#<- this will be the tag im using for this for now

[jhyoos]

Of Roses And Steel

chapter two: a wolf in sheep’s clothing

mentions : royalty au, medieval au, romance, strong reader, silco is king, heartbreak, ruined friendships, light smut (im working on it 😔), hate kissing, mel having the audacity, cute pet surprise!, another long ass chapter.

notes: if I didn’t tag you in the taglist I apologize just comment again and I will next time

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Ever since that fateful night when you poured your heart out to Sevika and were met with her cold, brutal rejection, things between you had been strained to the point of breaking. The once-familiar dynamic, filled with tension and unspoken affection, had disintegrated into a void of silence and avoidance.

Sevika had withdrawn completely, excusing herself from her role as your combat instructor. She told your father that she needed to focus on training rookies, and though he accepted her reasoning without question, you knew better. It wasn’t about the rookies. It was about you. He hired someone else in her place—a knight far less intimidating, far less skilled. But they weren’t her. They could never be her.

Dinner was no better. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look in her direction. She sat at her usual spot, stoic and silent, picking at her meal with none of the sharp wit or dry commentary that used to fill the silence. You kept your focus on Mel and your father, forcing yourself to laugh at Mel’s jokes and respond to your father’s questions, even though you felt Sevika’s presence like a shadow, oppressive and inescapable. The air between you was suffocating, a palpable tension that no one dared to acknowledge.

But the uneasy peace shattered when your father cleared his throat, glancing between you and Sevika. “I won’t be able to walk you to your chambers tonight, daughter,” he said, his tone firm. “Sevika, see that she gets there safely.”

You froze, your fork hovering over your plate. Sevika’s gaze flicked up briefly, her face as unreadable as ever, but you could see the slight tightening of her jaw. She inclined her head, her voice cold and emotionless. “As you wish, Your Grace.”

You didn’t dare protest—not in front of your father—but the idea of walking alongside her, even for the brief journey to your chambers, made your chest tighten.

The walk was quiet, the sound of your footsteps echoing through the halls. The hallway you entered was all too familiar, its flickering torchlight casting shadows against the stone walls. This was the hallway where you’d confessed everything, where you’d been so cruelly turned away.

When you couldn’t bear the silence any longer, you stopped in your tracks, turning to face her. “I can walk myself. You don’t have to babysit me,” you said, your voice sharper than you intended.

Sevika’s expression didn’t shift; she remained cold, detached. “It’s an order from the king. I have to.” Her tone left no room for argument. “We can just walk in silence.”

“Fine,” you muttered, turning away before she could see the frustration written on your face.

You walked ahead of her, putting as much distance between you as the narrow hallway allowed. The tension in the air was stifling, and the echoes of your footsteps only served to remind you of her presence, of the chasm that now separated you.

When you reached the door to your chambers, you didn’t give her a chance to speak. Without so much as a glance in her direction, you opened the door and stepped inside, closing it firmly behind you.

Your servants were already waiting, their arms full of towels and soaps. They greeted you warmly, but you couldn’t bring yourself to smile. They helped you undress, their chatter filling the quiet as you climbed into the waiting bath.

The hot water enveloped you, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to sink into its warmth, closing your eyes as the tension in your body began to ease. The night’s awkwardness, the ache of rejection that still lingered, the suffocating presence of Sevika��it all seemed to dissolve, if only for a little while.

After your bath, you let the warmth of the water soak into your skin a little longer before stepping out and letting the servants wrap you in a soft robe. They helped you into your nightgown, the fabric flowing like water against your body as they carefully pinned and curled your hair for the following day. Their chatter filled the air, light and pleasant, but your thoughts drifted elsewhere.

When they finished, you dismissed them with a soft “Thank you” and climbed into bed, the familiar coolness of the sheets wrapping around you. It was only as you settled into the quiet of the room that the emptiness of it struck you. This was the first night in quite some time that you’d slept alone, without your best friend by your side. A pang of loneliness rippled through you, but you sighed softly, resigning yourself to the solitude. At least tonight, there was no forced conversation, no awkward silences. You let your body sink into the mattress, rolling onto your side as your eyelids grew heavy, and soon, you drifted into sleep.

But your rest was short-lived.

A wet, rhythmic tap against your forehead pulled you from your slumber. At first, you tried to ignore it, twisting and turning beneath the blankets in irritation, but the sensation didn’t stop. Cold and unsettling, the droplets clung to your skin.

Groaning softly, you reached up to touch your damp forehead, your fingers brushing against the moisture. You slowly opened your eyes, still groggy, but the moment your gaze fell on your hand, your heart dropped.

Blood.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you froze, staring at the crimson smear on your fingers. Trembling, you forced yourself to look up, your eyes widening in horror at the grotesque sight before you. Hanging from the beams above your bed was the severed head of a bear, its lifeless eyes staring straight down at you, its blood dripping onto your pillow.

The scream tore from your throat before you could stop it, a raw, primal sound of fear that echoed off the walls. Within moments, the door burst open, and a handful of soldiers and servants rushed in.

“Your Highness!” a maid cried out, her voice trembling with panic as she rushed to your side. She pulled you from the bed, her arms wrapping around you tightly, trying to shield you from the gruesome sight. You buried your face against her shoulder, your body trembling as she whispered soothing words you barely registered.

The guards moved quickly, drawing their swords as they approached the ghastly display. One of them reached up cautiously, cutting the head down and lowering it carefully to examine it. The room buzzed with frantic energy, the soldiers barking questions at one another.

“There were no guards posted at her door. Why not?” a servant demanded, her voice sharp with fear and anger.

“There were supposed to be two guards stationed here as usual,” another soldier muttered, his expression grim as he examined the scene. “Whoever did this clearly planned it out. This was no coincidence.”

The weight of their words pressed down on you, even as the maid continued to comfort you. Your mind raced, replaying the image of the blood, the bear’s lifeless gaze, and the chilling realization that someone had gone to great lengths to send a message—a message meant for you.

“Come, let’s take you to the washroom so we can clean you up,” Eliza said gently, her arm still wrapped protectively around you as she led you out of your chambers. Her warmth and steadiness were a lifeline in the chaos that had shattered your night.

“Thank you, Eliza,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

“No need for thanks,” she replied softly. “It’s my duty, my dear.”

The hallway was eerily silent, the early morning hours casting long shadows across the walls. The rest of the castle was still asleep, oblivious to the terror you had just endured. The quiet felt heavy, oppressive, and you clung to Eliza’s calm presence as she guided you down the halls.

Once in the washroom, she helped you sit on a cushioned chair near the basin. She dipped a towel into warm water, wringing it out before kneeling in front of you. The gentle press of the damp cloth against your skin made you flinch at first, but her touch was careful, soothing as she began to clean the blood from your trembling hands and face.

“You must be so frightened,” she said softly, her brows furrowed with concern as she wiped away the last remnants of crimson from your fingers. “My poor child.”

Her words, so tender and maternal, caused a lump to form in your throat. You could only nod, unable to find the words to express the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you—fear, confusion, anger.

The sound of hurried footsteps broke the quiet, and you looked up to see your father entering the room, his face pale with worry. He wasn’t dressed in his usual royal attire but rather in his sleepwear, his hair slightly disheveled from being woken so abruptly. Behind him stood Sevika, her broad frame filling the doorway. She, too, was dressed casually in a simple shirt and trousers, her expression unreadable, but her sharp eyes flickered with tension as they briefly met yours.

“Are you alright?” your father asked, his voice laced with worry as he knelt down in front of you. His hands, warm and steady, enveloped your trembling ones, grounding you.

“I-I’m fine… I think,” you stammered, meeting his gaze with uncertainty.

He let out a heavy sigh of relief, though his shoulders remained taut. Without a word, he pulled you into a firm embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively. For a moment, you let yourself lean into him, the familiar scent of his cologne and the steady beat of his heart a temporary balm for your frayed nerves.

“Come,” he said softly, pulling back to look at you. “You can sleep in my chambers tonight. I’ll take the couch.”

You nodded, unable to argue. The idea of returning to your bed—of being alone—was unbearable.

As your father helped you to your feet, you couldn’t help but glance at Sevika again. She remained silent, her arms crossed over her chest, her expression as cold and distant as ever. Her presence, once a source of comfort, now only reminded you of the growing rift between you. Whatever concern she might have felt, she hid it well, her face a mask of indifference as she watched you leave with your father.

You looked away, the ache in your chest deepening as you walked out of the washroom, leaning on your father for support.

Throughout the rest of the night, your father stayed beside you, holding your trembling hand in his much steadier one. His touch was a constant reassurance, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles to calm you. He didn’t even try to sleep, his piercing gaze fixed on the ceiling as he kept his silent vigil over you.

“I won’t sleep,” he had promised softly when you hesitated to close your eyes. “I’ll stay right here until you do.”

The conviction in his voice gave you just enough courage to let yourself relax. The soft rise and fall of his breathing beside you and the warmth of his presence slowly lulled you into a fitful slumber.

When you woke, the first thing you noticed was that the hand holding yours wasn’t his anymore. Instead, a more delicate hand rested in yours, fingers loosely intertwined with your own. Turning your head, you saw Mel curled up next to you, still fast asleep. Her dark curls fell over her face, and her lips were slightly parted as she breathed evenly. She must have come in at some point during the night, taking over your father’s place when he had other matters to attend to.

Your gaze shifted to the curtains, sunlight seeping through the heavy fabric and filling the room with a soft golden glow. The warmth of the morning felt out of place after the horrors of the night before.

As if on cue, the maids quietly entered the room, their soft footsteps startling you from your thoughts. The sound woke Mel as well, her lashes fluttering as she groggily sat up, looking around in confusion before realizing where she was.

The maids moved with precision, their expressions solemn as they began their work. Usually, their chatter would fill the room—bright greetings of "Good morning, Your Highness!" or playful remarks about how radiant you looked—but today was different. The lively banter you were so accustomed to was replaced with an uncharacteristic silence.

They dressed you in measured, methodical movements, their hands careful and efficient as they helped you into your gown. They avoided your gaze, their usually cheerful faces shadowed with worry and sadness. It was as though they were afraid to say the wrong thing or disturb your fragile state.

The absence of their lighthearted words left a hollow ache in your chest. The cheerful normalcy they usually brought had always been a small comfort, a sign that things were predictable and safe. But today, it felt like even they didn’t believe things could go back to the way they were.

The sound of a knock at the door interrupted the moment, and all heads turned as it opened to reveal your father. He was fully dressed now, his expression composed but tired, his usual regal demeanor strained under the weight of the situation. Behind him stood Sevika, her armor back in place, her face as cold and unreadable as ever.

Your father stepped forward, dismissing the maids with a wave of his hand. “How are you feeling this morning?” he asked gently, his tone softer than usual.

“I’m... better,” you replied, though the faint tremor in your voice betrayed you.

He nodded, his sharp eyes scanning you as though to assess whether you were telling the truth. “Good,” he said finally, his voice firm. “We’ll discuss what happened later today. For now, I’ve instructed extra guards to remain at your chamber doors at all times. This will not happen again.”

You nodded, unable to find words to respond. Your gaze drifted to Sevika, who stood silently by the door, her expression cold and detached. She didn’t look at you, her gaze fixed somewhere above your head.

Your father followed your line of sight and seemed to consider something before addressing her. “Sevika, I trust you’ll be personally overseeing the guard rotations from now on.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Sevika replied curtly, her voice low and devoid of emotion.

“Good.” Your father’s tone softened as he turned back to you. “I’ll leave you in Mel’s care for now. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to send for me.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead before straightening and leaving the room.

For a moment, it was just you, Mel, and Sevika in the suffocating silence. The tension in the room was palpable as you avoided looking in her direction.

Mel stood, brushing her hands down her dress. “I think some fresh air might help,” she said, trying to sound cheerful. “Why don’t we take a walk in the gardens later?”

You nodded absently, your gaze still fixed on the ground. Sevika lingered for a moment longer before finally turning to leave without a word. Her heavy footsteps echoed down the hall, and the sound of the door closing behind her left you feeling both relieved and hollow.

The garden was calm and serene, a stark contrast to the chaos of the night before. The sunlight filtered through the trees, casting a golden glow over the vibrant flowers and the butterflies flitting between them. The air smelled of roses and lavender, their sweet scent doing little to ease the unease that still clung to you.

Mel led you through the winding paths, her hand resting lightly on your arm as though she could shield you from whatever dark force had left its mark in your chambers. Despite the beauty around you, your thoughts remained clouded.

When you reached the patio at the garden's center, you sat on the stone bench, staring at the fountain that bubbled softly nearby. Mel sat down beside you, her presence comforting even in silence.

“I don’t understand…” you finally said, your voice quiet but filled with frustration. “Who would leave such a thing in my bedroom? And why didn’t they just go ahead and kill me in the process?”

Mel frowned, her brows knitting together as she looked at you. “Maybe it’s some type of warning,” she offered carefully.

“Yeah, maybe,” you said, sighing as you leaned back against the bench. “But a warning for what? And why me? I haven’t done anything to anyone. At least… not that I know of.”

Mel placed a reassuring hand on your knee. “There’s always a reason, even if it’s not one we can see yet. We’ll figure it out. And whoever did this… they won’t get away with it. Your father will make sure of that.”

You nodded, though her words did little to ease the tightness in your chest. Your gaze drifted to the fountain, watching the water ripple and sparkle in the sunlight. “It’s just… I thought I was safe. In my chambers, in this castle. But now…” You hesitated, swallowing hard as the memory of the blood dripping on your forehead resurfaced.

Mel’s grip on your knee tightened slightly. “You are safe,” she said firmly. “Your father will ensure it. And you have me, too. You’ll never be alone in this.”

Her words brought a small sense of comfort, and you managed a weak smile. “Thank you, Mel. Truly.”

She smiled back, her warmth cutting through the lingering chill of your fear. “Always.”

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, the sound of the fountain and the soft chirping of birds filling the air. Despite the beauty around you, the unease lingered. You couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something far darker.

Later that evening, you prepared yourself for training with your new instructor. After your request, one of the servants promptly informed him, and the two of you agreed to meet at the usual training grounds. Determined not to repeat the awkwardness of last time, you decided to dress yourself. Pulling on a fitted black ensemble, cinched at the waist with buckles and straps, you felt prepared for the rigorous session ahead.

Your instructor was already waiting for you when you arrived, sword in hand. Though he was a man—a fact you found slightly disappointing—there was no denying his skill. He was strict, unrelenting, and brutally honest, pushing you to your limits with biting remarks and challenges designed to stoke your determination. It was exactly what you needed.

An hour into training, his tone shifted, signaling a new level of intensity. “Enough warm-ups. Let’s see if you can hold your own in a fight,” he said, his voice tinged with a smirk. He handed you a sword, warning, “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you.”

The moment he had his weapon in hand, he lunged toward you without hesitation. The suddenness of his attack caught you off guard, but you managed to block his strike just in time. The sharp clang of clashing steel echoed through the training grounds. His movements were quick, calculated, but you matched him blow for blow, your instincts and reflexes sharper than even you anticipated.

Still, he found an opening. With a swift maneuver, he swept your leg from beneath you, sending you sprawling to the ground. Your sword clattered out of reach as he stood over you, the tip of his blade resting just above your neck.

You glared up at him, expecting a triumphant remark or smug insult, but instead, his expression darkened. Something about his gaze unsettled you. “Fuck it,” he muttered, letting his sword fall to the ground.

Before you could react, he dropped to his knees, pinning you down as his hands roamed over your body. His lips crushed against yours in a kiss that made your stomach churn with disgust. You struggled beneath him, shoving him away with all your strength.

“Sir! I’m not interested in you in that way,” you snapped, your voice shaking with anger.

He sneered, his confidence unshaken. “Oh, come on! I’ve seen the way you look at me. You wanted this.”

“No, I don’t!” you shouted, scrambling to your feet.

He followed, his hand lashing out to grip your face tightly. With a sneer, he pushed you against the wall. “You’re so soft… so beautiful. I’m surprised whoever left that little gift in your chambers didn’t take advantage of you. I know I would have.”

His words sent a wave of nausea through you, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. The memory of the night before, combined with his vile insinuations, made your blood boil. Fueled by rage, you bit down hard on his hand, the metallic taste of his blood filling your mouth as he screamed in pain.

“You’re done,” you hissed, spitting on him as you stepped back.

Without another word, you stormed out of the training grounds, your breathing ragged and your heart racing. The guards stationed outside stared at you, their concern evident.

“Arrest him,” you commanded, your voice firm despite the tremor in it. “He tried to hurt me.”

They didn’t hesitate, rushing into the training grounds. The last thing you saw before turning away was the instructor clutching his injured hand, his expression twisted in pain and fear.

Your composure began to crumble as you walked away. Each breath felt harder to take, and tears streamed down your face uncontrollably. You needed to find Mel. She was the only one who could make sense of this, the only one who could comfort you.

You passed a few of your ladies-in-waiting on the way to her chambers. They paused, concern etched on their faces as they noticed your state. “Are you alright?” one of them asked.

“I’m fine,” you choked out, unwilling to stop.

When you reached Mel’s chambers, you didn’t bother to knock, pushing the door open in your desperation. “Mel—”

Your voice faltered as the scene before you registered. Sevika was there, her broad shoulders hunched over Mel, her head buried between her legs. The two froze at the sound of your voice, their expressions shifting from shock to guilt as they turned to face you.

Something inside you cracked. You weren’t sure if it was anger, sadness, or something else entirely, but the sight of them together left you feeling hollow. Without another word, you closed the door and ran, ignoring their calls after you.

The tears came harder now, blurring your vision as you bumped into nobles and ladies in the halls. Each apology was a faint whisper compared to the storm raging inside you. By the time you reached your chambers, you could barely breathe, collapsing onto your bed as the weight of everything crashed down around you.

Your head was buried deep in a pillow, muffling the sound of your broken sobs. Each breath was jagged, each tear relentless. You couldn’t stop crying, and you didn’t even know what it was for anymore. Was it for the betrayal of someone you trusted so deeply? For the horrifying assault you’d just endured? Or was it the ache of seeing Sevika—your Sevika—with someone else, someone who wasn’t you? The feelings tangled inside you, a chaotic mess of grief, rage, and heartbreak that left you paralyzed.

You didn’t notice the soft creak of your chamber door opening. Nor did you hear the footsteps until a hand rested gently on your shoulder. The touch sent a jolt through you, and you flinched violently, rolling onto your back to see who it was.

Mel stood there, her face painted with guilt and regret.

“Get out,” you spat, your voice hoarse from crying.

“Please, let me explain,” she said softly, stepping closer.

“GET OUT!” you shouted, springing to your feet. Your entire body trembled as you faced her, your tears now hot with anger. “I don’t want to see you ever again. You’re horrible. You knew I loved her! And yet you do that?”

Mel flinched as your words hit her, but she didn’t back away. “I won’t leave, (Y/N). We’re friends. I care for you. I’m so sorry.”

“How long?” you demanded, your voice quivering.

“What?” she asked, her tone uncertain.

“Don’t play dumb, Mel,” you hissed. “How long has this been going on?”

She hesitated, guilt flickering across her face before she finally whispered, “A few months.”

A bitter scoff escaped you as you turned your back to her, unable to bear the sight of her any longer. “You’ve known I’ve loved her for years,” you said, your voice breaking. “Why would you do this to me? I thought you cared about me… I thought you loved me.”

Mel moved closer, her hand gripping your shoulder firmly as she spun you around and pulled you into a tight embrace. You stiffened against her, your anger bubbling beneath the surface as her arms enveloped you. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N),” she whispered into your ear.

But then you smelled it—her. Sevika’s distinct scent lingered on Mel like a mark of betrayal, seeping into your senses. The realization sickened you. You hated it. You hated Mel. You hated her. You hated both of them.

Your hands shot up to Mel’s shoulders, shoving her back with enough force to break her grip. “You can still be my lady,” you said, your voice cold and detached, “but I don’t want you sitting beside me at dinner anymore. I can’t bear to look at you… not even with a smile.”

Mel’s face crumpled at your words, but she nodded, accepting your decree. “I understand,” she said, her voice trembling. “Just know, if you ever need me… I’ll always be here.”

You shook your head, glaring at her. “I don’t need you. If anything, you need me,” you said sharply before brushing past her and walking toward the door.

Sevika stood just outside, leaning against the frame as if she had been waiting. Her piercing gaze bore into you, but you refused to meet her eyes, staring straight ahead instead.

You pushed past her without a word, your head held high even though your heart felt like it was splintering apart. Behind you, you could hear them speaking in hushed voices, but you didn’t dare turn back. Not this time. Not ever.

The throne room was bustling with more people than usual. Advisors, guards, and courtiers moved about, their voices echoing off the high ceilings in a chaotic symphony of duty and intrigue. You hesitated at the entrance, your eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on your father, King Silco, seated in his ornate throne. The moment he saw you, he rose to his feet, his gaze sharp and focused as he dismissed those around him with a wave of his hand.

“There you are,” Silco said, his voice cutting through the noise. His long strides carried him toward you. “I had my guards searching for you everywhere when they told me about that instructor and what he did to you.”

His words stirred a storm of emotions within you, but you met his concerned gaze with unwavering resolve. Reaching out, you took his hand, squeezing it tightly in reassurance. “I’m fine… as long as I see him hang,” you said coldly, your voice steady and unflinching.

The words seemed to stun him. Silco’s sharp features softened for a moment, replaced by an expression of disbelief and concern. He studied you, as if searching for the daughter he once knew beneath the hardened exterior you now wore. Gently, he pulled you close, his gloved hand cradling your head in a rare display of paternal affection.

“My child,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, almost tender. His fingers brushed through your hair before he stepped back, his calculating eyes assessing you once more. “I heard there’s a tournament tomorrow. Sevika and another lad from Piltover will be competing. Would you like to attend with me?”

The question lingered in the air, heavy with meaning. Seeing Sevika again—watching her fight, perhaps even get hurt—after everything she’d said, after everything she’d done to you, felt like it would reopen a wound that hadn’t yet begun to heal. And yet…

You nodded, forcing a small smile. “Sure,” you replied. Your voice betrayed no emotion, but deep down, you knew the sight of her would ignite a storm you weren’t sure you were ready to face.

The next day, the castle buzzed with anticipation. Servants dashed through the halls carrying banners and refreshments, the sound of clattering hooves echoed from the courtyards, and the court hummed with excitement for the jousting tournament. In your chambers, your ladies-in-waiting fluttered about, ensuring every detail of your appearance was perfect. They adjusted the folds of your gown, smoothed your hair, and added the final touches to your jewelry.

You sat silently, your hands resting in your lap as they worked. The weight in your chest hadn’t lifted since yesterday, but you masked it well. As one of the ladies pinned a small brooch to your dress, the door swung open, startling everyone in the room.

It was Sevika.

She stepped in with her usual commanding presence, her armor gleaming under the soft glow of the chandelier. Her broad shoulders bore the kingdom’s symbol proudly on her cape, the fabric trailing behind her like a second shadow. Her sharp gaze found yours immediately, and for a brief moment, you couldn’t breathe.

“Leave us,” Sevika said to the ladies, her tone firm but not unkind. They exchanged hesitant glances before bowing and quickly leaving the room.

The door clicked shut, and the two of you were alone. She approached you slowly, her boots heavy against the floor, until she stood directly in front of you, towering over you like a fortress. She tilted her head, her expression unreadable.

“I wish that you’d bless me with good luck before I go,” Sevika said, her deep voice softer than usual.

She was breathtaking, her strong features framed perfectly by the sleek cut of her hair, her confidence radiating like a flame. Once, you would’ve melted under that gaze. Once, you would’ve given her everything you had without hesitation—your love, your trust, your most cherished possessions—all to see her return safely to you.

But not now.

Your expression remained cool, indifferent. You rose from your seat and walked to the edge of the bed, picking up a scarf. It wasn’t special, just a simple piece of fabric that had been carelessly discarded earlier. You held it out to her, your face betraying none of the turmoil inside you.

“Best of luck, Sevika,” you said flatly, your voice devoid of the warmth you used to offer her so freely.

Sevika stared at the scarf in your hand, her jaw tightening slightly as she took it from you. She didn’t say anything at first, but her eyes lingered on you, searching for something—perhaps the affection you once gave so easily, perhaps the part of you she feared she’d lost.

“Thank you,” she finally said, her voice low and almost hesitant. She folded the scarf carefully, tucking it into the folds of her cape.

You stepped back, your arms crossed, and watched as she turned to leave. When she reached the door, she hesitated, her hand resting on the doorknob. For a moment, it seemed like she wanted to say something, but instead, she simply glanced back at you, her expression unreadable.

And then she was gone, leaving you alone with the weight of everything unsaid.

When you arrived at the tournament grounds, you were escorted to your seats alongside your father. Silco, ever the commanding presence, took his place at the center of your party, his expression stoic as usual. A select few nobles and your chosen ladies-in-waiting flanked you, their dresses glittering in the sunlight. You settled into your seat, the soft folds of your gown cascading gracefully over the edge of the chair.

Across the arena sat the delegation from Piltover—King Vander and his children: Princess Powder, Prince Claggor, and Prince Mylo. Their family was one of the few allied with your kingdom, a relationship carefully maintained through diplomacy and trade. It had been years since you last saw them, as your visits to Piltover ended the day your mother passed away. Despite the distance, there was an air of familiarity as you observed them from afar. Powder waved enthusiastically in your direction, and you gave her a polite smile in return.

Yet, amidst the pleasantries, a single absence tugged at your thoughts. Princess Violet. Her name alone stirred something within you—a bittersweet nostalgia. She had been your first kiss, a fleeting but electrifying moment shared in the innocence of youth. It was nothing serious, of course, but even now, the memory lingered, a reminder of a time when life was simpler, untouched by grief or betrayal.

The tournament began with the usual fanfare. Trumpets blared, the crowd roared, and the first competitors charged into the arena. It was an impressive display of skill, but your attention waned quickly. The matches were predictable—Sevika dominated every opponent she faced. Whether by sheer strength or impeccable technique, she unseated them with ease, leaving them either unconscious or sprawled helplessly on the ground.

When Sevika removed her helmet after yet another victory, the crowd erupted in cheers. On your side of the arena, nobles and commoners alike stood to applaud her. Even your father joined in, nodding approvingly. You, however, offered only a polite clap and a practiced smile. There was no joy in it, no pride.

Then Sevika turned her horse toward you.

Her piercing gaze locked onto yours as she rode closer, her expression unreadable. You knew her well enough to recognize the determination in her movements, and you subtly shook your head, silently pleading with her to stop whatever she was planning. She ignored you, halting her horse directly in front of your seat.

Her gloved hand extended toward you. For a moment, you hesitated. The weight of everyone’s eyes on you felt suffocating, but you eventually placed your hand in hers. Sevika raised your hand to her lips, pressing a lingering kiss to your knuckles.

Confusion flickered across your face as you stared at her, unsure of her intentions. She released your hand and offered you a faint, almost wistful smile before turning her horse and galloping away, leaving you reeling.

“Excuse me, Father,” you said abruptly, rising from your seat. You didn’t wait for Silco’s response as you descended the stairs, your heels clicking sharply against the stone.

You followed Sevika’s trail, your chest tight with anger and confusion. When you found her unmounting her horse behind the stables, you didn’t hesitate.

“What was that?” you demanded, your voice sharp as a blade.

Sevika turned to face you, her brow furrowing. “I did what I always do,” she replied, her tone calm but defensive.

“Nonsense,” you snapped. “It’s usually one of my ladies’ hands you kiss—not mine. And clearly, you enjoy kissing more than just hands.”

Sevika rolled her eyes, a gesture that only fueled your anger. “Everything always has to be about you, doesn’t it? I didn’t even know you loved me until a few days ago,” she said, her voice rising slightly. “I’ve been with Mel for months. She’s good company, and I have feelings for her.”

Her words hit you like a blow. “Why?” you asked, your voice trembling. “Why did it have to be one of my ladies? One of my most trusted companions? She’s practically my sister, Sevika.”

“She came onto me when we first met,” Sevika said bluntly.

The admission left you speechless. The betrayal cut deeper than you thought possible, leaving you hollow and numb.

You straightened your posture, forcing yourself to appear composed despite the storm raging inside you. “I’m sending her back to Noxus next week,” you said coldly. “Either go with her or stay loyal to Zaun. It won’t change anything for me. I don’t want to see either of you again.”

Without waiting for her response, you turned and walked away, your steps deliberate and unyielding. Sevika didn’t call after you, and you didn’t look back.

That night, the oppressive silence of your chambers only seemed to magnify your thoughts. The flickering candlelight cast long, restless shadows across the walls, but it did nothing to soothe the ache in your chest. You sat on the edge of your bed, your fingers twisting the soft fabric of your nightgown, your mind replaying the harsh words Sevika had spoken earlier.

The image of Mel, your trusted companion, holding those letters you had so carefully written, tore at you. You had poured your heart into those words, each one a confession of the love you were too afraid to voice aloud. And to think that Mel, someone who knew your heart better than most, had read them, only to use that knowledge to worm her way into Sevika’s affections—it was unbearable.

You pressed your hand against your mouth, as if that could somehow stop the sob that threatened to escape. Tears welled up, blurring your vision until they spilled freely down your cheeks. The betrayal stung more deeply than you could have anticipated. How could Mel have done this to you? How could Sevika have allowed it?

The more you thought about it, the heavier your chest felt, as though the weight of your sorrow was dragging you down. The quiet moments you had shared with Sevika, the stolen glances and fleeting touches, now felt tainted. Were they ever truly real, or had you simply imagined the meaning behind them?

You lay back against the plush pillows, your gaze fixed on the ceiling, though the tears continued to flow unchecked. The pain in your heart was raw, and no matter how hard you tried to push the thoughts away, they kept returning, relentless and cruel.

Eventually, exhaustion began to take hold. Your sobs quieted into soft sniffles, your body trembling with the remnants of your grief. You clutched the blanket tightly against you, as though it could offer some semblance of comfort.

And as your eyes finally drifted shut, the heartbreak followed you into your dreams, leaving you with the bitter taste of betrayal and the lingering ache of unspoken love.

When you woke, the maids were already bustling about your chambers, readying you for the day. Their voices filled the air with idle chatter about the morning’s duties and the preparations for court, but you couldn’t bring yourself to join in. The weight on your chest made words feel impossible, and you sat in silence as they worked around you.

You couldn’t quite name what you were feeling—was it depression, heartbreak, or simply emptiness? It was as if the vibrancy of your emotions had been drained overnight, leaving you a hollow shell. Even as the maids carefully brushed through your hair, their hands light and practiced, you stared blankly at your reflection in the mirror, not recognizing the person looking back at you.

The sound of the door opening pulled you from your thoughts, and you turned slightly to see your father enter the room. Silco’s presence was commanding as always, but today there was a gentleness in his gaze. Without a word, he approached and motioned for the maid to step aside. He took the brush from her hand, his touch replacing hers as he began to brush your hair himself, just as he had done when you were a little girl.

“You’ve been sad lately,” he said softly, his voice low and steady. “What’s wrong, my child?”

You hesitated, your eyes meeting his through the mirror. His expression was one of quiet concern, but you couldn’t bring yourself to open up entirely. “I don’t want to talk about it,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Silco continued brushing your hair, his movements slow and deliberate. “You know,” he said after a moment, “what’s in the dark will always come to light.” His words carried the wisdom of your mother, a phrase she used to say whenever she sensed you were hiding something.

You drew in a deep breath, the familiarity of the saying softening some of your defenses. “There’s someone in court I’ve taken a liking to,” you admitted, your gaze dropping to your hands in your lap. “I have for years now, but… one of my ladies-in-waiting has already taken them. I… saw them together.”

Silco paused for a moment, the brush stilling in his hand. Through the mirror, you saw his single eye darken with concern as he studied you. “We can send her back where she came from if that’s what you want,” he offered, his voice even but firm, like he was ready to act if you so desired.

You shook your head, your voice thick with the emotions you’d tried to suppress. “That’s not going to help. They still love her. I think it’s better for me to just… move on. Cry and move on. Maybe forgive her, because she’s all I have besides you.”

Tears began to well up in your eyes, and you lowered your head to hide them. “I just… I thought I was perfect. A perfect wife for her. I’ve shown her so much subtle affection, and I thought she would love me back.”

The weight of your own words struck you when you repeated that final word: “her.”

Silco’s hand paused, his eye narrowing slightly as realization dawned. “You’re attracted to women?” he asked, his tone curious but not unkind.

Biting your lip, you nodded hesitantly. “I like men too,” you added, your voice trembling. “But I’ve never found the right one. And clearly, I can’t find the right girl either.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then Silco set the brush down and rested a firm but comforting hand on your shoulder. “I love you either way, my rose,” he said, his voice resolute. “Choose what you think is best for you, and never let anyone make you feel less than you are.”

He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your head before straightening and walking out of the room. His words lingered, echoing in the quiet chamber, a small balm for the ache in your heart.

The day passed slowly in the quiet sanctuary of the library. Your teacher’s voice filled the room, guiding you through the intricacies of speaking and writing in foreign languages. Your focus remained on the elegant strokes of your quill, translating phrases with precision, yet your mind wandered, heavy with thoughts you dared not speak aloud.

In the middle of your lesson, the sound of the library door creaking open caught your attention. You looked up to see Mel slipping inside, carefully closing the door behind her. For a moment, you locked eyes with her, the tension between you palpable. You quickly dropped your gaze back to your work, willing yourself to ignore her presence. But she didn’t leave. Instead, she stood there, waiting, her hesitation filling the air.

You sighed, the frustration bubbling beneath the surface breaking through. Closing your book, you turned to your teacher. “Please leave us,” you said curtly. “My servant will pay you for your work as soon as you leave.”

The instructor hesitated, but after a bow, he gathered his things and quietly exited the room. The door closed behind him with a soft click, leaving you alone with Mel.

You turned to her, still seated, your expression hard as you looked up at her. She fidgeted slightly before sitting down beside you, her voice quiet but urgent. “I broke it off with Sevika. You can have her… just please don’t send me back,” she said, her words spilling out like a plea.

You studied her for a moment, your emotions warring within you. Finally, you exhaled and rubbed your face with one hand, exhaustion creeping into your voice. “Even though I have many reasons to send you back, I won’t,” you said. “Stay with Sevika if you wish. I’m not going to stop it. I have no place to. She doesn’t love me… she loves you.”

Your voice cracked slightly, but you pressed on. “And… I forgive you. Turns out I do need you—your advice is… useful. But that doesn’t mean we’re friends again. We can lean into that.”

Mel’s lips quirked into a small, hopeful smile as she leaned in to hug you. You immediately recoiled, pushing her away. “No, thank you,” you said sharply, gathering your books. Without waiting for her response, you rose from your seat and walked briskly toward the door.

As you stepped out, your breath caught when you saw Sevika standing just outside. Her posture was tense, her gaze snapping to you as the door opened. You stopped for a moment, squaring your shoulders before speaking, your tone cold and detached. “I’m not banishing her, so… yeah. I’ll learn to stop loving you. So don’t show me affection anymore. Don’t even glance at me.”

Your grip tightened on your books as you continued, bitterness laced in your voice. “Ask Mel for your tokens before the jousting tournaments. As of today, they have no use to me because I don’t love you anymore. You two seem to have something in common—don’t mess that up. I’ll try to be happy for the both of you.”

The words burned as they left your mouth, but you didn’t let yourself falter. Mel emerged from the library behind you, her eyes flicking between you and Sevika. You turned sharply, shoving the books in your hands into hers.

“Put these away in my chambers,” you commanded. “And don’t mess with anything in there—I still don’t trust you. Either of you.”

Without waiting for a response, you brushed past Sevika, your shoulder barely grazing hers as you walked away. You didn’t look back, the sound of your footsteps echoing through the quiet halls as you disappeared from sight.

The throne room was bustling with activity when you arrived, the soft hum of conversation echoing against the high ceilings. As you stepped inside, your father’s eyes lit up at the sight of you. His warm smile stretched wide as he stood from his throne, arms open in welcome.

“Oh, my beautiful girl,” he said, pulling you into a tight embrace. You melted into his arms, feeling a flicker of the comfort you hadn’t felt in weeks. He held you for a moment longer before pulling back, his hands resting on your shoulders.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he added, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

Curiosity danced across your face as you watched him gesture to the servants standing at the far end of the room. At his signal, they disappeared behind a grand door, only to return moments later carrying a small, white bundle. As they approached, you noticed movement within the bundle, and your breath hitched when you saw the tiny white leopard nestled in their arms.

Your eyes widened, and a gasp escaped your lips as tears immediately pricked at the corners of your eyes. The little creature looked so delicate, its soft fur as white as snow with faint gray rosettes dotting its coat. It blinked up at you with curious blue eyes, its tiny ears twitching as it looked around the room.

The servants stepped closer, carefully placing the cub into your outstretched arms. The moment its soft, warm body settled against yours, it let out a quiet purr and nuzzled against your cheek.

“Oh, it’s gorgeous, Father!” you exclaimed, your voice trembling with emotion. You held the baby leopard close, cradling it as if it were the most precious thing in the world. Tears began to spill from your eyes, one sliding down your cheek as you leaned into the tiny creature’s warmth.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice breaking as the overwhelming joy filled your chest.

Your father reached out, gently brushing the tear away with his thumb. “Anything for my baby girl,” he said softly, his expression full of love and pride.

The court erupted into applause, their hands coming together in celebration. It wasn’t just for the new addition to the court, but for the sight of your happiness—the first true smile they had seen from you in weeks. You looked up, your eyes shimmering with unshed tears as the weight on your heart seemed to lighten just a little.

You glanced back down at the cub in your arms as it let out a small squeak, its tiny nose pressing into your hand. “You’re perfect,” you murmured to it, stroking its soft fur. The baby leopard was more than a gift; it was a symbol of your father’s unyielding love, a reminder that even in your darkest moments, he would always do whatever he could to bring light back into your life.

The rest of the day passed in pure bliss as you devoted every moment to the small leopard cub. He was full of energy, gnawing playfully at the ends of your flowing sleeves and pouncing on your hands when you wiggled your fingers in front of him. The other ladies-in-waiting laughed at his antics as they joined you in the courtyard, where you allowed the cub to run and tumble in the grass. For the first time in weeks, you felt a sense of lightness. You had found something new to live for—a bond, however small, that reminded you there was still joy in life.

As the sky deepened into twilight and the castle lights began to glow, you carried the sleepy cub back to your chambers, a few guards trailing behind to ensure your safe passage. The leopard stirred slightly in your arms, letting out a soft purr as it nuzzled into the crook of your elbow. But the serene mood was shattered the moment you opened the doors to your chambers and saw Mel sitting comfortably at your vanity, her reflection staring back at you in the mirror.

You froze in place, your hand tightening instinctively around the cub. Gently, you set him down, allowing him to wander and explore the room. Your attention, however, remained fixed on Mel.

“Why are you here?” you demanded, your tone sharp with irritation.

Mel turned toward you, her hands folded primly in her lap. “Me and Sevika are just... people who sleep together from time to time,” she began, her tone unusually measured. “We’re not in a relationship. I don’t love her, and I made that clear to her today.”

You let out a harsh laugh, the bitterness in it cutting through the air. “Congratulations! Or should I say condolences?” you replied mockingly, crossing your arms over your chest.

Mel scoffed, standing from the vanity chair and stepping toward you. “Why are you letting this ruin our friendship?” she asked, her voice tinged with frustration.

You felt your anger flare, and your body tensed as you stepped closer. “I’m ruining it? I’m the problem? Let me remind you—you’re the one who repeatedly slept with the woman I love. You knew how I felt about her, and you still went behind my back. Sevika told me you were the one who approached her first!”

Mel’s face twisted with defiance. “And so what? You’ve never even had a real conversation with her, much less a chance. You never stood a chance,” she spat, her words like daggers plunging into your chest.

Her words left you stunned, your hands trembling slightly as the weight of her betrayal sank deeper. But the anger came swiftly after, rising in a fiery wave. “You’re going back,” you said coldly, your voice trembling with rage. “And I’ll be sending a letter to your mother to let her know exactly what kind of whore her daughter has become!”

Mel gasped, her expression darkening as the insult registered. Before she could respond, you lashed out, your hand striking her across the face with enough force to send her stumbling. She cried out, holding her cheek as she looked at you in disbelief.

“You hit me!?” she exclaimed, her voice a mix of outrage and shock.

“How dare you speak to me that way after everything we’ve been through?” she continued, but her voice cracked, betraying the anger she tried to project.

You stepped closer, your face inches from hers as your voice dropped to a cold whisper. “What exactly have you been through? Besides milking my status for the past few years to make yourself into someone important?”

Mel’s jaw clenched as she straightened herself, her eyes narrowing. “I’ve done no such thing,” she shot back. “The king chose me to be part of his court. I’ve worked my way up!”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “Nonsense. I made you what you are,” you said, your voice filled with venom. “You’re nothing but a poor noblewoman who got lucky. Without me, you’d be nothing.”

Mel’s lips parted in disbelief, her expression shifting into something unreadable before she finally replied, “Yes, you made me,” she said, her tone soft but filled with an undercurrent of triumph. “And look what I’ve become—the woman Sevika loves. Funny, isn’t it? Despite all you’ve done, I got her first.”

Her words hit you like a physical blow, but you refused to show any sign of weakness. Instead, you smiled coldly. “And I can break you down, piece by piece, until you’re nothing more than what you were when I found you.”

The room went silent as your words lingered in the air, heavy with the weight of your fury. Mel looked at you, her composure cracking ever so slightly, but she quickly turned on her heel and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

You stood there, chest heaving as the tension in the room began to dissipate. The cub let out a small whimper, brushing against your leg as if sensing your distress. Scooping him up, you held him close, his soft purrs offering a small semblance of comfort as you vowed to never let Mel or anyone else hurt you like this again.

The soft glow of candlelight bathed your chambers in warmth as you sat at your vanity, brushing your hair and braiding it back for the night. The gentle rhythm of your movements was soothing, and the faint sound of your cub's breathing as it slept peacefully on his bed filled the room with a sense of calm. That peace was short-lived, though, as the doors to your chambers suddenly burst open with a loud bang.

You turned quickly, startled, to find Sevika standing in the doorway, her broad shoulders tense, her face etched with anger.

“You hit her?” she demanded, her voice sharp.

You rose from your seat, your heart pounding. “She disrespected me,” you replied coolly, meeting her gaze.

Sevika stepped further into the room, closing the door behind her with a forceful shove. “Violence isn’t always the answer, princess. You slapped her hard enough to leave a mark.”

“And?” you said, crossing your arms. “She had the audacity to invite herself into my chambers, in my palace, and speak to me as if we were equals. She should be thankful I didn’t have her dragged out by the guards. A mark is nothing compared to what she deserved.”

Sevika’s jaw clenched, her fists tightening at her sides. “You’re so selfish,” she said, her voice low but dripping with frustration.

“Me? I’m selfish?” you shot back, stepping closer to her. “I have done nothing but care about you—about how you would feel. Mel told me you loved her. You said it to her! So tell me, Sevika, why am I the bad person here?”

Her eyes flashed with a mix of anger and pain. “Because you have power, princess. You can do whatever you want, and the rest of us have to live with the consequences. I… I basically belong to you. We all do.”

You stared at her, your heart aching at the weight of her words. “I never asked for that,” you said softly, your tone trembling. “And I’ve never once taken advantage of it.”

Her expression wavered, the tension in her shoulders loosening just slightly.

“I confessed to you,” you continued, your voice rising with desperation. “I told you I loved you, and you pushed me away. Mel doesn’t love you the way I do—she doesn’t even love you at all. She said so herself! So why are you holding back?”

“Stop,” Sevika said, her tone firm but lacking the force it had before.

You stepped closer, your voice dropping to a whisper. “Why not me, Sevika? Why not touch me? I would give you everything—my heart, my love, my body. I would love you back with everything I have.”

You reached for her, and this time, she didn’t stop you. Your hands brushed against her chest, and you felt her muscles tense beneath your touch. Her eyes softened, and for a moment, the anger in them was replaced by something else—something raw and unspoken.

Her resolve broke. With a growl of frustration, she closed the distance between you, her lips crashing against yours in a kiss that was as much an argument as it was an admission. You gasped into her mouth, your hands tangling in her hair as she pulled you closer, her strong arms wrapping around your waist.

Sevika’s hands gripped your waist firmly, and in one swift motion, she lifted you off the ground. A surprised gasp escaped your lips as she carried you to the bed, her strength overwhelming, her touch firm yet careful.

She laid you down gently, her broad frame towering over you as her dark eyes searched yours, the anger now replaced by something far more intense.

“Sevika,” you whispered, reaching up to cup her face.

She leaned down, her lips capturing yours in a desperate, heated kiss. You moaned softly against her mouth, your fingers tangling in her hair as she pressed her body against yours. Her lips trailed down to your jaw, then to your neck, where she bit gently before soothing the skin with her tongue, leaving you breathless.

Her hands roamed over your sides, her fingers curling into the fabric of your nightgown as she pressed her hips against yours. You arched into her, grinding against her leg that she put in between your legs, in a desperate attempt to feel more of her, your breaths coming out in ragged gasps.

“I love you,” you murmured, your voice trembling as you pulled her into another kiss. “I’ll always love you.”

She kissed you harder this time, her lips moving against yours with a hunger that left you dizzy. But just as the moment threatened to spiral out of control, Sevika suddenly stopped.

She pulled away, her breathing heavy, her face filled with regret as she looked down at you.

“Sevika?” you whispered, reaching out for her, confusion and desperation flooding your voice.

“I can’t,” she said, her voice breaking as she pushed herself off the bed.

And then, without another word, she turned and left, the sound of the door closing behind her leaving you alone in the room, your heart breaking as the weight of her absence pressed down on you.

Your fingers lightly traced your lips, still tingling from the heat of her kiss. They moved to your neck, brushing over the tender skin where her mouth had lingered, leaving behind a trail of longing that burned deep into your soul. You shivered, a mix of disbelief and exhilaration coursing through you as you struggled to catch your breath.

Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, the memory of her weight against you, her touch, and her lips overwhelming your senses. The braid you had so carefully crafted earlier was completely unraveled now, your hair falling loosely over your shoulders in soft waves. It mirrored the disarray you felt inside—messy, untamed, yet exhilarating.

“She kissed me…” you whispered to the empty room, your voice trembling. “She wanted me… She was touching me.” The words felt surreal as they left your lips, almost as if saying them out loud would solidify the truth of what had just happened.

You pressed your hand against your chest, trying to steady the rapid rise and fall of your breath, but it was no use. The heat of her presence still clung to you, and you could feel her phantom touch lingering on your skin.

“Oh my gods…” you murmured to yourself, a mixture of disbelief and awe thick in your voice. You glanced over to the corner of the room, where your cub lay curled up in its soft bedding, sleeping peacefully as if nothing extraordinary had happened.

For a moment, you envied its calm, the way it could rest so easily while your mind raced. But then your lips curled into a small, private smile as you gazed at it, your heart still pounding.

“She kissed me,” you whispered again, the words becoming a quiet confession to yourself, your cub, and the night. You sank back onto the edge of your bed, your fingers trailing through your hair as your thoughts swirled, trying to make sense of everything. But no matter how much you tried, the memory of Sevika’s touch consumed you, igniting a fire within you that you couldn’t ignore.

— ran out of divider space 🤭

taglist (my shaylas ♡) : @tinycherry0 @thesecondhandwoman @abbysleftbicepp @artfairyyyyy @bunninel @furrytaesss @savedforlaterr @veladeangl @5t4r1i9ht @imheadintothemountains @adora-moonshine @sevikasrightboob @80saturn @littlerainsprite @runawaybaby3 @rhian88 @athena-winters13

[unknownati]

xiii. tap tap tap

a/n: im. Cooking. I swear

idk whether to finish my reqs first or my wips 😭 but lowkey i've been busy asf sorry 😞 i am slooowly chipping away at them

warnings/tags: no use of y/n, no desc of reader's physical features, gn!reader, sub!ekko, crop top, living my truth, orgasm denial, handjob, short bleghhh, unproofread THIS ENDING 😒

_______________________________________________

a small groan rumbles in ekko's chest as he leans over his workbench, papers scattered across the wood surface in a chaotic organization.

"ugh," ekko's head shook, nose scrunching in frustration. nothing was adding up—none of the math circled back to the main problem.

his z-drive got messed up in a fight, and the whole thing was completely off now. not being able to figure this stupid thing out had his forehead heating up, his fingers flicking his pencil between his fingers, a constant rapping against the table reminiscent to a clock ticking.

a whole room over, the sound made your ears twitch at the familiarity, your mind's attention shifting from the book you were reading to that consistent noise.

you've asked ekko many times to try to not make that noise—it's a distraction, gritting to your ears. each word you read gets replaced with a 'tap tap.'

you know the context behind that noise too—so why not help him fix it?

you peek into ekko's room, the tapping filling your ears more clearly. your presence is thick, even with your lack of noise, ekko realizes you're there. he gives you a small grunt of acknowledgment, no time to think about anything more.

your chin rests on his shoulder, palms running up and down his forearms. your eyes pass over the work he has, not a clue in the world what any of this means. what your eyes dart to instead was that pencil. still tapping. you hum. "what's wrong, baby?"

his nose scrunches and he sighs, shaking his head. "i just can't figure this out."

you let the sentence linger in the air, squeezing his shoulders, fingers slipping to kneed his biceps. "hmm...well, what are you tryna do?"

his lips form a line and then he opens his mouth, explaining the entire plan out to you with reasoning, showing you pictures, showing you evidence, everything. you weren't listening to a word.

"but the thing is, i tried both, and doing the first one leads me down a complete different road. and i'm wondering if it's because—"

"mhm," you hum as he continues speaking, your eyes trailing up his gesticulating arms, then down. his shirt was cropped, his midriff peeking out from the angle you were at. casually, both of your hands begin snaking down. they both stop at his waist. he doesn't notice—it's a regular occurrence. you're always touching the visible skin when he's wearing a crop top.

you couldn't lie, the sight was tantalizing. every time he reached up for something, the shirt would raise and give you a larger view of his abs. something about the crop top was so much better than seeing him shirtless.

it wasn't until your hand started creeping up his shirt that he fumbled over his words. "what are you doing?"

"nothing, sorry. keep talking."

he cleared his throat, stuttering for a moment but then getting back on track to his sentences. he asks something, some question related to the papers in front of him.

"hmm, well i dunno baby. talk me through it, what do you think?" you throw the ball right back into his court. good thing ekko likes talking, because he immediately had an answer for you, his mouth running once again.

you give half-hearted noises of acknowledgment between pauses in speech, meanwhile, the hand that wasn't up his shirt was slooowly making it's way down his pants. once you breached the band of his boxers, he stuttered again.

"what are you doing?" he re-asks, more emphasis on his words. you shake your head.

"focus on what you have to figure out, not on me."

he doesn't respond, zoning out as your fist closes around his dick. it's slowly growing in your hand, twitching at your touch. the hand up his shirt taps. "focus." you repeat.

"um," he groans, picking up the next sheet of paper. "i just think that—"

his sentence was cut short by a gasp, since you gave him no time to prepare himself, immediately starting to stroke him. he thinks he knows what game you're playing.

"think that...maybe i should try thinking about it the other...way around...i–f-fuck..." his sentence trails off, shaky breaths filling the air and ghosting around him. the tapping grows weak until it finally stops, wood clattering and rolling against the desk.

"you...?" you pick the sentence off where it ended, your wrist flicking rapidly. his knees feel weak— he leans his weight onto his palms, which rest against the edge of the table.

"god, i–i don't know. i can't focus with you doing that..."

you allow him a few more moments of bliss, and you can tell he's close. you're leading him right into your trap, moving faster,

"ah,"

faster,

"baby, please, i'm-"

faster,

"oh fuck,"

...then it's all gone. the tight coil in his tummy simply...crumbled rather than unraveling. he almost collapses, arms wobbling to hold himself up on the desk.

"that's how i feel when you tap that pencil."

before he can even process his confusion, you're out the room, door shutting behind you.

maybe an unconventional approach—but you never heard that tapping again.

[anamelessfool]

I'm going to do everything in my power to support my community and the principles I care about and I'm gonna try to do the best I can every day with what I have

I don't know what I'm doing but I'm gonna try I'm gonna believe in a better world

[aroacedragongirl]

Not much behind this one. I'm an aroace girl who likes dragons / has a dragon fursona. On this account i wanted to be a bit more open in my gender identity. However, the origin of the name i use on most other platforms, CoolDeadFun, is a bit more interesting. It started all the way back in elementary school (I'm in college now) when I was playing a shitty mobile game with my friend and i needed a user name so we kept trying to come up with one that wasnt taken for like 20 minutes until finally DeadFun worked. However, flash forwards a few years, i tried to reuse it on a different game and it was taken. However CoolDeadFun was not. Therefore i went with that and it has stuck ever since

im too tired to tag people right now ill do it tomorrow if i dont forget which in all honesty i probably will

Tag game🎉

Tag your moots and ask them where they got the idea for their tumblr accounts name!

For my name it was a nickname I was giving back in middleschool! One of our teacher had a system where we worked with 'wifi' eachtime we talked in class we lost a bar of the "wifi" (was a weird joke and we never held count on that) All the kids usually joked if they needed 'wifi' , they would borrow mine if they wanted to talk more. (I was incredibly shy in middle school, I only talked to like 3 people at school;^;)

They called me Ms. Wifi because of that. I just thought it would be funny if I put 'miss' instead of 'ms' because of my terrible actual wifi connection I have at home lol.

That's my story! Now moots, only if you guys want to, tell us your story.

Tags-> @slipping-lately @firequeenofficial @noagskryf @twinklstarrrr @halfbakedspuds @polterwasteist @rokushi-san @mygedagtes +anyone that sees this and wants to do this as well

[urlocalmultigroupfan]

double take

pairing: stranger!jisung (??) x fem!reader

summary: based off of double take by dhruv <3

tags/warnings: jisung is probably headover heels, kind of rushed, type of thing to make your heart race turning red as i write this, not that proofread (as always)

a/n: guys im actually obsessed with how this turned out omg....erm anyways.... love yall <3

alternate version....

masterlist....

"boy, you got me hooked onto something, who could say that they saw us coming? tell me, do you feel the love?...."

The first time Han Jisung saw you, the world tilted slightly. You were sitting on a park bench, headphones over your ears, a soft smile tugging at your lips as you scribbled something into a notebook. The golden rays of the setting sun painted you in hues of warmth, and Jisung’s breath hitched. He’d only meant to take a quick walk to clear his head after a long day at the studio, but now he was rooted to the spot.

He took a double take, blinking as if to confirm that you weren’t some mirage conjured by his overworked mind. You were real. And you were beautiful.

The second time he saw you, it was raining. Hard. Sheets of water pelted the streets, and Jisung cursed himself for forgetting an umbrella. As he hurried toward the nearest coffee shop, drenched and shivering, he nearly collided with you as you stepped out.

“Oh, sorry!” you exclaimed, your voice soft but clear even against the drumming rain. Your eyes met his, and something inside him shifted.

“It’s okay,” he stammered, suddenly feeling every drop of water clinging to his skin. You held out a spare umbrella without hesitation.

“Here. You’ll catch a cold otherwise.”

He wanted to protest, but the sincerity in your gaze stopped him. “Thanks,” he said quietly, his fingers brushing yours as he took the umbrella.

Weeks passed, and Jisung found himself frequenting that same park and coffee shop, hoping for another chance encounter. It was unlike him to act this way—he wasn’t usually one for romantic daydreams. But there was something about you that drew him in, something he couldn’t quite put into words.

When he finally saw you again, it was at the park. This time, you weren’t alone. A small dog trotted beside you, its leash wrapped loosely around your wrist. Jisung’s heart raced as he debated whether to approach you. Before he could decide, your dog yanked the leash from your grasp and sprinted straight toward him.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” you called, hurrying after the dog.

Jisung crouched down, catching the leash with ease. “Gotcha,” he said, chuckling as the dog licked his hand enthusiastically.

You stopped in front of him, slightly out of breath. “Thank you. She’s… a little too excited sometimes.”

“No problem. She’s cute,” he replied, glancing up at you. “Just like her owner.”

Your cheeks flushed, and Jisung’s own face burned as he realized what he’d just said. “I mean…”

You laughed, light and genuine. “Thank you. I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Jisung,” he said, holding out a hand. When you took it, his chest tightened, and he couldn’t help but smile.

As days turned into weeks, you and Jisung grew closer. Coffee dates turned into late-night walks, shared laughter, and quiet moments of understanding. He learned about your love for music, how you’d spend hours lost in your own little world with a pair of headphones and a notebook. In turn, he shared his own dreams and insecurities, baring parts of himself he rarely showed anyone.

But there was always a part of him that hesitated, a small voice in the back of his mind that wondered if he was reading too much into your smiles and lingering touches. Were you just being kind? Or did you feel the same pull he did every time your eyes met?

One evening, as the two of you sat on that same park bench where he’d first seen you, Jisung worked up the courage to ask. The sky was painted in shades of pink and orange, the air filled with the soft hum of cicadas.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can I ask you something?”

You turned to him, your expression open and curious. “Of course.”

He took a deep breath. “Do you… ever think about us? About what we could be?”

Your eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, his heart plummeted. But then you smiled, reaching out to take his hand.

“All the time,” you admitted. “I just wasn’t sure if you felt the same.”

Relief and joy flooded through him, and he couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ve been thinking about you since the day I saw you,” he confessed. “You… you make everything brighter.”

You squeezed his hand, your own smile mirroring his. “Then I guess we’re on the same page.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world in twilight, Jisung leaned in, his heart pounding. And when your lips met, it was as if the universe itself held its breath, the moment stretching into eternity.

In that kiss, every unspoken word, every lingering glance, and every hesitant hope found its answer. And for the first time in a long time, Jisung felt complete.

hope yall enjoyed <3

todays writing playlist....

peaches by justin beiber and double take by dhruv (on repeat lmao)

*bold is explicit*

my playlist

taglist is open! please comment if you would like to be added <3

[spookyteeth]

im about to go on a plane if i don't say anything within the next 5 hours it's because it crashed and i died

[luzwastaken]

ahhhhh i ment to do this but i got buried and i forgot it existed LMAO

⭐️yellow and green :33

⭐️about a year, my account is a bit older though because i used it to look at Pearlina art LOLL

⭐️japan because pokemon and AUSTRALIA !!! 🇦🇺🦘🦘🐨🐨💥💥 (i need to watch a footy game live and go to a zoo and just it's so underrated and there's so much natural beauty UGHHH)

⭐️for shoes i really like Doc Martens or Vans, my favorite hoodie is a green pokemon Santa Cruz hoodie, i like skate brands even though my dad doesn't let me skate lol, most of my pants are thrifted though (BECAUSE YOU CAN FIND MENS JEANS IN THE WOMENS SECTION AT GOOD WILL GO GO GO)

⭐️IM OBSESSED WITH SURF CURSE, GORILLAZ, AND RECENTLY SPACEY JANE THEIR MUSIC IS SOO GOOD GO LISTEN TO THEM

⭐️i love my lock screen a lot :3 i have some others but this is the one i use all the time

⭐️Australian Football, made a pin of the AFL logo for my backpack :3 it's a really fast pace and athletic sport and i recommend watching game highlights or CARDMAN 22 game vlogs, it can be really exciting lol

⭐️taken by Nemona >:33

⭐️in this reality, owning my own pokemon centered card shop, or being a vendor at card shows ! in my DR, being a pokemon professor !!

⭐️Pinterest

⭐️one siamese cat named Kitty, my other is in heaven now though :(

⭐️both !! and Matcha !!! (i like coffee with cream/milk but without sugar lol)

⭐️mango, coffee, and matcha ice cream lol

IDK WHO TO TAG AGHH

random questions<3

ೃ⁀➷ hiii hi here’s just a random question form ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

: ̗̀➛ what’s ur fav color

: ̗̀➛ how long have u been on tumblr for

: ̗̀➛ wheres a place u always wanted to travel to

: ̗̀➛ what’s ur fav clothing brand(s)

: ̗̀➛ what’s ur fav singer/band(s)

: ̗̀➛ what’s ur current phone lockscreen

: ̗̀➛ most recent/current hyperfixation

: ̗̀➛ what’s ur relationship status

: ̗̀➛ what’s ur dream job

: ̗̀➛ outside of tumblr, fav social app

: ̗̀➛ do u have pets

: ̗̀➛ if u do have pets, what kind/how many

: ̗̀➛ do u prefer tea or coffee

: ̗̀➛ whats ur fav ice cream flavor

: ̗̀➛ tag at least three other tumblr accounts

my tags: @nyoclosmom @stuckysimp @cherikdogfood @xxqueenofdragonsxx @carpentrz

anyone else ofc feel free to fill out :) ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

[winx-moths-mod-rewrite]

Greetings fellow Winx Club Rewriters

I see youre upset about Rainbow using AI and being soulless in their reboot. From designs being bland to animation being 3D among other factors, we all agree this reboot will not be satisfactory.

So i propose something. All of us are artists. All of us have talent, and almost all of us have our own way of telling this story. What if we all got together and made the ultimate fan made official unofficial winx club animated reboot?

I know it sounds a bit scary since we all have so many diverse ideas, but trust me, I know we can do this. This fanbase has so much love and passion for all of these characters and this incredible magic dimension. For a lot of us, it was our childhood. Now i want to take soulless corporate greed and crush it under the fist of a fanmade reboot.

Sorry for getting so passionate im just really excited lol, ive had this idea for a while now. If youre interested in helping out in any way possible, please please please fill out the form below and if you can, tag a friend you think would be interested! This would mean so much to a lot of us, i know it would. Thank you for reading this far

Oh! And if you post things related to this, id prefer if you used the tag "winx club official unofficial rewrite". Thanks!!

[tonysbed]

Secrets I keep | Part 2

Max Fewtrell x Norris!reader

Lando Norris x Sister!reader

Daniel Riccardo x Norris!reader

summary: You and max have been dancing around your feelings for years but jealousy gets the best of us all..

not proofread

series masterlist | masterlist | previous | next

-

“I hate people” You say as you sit down at the small table in Daniel’s kitchen. He sets breakfast on the table and raises an eyebrow “I know, but why now?”

You turn your phone to him and show him the post that kika had send you earlier in the morning “Is it that unbelievable that two super attractive people are friends?” You chuckle at his words which makes him smile.

It slowly fades “Has lando said anything to you about it?” You shake your head but lean a bit back “Actually.. He did ask me yesterday what we are” Daniel raised an eyebrow “Really? And how did that go down?”

“Told him we’re friends. Then I asked why. He said he was just wondering and then told me to forget he asked” You shrug and take a bite of your breakfast.

“Hm. A tad weird no?” He says, sipping his coffee. You shrug “He can believe whatever he wants. And he’ll know where to find me if he has questions” Daniel nods and focuses back on his food.

“So, what is the plan for today?” You ask curious “Well, I’d say finally going to let you hold a koala and I got an invite to a party. You know these people too” He says with a smile. You smile wide “Koalas? Finally!” He chuckled “That’s the only thing you heard, hmm?”

“Absolutely. But yeah we can go. What kind of party?” He shrugged “just a party. nothing fancy” “no fancy clothes?” He shakes his head “Thank god. I didn’t pack fancy”

“As if we couldn’t just go and buy something” You roll your eyes at him “Finish up. I wanna see koalas” “Relax, they won’t run away” “You never know”

-

danielriccardo

liked by yn, landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 1m others

danielriccardo she finally got to hold a koala! and meet someone who looks happier than her 🐨👀

*tagged yn*

yn happier than me? more than you. You’ll get wrinkles from smiling this much

danielriccardo Im only smiling because you’re here

yn charmer much?

danielriccardo always for my favourite girl

yn dont make me blush, riccardo

danielriccardo 😁

user @/landonorris ???

user tagging lando as if he’s stupid

user he can read yk

landonorris are you ever coming home, or what? 😂

yn never. this place is to beautiful

landonorris daniel, i’d like my sister back

danielriccardo can’t do anything, sorry mate

user now why is he so close to her.. 👀

user sure, friends

user woman and men can be friends yall

*liked by yn*

-

yn added to their story

[caption 1: night out 💙 caption 2: I expected more patience from him.. he stood there for 20 minutes..]

franciscagomez girl, you’re telling me you two aren’t a thing??

yn yeah?

sure…

yn why is everyone so weird all of sudden. I’ve visited daniel alone before

that was different..

yn sure.

landonorris be safe please!!

yn will be. i’m with daniel, remember?

yeah that doesn’t calm me down..

yn ttyl 🫶🏻

yeah yeah 🤍

-

Drinks had been flowing for a good amount of time. It was safe to say that neither you nor Daniel were on the sober side. You stood next to him, while he was sitting on a chair, explaining something to the guy next to him.

One of your friends, who was rather clumsy, pushed you over and right into Daniel’s lap. You let out an surprised squeal and hold onto his shoulders for support. In an instinctive way, his arms wrap around you and leans against you in his drunken state.

You smile at the filming person who is laughing along you, while the friend who fell tried to get back up, which was even harder while laughing.

You helped her and watched them go to the bathroom. You now finally look at daniel, who’s lap you were still seated on. He raised an eyebrow and smirked.

“If you wanted to sit, you could’ve just said something.” You laugh and turn to face the rest of the group “You’re an idiot”

“I’ve been told before” He laughed and you felt his thumb caressing your side. You sigh and let your head fall on his shoulder “Should we go home?” You hum “My feet hurt” “Told you to go in sneaker” “Shut up” He chuckled “I’ll call a cab”

-

You stumbled into the door and steadied yourself on daniel’s arm. You kicked off your shoes “I’m so dead” “Me too. Sleep?” “100%. I’m eating tomorrow.”

He nods and kicks off his shoes as well. You flop down on the couch “that’s not your bed” “I’m to lazy to walk there” He laughed and stumbled over to you. Before he could say anything, you moved and held up the blanket, inviting him.

“Not the plan but sure” He laid down next to you, looking at you. You make him turn and lay on his chest “Definitely comfortable” You mumble before your knocked out cold.

He laughs softly before closing his eyes as well.

-

Lando had been kind of worried about you. He knew how daniel could get when he was drunk. He had stopped the aussie from doing stupid things before while partying. He let his head fall backwards with a groan.

Max looked up from his phone and sighed “Just text her” “So I’ll get the same answer as before? No thanks”

Max rolls his eyes “I’ll be on stream if you’ll need me.” He got up and walked into his streaming room. Lando stayed on the couch. It was already late in australia, he knew that. You should’ve been back already.

His phone lights up and he sees his mothers name.

‘Did you know about this?’ Attached was a picture of you, sitting on daniel’s lap.

He opened the message

Lando sets his phone down. The picture engraved in his mind. This was out of character for you. Or was it? Did he even know who you were? Were you as close as he thought?

His thoughts were interrupted by Max poking his head in the door “Should we order some food? I’m starving” Lando nods “Sure”

“What’s up with you?” Lando shakes his head “Still about Yn and daniel?” “There is a picture from tonight..” Max raised an eyebrow as lando picks up his phone and shows it to max.

Max’s fists clench at his sides and he has to restrain himself from a sarcastic comment “Oh”

“Why would she lie? I mean, she could’ve told me! I’d rather know from her than the internet” “I’m sure she’ll explain.” “I hope.” “Let’s order food and get your mind off a bit.”

-

You had woken up with a raging headache. You tried to sit up, which didn’t work. You look up and see Daniel’s sleeping face. You feel his arms still wrapped around you and pause. Why in gods name are you in this position?

You gently lift his arms and slip out of his arms. You get into the guest bedroom and put your phone down to charge. While your phone was charging, you got some ibuprofen, water and set some down on the couch table in front of sleeping Daniel.

Your phone finally turns on. You’re horrified when you see missed calls from your mom, and texts from various people. You check your moms messages first and freeze again. When did that happen? You on Daniel’s- The fall.

Oh great.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and try calling your brother. It was around midnight in the uk so you weren’t sure he was going to pick up.

“Yn?” “Lando! Oh thank god. Thought you might be sleeping” “no, i’m not. I can’t sleep actually” You hesitate “The picture-“ “I don’t wanna hear it. Why would you lie to me?” “Lando-“

“no. you go and say you’re friends and that’s what I see? Who are you trying to fool here?” “We are just friends!” “sure as hell doesn’t look like it”

“Lando. We were drunk. I was pushed and landed there” “Sure. Well, good to know you’re okay. I’m going to bed.” “Lando please” The line goes dead and you sigh. Great.

You go and call your mother, who was a bit more understanding but still didn’t quite believe the story you told her.

A knock on the door startled you “yeah?” Daniel slowly opened the door “You okay?” You nod “Headache is getting better. Did you take your ibuprofen?” He nods “So..there’s-“ “A picture yeah. Mom and lando already ripped me one.” He sighed and sat down next to you on the bed.

“It is so out of context! This is really annoying.” He nods again and looks at his hands. You stand up “I’m gonna go and eat something. You coming?” “Yeah”

This time, the kitchen was silent. Neither of you knew what to say after last night.

-

“So when is he supposed to be here?” You ask Daniel as you put on your hiking shoes “Any minute. Oscars quite on point when he’s supposed to be there.” In that moment the doorbell rang.

Oscar stood there, smiling softly “Good morning you two! How have you slept?” You roll your eyes “Fine. We really shouldn’t have had that many drinks tho” Oscar chuckled “Yeah I saw. What did Lando say?”

You three make your way downstairs “He wasn’t mad about the sitting in his lap thing at all. He thought I was lying tho when I told him we’re just friends, which isn’t a lie. We’re really not together. Nothing.” You say defeated.

“I’m sure he’ll calm down and you’ll get to talk to him.” You nod “I hope. I really didn’t lie to him” Oscar pats you on the back “It’ll be alright. He’s bark no bite”

Daniel laughs “That’s what i said too! He couldn’t be mad at you forever even if he tried. He loves you way to much” Oscar nods in agreement “He’s always talking about you. Sometimes I feel like I know you better than Lando” You chuckle at that.

“Ill text him once we get back”

-

yn

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, danielriccardo and 926.467 others

yn when in australia ☀️

*tagged oscarpiastri / danielriccardo*

oscarpiastri my hair oh god

yn I loved it 😂

danielriccardo yeah, i’m sure lily loved it too 😂

oscarpiastri I hate you both

yn 🧡

danielriccardo never going on a hike with you ever again

yn why? I made it to the end

oscarpiastri after laying on the floor and refusing to get up because you know who is ignoring your messages

yn now that is mean

danielriccardo no, just the truth

user Is lando ignoring yn??

user I would too if my sister would have something going on with my friend

user we don’t even know if they do

user have you not seen the pictures??

user and? you need to chill out. not every woman who has a guy as friend wants to date him

*liked by yn*

user see? she even liked the comment.

user the difference between daniel and oscar 😭

user daniel is so boyfriend coded

-

Daniel closed the trunk and made his way to the driver seat. You stare out of the window. Neither of you have actively acknowledged what had happened the night before. The hike with oscar took your mind off it all a bit but you were sure. You had to get to lando before it all gets to his head.

The ride to the airport was quiet. Only as you finally made it and Daniel got your stuff out of the trunk, he finally looked at you.

“Here” “Thank you” “I’ll bring you to your gate” You nod and you both walk in silence. It wasn’t as comfortable as it had been a few days ago.

As you arrived at your gate, you hug him. You stay like that for a few moments before you pulled away.

“yn?” “Daniel” He looks at you a bit nervous “We’re good, right?” You smile softly “Yeah, we’re good. I’ll text you when I land.” He nods “Have a good flight” You wave at him as you leave.

caption: Home sweet home 🇲🇨❤️

franciscagomez weren’t you supposed to be back in like 5 days?

yn lando is ignoring me because of the picture. There’s more to that.

oh..hope you guys figure it out. Gossip sesh w alex soon?

yn 100%

-

Max got a bit mean, oops. Let’s see what she’ll do and what Lando does next 👀

I’ll try posting every 1-2 days. I don’t do tag lists btw

[frutigerfischl]

Oh my goood, your headcanons for CaitVi x Wanted Criminal! Reader were sooo accurate and awesome, can you, PLEASE, write a one-shot with this idea?

⌗ TITLE┆BLOOD WILL RUN┆song: my own piece of hell ★ ₊ ˚⟡

⌗ TAGS┆gn!reader, poly relationship, caitvi/reader, wantedcriminal!reader ★ ₊ ˚⟡

⌗ NOTE┆im glad you thought the hcs were accurate!! My friend helped me with them so I can't take all the credit :3, short oneshot because writers block is getting to me ★ ₊ ˚⟡

There’s blood under your nails again.

Not your blood, at least not this time. Someone else’s. A little too much of it, if the stiff, drying patches on your gloves are anything to go by. You peel them off, shoving them deep into the bag slung over your shoulder, before the dripping from your wrist can leave a trail on Caitlyn’s spotless floorboards. She’d have a fit if she saw the mess you were dragging into her home again—no, not home, safehouse. That’s what she called it when she shoved the key into your hand a few months ago. “For emergencies,” she’d said.

Caitlyn had known better than to ask how long you’d been running by then. Long enough that you stopped counting.

You’re halfway through shrugging out of your coat when the front door clicks open.

The instinct to bolt hits you hard, years of surviving on quick reflexes tightening your muscles. But the sharp edge of the voice that follows pulls you back from the brink.

“Relax. Just us.”

Vi.

You don’t turn. You don’t need to. You’d know that voice anywhere—the gruff rasp of it, like she’s always a little winded, as if her fights haven’t quite let her go yet. It’s comforting, in a way.

You glance over your shoulder anyway, long enough to catch her stepping through the doorway, Caitlyn right on her heels.

They’re still wearing their uniforms. The sight of Caitlyn in hers—crisp, formal, perfect—makes you flinch, even now. The cuffs hooked at her belt glint under the low light of the chandelier, a sharp reminder of how close this whole thing comes to falling apart every single time you see them.

They are falling apart, you think. All three of you.

Caitlyn shuts the door behind them, her eyes already scanning the room. “You’re hurt,” she says, her voice dipping into that soft, precise tone she saves for when she’s trying not to sound concerned. It doesn’t work.

“Not my blood,” you mutter.

That earns you a sharp look from Vi. “You shouldn’t even be here. You know what they’re saying about you up in Piltover, right? Enforcers are pulling double shifts trying to track you down.”

“As if I didn’t notice,” you shoot back, your mouth twitching with something too bitter to be called a smile. “You think I want to be here? I don’t exactly have a lot of options right now.”

It’s a weak excuse, and all three of you know it.

You hadn’t had to come here at all. You could’ve run further. Stayed in Zaun, burrowed into some forgotten hole until things cooled off. But you didn’t. You came here—their apartment, in Piltover of all places—and Vi’s scowl makes it obvious what she thinks of that decision.

But Caitlyn, true to form, softens before Vi does. She crosses the room, her long legs eating up the distance between you in a few steps. Her hand brushes your arm, light as a whisper, before moving up to tilt your chin so she can look at you properly.

Your mouth opens—some weak protest forming on your lips—but it dies when she meets your eyes.

“You’re lucky,” Caitlyn murmurs, her gaze trailing over your face like she’s cataloging every bruise, every scrape, every wrong thing she can’t fix. Her lips purse just slightly, a soft, worried quirk. “There’s a warrant with your name on it and your face sketched right at the top. If anyone else had caught you tonight—”

“They didn’t,” you interrupt. You force yourself to hold her stare. “And they won’t.”

It’s bold. Reckless, even. You know better than to make promises like that.

Behind Caitlyn, Vi scoffs. “Bold talk, coming from someone hiding in our apartment right now.”

Caitlyn’s fingers twitch on your chin, her thumb brushing just under your jaw. You see it in her face—the conflict, the silent battle between her sense of duty and something deeper, something softer. You wonder if she knows you see it, if she realizes how much you hate yourself for putting her through this.

“You can’t stay here,” Caitlyn says finally, stepping back. Her voice is gentler now, but firm. “Not long-term.”

“Like I don’t already know that,” you mutter.

Vi moves closer, leaning against the wall and crossing her arms. Her presence is a weighty thing, solid and grounding. Where Caitlyn is cool precision, Vi is something rawer, something that cuts sharper and bleeds deeper. “They’ll find you eventually, Y/N. If you keep coming back here, we’re all screwed.”

“And what do you want me to do, huh?” you snap, the words spilling out before you can stop them. “Keep running? Go to Zaun? You think I’ll last a week down there with Silco’s people crawling all over the place?”

Silence. Thick and suffocating.

Vi doesn’t answer, and Caitlyn doesn’t meet your eyes.

For a long moment, it feels like all of you are drowning.

Then, finally, Caitlyn sighs. The sound is soft, but it carries the weight of a decision she doesn’t want to make. She looks at Vi, and something unspoken passes between them.

“Fine,” Caitlyn says, her voice tight. “You can stay. But just for the night.”

You swallow, the tension in your chest loosening just a fraction. “Thanks.”

Vi’s eyes narrow, but she doesn’t argue. She just pushes off the wall, coming to stand next to Caitlyn. “You better not make us regret this.”

For the first time tonight, you feel something almost like relief. It’s fragile and fleeting, but it’s there.

Caitlyn moves first, gently tugging you toward the couch. “Sit. Let me clean you up.”

You don’t argue.

[stump-not-found]

Can't tell if you're reading or creating a 60k+ smutfic about Ford or doing both but would love to hear more.

Also in general if you have any fic reccomendations.. while we wait..

im writinggggg . im going insane writing like 5k every other day . the devil has taken my hands and demands i use ford's body like you might use a storage cabinet

i gave a more SFW reccs list a while ago lets go E rated now babes . at some point i'll learn to use the bookmarks feature.

rec's under the cut

Because & Despite

what if ford pines fucked . what if he fucked crazy style . honestly on of my favorites and i love that it's like the one sex fic that acknowledges the dude can and will do weird stuff w/ his genitals . he fucked a triangle lets get a little weird with it shall we

this is the same author who gave us gene wilder sex spiders which will imprint itself on me from now 'til my dying breath . it fucks me up because i also want to write sex spiders but i know i'm just chasing the shadow of a goliath i can never stand on the shoulders of

Every planet we reach is dead

classic "bill is back for XYZ reasons yay theraprism" scenario . some fun scenes but nothing will ever beat fiddleford walking in on an epic JO session . learn to knock, man

Property of Bill Cipher

if you like the more violent billford check this one out . gets his arm cut into and jerks off about it . such a fun dynamic i love when they're nasty about it . please for the love of god mind the tags

Anything at fucking all by @ancharan

it's all fucking good . im a particular fan of daily maintenance . master of taking weird scenarios and being sincere about it . also just really fucking good with words okay this is an author who inspires me to try even harder every day

there's probably a lot of oneshots ive lost track of because whoops i don't know how to use websites . someday i'll actually curate the fics i like . someday

[the-fallen-collective]

Important!!

Hello! We used to be pretty big with roleplaying, but it got more and more difficult for several reasons until we eventually stopped (and have only just started to come back into it slowly, we still struggle to respond quickly all the time)

However! One of the main reasons we ended up stopping has been resolved! We now are free to rp again and really do want to get back into it (though we may be slow at first, and we may not always get to asks right away as we do have a lot going on, but we do miss roleplaying)

here’s a list of all of our blogs you can look through (not all are rp but im too lazy to separate it):

@creatorbiaze @aredeemantagonist @star-tb @asillyprettything (people we did rp with quite a bit)

gonna tag people we’d like to rp with more as well: @trashlike (remember when i asked if i could make berry a friend? I think ardor or harlow could! Though ardor has more of a frenemy type vibe) @lemon-reef uhh cant think of anyone else rn

[theorahsart]

Im just really angry at the moment.

I think Im honestly more angry at the fact people slept walk into getting their rights stripped away than the actions themselves.

It's the apathy Im angry at. People not paying enough attention, or telling others to 'just stop talking about it' because they can apparently afford to switch off. The ones who say 'Why do you need to bring politics into it?' 'Just calm down!' 'I just stay away from all that'.

As if its not people's rights, people's lives at stake.

Those who try to stay out of these political situations, and not take a stand, have their part to play in creating the shit storm you're going to witness now.

I keep seeing ppl using the French Revolution tag as some kind of symbol for their cynicism for the current situation. But I keep thinking, what you want will never happen. Cos not enough people will actively do something to make it happen.

Frev happened because they had no democracy, they saw how important that was, and *everyone* enthusiastically got involved as soon as they saw their tiny window of chance.

The US on the other hand, technically had all the mechanisms in place to make sure the worst didnt happen, and not enough people showed up.

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

okay the we shouldn't turn sebastian in but it has the you don't have all the facts

i love him meme

THIS WAS REALLY HARD FOR ME BECAUSE THIS IS SUCH AN EMOTIONAL SCENE AND IM NOT SURE I DID THE BEST JOB INCORPORATING THE HUMOR OF THE MEME INTO THE WEIGHT OF THE SITUATION BUT I TRIED MY BEST ANON.

Words: ~1,100

Tags: Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, Canon Event Rewrite

The Undercroft was quiet, the usual sense of sanctuary replaced by an oppressive weight neither of you dared name. Ominis paced near the table, his wand gripped so tightly his knuckles turned white. You sat perched on the edge of a crate, arms crossed, watching him with unease. His usual composure had cracked, and the pieces were sharper than you were used to.

“We need to decide what we're going to do,” Ominis said, breaking the silence at last.

You straightened, already dreading where this conversation was headed. “I figured that was why you wanted to meet here.”

He stopped pacing and turned to face you. “I don’t want to lose him,” he admitted, his voice softer than you expected. “But I don’t think we have a choice.”

“You can’t mean that.”

Ominis stopped in his tracks, his blind gaze snapping toward you. “Can’t I? Merlin, look at what he’s done! The spells he’s used. The person he—” He stopped himself, swallowing hard. “He’s crossed too many lines.”

You stood, fists clenching at your sides. “But surely he hasn’t crossed the point of no return, Ominis. Not yet. We can still help him!”

“Help him?” Ominis snapped, a rare flash of anger breaking through his calm demeanor. “He doesn’t think he needs help. He’s convinced himself that everything he’s done is justified, no matter how wrong it is.”

“He was trying to save Anne,” you argued. “You know that.”

“And where does it end?” Ominis demanded, stepping closer to you. “When does trying to save Anne stop being an excuse for using Dark magic? For killing people?”

“He didn’t mean to!” you snapped, pushing off the wall.

Ominis’s face twisted with anger. “That doesn’t matter! He cast the Killing Curse. That’s not something you do by accident.”

“He was desperate!” you argued. “Solomon was threatening him. He panicked and you know it!"

“Panicked?” Ominis repeated, his voice rising. “That’s your excuse? He used Dark magic to murder his own uncle, and you think that’s something we can just brush aside?”

“I’m not brushing it aside!” you cried, stepping closer to him. “But sending him to Azkaban isn’t the answer. You know he wouldn’t survive there.”

Ominis shook his head, frustration written across his face. “He shouldn’t have to survive there, because he shouldn’t have done it in the first place! You’re acting like we can fix this, but we can’t. He crossed a line, and now there’s no going back.”

“There’s always a way back,” you shot back. “We’ve saved him before. We can do it again.”

“This isn’t like before!” Ominis snapped, throwing his hands in the air. “This isn’t him sneaking into the Restricted Section or using a spell he didn’t fully understand. He knew exactly what he was doing when he used that bloody relic, and he knew what he was doing when he cast that curse. He made his choice.”

“He made a mistake,” you said, your voice trembling. “He’s not some monster, Ominis. He’s our friend.”

"Was our friend," Ominis said, his voice breaking slightly.

You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. “So what, you’re just going to turn him in? Hand him over to the Ministry and let the Dementors destroy him?!"

Ominis flinched, his wand hand trembling. “If we don’t, and someone finds out we’ve been covering for him, they’ll come for us too,” he said, his voice quieter now but no less resolute. “It won’t just be Sebastian they punish. It’ll be all of us. You, me, even Anne. Do you want to see her dragged into this mess, after everything she’s already suffered?”

Your chest ached at the mention of Anne. You knew he was right about the risks, but the thought of turning Sebastian over to the Ministry made you feel sick. “We can’t just give up on him, Ominis. He’s not beyond saving.”

Ominis’s face twisted in anguish. “I don’t want to give up on him,” he said, his voice cracking. “But how do we save someone who doesn’t want to be saved?”

"We will find a way. We will," you said firmly, stepping closer to him again. "We'll pull him back from the edge."

“This isn’t a bloody edge,” Ominis muttered bitterly. “This is a cliff. And if he jumps again, we’re all going down with him.”

You placed a hand on his arm, your voice softening. “We haven’t lost him. Not yet. But if we send him to Azkaban, that’ll be it. There won’t be any hope left. Please, Ominis. One more chance.”

He turned his head slightly toward you, his expression filled with doubt and exhaustion. “And if he does it again? If he uses another Unforgivable or—Merlin forbid—kills someone else?”

"He won't."

Ominis stared at you, his face pale and tense, his expression hovering between disbelief and resignation. “You don’t know that,” he said quietly. “You can’t know that.”

You swallowed hard, your throat tightening. “I do.”

“How?” Ominis pressed, his voice sharper now, almost desperate. “How can you be so certain, after everything he’s done? After everything we’ve seen? He cast the bloody Cruciatus Curse on you and yet you still defend him! How can you be so bloody sure he won’t just do it again?”

"Because I know him, Ominis. And so do you! We know his heart. He’s not a monster. He’s not evil. He’s just… lost. And if we give up on him now, I don’t think he’ll ever find his way back.”

Ominis shook his head slowly, as if trying to process what you’d just said. “That’s not a fact,” he said, his voice trembling. “That’s... that’s not a reason to keep risking everything.”

“It is to me,” you said firmly. "Those are the facts. And I won't give up on him. Because I love him."

Ominis froze, his wand lowering as though the weight of your words had physically struck him. For a moment, it was as if the air had been sucked out of the Undercroft, the silence deafening.

“You…” His voice faltered, and he blinked, his pale eyes wide with shock. “You love him?”

“I do."

Ominis tilted his head back, letting out a long, slow exhale. “For Merlin's sake...” he muttered, though there was no malice in his tone. Just exhaustion. “Do you even... do you realize what you’re asking of me? All because you’re letting your feelings cloud your judgment?”

“I’m asking you to believe in him," you murmured. "Just one more time.”

He turned his head slightly toward you, his expression softening, though the pain in his eyes remained. “You really love him, don’t you?”

“I do,” you said again, the certainty in your voice unwavering. “And I think you do too. That’s why you haven’t gone to the Headmaster yet, isn’t it? He’s family to us, Ominis. And you don’t give up on family. Not when they need you most.”

For a long moment, Ominis said nothing. Then he nodded, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “Fine,” he said quietly. “One more chance."

[softness-and-shattering]

Okay mandatory* pause on the doom and gloom.

*I cant make you do anything Im not your real dad. But I am trying to help.

Share something, in the reblog, not the tags the actual reblog, of either something good thats happened today, something youre looking forward to, or if you have nothing find one pleasant thing in your surroundings or yourself right now, however small, and share it. The idea of the reblog is to get a long post that sort of viscerally shows how much good or ok or pleasant things are happening to people, you dont have to dig through the tags, the size of the post is measurable to the size of the good we are experiencing. If it gets obnoxious you can go to tags I guess but only if!!! Now tell me something nice or hopeful or pleasant or even a relief of a bad thing being removed! I dont care what, I care deeply that its *something*.

Ill go first, I impulse bought a chocolate and it was really good. Earlier today I communicated with an uber driver, who I noticed via the notification was messaging me in i think French, and modern technology allowed us to talk despite presumably not speaking the same language. Thats incredible. It also makes me think of that ?1920s short story about The Machine.

And third because why not and because anything counts, Ive been playing Stardew Valley and I unlocked the resort and pirate cove on ginger island which I have never done before. Im soort of casually working towards perfection, and Im the closest Ive ever gotten.

[patsvicr]

do you have any of the post drurgery fics people wrote, theres like 1 or 2 that i think were deleted, its okay if not they were dnf but its fine if you dont have them :)

hi anon! i remember 5 fics but they're all still up so im not sure if i can help you :,)

let me take that for you by gatzbright (G | 3.7k | post surgery; hurt/comfort)

“Are you sure he’s fine?” George asks. He doesn’t turn around, unable to tear his eyes away, but he knows Dream’s mom is still standing in the doorway.

“Honey,” she says softly, “he’s comfortable, I promise. And completely knocked out.”

George’s eyes sting and his throat aches. He tugs at the sleeves of his hoodie, pulling them down over his hands and resisting the urge to reach out and touch Dream. “But, um—” George bites his lip, feeling guiltier each time he doubts the knowledge of Dream’s mother—an experienced nurse. He exhales shakily and turns to look at her. “But he’s—he’s frowning. What if he’s in pain? What if the medication isn’t working and—?”

[Or, Dream is recovering from surgery and George won't leave his side.

even when you're far away by unluckysin (T | 6.6k | post surgery; friends to lovers)

“I did talk to him, about it, you know.”

“What? When?” Sapnap snapped his head over to look at him, his eyes scanning George for almost too long before he returned his eyes to the road.

“Years ago, maybe… maybe right before Covid? I don’t know…. I just know I brought it up, and before he really said anything, confessed anything, he told me we should wait for my move to America, and the second I got the VISA, we would talk it out, and figure out a way to make us work.” George sighed, running a hand over his hair and face.

“And he never mentioned it again?”

George rolled his eyes at Sapnap’s eagerness. “Nope, not ever.”

or

George thought he would be okay while Dream recovered from surgery at his parent's house, but somehow, he's been gone for four days and George needs to see him-- like, now.

you kissed stars (around my scars) by uhhh_Zoned (T | 3.7k | post surgery; scars; body worship)

The scar was going to be massive. That was the first thing Dream thought of when he woke up from surgery.

or

dream is extremely self conscious of his scar, so george worships him.

moss and porcelain by pondsofkoi (G | 1.8k | post surgery; scars; body worship)

“Dream?”

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

When Dream nods, George looks down at his torso. He looks back up, peering into his eyes.

“Can I look at your scar?”

Care(Take) by Bagelrites (SleepyAmie) (T | 2.8k | relationship discussions; insecurity; post surgery -> it's not the main theme of the fic. it's not even tagged but it's the last scene iirc)

George and Dream talk about love and effort and care, in different ways, at different stages of their relationship.