed a few people along the way. The trip wasn't all wasted, but you can't help but feel like you're missing out on Ekko.

As you enter an alleyway leading out into Vander's statue, you hear footsteps echoing behind you.

“Did you change your mind—!?” A bullet whizzes by your head, dodging it at the last minute as it leaves a dark streak where it almost hit you right in between your eyes. “Hey!”

Three people come out of the shadow, they're all in different builds, one lanky and holding the pistol that's still smoking. While right next to him is all muscle, fists at the ready. The last person to show themselves is much younger, a smaller boy who couldn't be older than seventeen. His lips tremble slightly, but his eyes are determined as he raises a knife towards you.

“A tourist enters a dark alleyway only to be met by a gang of ruffians.” You click your tongue, “How cliché.” Taking off your messenger bag, and dropping it at your feet, you take your golden pen from your pocket. “My professor wouldn't give you a passing grade.”

“Shut it, girly!” The one with the gun shrieks, pulling the hammer down, ready to shoot again. “Give us the bag or I'll shoot you right between your eyes.”

You suck in your teeth, egging them on. “Nope, not a chance, I've got all my writing in there.”

“I'll count to ten then I'll send my men after you!”

You tilt your head, thumb brushing along the side of your pen. “What men? All I see is a brute who probably blocks with his face and the other looks like he's about to piss himself.” Hand raising in front of you, you point at them with the end of your pen. A familiar mechanical humming seems to get closer and closer towards the alley, you ignore the sound. “And one coward who can't even shoot for shit. I've seen better aim from talking goats—!”

“Shut up!” A shot rings out, the scene unfolds in slow motion. Muzzle flash and gunpowder flying about into the air as you twist and click your pen.

“Shit, look out!” Ekko's voice pierces the night air, but the sound of your pen clicking and whirring into place as it stretches silences the thudding in your heart.

His hand reaches for you, hovering above on his board as he desperately tries to get you away. Just as his fingers close around the collar of your coat, your gilded pen turns into a sharp rapier. The bullet collides with the tip of the sword, effectively slicing it down the middle and shattering it into pieces.

Metal shards bounces off, one scratching your cheek while sparks were flying about as Ekko couldn't stop his momentum. Eyes wide in shock, hand still holding onto you, he brings you down with him. The two of you slam against the side of the building in a harsh thump. Collapsing on each other, head hitting his own.

Your shoulder hits the brick wall, while Ekko slinks down right next to you, tumbling down on his hoverboard. “Ekko?!” You've come face to face with the boy savior himself. He heaves in place, hand still holding onto your back. “You idiot! I had it!”

“Me?! You're the one flaunting your money all over Zaun!”

You gasp, clutching your imaginary pearls. “Flaunting?! I—”

“Grab her!” Great, you've forgotten about the would-be thieves.

“Stay here!” Ekko tries to stand up but his board landed on his leg awkwardly, weighing him down. “Damn it.”

“No, you stay here!” Scrambling up, you poke at his chest, right in the middle of the bright pink ‘X’

“Get the sword! It looks like it's made of gold!” The shooter instructs, his idiot twosome striding quickly towards you.

“Oh you can take my fucking money but you can't take my fucking pen!” You ready your stance, one hand gripping the sword.

“Wait!” Ekko finally gets up, now able to push the heavy board out from above him. “Don't—!”

They rush towards you, instead of thrusting your sword into their intestines, you take the blunt approach by slapping them with the sides of the sword that isn't as sharp. The whipping sound rings in your ears, followed by their pained and shocked groans.

“Ow! What the—?!” The younger goon grasps at his reddening cheek, pain blooming where you slapped him with the rapier.

“Didn't your mother teach you manners?” With one side swipe, you keep landing harsh slaps all over the bigger goon. He yelps, touching where you just hit him. They can't even get close to you as you keep smacking them whenever they get near. Their hips, legs, cheek, and butt are no longer safe from your walloping.

Your grin is unmistakable, clearly having fun at…whatever it is you're doing.

Meanwhile, Ekko looks at you with a raised brow, mouth slightly agape at the ridiculousness happening in front of him. Completely gawking at the scene. They tried to kill you and take your things, so why are you playing with them like they're children? One even has a knife for fucks sake.

“Enough!” The shooter yells from the other side of the alleyway. His hand shakes whilst both of his henchmen sink down to their knees when you hit a particular spot in between their legs. “Stop playing around!”

Ekko steps right next to you, glaring at the man while his hand grabs his hammer from his belt. “What do you think you're doing, hm?” His jaw tightens, “I thought I finally got into that thick head of yours.” You can see why he's considered as the leader. He bears it well.

You pant in place, watching as the air around you turns parlous as Ekko stands his ground. You flick your eyes at the two men crawling by your feet, still incapacitated, skin turning into a red angry hue.

“Let us have this one, man!” He gestures wildly with his gun, despite the threat of it accidentally going off, you and Ekko don't even flinch. He notices, eyes glancing briefly at you. “She's noxian anyway!”

Your brows furrow in anger, hand tightening around the handle of your sword. The younger you would've lunged immediately, but you let Ekko handle his people, you can see that's what he's trying to silently convey to you based on how he's standing slightly in front of you. Ready to shield you if need be. Or ready to hold you back if you do decide to pounce.

“You've got a decent job all lined up, and a kid waiting for you back home.” His tone doesn't waver. “The three of you have people waiting back home and yet you decide to hit a noxian who knows how to fight!”

“I'll take that as a compliment.” You mutter under your breath, fixing your hold on your rapier.

He heard your mumbling, glaring at you for half a second before returning his attention back towards the trio. “Go home.”

“But—”

“Go before I sic this noxian on you.”

You fake a lunge at them, effectively making them run with their tails tucked in between their legs. As they scramble off, you smile at their retreating backs, leaving you and Ekko in the dust. Adrenaline still flows in your veins, bouncing on the balls of your feet from the rush of it all.

“You showed them— oof!” Your bag is suddenly shoved in your chest.

“Go. Home.” He points at you, finger poking at the leather of your bag.

“Hey! I'm not a zaunite so you can't tell me what to do.” You put your bag over your shoulder, hand still enclosed around the hilt of your sword, its golden sheen shining in the dim streetlights. “Come on, we make a pretty good team together, right?”

He kicks his hoverboard, and it whirrs into life, green light bouncing around the alleyway. “What were you doing?” Looking over his shoulder, he sees the cut on your cheek.

“What?” You scrunch your nose, still bouncing on your feet. Following his gaze, you touch at the ache blooming on your face, feeling the warm blood oozing out of it. “Oh, it's fine, just a cut.” He twists around to face you fully, arms crossed over his chest. You realize that you can use the time to question him. “What do you mean by your question exactly?”

He inhales, eyes flitting between your face and the sword. “You have a fancy sword and you don't even know how to use it.”

“Trust me, I know how to use it.” Lifting it up, you let the gold inlays glimmer in the light. Its swirling patterns catch his curious brown eyes. “I just— I promised myself a long time ago that I won't draw blood unless absolutely necessary.” Thumb tracing the button, you twist your hand and click it. The sword retracts back into a pen within a second. “Do you think I'll travel alone defenseless?” He narrows his eyes further, slowly calming down. “The question is, what are you doing here, Ekko? Were you worried about little ol' me?” Your eyes shine with mischief.

“You're never letting this whole interview thing go, huh?” He jumps backwards onto his hoverboard, arms still crossed on his chest. His brown eyes swim with something you can't decipher.

“As much as I want to respect your decision, I need your side of history. You're the missing piece, Ekko.” You shrug, smiling. “And unfortunately I can't leave without that missing piece.”

His lips purse into frustration, eyes darting along the wall sitting behind you. “Damn it.” Without another word, he flies off into the night, leaving streaks of green in his wake.

“Wait!” Your eyes follow him but you remain in place. “Why does he keep doing that?” Chuckling, you look at what he was staring at, finding the same blue haired girl painted on the walls. “If only you could talk, my job would be way easier.”

—

“Tell her to leave Zaun alone.” Ekko's commanding voice rises above the Kiramman office. His fists thump against the desk, sending papers and pens to topple over.

Caitlyn sighs in her chair while Vi settles to lean against the bookshelf behind Cait. Sevika pinches the bridge of her nose, standing near the windows as her previous words were ignored by Ekko.

“We can't just bar her from Zaun, Ekko.” Caitlyn answers back. “She has a job to do, a job that the council would want her to finish.”

“What for?” He huffs, “it already happened, people died, we almost lost but we didn't, end of story.”

“Because of your help, Ekko.” Vi finally speaks after what felt like hours of back and forth. “Which, none of us knows what you did to win it for all of us. She needs the whole story so that it works. So that people know what the arcane is capable of, so that it doesn't happen again.”

“I did it for Zaun.”

“I talked to her,” Sevika says from her spot. “If I could do that, kid, then you can.”

“You can't force me.” Ekko straightens up.

“We're not—” Caitlyn starts.

“Ekko,” Vi inhales sharply, hand playing with a metallic trinket shaped like a monkey, its surface singed, paint chipping away. “This could bring peace. We all know what's stirring in Noxus, if shit hits the fan again— I…I can't do that again.”

Ekko can't get his eyes off of Vi’s hands wrapped around the seemingly odd thing.

“We can ally with the other nations if need be.” Caitlyn grasps Vi’s hand briefly before rubbing her temples, “what happened here was a warning.” Her voice wavers. “If we can warn the people of Runeterra with it, we could save millions of lives.”

“Are you sure you can talk about this with her here?” Ekko gestures towards you sitting quietly in your chair.

You blink, pausing from blowing at your steaming cup of tea. “Is it rude to blow at your tea?”

“She signed a confidentiality agreement. You can always retract statements so she doesn't write it down. She just needs to write what happened, nothing else.”

“You'll be nice to Ekko, right, Spark?” Vi gently smiles at you.

“As long as the boy savior here is nice to me.”

Ekko groans, surrendering. “Let's get this over with.”

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The uncertainty of coexistence

Ambessa Medarda x fem!reader

Summary: Can a warrior become the object of her general's affection?

Warning: mentions of war, typical canon violence, big age difference (reader is in her 20s and Ambessa is in her 50s), power imbalance

Word Count: 1,5K

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

To be born in Noxus was to be certain that one way or another you would end up on the battlefield. Without knowing the reason or purpose, a Noxian would do what your generals told you to do. To honor your blood and ancestry. It was better to be a warrior than a slave or a prostitute. That's what you think, at least.

You had never been to war, though. It had been less than three years since you had become a warrior. Because you were inexperienced, the higher-ranking officers were more harsh on you and the younger ones.

The training sessions led by Rictus were tiring, but they were intended to prepare you for the imminent war that your general was preparing.

Your general, Ambessa Medarda. Lady of War. You had only seen her up close a few times, but it was enough for you to know that she was impressive.

You turned your attention back to what you were doing when you felt a strong blow to your ribs, making you gasp and fall to the ground. Shooting a irritated look at Carissa, your friend and training partner, you stood up, grabbing your stick.

"We're not at war yet and I'm not the enemy, you don't need to use so much force." you complained.

"I didn't use much force." she smiled smugly. "You're weak."

You almost raised your eyebrows at her teasing, then looked out of the small training cabin, seeing Rictus distracted with his runic tablets. Taking the opportunity, you ran and threw yourself at Carissa, making a dry noise on the floor, then tried to grab her hands, which proved difficult as she began to struggle, the smug look still present on her smiling face.

"Do you surrender?" you asked, letting out a low chuckle. She let out a louder chuckle when you managed to grab one of her hands.

Distracted by your play, you didn't notice the familiar sound of heavy boots behind you, at the entrance to the cabin.

"It gives me great pleasure to see the youth of Noxus rejoice in being a part of my army." the authoritative voice spoke, causing both of you to freeze momentarily.

Quickly standing up, you lowered your head, looking down at your bare feet on the wooden floor, you saw Carissa doing the same out of the corner of your eye.

"General." you both spoke at the same time, your voices sounding shaky.

Ambessa walked in, approaching and stopping near the two of you, her heavy presence silencing the entire room. She exuded a dark power without having to do anything.

"Don't stop, go back to playing, we have plenty of time." she spoke again, her voice vibrating closer. "Isn't it?"

You swallowed hard, your hands starting to sweat. Ambessa was known for her determination and violence, she had no patience for mistakes and distractions. A thought about that ran through your head and made you breathe heavily.

She walked a few steps, starting to circle around the two of you. She stopped next to Carissa and tilted her head down.

"Out," she ordered, her voice sounding colder.

Carissa swallowed and nodded, leaving without another word. Ambessa walked a few more steps, stopping in front of you, making you feel smaller than ever, in every way.

You felt your face being held and lifted by a large hand, Ambessa looked at you for a moment before letting go of your chin.

"You looked intimate the way you were riding her." she spoke again. "I suppose I don't need to advise you on the hazards of professional entanglements."

"I sincerely apologize, General. It won't happen again." you said, your voice sounding small.

Ambessa looked down from above, let out a satisfied sigh, and left.

You grunted as you delivered two consecutive blows with the blade to the inanimate doll's neck. Carissa was no longer your training partner. Now you trained individually in the training room that had the worn-out wooden dolls.

Sighing, you pulled out the large blade of the knife that had stuck in the wood. As you stepped away to stab the doll in the stomach, you heard the door open and heavy footsteps enter the training room, followed by the deep voice you had heard from very close by a few days before.

"Haven't they ever told you not to stand with your back to the door?" Ambessa asked and you turned in time to see her pick up one of the large knives that was laid out on a table in the corner.

She wore her training clothes, the sports bra that showed off her toned belly, her arms covered by cloth armbands.

You straightened your posture and tilted your head slightly, "General."

"Leave the doll alone, let's see if you can land your blows on me." she ordered, approaching you.

"Pardon?" you frowned, confused.

"I don't like repeating myself, child," she said, her voice heavier this time. "Fight me."

You swallowed hard, knowing you couldn't disregard her orders. Biting your lower lip in insecurity, you advanced on her, moving the blade in the strokes you were used to making.

All to be knocked to the ground in almost the same second, the blade being ripped from your hand.

"You’re sloppy and predictable. Everything the enemy expects.” Ambessa hovered above you, holding both blades in her hands. “You’ll die the second you step foot in the war.”

She threw the blades to the ground and pulled you up by your arm, before starting to randomly strike you with her hands, making you put your hands in front of your body to defend yourself.

She pulled one of your arms and raised her body, passing her legs over you, hitting your face with her right foot. You fell again, feeling your nose bleed.

Training with her continued for weeks. Weeks where you felt anxious whenever the time to see her approached. At one point, you longed to be near her, her body heavy on yours when she pinned you to the ground while teaching.

Learning from a war veteran proved to be rewarding, as you improved and improved a lot. But no reward compared to seeing her almost every day.

As unbelievable as it may seem, Ambessa was patient at one point, her voice softening as she taught you something you didn't already know.

This made your heart beat faster.

Your breathing was faster and you could feel your lungs burning, but you couldn't stop. Ambessa's blows didn't slow down, she advanced violently towards you. Using one of your legs to unbalance her, you used the tip of the spear to make a tiny cut on her cheekbone, making her freeze for a moment.

Realizing what you had done, you opened your mouth to speak and reached out your hand towards her, who stood up on her own and walked towards you, leaving almost no space.

"General, what-" your words were cut off as she brought her large hands to either side of your face and bent over you, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss.

You brought them to her shoulders, sliding them down to the sides of her face. She gave light bites to your jaw and chin as she pulled away from your lips.

"You have a lot of courage for someone your size," she said without pulling away. "You've proven yourself worthy."

"I want you to be proud of me." you blurted out without thinking properly.

She let out a deep laugh and pulled away, taking the heat of her body away from you.

"You left a scar on me, that is honorable," she said, pulling the gold piercing from her lower lip. "Someone honorable should wear a symbol, a symbol that shows they are on my side."

She approached you again and fitted the gold piece to your lower lip, running one of her thick fingers over it.

After that day, you no longer stood among the other warriors. Ambessa allowed you to walk beside her, as Rictus. You proudly wore the gold piercing on your lower lip.

At the moment, on her orders, the army was moving from the fixed base to Viktor's hideout, crossing the unguarded bridge that connected the Noxian installations to the rest of Piltover. Of course she wasn't going to blend in.

You turned your face and looked down, seeing how far the bridge was from the water. A fall wouldn't kill, but drowning was imminent.

You turned your attention forward when you felt Ambessa's large hand on your waist, making you look at her with a frown, to which she continued with the same stoic expression as always, looking forward.

Suddenly, you felt the thud on your legs and your body being thrown out of the limits of the bridge, the only thing that kept you from falling was the large hand that held only one of yours.

Eyes wide with surprise and despair you looked up, finding Ambessa's sharp eyes staring at you coldly. She didn't say anything for a moment, the sound of the water below was the only thing present, as the army had stopped marching.

"What-" you groaned, feeling your arm start to ache, your legs swinging slightly. "Please."

"I warned you of the hazards of professional entanglements." she said simply, her voice devoid of any emotion.

You froze, feeling your chest hurt. But of course. How could you have been so stupid?

A warrior does not grow like this in the eyes of their general.

With your delay in responding, Ambessa stared at you for a while longer before pulling you up, leaving you hanging on your own, struggling to climb up the bridge.

When you managed to get up, you were breathing quickly, your heart was beating fast and she had already started walking again, with her army following her.

Sharp thoughts 1/2

Mel Medarda x fem!reader

Summary: Your friendship with Mel slowly begins to crumble.

Warnings: angst, unrequited love, suggestion of sexual acts.

Word Count: 1K

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

Mel was easily the best person you had ever met in your life. She was a spectacle in every way. Having her as your friend was comforting and opened many doors for you as an scientist and researcher.

Life seemed good for you, using a high-tech laboratory, with access to everything a scientist could want and thanks to Mel, contacts with several investors who might be interested in your work.

Unfortunately, Mel Medarda was too much for you.

You didn't notice when your heart started to swell when you thought about her, before you realized it, you could no longer think about her without letting out a sigh. Everything about her was... too much.

The delicate face, the graceful way she moves, the constant tinkling that is present due to her gold jewelry, the voice that seems to embrace you when she speaks to you.

You began to find yourself looking forward to her visits to your lab, or to going to see her in her luxurious quarters. This was why you worked so hard, because you loved your research, and so you had something interesting to show her. A reason to see her.

With that in mind, you stayed late in the lab, finishing a report on your latest research. You were going to show it to Mel and as a councilor, she was supposed to read it and debate whether or not to take your study to the next Council meeting.

Scanning quickly to make sure everything was okay, you stood up with a satisfied sigh. Mel's quarters weren't that far away.

You left the Academy building and walked quickly until you reached the large building where Mel's apartment was. Elora wouldn't be there at this time, and Mel had once said that you were welcome to visit her at any time. You entered the elevator and soon arrived in the lobby of the luxurious apartment. Feeling strange about the silence, you thought about calling her, but stopped when you thought you heard something. A sigh.

A moan.

You turned your head, towards where you knew Mel's suite was. You could have heard wrong, you were almost sure of that when you heard it again.

It was her voice. You were sure of it. Then she moaned again. A name this time. Jayce.

Jayce. Jayce Talis.

Your heart sank and your breath caught for a moment, until you realized you were invading her privacy. You turned and left, trying to do as little noise as possible.

You didn't see Mel for the next few days, not because you were trying to avoid her, but because you were busy working on something for Heimerdinger, and she was also working a lot, apparently.

That's why you were slightly startled when the door to your lab opened and the click of her heels was heard, followed by her melodious voice.

"Working so hard that you didn't have time to come see me?" she asked with a slight laugh in her voice. It irritated you.

"What do you mean?" you tried to focus on the project on your desk.

"I heard about the research you did, and that you gave it to Heimerdinger. Why didn't you bring it to me, like always?" she walked over to you and leaned against the desk.

"He was the first counselor I met when I finished, then." you lied, feeling the bitter taste in your mouth.

"Oh, so that's how it is." she let out a playful chuckle. "I thought we had an alliance."

Her presence felt too close, but you swallowed hard and lifted your face, meeting hers.

"Sorry, I just don't have much time to look for you." you sounded more irritated than you wanted.

Her relaxed expression faltered and she straightened her posture. "Hey, I'm just kidding." she brought one of her manicured hands to your forearm.

"Sorry." you shook your head and looked back at the notes on your desk. "I'm just... really annoyed with work."

"We all are. When you have some free time, why don't you come over to my place? I painted something new, I think you'll like it." she offered softly.

You nearly melted at her offer, the earlier irritation almost forgotten, “Sure, I’d love to.”

So that night you took the path you knew so well. The surprise this time wasn't as unpleasant as the last. Jayce was there again, lying down, his head in Mel's lap. She was comforting him about something. An intimate and tender moment. You turned around and left again.

Well, this time you were avoiding her. Leaving the lab at times when you knew she would visit you, avoiding the council building and staying away from her apartment. Elora even came to you, notifying you that Councilor Medarda wanted to see you, but you politely said that you were very busy.

Your irritation worsened when she appointed him as an advisor. It was at that moment that you knew you would never reach her level, no matter what you did.

Your favorite place to be away from the lab was the fountain in the park, with the purple leaves blowing in the wind. That's where you found yourself at the moment, absentmindedly playing with a pen in your hand, waiting for the time to pass.

"You told Elora you had too much work to take the time to see me." the velvety voice spoke from behind you, slightly irritated. "You don't seem very busy right now."

You turned your face to see her standing there, close to the bench where you were sitting.

"Counselor Medarda." you greeted politely. "Forgive me for the misunderstanding-"

"What joke is this?" she said more irritated than before, her serene face distorting into an angry expression. "What's gotten into you?"

"I have to work, Councilor, I'm afraid I'm not the richest woman in Piltover." you hinted. "I can't afford to lose my sponsorships."

"I work too, and at work I don't have many friends. That's why I value the few friendships I have." she walked up to you. "Like yours."

"Oh, you don't have any friends?" you scoffed. "And bed partners?"

"What?" she took a step back, her expression faltering.

"That's exactly what I witnessed when I went to you to deliver my research, counselor." you replied irritably. "But don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

Mel was silent, standing there as you walked back to your lab.

And would you go ahead and just cry? 3/3

Jinx × fem!reader | Caitlyn x sister!reader

Summary: Every action has a reaction.

Word Count: 2,9K

Warning: typical canon violence, mention of mental illness, arguments, gunshots, bombs, mourning.

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

This contains spoilers for Arcane S2.

< previous chapter

You would laugh at your thoughts if you weren't so nervous. Caitlyn grew up with you and convinced herself that you would give in and remain quiet while she descended on her mournful quest to Zaun?

Crossing to the other side of the bridge was harder this time, since your sister had indeed left the city full of Enforcers more alert than ever. You wrinkled your nose as you slid down the sewer pipe you found along the way, not knowing where it led to the Undercity.

The golden mask did its job of keeping the toxic air from coming into contact with your airways, but it was unsettling to have that on your face. You sighed in relief when you saw the familiar contours of Zaun as you carefully slid down a pipe.

You saw the Grey before you even set foot on the dirty floor of the alley, the green traces of the toxic gas spread everywhere, which was now deserted. Sneaking around, you managed to find them with great difficulty.

The air was sucked from your lungs as you finished climbing the stairs of the abandoned temple, seeing the scene before you: Caitlyn with the rifle pointed firmly forward, in the direction of Jinx, who was lying on the stone table. A little girl tightly clinging to her. Vi straddling them, her gauntlet raised.

Running quickly, you approached the scene, passing by Sevika lying on the ground. Maybe if you had been faster, the bullet wouldn't have hit you the moment you stood in front of your older sister. You heard Jinx shouting something behind you, almost pleading.

Letting out a soft groan, yo u paid little attention to your left shoulder, which was gradually beginning to bleed. Raising your right hand, you grabbed the barrel of the rifle, lowering it. Caitlyn looked at you with slightly wide eyes, breathing heavily.

"What are you...? How did you get here?" she asked, her voice breaking.

"Cait, please." you spoke less firmly than you intended, pain flaring in your shoulder. "Stop it, please."

You could see the pain flaring in her eyes, her gaze flickering between you and the people behind you.

"Get out of the way." she pulled the rifle barrel out of your hand. "Get out!"

"Let's go home, please." you pleaded.

Caitlyn didn't lower the gun, you heard footsteps approaching and soon Vi was at your side, her hands raised.

"Cait, stop it," she pleaded. "There's a child there."

You took the cue and looked back, seeing Jinx with her eyes fixed on you. Her pink irises were looking at you sadly, a few tears had fallen on her pale face. She was holding the little girl, who was clinging to her, tightly. You nodded subtly, hoping she would sense what you meant. She swallowed hard and nodded.

Everything will be okay.

You turned to face forward when you felt a sharp pain in your shoulder, making you groan and bring your hand to the wound. Thick blood stained your hand, causing you to breathe heavily. Caitlyn stared at your actions for a moment, before masking her emotions and staring coldly ahead.

She gripped the rifle angrily, her finger on the trigger. You frowned. She was going to shoot again, but it was Vi who was in front of the gun now, not you. You held your breath and closed your eyes as she pulled the trigger.

Silence reigned over the place for a while, only the sound of heavy breathing was present. Opening your eyes, you breathed a sigh of relief when you saw the barrel of Caitlyn's rifle crushed by Vi's gauntlets, who were holding the gun down.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sevika stagger to her feet and walk over to one of the walls, feeling around until she found something and activated a mechanism.

"No, no, no! It wasn't supposed to be like this!" you heard Jinx exclaim before Janna's giant mural shattered and a large amount of furious wind began to pour out of it.

You barely had time to register anything else before you were violently pushed by the wind, which was mixed with Grey. You were thrown away from the room, groaning as your injured shoulder hit a rusty pipe, where you held on. You saw Vi doing the same, a few feet below you, with Caitlyn holding her hand tightly.

You fell hard as the wind stopped, your vision going black for a moment as your injured shoulder hit the ground. Vi and Caitlyn's blurred voices were close to you, altered. They were arguing about something.The sound of a thud was heard, followed by a groan and a low cry. You groaned and tried to get up, hearing the footsteps of heavy boots approaching, soon feeling Caitlyn's slender arms around you, pulling you up cautiously.

When Caitlyn wrapped her arms around you and your vision cleared, you saw Violet lying on the floor, her hand on her stomach. She was the one crying. Caitlyn guided you up a flight of stairs, supporting your body with hers. As you climbed, she didn’t look back.

The bullet wound in your left shoulder had been stitched up and was healing. The same couldn’t be said for your relationship with your sister. Caitlyn seemed more and more distant and you were no different. The silence in the mansion was deafening.

Caitlyn seemed like a different person now. Spending more and more time with General Medarda, sleeping with one of the officers who was on her staff. It seemed like self-destruction, from your point of view.

And you... well, siblings are each other's mirror images. You were in a bad way, too. Spending most of your days in your room or in the laboratory in one of the mansion's poorly frequented corridors.

You loved working on your projects, but what little excitement was crushed when you automatically thought of Jinx while working. 'Jinx would think this is cool, Jinx would like to see this, Jinx could help me solve this.'

At least she was okay. The injury to you shoulder had been worth it.

Sighing, you leaned back over your desk, looking at the notes you were making, you had barely started writing again when the heavy door opened. Lifting your head in slight irritation at being interrupted, you frowned even more when you saw Caitlyn standing there, in her uniform.

"I didn't find you in your room, I thought you would be here." she spoke softly, looking a little embarrassed.

"A while ago, a certain commander threatened to arrest me because I didn't wait for permission to enter her room." you said softly, looking back at your notes. She laughed softly and you made a satisfied expression. "What are you looking for me for?"

She crossed the room in soft steps and leaned against the table, crossing her arms in front of her chest, sighing softly. "How's your shoulder?"

"It's... fine? It's healing." you raised an eyebrow. "But you came here to ask that?"

She let out a sigh and closed her eyes, bringing a hand up to rub the crease that had formed on her forehead.

"I need... I need to ask you a favor." she turned to you. "Before you curse at me or fight with me, I need you to hear me."

You looked at her expectantly, your eyes widening and your eyebrows raised again.

"I want you to come with me and Ambessa, to get something and someone," she continued, encouraged by your silence. "We have a suspicion that something we're looking for is in the fissures."

"And what does that have to do with me?" you asked.

"Besides what we're looking for, let's take the opportunity to try to locate Jinx." you opened your mouth to protest and she held up her hands asking for patience. "Let me explain."

"I thought you had already forgotten about that." you closed your expression.

"I asked you to pay attention." she snorted.

"Did you come here to ask me to help you hunt her? Have you lost your mind?" you raised your voice, standing up from your chair.

"We're not going to hunt anyone down, I just want her to pay for her crimes." she walked over to you. "That's the logical thing to do. Are you so blinded by her that you can't think rationally?"

"Don't start that again! I know she should pay for her crimes, but we both know what will happen to her if she goes to jail. The sentence won't be fair, they'll want to punish her for crimes she doesn't even remember committing, Caitlyn." you said, feeling your chest hurt.

"These crimes don't cease to exist because she doesn't remember," she nearly growled. "She killed our mother."

"I know!" you yelled, turning your angry face towards her. "You don't need to remind me of that again."

"And you forgave her," she grumbled, her face twisted in anger.

Sighing, you shook your head. "This isn't going anywhere."

"Not if you don't trust me." she approached with soft steps, placing her hand on his good shoulder. "I don't want to fight anymore, I didn't come here to fight."

"I can't do this to her. She needs help, not to be trapped for the rest of her life." your voice trembled.

“She’ll get help, and she’ll be sentenced to the equivalent of her crimes.” Caitlyn’s voice softened, her tender gaze directed at you. “You’ll be able to see her whenever you want.”

"She'll never forgive me." you replied, staring into her eyes with pain. "You don't understand."

"If we testify on her behalf, she won't be in jail for as long." she reached out to caress the side of your face. "I know how you feel."

You pulled away from her touch and crossed the room, stopping in front of the window. “You have no idea.”

Looking up at the large iron gates inlaid with your family crest, you realized. Caitlyn would never stop. She wouldn’t give up on going after Jinx. The pain in your shoulder returned, making you clench one of your fists.

"No one's going to hurt her, right?" you turned to Caitlyn. "If you promise me no one will touch her, I'll help you."

"I just want her arrested, that's all." she replied.

You knew you would quickly find her among the residents of Viktor's community, her blue hair made her stand out. Your face lit up when you saw her long braids in the distance, she was sitting on a rock with the same little girl from before.

Walking at a fast pace, you barely had time to speak before the little girl pointed at you.

"Boo!" you jumped in front of Jinx.

Her big eyes widened as she stood up and spat the grass she had been chewing onto the ground. The shocked expression only lasted a few seconds and soon she was clinging to you, only to pull away again and look you in the eye.

"You're okay." she said, her eyes darting to look at you fully.

"Why wouldn't I be okay?" you joked. "I'm with you."

"Last time I saw you, you'd been shot." she assumed a playful expression. "My hero!" she stood on one leg and threw herself at you, waving dramatically.

You were going to answer, but the quiet little girl started jumping excitedly at what Jinx said, you smiled slightly and pushed Jinx so she would let go of you.

"Is this yours?" you gestured.

"This is Isha." she walked over to the little girl, bending down and pushing the large helmet she wore on her head. "Surprise! Now we're both her big sisters."

"Oh? She just chose us to take care of her?" you held out your hand to Isha, who took it and you shook it quickly, making her laugh. "Poor her."

Jinx laughed and stood up, wrapping one of her thin arms around your shoulder and starting walking, looking back to see Isha continuing to play.

"You know, I... missed you." her slightly hoarse voice expressed sincerity. "I thought I wouldn't see you again."

You turned your face to face her: "You won't be able to get rid of me that easily."

"How lucky I am." she spoke again with the same playful tone as always, climbing onto one of the metal structures, extending her hand to help you climb up as well. "How did you find me?"

Your stomach sank and you quickly covered it up. “I always know where you are.”

She let out another giggle and lay down, pulling your arm so you could lie down next to her, your legs dangling over the edge. Just like they did on the giant propellers in her hideout. Staring at nothing in particular, you let out an amused snort as she lifted her left hand, showing you the contraption that was now replacing her middle finger.

"What happened to your finger?" you asked.

"Your lovely sister Lieutenant Colonel shot my hand." she sighed, lowering her hand again.

"She's a commander, actually." you corrected. "She never misses a shot."

"So she just wanted to tear off one of my fingers? Cool." she laughed hoarsely. So, do you want to see my dad?"

"Your dad?" you frowned, remembering what happened with Silco. "I thought your dad-"

"Look." she sat down and pointed to one of the rooms, which had a glass roof.

Your breath caught when you saw it. The thing Ambessa wanted, the beast she hunted with determination, was lying there, sleeping peacefully.

"Is that thing your father?" you asked without realizing it, and felt Jinx playfully elbow you in the ribs.

"Hey, he has a name, and it's not 'thing.'" she said softly. "It's Vander. We came here to heal him."

You didn't respond to her explanations, instead you changed the subject and she started babbling again. Everything seemed normal again. Everything seemed fine when you were with her, listening to her babble about whatever it was. At one point, Isha came to you, carrying fruits and other things.

"Here, eat!" Jinx pushed one of the fruits into your hand as she bit into one herself, revealing the juicy, blue insides. "I've already eaten a lot," she said with her mouth full.

You bit into the plump fruit, feeling it fill your mouth. Jinx turned around and started fiddling with what Isha had brought for her, making you frown. “I thought you weren’t allowed to bring weapons in here.”

"Do you think I would walk around unarmed?" she scoffed, slinging the pistol at her hip.

You just sighed, looking back forward, your face contorting in confusion when you saw Caitlyn with that horrible doctor, standing next to Jinx's father.

"What is he doing here?" you heard Jinx's stern voice beside you and turned your head to look at her, seeing her glare at the man.

"Jinx, I need-"

You didn't have time to finish. It all happened very quickly.

Jinx jumped from the roof to help Caitlyn when she stopped the doctor from injecting something into Vander. Ambessa's warrior went after the two, but you couldn't help, seeing Isha looking around without knowing what to do.

You grabbed her hand and climbed down from where you were sitting, looking around for help. You didn't remember when Isha let go of your hand. Ambessa's warriors were everywhere, Vander looked savage now, you didn't have any weapons in your hand. Caitlyn suddenly appeared, with Vi beside her.

You managed to defend yourself from one of the soldiers, picking up his spear from the ground, but it didn't last long when you were pushed and it fell from your hand. As you stood up, you heard Jinx's scream and looked around desperately to try to find her. Then you saw Isha, with her little hands around the pistol, pointing it at the sky. With a gasp of terror, you witnessed the flash of the explosion illuminate the sky. And your vision went black.

War is deafening. Your ears rang all the time with the sound of gunshots, metal chains and death. The smell was also strong. You stood firm at the post where Caitlyn had asked you to stay, hidden, with the scope of your rifle helping you see in the distance.

You fired every now and then when you saw someone approaching the team that was taking your bomb to the giant anomaly that was pulling Viktor's cocoon through the destroyed streets. You were sure it would work. The bomb would explode as soon as the needle reached the end.

You had to run away from where you were when Ambessa signaled for someone to shoot you. Running almost aimlessly through the streets, you stopped when you heard a familiar sound in the sky.

The few minutes Jinx spent firing at the Noxian forces filled your body with hope. But that was all crushed when the airship crashed into the Hexgate tower. And you knew nothing was going to be okay when you saw the familiar explosion of the monkey bomb as you entered the place.

Your scream must have been loud and painful, but you weren't sure. The pain numbed you and you couldn't hear anything else.

You didn't know how much time had passed since the incident. Your pastime now was sitting on the roof, with your legs dangling over the edge. The destroyed head of the monkey bomb was a comfort, in a way. You placed it on your lap and pulled the small piece of white paper and the lighter from your pocket, placing the flame on one end of the paper and releasing it into the air.

What were you going to do now? She never taught you to forget her.

With a shaky sigh, you squeezed the rest of the monkey bomb and closed your eyes.

"Why are you holding that old thing?" a husky, playful voice asked behind you.

Eyes wide, you turned to look.

Luly | 20s | she/her | bi girl | writer ig | multifandom

masterlists ↠

ao3 profile ↠

i write for: ★ arcane ★ dune ★ tlou ★ hotd ★

(dividers by @firefly-graphics)

The Gray Reunion

Vi x reader

Words: 1.5k

Warnings: Violence, mentions of illness, blood, slightly spicy kisses ;)

Summary: In the midst of the chaos, you struggle to help the people of the Lanes. The truth behind the disaster sparks a confrontation that will test your bonds

Note:English is not my first language, sorry

In the past few hours, your modest apartment had turned into chaos. At least a dozen people had knocked on your door seeking help, intoxicated by something you hadn’t seen in years.

They could barely fit into the small living room, which also served as your kitchen and bedroom, waiting for you to help them, coughing out toxic fumes. Everyone expected you, just as your father had done in the past, to help or offer a solution, but you were completely lost, fumbling with medical supplies that had been stored away for years.

"The gray," murmured an older woman who was holding her husband as he struggled to breathe.

"That’s impossible," you replied. "We haven’t had problems with that in years, the ventilation system..."

"Then there must be a leak," she interrupted, raising her voice before a violent cough cut her off. You watched as her hand was splattered with blood. She inhaled deeply before continuing, "I’ve been through this before, but we don’t have the years on us anymore. Your father treated it countless times. Doesn’t he have notes somewhere?"

You sighed in defeat. "I’ve lost most of Dad’s things over the years. All I have left is what you see." You placed the stethoscope on a child’s back to listen to his breathing. "There’s nothing I can do. We just have to wait for the lungs to clean themselves... and stay far from the leak."

A collective groan arose from the people packed into your small space. "And how are we supposed to do that? We live there! Where can we go?" Various complaints began to rise.

"I wish I had an answer for you, but I don’t. We just have to wait until they repair the leak."

"They’re not going to fix it! It’s those damn enforcers! They’re killing us to get to Jinx!" Another wave of murmurs rippled through the room.

You tried to remain calm. Could that be true? Were the people above really capable of poisoning everyone just to catch Jinx? Those above had taken so much from you already that it seemed entirely plausible. But then an image came to mind—Violet. She was in Piltover now, and she would never let this happen, not to the place that had been her home for so many years and still was yours. Right?

You continued your work, trying to calm the rebellion brewing in your living room, tending to the most severe cases of nosebleeds and eye hemorrhages. But there wasn’t much more you could do. Around three in the morning, the last person finally left.

Exhausted, you collapsed onto your bed, utterly defeated. Chances were, all the patients you’d seen today would return tomorrow with new symptoms. It was impossible to recover from the gray while constantly exposed to it. You knew that if it was a crack, it would take years to fix. And if it was intentional, if they were hunting Jinx... that would also take time. There was no way they’d catch her.

A knock on the door kept you from falling completely asleep. You cursed under your breath—new patients. Your father’s voice echoed in your mind, reminding you how he wouldn’t rest until he’d helped the last person who needed him. You repeated the phrase to yourself before getting up to answer the door, only to be met with a great surprise.

Vi stood there, but the most shocking thing was her outfit. She was dressed as a full-fledged officer, an enforcer. You couldn’t suppress a gasp of utter disbelief. You had spent years of your life together; you knew her story as well as your own, and never would you have imagined the possibility of her wearing something like that—not even as a joke.

"I’m truly surprised," you murmured. She scoffed in irritation. You stepped aside to let her in, and she dropped her new, heavy gloves onto your floor. You bit your lip to keep from scolding her.

The past few days had been madness: Vi’s return, the search for Jinx, and your responsibilities trying to honor your father’s legacy had left you with barely a moment to breathe.

"Lots of patients?" she asked, trying to start a conversation.

"Too many," you replied, collapsing onto the bed again. She still stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. "You can lie down if you want... Unless you’re scared of dirtying that pretty uniform." She let out a short laugh before lying down next to you.

"I’ve barely seen you since you came back... I don’t think I ever got to tell you how happy I am that you’re here... Despite everything."

"Yeah, I suppose the first hug you gave me said it all."

"I mean it, Vi," you said, turning to face her. "Everything got so hard, but now you’re here, and I feel like things will get better."

She smiled faintly. "Yeah, we just have to fix a few things, and everything will improve." She propped herself up to sit beside you. "You look really pretty," she added. "Those dark circles suit you."

You couldn’t help but laugh. For just a moment, all the bad things disappeared. It was just the two of you in your small apartment—no Jinx, no gray, no problems in the Lanes. Just you two. Without thinking, you leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. She froze for a moment.

"I thought you missed me," she teased.

"I did."

"That’s not a reunion kiss. This is." Without warning, she leaned over and kissed you deeply. You welcomed her eagerly—it was like a breath of fresh air, something rare where you’d grown up. The kisses grew more intense, and your hands wandered over her torso and back. Vi positioned herself on top of you, using her hand for support on your pillow. But she quickly pulled it back.

"What’s this?" she asked.

You looked to the side, confused, and saw a large bloodstain. You hadn’t even noticed it. You sighed. "I’m really sorry." You sat up slightly, but Vi didn’t move off you. You grabbed the pillow and threw it to the other side of the room. "It’s been such a complicated day with the ventilation cracks."

"Yeah, don’t worry. I’m not at my best, either."

"Doesn’t seem like it." You kissed her intensely again, and she adjusted immediately.

"When all this is over, we should go on a real date. Like dinner and all that cheesy stuff."

You laughed against her lips at her failed attempt at romance. "I just hope it’s soon."

"It will be," she declared confidently. "Once they catch Jinx, everything will get better, and life in the Lanes will change—just like Vander always wanted."

Vi’s hands slipped under your shirt as you shared another passionate kiss, but her words lingered in your mind.

"Wait, wait, no," you said, pushing her slightly so she moved off you.

"Oh, do you want to take control, doll?" she teased.

"Did you have anything to do with this?" She looked confused, so you pushed her again to sit beside you. "The gas? Was it you?"

Vi stayed silent, hesitant to answer.

"Is this some kind of joke? You’re poisoning us just to catch your sister?" you shouted, furious.

"Hey, hey, it’s not like that... I mean, yes, but not how you think."

"You bitch," you spat, jumping out of bed. "Do you even understand the damage you’ve caused?"

"Listen to me. We used the gray to clear the streets, to keep people safe," she tried to explain.

"Used? Who’s ‘we’? You and your new enforcer friends? Well, you didn’t protect anyone!" You exploded. "Do you have any idea how many people you hurt? At least fifty came here today!"

"She’s a murderer! She killed half the council, she—"

"She’s not a traitor," you cut her off sharply.

The room fell silent as you watched Vi clench her fists in anger. You’d struck a nerve.

"Did you really do this for her? Or did your new enforcer friend convince you?" you spat, unable to hide your disgust.

"Don’t call her that!" Vi’s hands grabbed the collar of your shirt, pushing you against the wall.

You stayed inches apart for what felt like ten seconds before she let go, though she didn’t step back. Her heavy breathing mixed with yours, and you could smell the perfume from her uniform—a scent impossible to find down here.

"Get out of my house," you whispered.

"You have to understand—"

"Get out!"

Vi sighed loudly, grabbed her heavy gloves from the floor, and walked to the door. You opened it for her, stepping aside. She crossed the threshold without meeting your gaze but stopped in the doorway.

"I hope your new friend is worth it." She didn’t turn around, just kept walking down the dark street, away from your home.

You couldn’t stop the tears from falling.

What had you expected? Nothing had stayed the same over the years.

You locked the door before collapsing into bed. Tomorrow would be another hard day in the Lanes.

my troubled wife 🤍🙏

HEXED HEART

Ambessa x f!reader

Summary: Recently, Piltover has fallen weak ever since the hexcore stopped working, and the scientists who may have been able to fix it (Heimerdinger, Jayce, Viktor) had disappeared, leaving Ambessa frustrated. However, when she heard news of you, an intelligent scientist, possibly having the skills to fix it, she immediately took action. Even if it meant using a hint of sweet manipulation.

The remnants of Piltover smoldered under the weight of its own hubris. The once-bustling City of Progress was a shadow of itself, its streets quieter, its golden spires tarnished. The Hexcore had faltered, leaving the city vulnerable, its famed defenses useless.

In her laboratory perched high above the city, you worked tirelessly. The other brilliant minds—Heimerdinger, Jayce, Viktor—had all disappeared, leaving you to hold the fort. You were the last hope of Piltover, though the burden had grown suffocating. Every attempt to stabilize the Hexcore had failed. You stared at the latest iteration of your work, frustration and exhaustion gnawing at your edges.

The heavy thud of boots startled you from your thoughts. You turned to see soldiers, clad in Noxian red and black, entering your lab. At their helm was her. Ambessa Medarda, the warlord who cast a shadow wherever she walked. She was as commanding as the stories claimed—tall, statuesque, and radiating an aura of power that seemed to fill every inch of your lab.

She appraised you with sharp, calculating eyes, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

“I’ve been watching you,” she said, her voice as smooth as silk but edged with steel. “Piltover’s lone genius. Working herself into the ground to save this broken city.”

You squared your shoulders, attempting to summon the confidence that exhaustion had stripped away. “If you’ve come to ridicule me, I assure you, I don’t have the time.”

“Oh, I didn’t come to mock you,” she said, stepping closer. Her soldiers fanned out, blocking any potential escape routes. “I came because Piltover’s failures can serve Noxus. You can serve Noxus.”

Your blood chilled. “I don’t serve anyone.”

Ambessa chuckled, low and amused. “Not yet.” She closed the distance between you in a few strides, her imposing figure towering over yours. “But you will.”

Before you could retort, she reached out, her gloved hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. The touch was startlingly gentle, disarming. You stiffened, but Ambessa merely tilted her head, her gaze softening, her smile turning warmer.

“You’re exhausted,” she murmured, her tone shifting to something softer, almost tender. “This city doesn’t deserve you. They’ve wrung you dry, haven’t they? And still, no thanks. No progress.”

Her words hit a nerve, and she saw it in the flicker of your expression.

“I—” you began, but her fingers against your jaw silenced you.

“You deserve better,” she said, her voice a near whisper now. Her thumb traced the line of your jaw, her touch featherlight. “A mind like yours shouldn’t be wasted on people who only know how to take. I can offer you more, darling. Resources. Freedom. Respect.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of her gaze pinning you in place. It was intoxicating, the way she looked at you—not with disdain or pity, but with something that felt dangerously like admiration.

“You just want to use me,” you said, though the words came out weaker than intended.

Ambessa smiled, a sly curve of her lips. “Of course, I do. But I’ll give you what Piltover never could. I’ll make you feel like the treasure you are.”

Her hand slid from your jaw to your neck, her thumb brushing over your pulse. You were hyper-aware of her closeness, the warmth radiating from her as she leaned in. Her lips grazed the corner of your mouth, a ghost of a kiss, before trailing along your cheek to your ear.

“Do you feel it?” she murmured, her breath warm against your skin. “The power we could wield together?”

You shivered despite yourself, torn between resistance and the allure of her promises. She was weaving a net around you, each touch, each word drawing you tighter.

Her hand slid down to your shoulder, her fingers kneading gently, soothing the tension that had built from days—no, weeks—of relentless pressure. You hated how easily she read you, how her touch seemed to draw out the ache you’d buried beneath sheer determination.

“I don’t… I can’t just abandon Piltover,” you stammered, though the conviction in your voice wavered.

Ambessa chuckled, a rich, velvety sound that sent a shiver down your spine. She pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, her expression equal parts understanding and predatory.

“Who said anything about abandoning them?” she cooed, tracing her fingers along the edge of your collarbone. “Think of it as… redirecting your efforts. Piltover has taken everything from you. Why not take something back?”

Her lips ghosted over your temple, and you felt a strange, heady mix of indignation and desire. Every instinct screamed to resist, to fight back against her intoxicating manipulation. But her words had rooted themselves in your mind, growing like thorns around your resolve.

She pressed closer, her presence overwhelming as her other hand cupped your cheek. Her thumb brushed over your skin with a tenderness that contradicted the raw power she emanated.

“I see the brilliance in you,” she murmured. “The kind of brilliance that could reshape the world. But brilliance needs the right soil to grow, and Piltover has done nothing but starve you.”

Her lips found your jawline, a soft, lingering kiss that left your heart pounding. You hated how your breath hitched, how her words sank deeper, wrapping themselves around your doubts and frustrations like a vice.

“I could give you everything,” she whispered, her voice dripping with promise. “Imagine a lab equipped with anything you could dream of. Resources, soldiers to protect you, and the freedom to create without petty councils and politics dragging you down.”

You hesitated, your mind a whirlwind. “And what would you demand in return?”

Ambessa leaned back just enough to meet your gaze, her smirk sharp but her eyes still softened with that feigned tenderness. “Only your cooperation. Your brilliance, dedicated to something greater than this dying city.” Her hand slid down your arm, fingers curling gently around your wrist. “And, of course, you—with all your fire and passion. A partner. An ally.”

Her lips found your wrist, pressing a kiss to the delicate skin there. It was such an intimate gesture that it left you reeling.

“You’re lying,” you whispered, though your voice lacked conviction.

Ambessa smiled again, her confidence unshaken. “I never lie, darling. I may manipulate, I may seduce, but I always tell the truth.” She lifted your hand to her lips, brushing another kiss over your knuckles. “You’ll see. The only chains you’ll wear with me are the ones you choose.”

You trembled, torn between the iron will you’d cultivated in solitude and the dangerous allure of her promises. Her every touch, every word, was carefully calculated, but there was a kernel of sincerity in her eyes that was impossible to ignore.

And then, her tone shifted, low and husky, her lips brushing against your ear. “Or you can stay here,” she murmured, her voice laced with a mockery so subtle it felt like silk slipping over a blade. “Alone. Frustrated. Watching this city crumble around you while you waste away in obscurity.”

The weight of her words settled over you like a storm cloud. The enormity of your failure, the futility of your work, pressed down harder than ever.

Ambessa saw the flicker of doubt in your eyes and leaned in, her lips brushing over your cheek again, her hands sliding to your waist. “Don’t think of it as surrender,” she whispered. “Think of it as liberation.”

Her lips finally found yours, soft and coaxing, her hands firm yet tender as they held you in place. For a moment, the world around you faded, leaving only the intoxicating warmth of her touch, the relentless pull of her presence.

When she finally pulled back, her smirk returned, triumphant but still laced with that maddening, feigned care.

“Take your time,” she said, stepping away as if to give you the illusion of choice. “But know this—I won’t wait forever. And neither will Piltover.”

She turned, her soldiers falling into step behind her, and the door shut with an ominous finality, leaving you alone in the silence of your lab.

Your knees buckled as you leaned against the nearest table, your mind spinning. You hated her, hated how easily she unraveled you. But you couldn’t deny the truth in her words.

And deep down, you wondered if the world Ambessa promised might be worth the price of your pride.

The silence of your lab was suffocating in the wake of her departure. You stood there, still trembling, your hand resting against the edge of your desk as if it might hold you together. You could still feel her touch, lingering like a brand on your skin, a reminder of the impossible decision she had presented.

Stay… or go?

You hadn’t realized how much you had needed an escape, how desperately you had longed for someone to see you beyond your failures. Ambessa had touched that part of you with ruthless precision. She had peeled away your pride, exposed the vulnerability that you’d spent so long burying beneath equations and inventions.

And now, you stood at the precipice of something you had once sworn to avoid.

The thought of continuing alone in Piltover, watching everything you had worked for crumble—your research, your hopes—seemed unbearable. The weight of it all crashed down on you like a ton of stone. Ambessa’s words, laced with promises of power, resources, and recognition, were beginning to sound like the only way out.

You closed your eyes, feeling your resolve slip through your fingers like sand.

Her touch had been gentle. Too gentle, and that had terrified you. She was a master at breaking down walls, and the way she had looked at you, with a mixture of admiration and something darker, had set your pulse racing. You had wanted her to touch you.

No, you needed her to touch you.

No more endless days in solitude. No more futile attempts at saving a city that didn’t care.

With a shaky breath, you made your decision.

Later that night, you stood before the door to Ambessa’s private quarters, your hands clammy, heart hammering. You’d walked here with purpose, though the journey had felt like an eternity. Every step had only brought you closer to the inevitable—an alliance forged in the heat of desperation. You knocked once, and the door opened before you could even pull your hand back.

Ambessa stood there, her expression unreadable as her eyes traveled over you.

“You’ve come.” Her voice was steady, but there was a gleam in her eyes that hinted at the satisfaction of a predator about to claim its prize.

You swallowed hard, the weight of the moment pressing down on you, but you refused to let it show. “I’m here,” you said, your voice firmer than you felt, “because I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

Ambessa stepped aside, her lips curling into a smile. “I knew you would come around.”

As you entered, the lavish, dimly lit room seemed almost too luxurious for someone like you, but there was something intoxicating about it. The rich silks, the scent of something sweet and foreign in the air—everything spoke of power and control, the very things you had been so desperate to grasp.

Ambessa closed the door behind you with a soft click, and then she turned to face you, her eyes now intense with anticipation. “Tell me, darling… what is it you truly desire?” she asked, her voice low and coaxing.

You hesitated, but only for a second. Then the truth spilled from your lips. “I want to be… seen.”

Ambessa stepped toward you, a predatory smile playing on her lips. “Oh, I see you,” she purred. “I see you more clearly than anyone ever has.” She reached out, her fingers grazing your cheek with deliberate slowness, as though savoring the moment. “And now, I’ll make sure you’re never unseen again.”

She cupped your face gently, tilting your chin upward, and her gaze softened, as though she were savoring the power of the moment. “You were always meant for something greater than this city. But you needed a catalyst… someone to help you realize your true potential.”

Her touch was almost tender, but the undercurrent of control never left. She leaned in, her lips brushing your forehead with a softness that contrasted the fire in her eyes.

“I can give you everything,” she whispered, her voice filled with honeyed persuasion. “All you have to do is take my hand.”

A heat bloomed in your chest, rising to your cheeks, but it wasn’t embarrassment—it was the burning spark of surrender. Every part of you that had been torn between resistance and the seductive pull of her power now bent toward the inevitable.

You nodded, the words tumbling out in a quiet confession, “I’ll follow you.”

Ambessa’s lips curled into a triumphant, almost possessive smile. “Good.” She leaned in, her mouth capturing yours in a kiss that was both commanding and consuming. It was gentle at first, a slow burn that deepened with every press of her lips, every brush of her tongue. She held you with an intensity that made your knees weak, her hands roaming with practiced care, tracing your sides, your back, pulling you closer until you could feel the heat of her body against yours.

When she pulled back, breathless but satisfied, her fingers trailed down your spine, sending shivers of anticipation through you. “You belong to me now,” she said softly, her voice wrapped in a possessive sweetness. “And I’ll make sure you never regret it.”

You trembled, feeling the weight of her words settle over you, and for the first time in a long while, you realized you didn’t mind. You were hers. Completely.

In her arms, under her gaze, you were no longer the scientist who had failed. You were a tool—her tool—ready to be shaped and molded into something greater, something powerful. You had agreed, out of weakness, yes—but in that weakness, you had found something that felt like freedom.

And as Ambessa’s lips met your skin once more, tracing the delicate curve of your jaw, you wondered if this, this was what it meant to truly be seen.

my troubled wife 🤍🙏

HEXED HEART

Ambessa x f!reader

Summary: Recently, Piltover has fallen weak ever since the hexcore stopped working, and the scientists who may have been able to fix it (Heimerdinger, Jayce, Viktor) had disappeared, leaving Ambessa frustrated. However, when she heard news of you, an intelligent scientist, possibly having the skills to fix it, she immediately took action. Even if it meant using a hint of sweet manipulation.

The remnants of Piltover smoldered under the weight of its own hubris. The once-bustling City of Progress was a shadow of itself, its streets quieter, its golden spires tarnished. The Hexcore had faltered, leaving the city vulnerable, its famed defenses useless.

In her laboratory perched high above the city, you worked tirelessly. The other brilliant minds—Heimerdinger, Jayce, Viktor—had all disappeared, leaving you to hold the fort. You were the last hope of Piltover, though the burden had grown suffocating. Every attempt to stabilize the Hexcore had failed. You stared at the latest iteration of your work, frustration and exhaustion gnawing at your edges.

The heavy thud of boots startled you from your thoughts. You turned to see soldiers, clad in Noxian red and black, entering your lab. At their helm was her. Ambessa Medarda, the warlord who cast a shadow wherever she walked. She was as commanding as the stories claimed—tall, statuesque, and radiating an aura of power that seemed to fill every inch of your lab.

She appraised you with sharp, calculating eyes, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

“I’ve been watching you,” she said, her voice as smooth as silk but edged with steel. “Piltover’s lone genius. Working herself into the ground to save this broken city.”

You squared your shoulders, attempting to summon the confidence that exhaustion had stripped away. “If you’ve come to ridicule me, I assure you, I don’t have the time.”

“Oh, I didn’t come to mock you,” she said, stepping closer. Her soldiers fanned out, blocking any potential escape routes. “I came because Piltover’s failures can serve Noxus. You can serve Noxus.”

Your blood chilled. “I don’t serve anyone.”

Ambessa chuckled, low and amused. “Not yet.” She closed the distance between you in a few strides, her imposing figure towering over yours. “But you will.”

Before you could retort, she reached out, her gloved hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. The touch was startlingly gentle, disarming. You stiffened, but Ambessa merely tilted her head, her gaze softening, her smile turning warmer.

“You’re exhausted,” she murmured, her tone shifting to something softer, almost tender. “This city doesn’t deserve you. They’ve wrung you dry, haven’t they? And still, no thanks. No progress.”

Her words hit a nerve, and she saw it in the flicker of your expression.

“I—” you began, but her fingers against your jaw silenced you.

“You deserve better,” she said, her voice a near whisper now. Her thumb traced the line of your jaw, her touch featherlight. “A mind like yours shouldn’t be wasted on people who only know how to take. I can offer you more, darling. Resources. Freedom. Respect.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of her gaze pinning you in place. It was intoxicating, the way she looked at you—not with disdain or pity, but with something that felt dangerously like admiration.

“You just want to use me,” you said, though the words came out weaker than intended.

Ambessa smiled, a sly curve of her lips. “Of course, I do. But I’ll give you what Piltover never could. I’ll make you feel like the treasure you are.”

Her hand slid from your jaw to your neck, her thumb brushing over your pulse. You were hyper-aware of her closeness, the warmth radiating from her as she leaned in. Her lips grazed the corner of your mouth, a ghost of a kiss, before trailing along your cheek to your ear.

“Do you feel it?” she murmured, her breath warm against your skin. “The power we could wield together?”

You shivered despite yourself, torn between resistance and the allure of her promises. She was weaving a net around you, each touch, each word drawing you tighter.

Her hand slid down to your shoulder, her fingers kneading gently, soothing the tension that had built from days—no, weeks—of relentless pressure. You hated how easily she read you, how her touch seemed to draw out the ache you’d buried beneath sheer determination.

“I don’t… I can’t just abandon Piltover,” you stammered, though the conviction in your voice wavered.

Ambessa chuckled, a rich, velvety sound that sent a shiver down your spine. She pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, her expression equal parts understanding and predatory.

“Who said anything about abandoning them?” she cooed, tracing her fingers along the edge of your collarbone. “Think of it as… redirecting your efforts. Piltover has taken everything from you. Why not take something back?”

Her lips ghosted over your temple, and you felt a strange, heady mix of indignation and desire. Every instinct screamed to resist, to fight back against her intoxicating manipulation. But her words had rooted themselves in your mind, growing like thorns around your resolve.

She pressed closer, her presence overwhelming as her other hand cupped your cheek. Her thumb brushed over your skin with a tenderness that contradicted the raw power she emanated.

“I see the brilliance in you,” she murmured. “The kind of brilliance that could reshape the world. But brilliance needs the right soil to grow, and Piltover has done nothing but starve you.”

Her lips found your jawline, a soft, lingering kiss that left your heart pounding. You hated how your breath hitched, how her words sank deeper, wrapping themselves around your doubts and frustrations like a vice.

“I could give you everything,” she whispered, her voice dripping with promise. “Imagine a lab equipped with anything you could dream of. Resources, soldiers to protect you, and the freedom to create without petty councils and politics dragging you down.”

You hesitated, your mind a whirlwind. “And what would you demand in return?”

Ambessa leaned back just enough to meet your gaze, her smirk sharp but her eyes still softened with that feigned tenderness. “Only your cooperation. Your brilliance, dedicated to something greater than this dying city.” Her hand slid down your arm, fingers curling gently around your wrist. “And, of course, you—with all your fire and passion. A partner. An ally.”

Her lips found your wrist, pressing a kiss to the delicate skin there. It was such an intimate gesture that it left you reeling.

“You’re lying,” you whispered, though your voice lacked conviction.

Ambessa smiled again, her confidence unshaken. “I never lie, darling. I may manipulate, I may seduce, but I always tell the truth.” She lifted your hand to her lips, brushing another kiss over your knuckles. “You’ll see. The only chains you’ll wear with me are the ones you choose.”

You trembled, torn between the iron will you’d cultivated in solitude and the dangerous allure of her promises. Her every touch, every word, was carefully calculated, but there was a kernel of sincerity in her eyes that was impossible to ignore.

And then, her tone shifted, low and husky, her lips brushing against your ear. “Or you can stay here,” she murmured, her voice laced with a mockery so subtle it felt like silk slipping over a blade. “Alone. Frustrated. Watching this city crumble around you while you waste away in obscurity.”

The weight of her words settled over you like a storm cloud. The enormity of your failure, the futility of your work, pressed down harder than ever.

Ambessa saw the flicker of doubt in your eyes and leaned in, her lips brushing over your cheek again, her hands sliding to your waist. “Don’t think of it as surrender,” she whispered. “Think of it as liberation.”

Her lips finally found yours, soft and coaxing, her hands firm yet tender as they held you in place. For a moment, the world around you faded, leaving only the intoxicating warmth of her touch, the relentless pull of her presence.

When she finally pulled back, her smirk returned, triumphant but still laced with that maddening, feigned care.

“Take your time,” she said, stepping away as if to give you the illusion of choice. “But know this—I won’t wait forever. And neither will Piltover.”

She turned, her soldiers falling into step behind her, and the door shut with an ominous finality, leaving you alone in the silence of your lab.

Your knees buckled as you leaned against the nearest table, your mind spinning. You hated her, hated how easily she unraveled you. But you couldn’t deny the truth in her words.

And deep down, you wondered if the world Ambessa promised might be worth the price of your pride.

The silence of your lab was suffocating in the wake of her departure. You stood there, still trembling, your hand resting against the edge of your desk as if it might hold you together. You could still feel her touch, lingering like a brand on your skin, a reminder of the impossible decision she had presented.

Stay… or go?

You hadn’t realized how much you had needed an escape, how desperately you had longed for someone to see you beyond your failures. Ambessa had touched that part of you with ruthless precision. She had peeled away your pride, exposed the vulnerability that you’d spent so long burying beneath equations and inventions.

And now, you stood at the precipice of something you had once sworn to avoid.

The thought of continuing alone in Piltover, watching everything you had worked for crumble—your research, your hopes—seemed unbearable. The weight of it all crashed down on you like a ton of stone. Ambessa’s words, laced with promises of power, resources, and recognition, were beginning to sound like the only way out.

You closed your eyes, feeling your resolve slip through your fingers like sand.

Her touch had been gentle. Too gentle, and that had terrified you. She was a master at breaking down walls, and the way she had looked at you, with a mixture of admiration and something darker, had set your pulse racing. You had wanted her to touch you.

No, you needed her to touch you.

No more endless days in solitude. No more futile attempts at saving a city that didn’t care.

With a shaky breath, you made your decision.

Later that night, you stood before the door to Ambessa’s private quarters, your hands clammy, heart hammering. You’d walked here with purpose, though the journey had felt like an eternity. Every step had only brought you closer to the inevitable—an alliance forged in the heat of desperation. You knocked once, and the door opened before you could even pull your hand back.

Ambessa stood there, her expression unreadable as her eyes traveled over you.

“You’ve come.” Her voice was steady, but there was a gleam in her eyes that hinted at the satisfaction of a predator about to claim its prize.

You swallowed hard, the weight of the moment pressing down on you, but you refused to let it show. “I’m here,” you said, your voice firmer than you felt, “because I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

Ambessa stepped aside, her lips curling into a smile. “I knew you would come around.”

As you entered, the lavish, dimly lit room seemed almost too luxurious for someone like you, but there was something intoxicating about it. The rich silks, the scent of something sweet and foreign in the air—everything spoke of power and control, the very things you had been so desperate to grasp.

Ambessa closed the door behind you with a soft click, and then she turned to face you, her eyes now intense with anticipation. “Tell me, darling… what is it you truly desire?” she asked, her voice low and coaxing.

You hesitated, but only for a second. Then the truth spilled from your lips. “I want to be… seen.”

Ambessa stepped toward you, a predatory smile playing on her lips. “Oh, I see you,” she purred. “I see you more clearly than anyone ever has.” She reached out, her fingers grazing your cheek with deliberate slowness, as though savoring the moment. “And now, I’ll make sure you’re never unseen again.”

She cupped your face gently, tilting your chin upward, and her gaze softened, as though she were savoring the power of the moment. “You were always meant for something greater than this city. But you needed a catalyst… someone to help you realize your true potential.”

Her touch was almost tender, but the undercurrent of control never left. She leaned in, her lips brushing your forehead with a softness that contrasted the fire in her eyes.

“I can give you everything,” she whispered, her voice filled with honeyed persuasion. “All you have to do is take my hand.”

A heat bloomed in your chest, rising to your cheeks, but it wasn’t embarrassment—it was the burning spark of surrender. Every part of you that had been torn between resistance and the seductive pull of her power now bent toward the inevitable.

You nodded, the words tumbling out in a quiet confession, “I’ll follow you.”

Ambessa’s lips curled into a triumphant, almost possessive smile. “Good.” She leaned in, her mouth capturing yours in a kiss that was both commanding and consuming. It was gentle at first, a slow burn that deepened with every press of her lips, every brush of her tongue. She held you with an intensity that made your knees weak, her hands roaming with practiced care, tracing your sides, your back, pulling you closer until you could feel the heat of her body against yours.

When she pulled back, breathless but satisfied, her fingers trailed down your spine, sending shivers of anticipation through you. “You belong to me now,” she said softly, her voice wrapped in a possessive sweetness. “And I’ll make sure you never regret it.”

You trembled, feeling the weight of her words settle over you, and for the first time in a long while, you realized you didn’t mind. You were hers. Completely.

In her arms, under her gaze, you were no longer the scientist who had failed. You were a tool—her tool—ready to be shaped and molded into something greater, something powerful. You had agreed, out of weakness, yes—but in that weakness, you had found something that felt like freedom.

And as Ambessa’s lips met your skin once more, tracing the delicate curve of your jaw, you wondered if this, this was what it meant to truly be seen.

ARCANE MASTERLIST

Powder/Jinx

And would you go ahead and just cry?

Caitlyn Kiramman

And would you go ahead and just cry?

I hope she never leaves me, please, God, you must believe me

Vi

I hope she never leaves me, please, God, you must believe me

Under The Influence (of Regret)

Mel Medarda

Sharp thoughts part 2

Ambessa Medarda

The uncertainty of coexistence