#( noxian appears )

[pitgritted]

thinking   about   sett's   appearance   usually   appearing   more   noxian   than   ionian   most   times   .   heavily   taking   after   his   father   ,   &   a   noxian   soldier's   attributes   :   brick   jaw   ,   broader   shoulders   ,   that   wrinkle   of   his   nose   around   the   crest   of   his   brow   ,   the   unrelenting   barrel   for   a   fight   .   the   darker   pigment   around   the   ball   &   lids   of   his   eyes   .

[vanbredevoort]

Anonymous asked: -- the demon hand reaches for her chin and tilts it up. he gazes upon her with piercing eyes.' When you're born noxian, you d i e a noxian, lydia. it will claim you, or i will. and to both, you answer ' (have this skdhajdgaj swain w h y)

"The fact that I was born in Noxus doesn't make me a noxian, Grand General. Not after the war, not after what you've DONE to an empire that had potential-- Potential you crushed under your hand because you crave POWER more than you'd like to admit, and you want to build it on blood."

She did not like being touched, yet she knew better than to test the depths of his power. The hand was just a reminder of how low he was willing to go for his goals, and she was smart enough not to become another victim of it.

"That's your problem, Grand General. That's what made you fall right into LeBlanc's deception. The Black Rose shall bloom once more", she repeated LeBlanc's words, knowing what it would cause. Fuck pretense. Fuck being careful-- maybe she wasn't that smart, "And it will be your doom. Demacia's doom. The entirety of Runeterra will perish because of your blindness. You toy with DEATH, constantly, you built an empire on top of CORPSES and you wait for trees to bloom there-- when only crows follow you."

She stared at him with defiance.

I'll not be another piece in your game.I'll not be a pawn for Noxus.

"You insist on ignoring what's right under your nose--- Bones make for shitty beams if you're trying to build an empire. And you... oh, Swain, you're consistent with it. Ignored Demacia's stubborness, lost land. Ignored Ionia's strenght, lost a hand. And now Viego is at your doorstep! The ruination! And since you don't know LOVE, you don't know how to stop it. You're helpless, as Viego was to keep daggers away from his love."

Her fingers clenched, fiddling close to the dagger hidden underneath her dress. Her own dagger. Isolde and Lydia would, eventually, have similar fates.

"Why do you want my help? Would you make of me another Katarina? I don't answer to you, Swain. I don't answer to Noxus. I don't answer to nations. I answer to my master, and he's beyond your petty charades and your broken morals."

[thesecondhandwoman]

Hi! Im usually too embarrassed to send requests but- maybe Ambessa with assistant reader? Whose so sweet and awkward and tries her best to help and follow ambessa around- (if it's not too much reader is from the undercity and worked hard to try and be were she is now)

HER LITTLE ASSISTANT

Ambessa x f!reader

Synopsis: You never fully grasped at the fact you had been chosen as Ambessa’s personal assistant, a simple girl who had climbed high from the Undercity. But now that you had the chance, you weren’t gonna give it up, no matter how nervous you may be.

Request: Anon 🤍

The Medarda estate in Noxus was every bit as imposing as its mistress. A sprawling fortress of crimson stone and black iron, it loomed over the city like a sentinel, unyielding and proud. It was fitting, then, that the woman who ruled within it was just as formidable.

You were not.

Trailing behind Ambessa Medarda as her assistant, you often felt like a tiny sparrow struggling to keep pace with a hawk. She strode through the halls with her characteristic confidence, her long strides and the sharp clink of her armor an unrelenting tempo you scrambled to match.

Your arms were laden with reports, a satchel bouncing awkwardly against your hip. You’d learned early on that Noxian efficiency left no room for mistakes, and as someone who’d clawed their way out of Zaun’s undercity, failure wasn’t an option.

“Keep up, little one,” Ambessa called over her shoulder, her tone teasing yet commanding.

“Yes, ma’am,” you chirped, nearly tripping as you hurried to close the gap.

She stopped abruptly, turning to watch as you skidded to a halt in front of her. Her sharp eyes swept over you, taking in your disheveled appearance and flushed cheeks.

“Well, I did not mean keep up by falling,” she chuckled, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Just breathe.”

“I—yes, of course,” you stammered, clutching the reports tighter. “Sorry, Lady Medarda.”

Her brow arched. “Ambessa. You’ve been working for me long enough to drop the formalities.”

“Right. Ambessa,” you repeated, though the name felt far too intimate on your tongue.

She seemed satisfied and gestured for you to follow. “Good. Now, let’s see if you’ve organized these reports properly.”

Ambessa’s days were relentless, filled with strategy meetings, inspections, and commanding the loyalty of those around her. You followed her through it all, your hands busy with ledgers and maps, your mind spinning as you tried to keep up with her sharp wit.

Despite your nerves, you’d started to notice small things about her. The way she rolled her shoulders after a long meeting. The faint smile that tugged at her lips when something amused her. The occasional soft glance she directed your way when she thought you weren’t looking.

She wasn’t cruel, not to you. Stern, yes. Intimidating? Always. But there was a softness to her that you suspected few ever saw. It was in the way she ensured you ate during long days, how she subtly slowed her pace when she noticed you struggling to keep up.

And sometimes, her touch lingered just a moment too long.

Like now.

The two of you stood in her private study, the soft glow of the hearth casting flickering shadows across the room. You were handing her a report when her fingers brushed yours. It was the barest of touches, but it sent a jolt through you.

“You’re trembling,” she remarked, her voice low and teasing.

“S-sorry,” you stuttered, quickly pulling your hand back.

She chuckled, setting the report aside. “Relax, little one. You’ve done well today.”

Her praise was rare and precious, and you couldn’t stop the warmth that spread through your chest. “Thank you, Ambessa. I just want to make sure I don’t disappoint you.”

Her expression softened, and for a moment, the weight of her armor seemed to lift. “You could never disappoint me.”

Like the others, the following days brought more of the same: relentless work, fleeting touches, and a growing tension that neither of you addressed.

Ambessa was always close, closer than necessary, you thought. When reviewing maps, she would stand behind you, her breath warm against your ear as she pointed out key locations. Her hand would sometimes rest on your shoulder, firm and reassuring.

It wasn’t inappropriate, but it was enough to make your heart race and your thoughts spiral. Did she even realize what she was doing to you?

One evening, as you prepared tea in the estate’s kitchen, Ambessa entered unexpectedly. You jumped, nearly dropping the kettle.

“Ambessa! I didn’t hear you,” you said, clutching the counter for support.

“I noticed,” she said with a smirk. “What are you doing down here?”

“I—well, I thought you might like some tea. You’ve been working so hard, and I just…” You trailed off, your cheeks burning.

Her expression softened, and she stepped closer. “That’s thoughtful of you.”

You swallowed hard as she took the kettle from your hands, her fingers brushing yours again. Her touch lingered, warm and deliberate.

“You’re too kind, little one,” she said softly, her gaze locking with yours.

Your heart thundered in your chest. “I just want to help.”

She smiled—a rare, genuine smile that made your knees weak. “You do more than help. You keep me grounded.

The tipping point came on a quiet night, weeks later. The day had been exhausting, and you were both in her study, the fire crackling softly as you worked through a final stack of documents.

Ambessa set her quill down, leaning back in her chair as she regarded you thoughtfully. “You’ve worked hard today. Come here.”

You hesitated, unsure of what she meant.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” she said, though her tone was more amused than stern.

You approached her cautiously, standing awkwardly in front of her chair. She reached out, her hands settling on your hips as she guided you to sit on the edge of the desk.

“Ambessa?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Shh,” she murmured, her thumbs brushing small circles against your sides.

Her touch was firm yet gentle, grounding you in a way that made your breath hitch. Her gaze was softer than you’d ever seen it, and the tension that had been simmering between you for weeks finally broke.

“I’ve been patient,” she said, her voice low and intimate. “But I can’t ignore this anymore.”

You blinked, your heart pounding. “Ignore what?”

“The way I feel about you,” she admitted, her honesty stealing the air from your lungs.

Your lips parted, but no words came. She cupped your cheek, her thumb brushing against your skin as she leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away.

You didn’t.

When her lips met yours, it was soft and tentative, as though she was afraid of overwhelming you. Her kiss was surprisingly gentle for someone so strong, her touch careful and reverent.

You melted into her, your hands finding their way to her shoulders as the world fell away.

When she finally pulled back, her forehead rested against yours, her breath warm against your skin.

“Tell me I’m not wrong,” she murmured, her voice laced with vulnerability.

“You’re not,” you whispered, your voice trembling but sure.

She smiled, her eyes holding a tenderness that made your chest ache. “Good.”

She slowly leaned back in, allowing her lips to ghost against yours once more. “Then let me continue to show my love for you.” She breathed before her lips captured yours again.

A/N: kinda mad I made this so short, but I hope it’s okay!!

[misswynters]

* . misswynters Arcane masterlist

here is the list of all my works!

note l it would greatly appreciated if you would not only just like, but also reblog & give me feedback. thank you!

last updated: December 1, 2024

smut (18+) / suggestive (s) / fluff (f) / angst (a)

Viktor

Broken & whole | The Noble Daughter (18+) | A Noxian Christmas (f)

His most prized possession (18+) | Scientific purposes (s) | Christmas Present (18+)

drabbles.

Jinx

XOXO (18+) | having a gf who’s touchy and affectionate (f) |

Lil Daredevils with big hearts (makes an appearance) |

The Idol Star |

drabbles.

spending time with ekko, her and your twin girls (f) |

Violet (Vi)

Distrust | Fighting fire (s)

Caitlyn

Cold Heart (s) | Impenetrable Fortress (f) | Princess Treatment (f, s) |

Ekko

Gilded Cage : part two, part three (s, f) | Ma Meilleure Amour (f) | Royal Harbinger | Boy Savior | Lil Daredevils with big hearts (f) | Zaun’s pride | Ekko eating you out (18+) | Pillow princess (s) | Academic Rivals (18+,s) | A love is born (f)

drabbles.

Ekko and heimerdinger being nerdy while you sleep (f)

Ekko being protective while you are expecting (f)

A lazy and calm day with ekko (f) | Tag, you’re it! (f) |

Ekko rewinding time to save you | Childhood Besties (f)

Getting into a slight argument while heavily pregnant (f) |

Spending time with him, jinx and your twin girls (f)

Alone in the rumble as you died in his arms (a) |

Getting Married | Drunken |

Headcanons with ekko: as your bf | your husband

Sevika

Brothel (18+) | Strapped up (18+) | Steel and sunshine (f)

Headcanon: sevika as you’re partner | Warrior’s bond (s): part two , part three (18+) |

Found Family (f) | More than a transaction | hands off

drabbles.

Ambessa/sevika ignoring you in public, affectionate in private (s)

Ambessa

Warrior’s bond (s): part two , part three (18+) |

drabbles.

Ambessa spoiling her girly s/o | Ambessa/sevika being cold in public, affectionate in private (s)

Mel

Elegance is key |

drabbles.

Spoiled Rotten | Her Golden Shield |

Seb

drabbles.

Him complaining to you after a days worth of work |

Silco

Desperately trying to find something more (s) | Possesive

Lest

Smoke and kisses |

Claggor (au)

Big Bear (f) | Underneath (s)

Arcane characters

Reacting to you: being a vs model (s) | Patching them up (f)

Other…

Misswynters Christmas series 2024

send requests to my inbox!

if you would like to be added to my taglist for arcane or anything else let me know!

banner by @anitalenia

[1920sladydectective]

Mhhhhh, maybe

-Ambessa x Babett's "Worker"

Or

-A captuered War Prize 😌

But also

-A Servant of Hers

Please dont feel forced to write anything, Just saw your request and wanted to give Suggestions.🙊💕

Hello darling! Thank you for the ideas, whilst I may visit them all I have done a captured war prize for now. It was supposed to be short and sexy but then it became..this? She plays the slow game and conquers the reader in other ways.

I hope you like it, thank you for the support <3

I haven't proof read it much because I am literally exhausted lol

MDNI 18+

Warnings - Manipulation, Mind Games, Captive, Degradation, Pet names, Reader doing accidental voyeurism, Oral, hair pulling.

Her Prized Possession - 3.8K NSFW

They’d come through like a tornado, ripping apart your entire life and feasting on the rubble. People had fled, terrified of the swift and unforgiving invasion. Those who remained were rounded up and tossed into carts. The ground shook, frightened by the fury of Noxus and at the heart of it all was her. Ambessa Medarda was renowned for her cruelty, her efficiency and most of all her greed. 

You were the perfect example of that. 

You had been pulled from your apothecary’s hut, cotton dress filthy from your attempts to hide. They raided you of your life’s work, people throwing you into a pile of frightened villagers. The air shifted, the soldiers straightening as certain steps commanded their attention. Without looking up you knew it was her, and fury burned bright. This self obsessed, pompous woman had destroyed your life and for what? She lingered a step away, sword raised lazily as if taunting farm yarn animals. You only had a few seconds, and even if it was fruitless you had to try. 

As others cowered, obeying her cruel words, you slipped your fingers around the knife in your sock and shot forward. Somehow it made contact, slicing a gash into her leg, trailing down her leg. 

“Monster,” You snarled.

You were risen into the air by your hair, a pained yelp leaning you as you stared into the eyes of a hungry beast. Golden eyes gazed at you, surprised and amused. You were going to die now, and she was laughing in your face. 

“She’ll do,” She said easily, throwing your body at the ground behind her, before wandering off with no sign of injury. Confusion had eaten you until two lean Noxian soldiers had appeared, spears in hand. 

Their touch was uncomfortably gentle, ushering you like a scared dog from the village into an imposing, structured tent. Fear licked at your bones, a fate worse than death settling on you like a thick cloak. Maids with pretty eyes and practised fingers removed your dress and replaced it with a soft red silk slip. Oh. You were a prize, an object like the towering pile of goods in their camp, to be used and discarded. 

It didn’t take long for them to chain you to a small post next to a large, velvet armchair. There you sat, resting on your knees on cold marble. You felt ornamental, your humanity dripped away as you merged with the surroundings. You could only be thankful that it was warm in the tent, for the winter winds howled outside as afternoon beckoned. 

When she entered you refused to look up, muscles tensing. 

“Sulking, are we Dear?” It was honeyed, as fabric dropped to the floor, “I wouldn’t, it was a good hit, if you’d gone up slightly it might have even done something,” 

Your cheeks coloured with frustration. You hated her, hated how small she made you feel, how effortlessly she had crushed you. Worst of all you hated the beauty she wielded. Like a serpent, blinding you with glittering scales as she wound around you, squeezing you till you burst. 

“Don’t tell me you’re ignoring me now,” She pouted, summoning your eyes instinctively, “There she is, brave warrior,” 

You frowned, “I suppose it’s not enough that I’m here, you have to mock my only agency,” 

Ambessa moved forward leisurely, in only black underwear and a robe, settling into her armchair, “I never mock a bold manoeuvre, little one, no matter how fruitless,” 

She tugged you forward slightly, your head forced to rest on her thigh as she poured a cup of tea. You grunted, staring at the rug between her legs as she intertwined her fingers in your hair. Her touch was kind and repetitive, caressing your locks as she picked up a book and began to read aloud. Adrenaline was drowning you but your anticipation garnered nothing. She stayed like this for hours, muttering to you. The fire and her touch forced you into acknowledging your exhaustion. Occasionally she would offer water, fingers wielding a crystal glass for you. It took five tries for you to accept, your throat aching from dehydration. You were rewarded with a scratch under your chin as her voice continued to wash over you. In another life this would have filled you with contentment and it grated at you. 

Moments later you were being moved again, picked up as though a feather to rest on her silky thighs. The hand she reattached to your head pushed you into the crook of her shoulder, her smell potent and warm. Iron and sweat clashed with spices and sea air, leaving your flagging mind woozy. You couldn’t escape and you had no way of harming her, so sitting in her lap became your only option. 

You hadn’t noticed your fluttering eyelids and heavy breath until your stomach growled, cramping at its emptiness. Her voice stopped immediately as the book slammed shut. Those eyes, now kind, surveyed you. With a melodic ring, a bell to her side beckoned two maids. 

“What do you wish to eat?” Ambessa asked, tucking a strand behind your ear, “I shall share whatever you have,” 

“Pork stew,” You muttered, desire for food and comfort outweighing your doubts. If she’d wanted you dead, you’d be a corpse. 

“A local delicacy, I’m told,” Her words are in your ear, lips practically against them. 

The food arrived faster than you’d thought possible, steaming and hearty in little gold bowls. Your stomach interjected again, eyes wide and desperate. To your immense surprise, she undid your shackles and allowed you to feed yourself. Though you were still anchored to her lap by a strong arm, this newfound freedom caused a rush of joy. The stew was exceptional, though more decadent than you ever would have had it. The chef must have had a heavy hand with the spices, no cares as to their cost, the heat flooding you. Ambessa seemed comforted too, her portion over double yours as you watched in subtle amazement at her appetite. It could have fed a family of four from your village with ease. 

Whatever plans she had for you, it seemed she would not be enacting them tonight. Your silk slip was a nightgown and nothing more, as she moved with you through the tent into an adjoining room with a large, fur covered bed. 

“Now then,” Her hand held your chin, “Shackles for bed tonight, wouldn’t want you wandering off until you’ve proved your loyalty,” 

Loyalty? That’s what she wanted?

The metal felt warmer than before, less weighted as she clasped it shut and bundled you up. Her form slid in next to you, though she mercifully did not insist you touch her. You did not speak, unable to give her the satisfaction after having to tolerate so much, though she wished you a tender goodnight. 

Your sleep was fitful, filled with slashing blades and burning embers. You awoke alone, furs wrapped tight. A slip of parchment was to your left in a sharp hand. 

I shall be away all day, 

There are clothes and some books on my armchair for you.

Mira will see to anything you need, 

A.M.

True to her word, a slight serving girl entered the moment you moved to the main space, trays of food and drink with her. She helped you dress, braided your hair and even undid the shackles. 

“Lady Medarda said this is a show of trust,” Her words were clear, as if dictating from a note, “If you attempt anything, guards will be on you before you can lift a scrap of the tent’s fabric,”

“Lovely,” You grumbled to yourself, “Her trust gives me the ability to lift a glass unaided,”

“If you behave she will bring your medical journals and allow you to sleep without restraint,” She said, a smile on her face. Of course she had predicted you’d complain. 

The book she had read to you yesterday was in the pile and after breakfast you found yourself wanting to learn its conclusion. Warm in the wool trousers and jumper Ambessa had provided you, you sat in the chair and finished it. If Mira had any opinions about you sitting in her Mistress’s chair she did not voice them, and the small rebellion quieted some of the caged panic that rattled in your chest. Her slowness to act just gave you time to think of an escape plan and then you could get away elsewhere 

The sun set quickly, your time wasted with dozing and books as you memorised each corner of the room. Though this was technically a tent, it was secured enough to act as a house, with the only way out being forward which wasn’t a way out at all. Lady Medarda ensured that. 

When Ambessa returned dinner had long since passed, and you had begrudgingly put yourself to bed. The curtain parted and her fatigued face came into view. 

“There you are,” She sighed, “I thought you would have dug a tunnel out of here by now,” 

“Cutlery’s too dull, no doubt a coincidence,” You found yourself quipping, observing the way her mouth creased into a grin. 

“No need for a sharp knife when your meat is tender,” She purred, moving to the other side of the bed and removing her outer clothes, “Did you have a restful day?”

She seemed genuinely interested, and not for the first time you wondered where the wolf had gone. Shifting your tactics in the hopes of softening her, you gave a muffled answer. Mollified, she curled up as she had the night before and fell asleep almost immediately. 

You were gloriously shackleless and yet if you fled now she would probably crush your throat before both feet hit the floor. It was expected this first night, and probably the second, a test of your resolve and patience. The only way to go would be when she genuinely trusted your obedience. 

Ten days and a camp change later you were beginning to lose patience. She was vigilant, but considerate and it left you now windows of opportunity. You weren’t a hardened warrior as she had joked that first day, you were an apothecary with nothing to do but lounge around and be read to by a infamous warlord. You were beginning to feel mad, a life of leisure so roughly thrust upon you. The conditions only improved with the move and her tent now had its own bathroom, a humongous glistening tub calling to you. Ambessa had begun to ask you for opinions on her expansion plans, seemingly wanting to preserve the charm of your land whilst overpowering it with Noxian glamour. WIth your input she kept the old churches and allowed your people to tend to their lands if they swore allegiance to Noxus. 

In a gilded cage, miles away from your home, you weighed the advantages of staying entangled against the bliss of freedom. The guards were becoming more lax, allowing you to wander through parts of the camp and make friends with Mira and the other maids. She had not harmed you, save pulling your hair that first day and you were well provided for. She’d even managed to tug more substantial conversations from you, even when they lacked a business element. You’d told her of your journey to becoming an apothecary, and she had explained the first time wore armour, clattering to the floor mid fight. 

At night, as rain slammed down and the wind chilled your toes, you would gaze longingly at the doorway and then find yourself tugged into warm, firm arms. Much like reading time, you were held and pressed into her, scent dizzying. She smiled, you had noticed, when she cradled you in her sleep. Each time it would wipe the door from your mind as you succumbed to a more contented sleep. Most confusing of all, she was showing no signs of tiring of you as a ‘toy soldier’ as she had affectionately dubbed you. Nobody seemed to understand why you lingered in her space rather than being given your own, perhaps not even her. 

On the thirtieth day things shifted. After dinner, a heavy dress floating around your feet, you slipped back into the tent and were met with breathy, loud moans. Not Medarda’s, though she was clearly the cause. Hidden by the thick curtains, a high female voice begged and cried the warlord’s name, the creaking of your bed audible. 

Your bed. 

Her bed, you corrected grimly, embarrassment sticky in your throat. The noise ceased almost immediately after you had entered, and your feet froze to the ground. A nameless, unknown girl slipped from the bedroom, meeting your gaze with a pleasure struck face. A vapid giggle left her as she slipped past you. 

Ambessa appeared moments later, robe loose around her, with an easy expression. It darkened imperceptibly in your presence, though you felt the subtle chill. 

“I didn’t realise you were back, Warrior,” She muttered, voice heavy, “That wasn’t planned, I-I shall notify you if I intend to use our space like that,”

Our. 

Wait, did she think you’d be jealous?

“How the mighty have fallen,” You scoffed, unable to meet her gaze, “Shouldn’t I be fearing consequences from you, as the captive,” 

“You’re not the one with a new leg scar,” 

Touche. She seemed to hold you on a pedestal for that act alone and you had yet to decipher why. 

It was made clear by the flurry of people that the bedroom was stripped and remade. It calmed you, the faceless woman erased from the space though you and Ambessa lingered. You didn’t care what she did with her love life but you decided you didn’t need to know about it. 

Unfortunately, it was hard to avoid. Trysts, people trying to charm their way into your her bed as you ate at the communal table and several conquests leaving that you had to face the next day. It made your stomach ache, fingers dancing with nervous energy every time she lay next to you, her scent changing every so slightly if she had had company. Almost another month passed with you on tenterhooks, stuck between the safety of your leisure with her and the stain of sin on your sanctuary. 

The worst of all had to be tonight though. You had awoken alone for the first time, colder than ever, when you heard it. Ambessa’s blissful sigh. She was actively being pleasured in her armchair whilst you fucking slept. Through a crack in the curtain you could see tan legs kneeling just as you had that first night, between her thighs with their head on her skin. The notable difference was how they devoured her, pulling dark moans and filthy words from her gravelly voice. It was hard to ignore, her scent drenching you in the bed you shared as she used another’s body. You tried to stifle the noise, covering your ears and burrowing into the bed. This made the scent issue exponentially worse, especially when the mattress dipped and her still sex slicked body curled against your form. Her lips kissed your forehead, the burn of her skin scalding you. 

Her pleasure haunts your dreams, lurking shadows and echoing noise. Close, but just out of reach. For the first time you wake before her, skin muggy and unsettled as you dressed in a robe and wandered into the morning dew. The grass was beginning to have that telltale icy crunch, cracking under your velvet slippers as you slipped out of the camp unnoticed. Your thoughts sit like damp coffee grounds, thick and grainy as you fight the memories of the night before, choking what they make you feel. It was not jealousy, it was anger to be sure.

There was no direction to your wandering. The treeline called to you with its snowy arms reaching high, animals dancing through the dense white landscape. Not too far in the distance there stood a frozen lake and a childish part of you yearned to skate across it, your body moving you unbidden. It was larger up close, iridescent swirls of nature showing the loose water below. It reminded you of how you felt about your life now, about Ambessa. 

Fear and nostalgia sat steadfast as your ice, hardening your resolve and keeping your wit sharp, but beneath was the flow of her. In two short months she had managed to nurture your underfed body and mind, relishing in your rebellion and cherishing your input. The warlord existed so clearly to you, but you could not reconcile her with the reader who brewed you floral tea. One stirred anxiety and the other calm. Picking up shards of ice and flinging them across the lake, you attempted to untangle the Noxian web within you. Sparkles of sunlight grew higher as you stewed, beginning to blind you as you stepped closer to the edge, ice grunting under you. 

“I’m not sure you’re dressed for whatever this is,” Ambessa’s voice rang out, her body leaning against a tree. 

You had sensed her, though her movements were muffled, form tightening. 

“Something troubling you?” 

“Just fancied a walk,” 

“In a robe and slippers?” She snorted, “Some walk indeed,” 

“Did you need something?”

“You, Dear,” She muttered, at your back in an instant, “I woke up alone,” 

Your heart panged oddly, her presence fueling the rushing currents under the ice, as you lent into her warmth. “Here I am,” 

Her cloak engulfed you, dragging you under as her dulcet tones rasped in your ear, “Let’s get you home, Little one,” 

Home.

It occurred to you then as you stumbled back with her that perhaps you hadn’t been a prisoner in a while. Here you stood, free and yet wishing only to return to the warmth she had made for you. 

A bath was drawn and you crawled into it obediently. Her eyes were shut, though she cleaned your hair and muttered to you about her day to come. It was peace. It was bliss. It was your worst nightmare. Cold receded and you allowed yourself to slip into a warm lull. 

She left soon after, leaving behind new pyjamas and a sweetbread. You stayed in bed, as confused and dazed as those first weeks. 

That night you were awoken by the same wanton sounds in the living room and your nostrils flared, fingers crushing the softness of your sheets. Your emotions flopped again. You hated her. She was vile and infuriating and brutal and somehow constantly having fucking sex. 

When Ambessa slid into bed this time, sweet smells of pleasure wafting from her, you let out a growl. 

“DId I wake you?” She muttered, a smile etched on her lips. 

“You don’t touch me like that,” It slipped out, fury and turmoil.

“Pardon?” Her eyes had darkened, observing you curled and tense. 

“W-We do everything else, you treat me as an equal and give me freedom, but you use our space for cheap pleasures whilst I sleep,” 

“I was unaware it was a pro-”

“You don’t touch me like that,” It was a whine now, “Why?”

“You’ve never asked, little warrior,” Her voice was sin, soaking you and tugging you close, “I didn’t realise you were unhappy with me,”

“Please,” You croaked, gripping her forearm weakly, “I-”

Her lips were on yours, firm and rough, her tongue slipping into your mouth. Pretty girl, she thought, delicate and hers. You melted like butter, nuzzling close and stroking her grey curls. She was perfect, and you finally had all of her. Her fingers danced along your silk nightgown, cupping a breast with a firm hand. Leaning forward, she nipped at your neck as skilled hands massaged neglected flesh. You were keening instantly, eyes glossy and lips parted. 

Minutes drained away against her ministrations as your thighs rubbed together, the burn beginning to hurt as she teased your pebbled nipples in her mouth. Your nightgown was wet from her saliva, and the friction of the fabric with her tongue had you rutting against her thigh. Bruises were forming on your neck, your upper body ruined before she’d even undressed you. 

“Please,” It seemed the only word you could remember, puffy mouth slurring it at every opportunity. 

“Again,” She teased, finally ripping your clothes from you, “Louder,”

You pleaded and gasped, each word heightening your arousal, your desperation, as her fingers stroked your folds. She was kind, allowing you the pleasure you yearned for, slicked thumb rubbing circles on your clit as she stretched you slowly. 

Ambessa felt a swell of triumph. It had taken her endless hours of uncharacteristic kindness and stern patience, allowing you to cycle through defiance, anger and acceptance as often as you needed until you finally succumbed. You were drenched and mewling against her, sex drunk eyes stuck to her. It had been fulfilling, breaking you in, just as she had suspected when she caught eyes with a crazed, dirt covered woman with the audacity to wield a blade to her. 

Tugging orgasm after orgasm from you, cunt quivering and tensing as you drooled mindlessly, she relished in her victory. Her power was etched into you now. 

“Silly girl,” She cooed, voice a knife edge, “I knew I could make you mine,”

Her words cut through the tingling fog. You realised, with a dizzying stab, that you had always been her war prize, she just hadn’t conquered you till now. Each tender touch and measured interaction was to break you into her willing little toy and here you were, fucking yourself shamelessly on her thick digits. You would have been more hurt, a flare of resistance kicking in, if it weren’t for the unabashed love and satisfaction in her eyes. Well then, you guess you’d both been played. The mighty warlord may have broken you, reshaping your desires, but she had fallen in love in the process and you would relish that till your dying breath. 

“Wouldn’t it have been easier to just use me months ago,” You quipped, starting a slow and methodical worship of her scarred body. 

“You wouldn’t have wanted it, warrior,” She muttered, amused by your acceptance, “I am many things, but I only fuck those who ask,” 

“I want it,” You sucked her nipple, humping her leg as her eyes slammed shut. 

“I know, doll,” Her hands pulled your hair, making you yelp happily, “You soaked my hand like a good girl to prove it,” 

For a moment, as you curled between her legs and began to eat like a woman starved, you wondered if this was the right choice. 

Ambessa let out a noise, confusing to your ears. It was nothing like the others you had heard in her time with others, it was delirious and light, happy pants slipping out as you sucked and fucked her with your tongue. She came quickly, face blank as she suffocated you with her cunt. Her touch, despite it all, was tender. She was yours and you were hers. 

There was nothing more right than that. 

[claire-kie]

vision, guile, might… and sacrifice.

a comic study of ambessa’s noxian principles of war as they appear in arcane season ii act ii.

[lorasdolly]

𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐘 ᯓᡣ𐭩

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ; ꜰᴇᴍ!ꜱᴇʀᴠᴀɴᴛ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ᴀᴍʙᴇꜱꜱᴀ ᴍᴇᴅᴀʀᴅᴀ

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ; ᴏɴ ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ'ꜱ ᴅᴀʏ, ᴀ ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ꜱᴇʀᴠᴀɴᴛ ꜱʜᴀʀᴇꜱ ʜᴇʀ ᴛʀᴏᴜʙʟᴇᴅ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ɪɴ ᴢᴀᴜɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀᴍʙᴇꜱꜱᴀ ᴍᴇᴅᴀʀᴅᴀ, ʀᴇᴠᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ ʜᴇʀ ʜᴀʀᴅꜱʜɪᴘꜱ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏxᴜꜱ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ꜰᴏꜱᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴀ ʀᴀʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ʟᴇᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴏʀᴇ.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ; ʟᴇꜱʙɪᴀɴ ꜱ3x, ᴅᴇɢʀᴀᴅᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴀʙᴜꜱᴇ, ᴘʀᴏꜱᴛɪᴛᴜᴛɪᴏɴ, and ᴀʟᴄᴏʜᴏʟɪꜱᴍ

(the smut was written with one hand, forgive me if it sucked lol)

Mothers day was a special day for every mother, they'd receive appreciative gifts and support from their kids, jewelry and bouquets from their husbands.

For Ambessa, the well known warlord of the noxian nation, it was just an ordinary day. It wasn't as if her and Mel were going to reconcile any time soon, and what was the point in celebrating an ordinary day?

Ambessa was in nothing but a maroon red robe as she sat on her balcony, gazing at the view in front of her as you, her personal servant, stood next to her, ready to tend to her.

She glanced at you for a few seconds before turning back to look at the view of her nation, clearing her throat before deciding to say something.

"It is truly a shame you do not celebrate Mother’s Day and have to be by my side instead, my dearest." Ambessa lied through her teeth, she was only curious of what your answer might be.

"I have no husband, miss medarda." you spoke smoothly, not hesitating to answer her inquiries.

Ambessa shrugged and leaned back into her chair, crossing her legs and resting her chin on her knuckles on her jaw, a habit she does quite often when she ponders about something. "You could have a boyfriend." She said bluntly.

You shake your head swiftly, pursing your lips together. You turned to the wine, refilling the glass she had waiting to be poured into.

"Happy mother's day to you anyways, miss medarda."

"Oh? How sweet of you, dear." She chuckled, glancing at you from her peripheral vision, still leaning back into her chair.

"Thank you, I suppose." She muttered, taking a few long seconds before asking another question, it piqued her curiosity.

"You are quite young, it is surprising that you are not interested in starting a potential family." She spoke, not shying away from usually personal questions.

"I busy myself with work, miss medarda," you spoke with a soft tone, an edge of indifference towards the idea.

"I don't plan on marrying a man anytime soon." you said this part more quietly, not sure if continued context was appreciated at the moment.

She chuckled a second time at the answer, it was quite amusing to her how simple and straightforward you were. "Good point. What about women, then? Any luck in that department?"

A flush appeared on your face, coughing slightly when she threw the out-of-the-blue question. "No ma'am." you said, not elaborating any more.

But she decided to dismiss the subject for now, shifting back to facing the view in front of her.

Ambessa let out a somewhat tired exhale and shifted herself a little before asking, "Could you do something for me?" 

You nodded, making eye contact with her stern gaze. You've seen her in ceremonies, she's firm with her words and actions.

You were one of the few who saw her resting, but far from vulnerable.

She stood up from her chair, still clad in nothing but her loose red robe, it exposed a good chunk of her thick muscular thighs and a little bit of cleavage too, of course. 

"Prepare a nice hot bath, will you?" Ambessa said casually before making her way inside the room, with you following behind her.

Your hands constantly rested behind your back unless you were serving her.

You entered her bathroom, it was larger than any other one in the estate. Ambessa knew the importance of relaxation, and she took it to heart.

The tub was large and deep, filled with water so hot that steam was coming off the surfaces of it. It was just how she liked it.

Ambessa was untying her robe, letting it loosen and fall carelessly to the floor, she then started walking towards the tub, letting out a satisfied sigh at the sight of it.

You've been her undressed many times, but you never failed to avert your gaze in nervousness.

She looked over at you, you seemed to be still staring at her, so she decided to be a little cheeky. "Are going to watch me in the bath the whole time?"

You took your spot behind her, a small stool for you to sit on. Carefully, your hands massaged her back, untying any knots she carried on her back. "Would you prefer of me to leave, ma'am?"

"Mhm, please do continue." She spoke, body releasing tension.

Ambessa closed her eyes, leaning back and letting out a small sigh as you started to massage her shoulders, those strong yet tired muscles. Your hands were gentle and pleasant, yet firm and efficient. 

"You do such a good job. It’s almost like you have done this a thousand times." She spoke with a pleasant tone.

"You deserve mental repose, ma'am." You spoke close to a whisper, not wanting to disrupt her peace.

"Especially on Mother's day." you added.

"You’re too sweet," She opened her eyes and glanced down at herself and then at you before smirking a little.

Her eyes were mostly focused on your hands massaging her shoulders. She was just imagining how else your hands could be used, perhaps in other kinds of massages.

Ambessa shook her head slightly as if dismissing a thought that suddenly popped into her head. 

"You surely carry the figure of a warrior, ma'am." you spoke, the praise falling off your tongue easily. It was far from a lie.

Ah, she truly adored when people praised her.

Ambessa’s smirk grew wider, her eyes still fixated on you. "You’re flattering me, little one," She said in a smooth and sultry voice, mixed with her raspy tone.

"Are you this nice and gentle to everyone you serve?" she half joked, but expected a response of some kind.

"Maybe. Perhaps far more towards you, ma'am." You had served many people from the Medarda house, even Mel Medarda at some point when she was only a child, but a sense of familiarity came from serving Ambessa.

She chuckled at your reply, taking it as an interesting answer. "And why is that? Why treat me any different, hm?"

Ambessa leaned her head back a little, giving your hands access to the base of her neck, still smirking and looking at you.

"I have served you the longest," you said, but more words rested at the tip of your tongue. You didn't allow them to slip, silently swallowing them.

Ambessa’s smirk changed into a small little smile as her gaze turned from a somewhat sultry one to a more warm one, an unexpected change, a rare one, too.

"I suppose I don’t mind your presence either, little one," She let out a deep and relaxed exhale, closing her eyes again.

"You’re actually more pleasant to be around than my own offspring at times." She spoke with a hint of bitterness in her tone now.

"I'm sure that's far from the truth, miss medarda." you said in a poor attempt at comfort.

You knew she didn't require comfort, nor pity. She was a strong woman.

"Many consider you.. Intimidating, miss medarda." you began, wishing to change the subject.

"Intimidating, huh?" Ambessa smirked again, opening her eyes and glancing at you again, now amused at your words.

"You’re not afraid, are you?" She chuckled, her gaze shifting from a more casual one to one with a slightly more suggestive look now.

"I..i don't think i have any reason to be afraid. i don't do anything to anger you, and you're a woman of reason." You spoke, a hint of tenderness behind your words.

"You wouldn't hurt me without reason." you finished.

"Correct," She spoke in her sultry tone again, still smirking

Her gaze was fixated on you again, her eyes slowly and slowly looking over you head to toe, as if she was inspecting you. Her smirk grew wider as her eyes traveled further and further down. 

"You seem to have a good head on your shoulders, smart girl." She paused for a moment, still looking you over intently.

Her gaze was nearly frightening.

She looked around before continuing. "And a lovely body as well."

A gentle smile graced your face, compliments from Ambessa Medarda were unusual.

"Thank you, Miss Medarda."

Ambessa hummed to herself, seemingly pleased by your appearance and your words, but that was not the only thing that was currently pleased.

She leaned back and closed her eyes again, "Keep massaging, will you?"

Her tone was commanding and assertive, like she expected you to do without arguing.

Your hands kept skillfully massaging, digging into ever tense muscle she had.

She closed her eyes and let out another satisfied hum, enjoying your massaging skills.

Ambessa sat still for quite a while, feeling your hands on her shoulders and back, until she finally spoke once more.

"You’re skilled at this," She said, a hint of satisfaction mixed with desire in her tone. 

One of your finger tips traced over her scars, they were scattered all over her arms, back, and shoulders.

They were healed, meaning they were old enough to forget. Gently, you traced the last one and spoke. "You have a handful of scars. You've been in war quite a lot."

She opened her eyes for a moment, glancing at the many scars all over her lower arms, but not giving it too much attention, she's had them for years now after all.

Ambessa chuckled a little as you asked that question, it was such a harmless yet casual question to ask a renowned warlord.

"Most of them, yes." She replied, her tone indifferent, as if she was merely talking about the weather.

"I'm sure it's exhausting to always be carrying the pressure of being on the frontlines." You said, your massaging becoming slower and softer.

Her expression became somewhat solemn for a moment as she remembered all the battles and wars she was involved in.

There was a pang of tiredness and exhaustion within her, but she quickly dismissed it and her expression became one of indifference again. 

"It’s just part of life," She replied bluntly, like it was just a simple task, like having breakfast or taking a walk. "I was born, bred, and raised to be a warrior."

You hesitated for a moment, deciding whether or not to mention something. A moment of relatability. "I have.. a couple of scars, too."

You backtracked for a moment, "Not any as brutal as yours, I'm sure."

That piqued her interest.

Ambessa lifted her head up again and moved her head to the side, looking at you, she let out a scoff and raised an eyebrow at you, a mix of surprise and curiosity in her eyes.

"A couple, you say?" She spoke in a slightly intrigued tone.

You remembered moments of weakness, seconds of vulnerability that have coated your identity all your life.

It's been a part of you for as long as you've known, much different than Ambessa.

"Near my thighs and belly." you clarified, clearing your throat.

She looked down at your thighs on cue as you spoke, her gaze lingering there for a few moments.

A little hum escaped her lips as she did so, but she was still somewhat interested in knowing how you received those scars, of course.

"How’d you get them?"

Ambessa spoke with an interested and curious tone, but there was a hint of playfulness in there as well. 

"I wasn't.. always a Medarda servant, ma'am." You spoke quietly, an edge of uncertainty in your voice.

Her eyebrow raised again, her interest grew even more now.

Ambessa turned her body a little to the side and leaned an elbow on the tub’s edge, looking directly at you and now giving you her undivided attention.

And she was also somewhat fixated on your thighs again, eyeing them, she was visibly somewhat distracted.

You tensed, sitting straight with your hands now resting on your lap. "I come from Zaun. Then.. the Medarda family found use for me."

"I'm eternally grateful." You spoke, gratitude coating the tip of your tongue.

Ambessa kept her eyes fixated on your thighs for a few more seconds before she shifted her gaze to your stomach instead, fabric covering the scars there too.

She let out scoff before speaking in an almost mocking tone. "Eternal gratitude to the Medarda house, you say?"

You nodded. Your eyes gazed at her features, the firmness behind them. Your eyes differed, sparks in every corner of your eyes.

She chuckled again and looked over your body, taking in the scars before returning her gaze back to your face.

"Is that so?" Ambessa smirked before shifting her body even more towards you, she leaned a little closer to you now, eyeing you expectantly, waiting for your reply. "And why is that?"

"I would have much more scars if it weren't for the Medarda house." You thought of the possibilites, where you could've been right now.

Pained in the middle of Zaun, stuck working in the same place.

She hummed, seemingly pleased with your answer. Ambessa nodded in response and continued.

"And why do you think they took you?" She inquired with an intrigued expression.

"I'm useful." You replied curtly, knowing your place, why you were there.

The clock from her bedroom ticked, and silence encircled you and Ambessa.

That answer left her somewhat unsatisfied and wanting more, she wanted to know how exactly you are of use, though it was not difficult to see that you were pretty. 

Ambessa leaned closer again, her voice lowering and becoming huskier, her smirk growing wider. “And how are you useful, hm? Do tell me."

“They say I am a good listener. And pliant.” Your voice didn't crack as you spoke, unashamed of who you were, how you were.

It got you this far.

"Pliant, hm? An obedient little thing, aren't you?" Ambessa’s tone was still lower, even, and her smirk grew wider upon hearing those adjectives, those descriptions of you. 

Her eyes flicked to your thighs again, looking over them in an almost admiring manner. Your hands covered certain scars on your lap. You felt judged, to a certain extent. Like she judged you for not disobeying, for not rebelling.

Quickly, you came to your own defense. “It makes my life easier. I know I won't be above anyone anytime soon, so why attempt?” you kept being respectful even though her gaze secretly made you feel uneasy.

That made her chuckle again, amused and intrigued at your answer.

Ambessa’s smirked widened slightly before leaning down farther, now looking down at your body sitting below her, and looking over it intently, her gaze stopping on your thighs again.  "It is wise to know your place in life," She said in a low, almost murmuring tone, like she was speaking that as a piece of advice to you.

"You know yours, don’t you?” she knew you did, but she wanted clarification. She wanted you to say it. To admit you're beneath her and all of those you served, or at least that's how you understood her question.

“Yes ma’am,” you said, not specifying what your place is. You didn't want to. "Good," She said plainly, still looking over your body.

Ambessa let one of her hands gently rest on your thigh, caressing the scars that were there and enjoying the sight of your thighs, before letting out a very satisfied hum. “I do enjoy pliant and obedient people, they really are more useful, aren’t they?”

“I’d hope so.” You said softly. You didn't deny the breadth of your subordination, how that did make you beneficial or simply convenient to keep around.

At this point, there was no denying that she was intentionally letting her hand rest on your thighs, no doubt enjoying the feeling of your skin under her finger tips. She chuckled again before speaking in a slightly more commanding tone. "Have you always been this good and useful, little one?"

Your hands rested on your lap, apprehension in every crevice of your bones. “To be truthful with you, I worked in a brothel at Zaun.” You chose not to be ashamed. “I needed to be flexible. That is where I got these scars..” Your voice had grown confident speaking about it.

Others in the Medarda house knew about your origin, but not Ambessa.

Ambessa’s hand continued to rest on your thigh, now beginning to slowly and gently caress it. She seemed somewhat surprised by hearing that you were a brothel worker, her hand stopped moving and her expression changed for a moment, seemingly somewhat disturbed and displeased.

Then a few seconds passed and her hand started moving on your thigh again and her expression became somewhat neutral again, though there was still a hint of dislike visible in her eyes.

"Hm." Ambessa hummed, her tone becoming a little more authoritative again. “And how… utilized were you in the brothel? How pliable were you?” Ambessa asked that question in a somewhat commanding and definitive tone, wanting an honest reply, she looked at you with a more grave facial expression.

“I allowed many things to happen to me.” You looked down, making direct eye contact with Ambessa. “I needed to let them do it.”

Her expression changed to one of displeasure again once you spoke. She let out a scoff and looked you over for a few more seconds, still with a slightly discontent expression. “A poor woman in need, then? A woman desperate for money to survive." Ambessa spoke with a mocking and almost condescending tone, but there was also a hint of curiosity in it as well.

“They’d pay more depending on how much I’d let them do.” You spoke softer this time, hinting at the nonexistent limit you set on your “clients.”

Your lips continued to purse, tense at the thought of how much you were sharing. That made her chuckle again, this time it wasn’t a satisfied chuckle, it was more of a sinister one. "Did they treat you cruelly, then? Were they cruel to you?" Ambessa spoke in an almost sneering tone as she looked you over again, eyeing your body and taking in your scars once more.

“Yes, Miss Medarda.” You replied firmly, not sugarcoating your experiences. You stood your ground, refusing to feel guilty for doing what was necessary to survive. At your blunt response, her expression changed yet again, a sinister smirk appearing on her face now.

Ambessa’s hand still continued to gently stroke your thigh as she spoke in a more mocking and even cruel tone, an odd excitement visible in her eyes. "And you allowed it, didn’t you, little one?”

Your thigh had goosebumps from her calloused hands running over them, trying to keep eye contact. “Yes, I did.”

Her hand suddenly stopped moving, now gripping your thigh more firmly, her nails digging into your skin a little, but not enough to break it. Ambessa’s smirk became even wider, clearly enjoying holding some power over you like this, enjoying that submission from you. 

Her tone was still mocking and cruel, even as she spoke. "How… pathetic.”

“Please excuse me if this tarnishes the perception you had of me.” you said, hoping she didn’t think any differently of you. You weren’t apologetic but craved her approval, her validation.

Her smirk slowly faded after a while when your words sunk in. Ambessa’s grip on your thigh lessened, her hand and fingers no longer digging into your skin so firmly.

“Tarnishes?” She spoke that word with a scoff and a hint of irritation in her tone.  "You think I think less of you because you were forced to do that?”

Ambessa then looked at you with a slight glare, her gaze more intense and serious now, it was as if she was trying to see right through you, reading your true thoughts. “You have mistaken what I said.” you corrected, averting your gaze this time. “I wasn’t forced to do anything.”

Her eyes widened for a moment, her glare softening slightly to one of surprise. Ambessa was taken back a little by your answer, clearly surprised by the revelation that you weren’t entirely forced to work at the brothel, that you permitted yourself to be treated like that. 

"You weren’t… forced? You… did it of your own will?" She spoke that question with an almost dumbfounded, surprised tone. “I am a desperate woman, ma’am. I walked into that brothel out of my own will.”

That realization further widened her eyes, she stared at you for a few more moments with her wide open eye, her expression now becoming a mixture of surprise and vexation, even confusion.

She had clearly underestimated exactly how desperate you were.

Ambessa leaned back slightly, her eyes now darting between your thighs and your stomach again, as if she couldn’t figure out exactly how to feel about this.  “You went in on your own? Simply to make money?"

“I was on the verge of death if I didn’t get paid-“ you quickly got defensive, hands clenching into fists at your lap. Your eyebrows furrowed, not enjoying the judgement that radiated off of her.

Her eyes widened again after hearing that.  Ambessa was taken back again, and surprised once more, but more than that, she was… pitying you.

The powerful, warlord of Noxus, pitying you.

Her glare softened even more and her expression slowly changed to one of a somewhat insight and pitiful one. "Was that the only option you had?”

You shake your head quicky, “Gosh, no.” You squeezed your eyes shut fora moment, all emotions rushing through you. “I had other options, all over Zaun.”

Desperate, yes, that would be the best word to describe you.

Ambessa’s eyes narrowed slightly as that thought crossed her mind. “You had other options." She repeated that part while looking you over again, her hand still gently caressing your thighs.

“And you chose to do that instead?” she emphasized, referring to your previous line of work as if it were horrifying. “I know,” you replied, aware of the lack of self-respect and dignity you had allowed yourself to acquire by letting anyone treat you however they pleased.

Her hand gripped your thigh firmly again when you said that, her eyes narrowed even further. "Why?" Ambessa asked that single word in a firm, curious tone, wanting to know the exact reason behind your choice.

She gave you a chance to explain yourself but you knew it would be in vain. “It was the quickest way. a few clients in one day, letting them do anything, i'd earn not a lot, but more than enough to live.”

That answer left her with a bitter taste in her mouth, almost sickened. Ambessa’s hand tightened again around your thigh as she let your answer sink in, she looked at you with a more serious and judging expression. ".... and that’s what you did? Every day?"

She never had to experience being in that spot. Sure, she’s requested brothel workers before, but only from the finest of places. “Yes,” you replied simply.

Once again, her eyes widened when you answered in a blank and firm tone, confirming her question. That disclosure only made her feel more pity for you, but that was mingled with a hint of contempt and disruption as well. 

She looked over your scarred body again and just couldn’t help but look at your thighs in particular. “Does this make you think any less of me yet?” you said, humor in your voice.

Ambessa’s hand squeezed your thigh again when you said that, almost in a gentle, yet firm way. "Yes, you’re used and.. pathetic.” She almost spat those words at you, her expression becoming more stern and serious, almost cruel and judgmental.

"But I don’t feel any less of you, little one." Ambessa spoke in a lower, softer but firm tone, her free hand lightly stroking the part of your thighs without scars, and her grip still tight.

“I never imagined you’d be the one to spare me humiliation, Miss Medarda,” you said with a scoff. “I’ve gone through enough of it, no need to hide it from me.” your eyes rolled as you finished your sentence, feeling infantilized.

Her hand moved from your stomach up to cup your cheek, she gently but firmly gripped your face and forced you to look directly at her as she spoke. “Why would I admit that I feel less of you even though you’ve been exploited?”

Ambessa’s tone still held that firm and authoritative quality in it, but there was an element of gentleness to it as well. "Just because you allowed it to happen doesn’t mean you deserved it. You do not deserve that disgrace."

You despised how she spared you her wrath, the way she sympathized. The sweetness is her tone was little but sickening, you hated the pity.

“Forgive me,” you spoke quickly. Silence diverged in the small space between you and her.

“Tell me dear, have you ever been given what you wanted?” she tured back around in the bath, motioning her hand for you to continue the massage. Your hands resumed their movement.

Doubt began to surface within you, uncertain of how to react to her. “No, ma’am,” you ultimately said.

“Have you ever wanted much?” She kept questioning and this time you nodded, “Yes ma’am.”

“Can I give it to you?”

She had laid you down on her bed, her body still damp from the recent bath. She hadn’t put her clothes on yet, the water drop falling onto your uniform. Your lips were parted in a level of suprise unmatched.

“Miss Medarda-“ You began but she cut you off, a hand on your chin roughly. She held your chin there to make sure that you kept eye contact with her. “Are you nervous, dearest?” she said, teasing, almost mocking.

She brought her hand away from your chin and placed two fingers on your pulse. She counted silently. "Think you are." She leaned down to whisper that, her knee finding its way between your thighs.

"Do you want me to take off..this?" her finger toyed with the white apron tied around your uniform. She cocked a brow once you nodded.

"Words.." she dragged, tracing the finger down her body.

"Yes, miss medarda.." your breathed out, eyes shutting.

Carefully, she undid the apron, throwing it someplace on your luxurious floor. But still the fabric of the uniform covered your body, held her back from what she wanted.

"Miss medarda.. take it off.." she chuckled at your words, at the way your vision narrowed towards her. The desperation in your gaze.

"Needy little one, hm?" She began unbuttoning the back of the dress, her arms encircling you.

"Ambessa. Say it." Ambessa asked of you, waiting for her to name to slip off your tongue.

"Ambessa.." you spoke the moment she threw the dress on the floor. All you now had on was a bralette and lace panties.

She traced your panties and the waistband, then cupping one of your breast with her hand.

"Should I remove these barriers, too?" She asked, knowing the answer already.

She enjoyed seeing you submit to your pleasure, also knowing this would be one of the first times you'd do that.

"Yes, yes please, Ambessa." you were just oh so well-mannered. She loved hearing you plead, hearing you be so respectful and ready for her.

She slid the bralette off, then meticulously the panties. She watched as you huffed and whined. "Can.. can I touch you, Ambessa?" you asked sweetly, a pathetic and doe-eyed expression painted on your features.

She nearly let out a cackle, a dark smile graced her lips. She brought a hand to graze your bottom lip and then your forehead. "Sure, dearest."

You immediately clinged to her, needing to remove any article of clothing. "So impatient.." she chuckled and removed you small hand.

The difference between your hands brought a spark straight to your clit, she could hold both of yours in one of hers.

She made it easier for you, removing her shirt and pants as she kneeled on the bed. You layed down, spread out for her.

She was left in panties only, no bra, just her panties.

She came back to her original spot, cupping your tit with her big hand, squeezing and stroking it.

She was far from gentle yet it seemed so tender through your perspective, much more gentle then anybody at the brothel.

She slowly brought her mouth closer to the other breast, staring at you through her lashes before beginning to suck on your nipple. Slowly, and gently latching onto it.

She suckled, eyes closed and pleased. Her hand left your other breast, traveling down to your cunt.

With no ounce of patience, she entered one thick finger into your slick cunt. A moan left your mouth, arching your back which caused your breast to go further into her mouth.

Did i mention she had rather large hands?

She started curling it, pressing down onto your g-spot. Your spongy walls squeezed around her finger, making wet and sloppy noises she's never heard before.

She laughed darkly onto your tit and then let it go with a "pop" noise.

She looked at you, the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head in pleasure. "Feel nice, dearest?"

You nodded, whine and whimpers coming from the utter depths of your chest. Remembering her command to use words and not gestures, you spoke. "Yes.. so- so good.."

With that, she entered another digit into your sopping cunt. You were just being so damn good and obedient for her, she had to make you feel good.

Her fingers pumped in and out of you at a pace you've never felt before, squirming endlessly. She held you down with one arm, stopping your squirming.

"I-I'm so close.." Your words echoed through her mind and she smirked.

"Stay silent." She said firmly, bringing her breast to your mouth as she kept her extended arm fingering you deeply.

You moaned on it, basically feeding on your tit. You were so close, just about to be pushed over the edge.

"Cum, dearest." she spoke in a sultry tone, causing you to come undone, squirting on her hand.

She helped you ride your high, pressing into your velvety spot multiple times till you backed away.

Your fluids coated her fingers and she didn't hesitate to clean them with her tongue. She smothered the liquid on her lips and then the rest into her mouth.

You reached up for her, needing some sense of closure. Your hand tangled into her hair. "K..kiss-" you said softly.

"What's that, dear? Do you wish for a kiss?" She teased, her clean hand touching your cheek gently.

A nod from you was enough to make her kiss you, not even a single word needed.

She asserted dominance in the kiss quickly, exploring your mouth with her tongue. Even if she expected patience from others, she was not a patient woman.

It was a passionate kiss, leaving you pushing on her chest with a small palm, desperate for air.

She broke the kiss with a string of saliva connecting your tongues. You breathed with your tongue resting slightly outside your mouth.

You tugged at her panties, needing them off, needing to please her.

She made you feel so good, how could you now return the favor?

She did as you asked and took off her own panties the kneeling on the bed. You knew what she wanted and you were prepared to serve it to her on a sliver platter.

She lowered her pussy onto your face, the wet mess of arousal on your lips and nose. "Eat, dearest." She demanded, a smile on her lips as her hands founds the headboard.

You nodded, a muffled "Yes ma'am" as you began to suck on her clit. She had a bush above her pussy, tickling your face but you didn't care, it just made you more needy.

You ate her like some sort of candy, starving for something to eat.

It was messy, sloppy, uncalled for. She moved one hand to grip your hair. She bucked her hips against your face, her clit getting friction against your nose.

She came on your face quickly, savoring the moment.

Collapsing besides you, she held your arm. Both of you panted, breathing heavily in inexplicable pleasure.

"Think you're the one that requires a shower now." she spoke, a breathy laugh at the back of her throat.

You whined, a "hngh" leaving your lips. Turning your body and resting it on top of hers.

Wasn't that a nice mother's day gift?

[eatmyheartoutjpg]

𓇻 𝗖𝗟𝗔𝗜𝗠 ᵃᵐᵇᵉˢˢᵃ ᵐᵉᵈᵃʳᵈᵃ ˣ ᵍⁿ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

Spin off/continuation of: Jealous Conscience

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ;; Short fic. Romantic/Established Relationship. Ambessa is not a jealous woman. She knows where your loyalty lies, but she does feel the need to show you belong to her. 𝘼/𝙉 ;; Her being jealous? Of course I HAD to write more about it.

11.27.24 Masterlist

The room was lavish, a mixture of Piltover and Noxian pride. Silk drapes fluttered lightly in the breeze, and the golden light of dusk poured in through tall windows, casting everything in hues of gold and amber.

You stood before a large mirror, adjusting the heavy necklace Ambessa had placed around your neck earlier. Its gold links were thick, crafted with unmistakable Noxian artistry, and the emblem of her house gleamed at its center.

It was impossible to ignore the weight of it—both the physical heft and the meaning behind it.

“You’re fidgeting,” came her voice, rich and commanding, as she stepped into the room. You saw her appear behind you in the mirror.

Ambessa Medarda, clad in her usual armor of confidence and finely tailored military ornaments, strode toward you.

The room seemed to shrink under her presence, the air thickening with her energy. She moved with the precision of a general and the allure of someone who knew what kind of authority they wielded.

“I’m not used to this,” you admitted, meeting her gaze through the mirror. “It’s… heavy.” Your fingers lightly graced the gold, as if worried they'd break under fragile touch.

Her lips quirked into a knowing smile as she approached, standing behind you. Her hands, calloused from years of wielding blades and commanding armies, came to rest on your shoulders. Despite their roughness, her touch was oddly gentle.

“It’s meant to be,” she said. “Gold has weight, as does loyalty.”

Her eyes flicked to the necklace, her reflection towering over yours. Her fingers brushed the chain lightly, almost possessively, before sliding down to your collarbone.

“I don’t expect you to wear it lightly. I expect you to wear it proudly,” she added, her voice dropping to a near growl.

You turned to face her, tilting your head slightly. “You know I’m loyal to you, Ambessa. You don’t have to… cover me like this.”

Her laugh was low and rumbling, filling the room. “Oh, but I do.” She took a step closer, her hand trailing from your collarbone to your waist, where she tugged at the edge of the crimson cape draped around your shoulders. “It’s not about need. It’s about choice. My choice to show everyone exactly who you belong to.”

The cape was unmistakable—Noxian red, heavy with embroidered patterns that mimicked the war banners of her homeland. It was hers, and by wearing it, you became an extension of her power. Her territory. Her pride.

“You don’t strike me as a jealous woman,” you teased, a small smile playing on your lips.

“I’m not,” she countered quickly, her eyes narrowing slightly. “I know where your loyalty lies. You’ve proven it time and again.” She leaned in, her breath warm against your ear as she whispered, “But that doesn’t mean I won’t remind the world of it.”

Her words sent a shiver down your spine, and your pulse quickened. She was right—Ambessa Medarda didn’t need to be jealous. She was a force of nature, a woman who took what she wanted and made it her own. Her confidence was unshakable, her authority absolute. But her need to mark you wasn’t about insecurity. It was about dominance.

She pulled back slightly, her hand slipping under your chin to tilt your face upward, forcing you to meet her gaze. “Does it bother you?” she asked, her tone softer now, almost teasing. “Being draped in my gold, my colors, my signatures?”

You hesitated, though not because you were unsure. Rather, you wanted to savor the moment—the way her eyes studied you, the way her touch lingered, the way her presence filled every inch of the room.

“No,” you said finally, your voice steady. “It doesn’t bother me.”

“Good,” she said simply. Her thumb brushed against your jawline before she stepped back, her expression unreadable for a moment. Then, as if satisfied, she turned toward the small table near the window.

From it, she picked up a small vial of perfume. You recognized the scent immediately—spiced leather and sandalwood, a fragrance that clung to her skin like a second armor. She uncapped it, dabbing a small amount onto her fingers before stepping close to you again.

“Hold still,” she ordered, her voice a command and a promise.

You obeyed, standing motionless as she pressed the perfume into your pulse points—your wrists, your neck, just behind your ears. The scent enveloped you, unmistakably hers. It was a mark more intimate than the gold or the cape, one that would cling to you long after she was gone.

“There,” she said, her lips curving into a satisfied smirk. “Now, no one will question who you belong to.”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge in your expression. “And what if I wanted to mark you?”

Ambessa chuckled, a deep, resonant sound. “You already have,” she said, her voice softer now. “But the difference is, I wear your mark here.” She tapped two fingers against her chest, just over her heart,

ˢᵉᵛᵉⁿ

[chronicsyd]

ok I KNOW I'm spam posting at this point and I don't mean to but can we talk about the Ingeniousness of the "Appointing a General" scene and how Ambessa essentially cornered Caitlyn into this role?

Because despite what people are saying, Caitlyn did not skip up there like "Ohh power! Awesome! Gimme!", this is a decision that she was Forced to make (unlike if the role was given to say, Salo, because he was already starting to lift himself up, ready for Ambessa to give him his glory. He Wants power, he Craves it).

And you can see it from the Moment Ambessa calls out her name. The first emotion to appear is shock, clearly she wasn't expecting her name to be brought up. Wide eyed, she can see these families that Have Influence (because that's who Ambessa Specifically told Salo to bring) start to nod in approval, because like Salo said, the Kiramman name bewitches people, that's All it takes to get them to agree. She's taking rapid breaths as Ambessa and the Noxian soldiers start to pound their chests, her eyes are shaking, almost like she's about to have an anxiety attack with having the spotlight thrust upon her in such a way. She looks down, almost as if trying to ground herself.

But then she notices Maddie on her right, pounding her chest as well, smiling up at her. Which in turn, causes her fellow Enforcers to nod and start pounding their chests as well. Everyone Else in the room (with the exception of Salo) Wants this from her, they Expect her to "make the right choice", and it's at that point where saying "no" is no longer an option for her, not with the crisis they're dealing with, But more importantly, not with the Status of her Name. And she looks back up at Ambessa, making eye contact again. That's when she tells Caitlyn to "come, child."

In the way you watch Caitlyn walk up to her, her face is completely numb. she's not walking up there with a smile, her face shows almost no emotion at all. and when Ambessa leans in to swear her mother justice, she simply wears a blank stare, there's no look of anger or determination or anything, I'd say it looks like she's disassociating. what's also interesting is after Ambessa's done speaking and Caitlyn turns back around, there's no sound. the Enforcers and Noxian soldier's are still pounding their chests, you can see it, but you can't hear it, which as someone who disassociates a lot from anxiety is exactly what happens when you’re that overwhelmed. It remains silent as Caitlyn raises out her hand, Ambessa watching in anticipation, before the final sound is Caitlyn hitting her own chest, the wind whistling quietly behind her. but one thing to also bring up is specifically When she turns around, because her face does change, and that's apart of her looking like she's holding herself together that we've seen from her throughout the Entirety of this act. looking like she isn't bothered by this, that she's willing to accept this new responsibility placed on her shoulders. compare that to the look she was Just wearing, that face says more "resigned to my fate", she isn't being given a choice here, not really.

This entire thing is an internal struggle for her. Because yes, she still craves revenge against Jinx, but is THIS really the way she wants to go about it? Because despite what Caitlyn's done herself, she hasn't been thrown an Army and been Expected to lead a War against Zaun, this is entirely new territory that she's walking into. And now, she's no longer allowed to back down.

Ambessa using peer presser to get Caitlyn to do what she wants, what a Genius. and what an ASSHOLE (yes I’m pissed at Ambessa and can’t Wait for Caitlyn to rain hellfire down on her once she realizes what she’s pulled).

[viridian-fields]

I've been doing a lot of thinking about this theory that Caitlyn gave up her council seat to Sevika. This idea is based on the following:

Sevika now occupies the seat that Cassandra used to sit in

Certain council seats are inherited

Caitlyn used her influence to put Sevika in the Kiramman seat

I'd like to posit an alternative theory.

There's no question that Sevika now sits in Cassandra's old seat, so I'll simply acknowledge that and move on to the second point.

Certain council seats are inherited

I can understand why people make this assumption, but for me it remains uncertain. My primary disillusionment with this idea comes from Salo and his reactions to Caitlyn being present at council meetings after Cassandra's death.

Here Mel replies that Caitlyn is a witness who can provide valuable information. She doesn’t say Caitlyn is entitled to be there.

Cait doesn't claim that she has a right to be on the council, but asserts her authority as an officer. She uses her family name, sure, but neither she nor anyone else mentions any pending appointment to a council seat.

If the council seat is Cait's birthright why would Salo challenge her like this?

We don't get a lot of time with Caitlyn and her parents, but they never mention Caitlyn's future as a councillor. Cassandra says only "You're a councillor's daughter, your actions reflect on the entire body".

So what do we actually know about how council seats are assigned? We know that the council can add or remove members by unanimous vote (Jayce and Heimerdinger). We know that Mel is a Noxian who likely did not inherit her seat as her family isn't from Piltover. We also know that the council always had seven members before Jayce. Which makes me wonder - whose seat did Mel take over? Why wasn't that seat passed on to that councillor's heir if the seats stay in certain families?

I spent some time analysing what I could about the other new council members at the end of s2 - and I can't rule out that at least some of them could be heirs or house/clan members of the deceased councillors. Certainly Bolbok's seat seems to have passed to another of his kind, and the new occupant of Hoskel's seat could be a relation based on looks and clothing style. Unfortunately we do not get a look at the new owner of Salo's seat. However there are at least two vacant seats that are not hereditary (Mel's and Jayce's) so if Caitlyn did inherit a seat there would be no implicit need for her to give it up since there were so many other vacancies. There is also Heimerdinger's 8th (non-hereditary) seat which remains unoccupied.

So are these seats inherited or are they just generally appointed to members of influential houses, hence there being some semblance of continuity? I can't say for sure.

I do think that Caitlyn not being on the council is her own decision though, whether she gave up an inherited seat or declined to be considered for one when new councillors were being appointed.

Which brings us to my second nitpick about this theory…

Caitlyn used her influence to put Sevika in the Kiramman seat

Caitlyn knows that Sevika was Silco's right hand. She watched Sevika grievously wound and attempt to kill Vi. She had a brutal fight against her when she and Vi went after Jinx. She may have heard from Vi of Sevika's betrayal of Vander years earlier. Caitlyn has never seen any other side to Sevika. If Caitlyn were choosing a Zaunite for the council it would not have been Sevika. It would've been Ekko.

Ekko had built a haven for refugees and a competent resistance force against Silco, was a trusted community leader, and - like Sevika - had come to Piltover's defence during the battle against the Noxians and Viktor. To Cait, he would've appeared reasonable and compassionate compared to Silco and Sevika's ruthlessness and cruelty. She saw that Ekko had a desire to enact positive change in the undercity and had demonstrated a willingness to compromise and work with Cait and Piltover to do so. Sevika tried to kill Caitlyn and Vi. Ekko saved their lives.

So what actually happened after Caitlyn ended martial law and reformed the council? Apart from declining a seat for herself, I think she pushed for Zaun to be given a seat at the table, and then deferred to Zaunites to choose their own representative. Ekko either didn't want it, or didn't have the influence to win out over Sevika. I imagine Sevika being present and a leader of the Zaunite resistance movement for the months that Ekko had been zapped to a different timeline would've made the difference there. And perhaps Zaunites preferred Sevika because she is strong, ruthless and uncompromising. Who better to defend you and safeguard your interests against the untrustworthy Pilties?

tldr

It's unclear whether Caitlyn was entitled to a council seat and gave it up, or if she simply declined to be considered for one.

She likely was instrumental in advocating for Zaunites having a seat at the table

…but Sevika would not have been her choice. Sevika being there is the will of Zaun. Not Caitlyn.

Thoughts?

[kororobus]

people who write beautiful thoughtful stories about characters who appeared on screen for three seconds are my favorite kind of people <з

sketch comm with Margot (in her real age without the valves tightened) and Maddie (as a Noxian spy) for a really cool fanfiction you can read the story here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/60858205/chapters/155446486

[ohnoitstbskyen]

Since Riot Forge has been offed by management, what other characters and storylines would you want a game about?

Honestly, not even necessarily champions. You know what would be cool? An honest to god Stardew Valley style farm simulator where you're, like, trying to run a farm in the Demacian hinterlands. All the usual mechanics: growing crops, mining, crafting, maybe some light combat, lots of dateable NPCs, your grandad's ghost appears and judges you if you haven't gotten laid by the end of year 4, all the usual normal stuff.

But then also there's a mage or two who lives in town, one of the villagers who helps you out, that hot NPC you're trying to date. Maybe the kid you'll eventually have with your spouse could be a mage. And the Mageseekers come around every few years looking, and asking questions, and taking people away from your community, and you need to make some decisions about what you're going to do about that. Do you sell your fellow villagers out to the authorities, in return for rewards, or do you find a way to resist?

Like, that kind of a thing. Or a 4x or Total War style game where you play as a Noxian commander trying to expand and colonize the Valoran continent, pushing against the borders of Demacia and the Freljord. Crusader Kings-like set in Shurima where Azir is trying to unite his new empire.

Heartless Frostpunk-style management game where your goal is to help your Freljord tribe survive an especially harsh winter. Tavern management game set in Bilgewater where you're trying not to run afoul of pirate gang politics. Visual novel where you play as a tormented soul on the Shadow Isles trying to escape from Ruination by finding the Hallowed Mist manor from Legends of Runeterra.

This is one of the things that frustrated me about Forge, that it was still stuck in this "THE LEAGUE OF LEGENDS CHAMPIONS ARE THE MOST IMPORTANT PART OF OUR UNIVERSE!" framework that League of Legends itself is stuck to, rather than trying to profile and expand the universe itself as an interesting setting that people might love all on its own, the way people love Middle Earth whether or not Aragorn happens to be there, or the Star Trek universe regardless of who's captaining the Enterprise that day.

Oh, also, dating sim set in Piltover and Zaun where none of the dateable options is a champion, but every playthrough, one of them is randomly selected to actually be Evelynn in disguise, and if you can't see through her act in time, she kills you in agonizing (horny) ways.

[imhereforthelesbianstuff]

A little scene (very quick, sorry for possible mistakes) in between the battle with Ambessa and Vander, and Vi waking up in Caitlyn's bed. I just can't take this off of my mind. (Translation by ChatGPT)

The smoke was beginning to dissipate, and above the ringing in her ears, Caitlyn could start to hear a voice. No, shouts. And when she finally managed to understand what the shouts were saying, panic washed over her.

"Vi! Vi! Wake up!" Jinx screamed, shaking her sister with one hand, the other gripping one of the Noxian warrior weapons, keeping the arriving enforcers at bay.

Caitlyn remembered it clearly—she had been carrying Vi, but she had slipped away. She had run to stop her sister from jumping into the battle to save that little girl. She had protected Jinx from the explosion with her own body.

Cait rose as fast as she could, still dazed from the explosion, running toward Vi, giving orders with a simple gesture for her men to lower their weapons and step back. She threw herself on top of Vi, replacing Jinx's screams with her own. Jayce appeared behind her, and Caitlyn didn’t care where from. He was urging her to leave, but she wasn’t going to leave Vi behind.

Jinx grabbed her by the shoulders forcefully. "Save her! She matters to you, right? Save her." Part of Caitlyn’s dazed brain was shocked by what was in front of her: barely a girl with a face streaked with tears, begging her to save her sister. Could this really be the same person she’d hated? Jinx shoved her shoulder hard, turning back toward Vi’s lifeless body. "Do something, come on! She cares about you. She... Do you love her?" Jinx’s gaze was so intense that Caitlyn had to step back a few inches. "Save her." And finally, Caitlyn seemed to snap back to reality. She saw Loris among her men, staring at Vi in horror.

"Loris, help me, she needs to see a doctor." The man nodded, determined, and approached to lift Vi into his arms. They couldn’t go back to camp; this was Ambessa’s territory. Behind them, Caitlyn heard shouting and a scuffle—her men had captured Jinx, who was simply following Vi with her gaze, offering no resistance. Caitlyn raised a hand toward her, unsure of what order to give. Let her go? Handcuff her?

"Commander, are you coming?" Loris shouted, moving as fast as he could with Vi. And Caitlyn didn’t hesitate any longer; she went with him.

"We should take her to a hospital," Jayce said, still with her, though it was clear he, too, needed one.

"No," Caitlyn’s reply was curt. Ambessa would have easy access to a hospital, though the real reason was that Caitlyn didn’t want to lose sight of Vi again. If she woke up in a hospital, she was sure Vi would leave, and she wasn’t sure if she’d ever see her again. She didn’t want to face that thought right now.

She guided Loris and a small group to her own house, taking her companion through hallways toward her bedroom. She wouldn’t feel safe with Vi anywhere else.

In one of those hallways, they crossed paths with Maddie, who was surely there as part of the guard left to watch the house, keeping her father safe.

"Caitl..." She couldn’t even finish the sentence. Caitlyn passed her by without looking at her, not even acknowledging her presence, with deep concern on her face.

"Vi’s injured," Loris explained quickly, carrying the unconscious bundle in his arms.

"Vi?" was all the young woman could say, completely confused. As far as she knew, Vi had left the platoon after an altercation with Caitlyn. Why was she unconscious in her house now? And why did Caitlyn have that desperate look on her face?

As soon as they reached Caitlyn’s room, she pointed to the bed, giving orders to clear the area and call for a doctor. She was left alone in the room with Loris.

"Is she going to...?" Loris couldn’t finish the question.

"She’ll be fine. You don’t know her like I do; she’s tough, she can handle this," Caitlyn cut him off sharply, leaning over Vi. She pulled off the jacket someone had placed on her, which was hastily pressed against the wound on her side, tearing a piece of sheet to press it clean. She started removing the makeshift bandages from her torso, now soaked in blood and ashes, but when she reached her chest, she couldn’t help but pause. Loris turned around, but it wasn’t for him—Caitlyn felt as though she was invading something very intimate of Vi’s, something she longed to know, but only if Vi wanted to share it. Of course, her life was in danger. She left the bandage as it was and focused on cleaning the exposed wound, just as a doctor arrived. Caitlyn stepped back immediately, staying just a few steps behind the doctor, watching every move with desperation.

Maddie was at the door, still not understanding anything. Was she even friends with Vi? Caitlyn had never been this worried about her, this terrified. At that moment, it seemed like Caitlyn’s sanity depended entirely on Vi surviving.

Another doctor had to join them. Hours passed, and Caitlyn could feel her body trembling from the panic. She hadn’t even sat down, always a few steps behind the doctors, making sure Vi’s chest still rose and fell, that she was still breathing. One of the doctors suggested taking her to the hospital, but Caitlyn refused again. They were going to save her, and they were going to save her there.

After many hours, three exhausted doctors left the room, leaving behind a weakened but stable Vi. Caitlyn thanked them as neutrally as she could, but as soon as they closed the door behind them, she couldn’t stop herself from collapsing to her knees beside the bed, letting out all the tears from hours of tension and worry. Days and weeks of guilt. She took Vi’s hand in hers, bringing it to her cheek, unable to stop crying.

By the time Jayce entered the room, Caitlyn was lying on the bed, her back propped up against the headboard, her gaze fixed on Vi, watching her breath. She had changed the bloodstained sheets with Loris’s help, and Caitlyn had carefully put a shirt on Vi, handling her injuries with the utmost care. She had even washed her hair gently, slowly, so as not to hurt her, almost ritually, until it regained the red Caitlyn had first known her with.

"How is she?" Jayce asked, moving closer to the bed. He, too, seemed to be in better condition.

"She’ll live," Caitlyn didn’t even look away from Vi to answer, her gaze so intense that Jayce almost felt uncomfortable. He had his suspicions about Caitlyn’s feelings for Vi from the moment she had brought her into the council room, but when Vi disappeared, he hadn’t thought for a second about how his friend might feel. Caitlyn had seemed fine. Now, he realized how wrong he had been.

"We need you in the council. We both know Ambessa will come for you, and for all of Piltover."

"I know," Caitlyn didn’t move an inch.

"She’s fine, Cait."

"I know."

"And she’ll stay fine." Caitlyn didn’t respond, only reached out a hand toward the mattress, closer to Vi, but not touching her.

"She’s not going anywhere, Cait."

Caitlyn furrowed her brow for just a second, as if she wasn’t so sure of that.

"How close is Ambessa?"

"No trace of her yet."

"Then this can wait."

"Cait, I don’t think—"

"Can you call Loris?" She cut her friend off. "There’s something that can’t wait."

Caitlyn walked slowly toward the cell, the sound of her footsteps the only noise on the cold floor. The girl inside the cell didn't move, curled up in a corner, long blue locks surrounding her. The explosion had barely touched her, thanks to the shield that had been Vi.

"Vi's fine, she's alive. And stable," Caitlyn had come here just to say that, not intending to stay any longer. She felt she owed it to Vi, even to Jinx, who had saved her life. The only thing that worried her was that they would save her sister’s. She had come to tell her that Vi was fine before returning to her side; she didn't want Vi to wake up without her.

"Thank you," was all Jinx responded, her only movement being the slump of her shoulders, as if she had just let go of a heavy weight. Caitlyn turned to leave.

"Who was the girl?" There was no response from Jinx. She only buried her face deeper into her arms.

"I'm sorry," Caitlyn murmured before walking away.

She stayed lying next to Vi, barely moving, even when a doctor came to check her condition. Caitlyn was always there, on the other side of the bed, watching over her, taking care of her.

"Caitlyn?" The door opened suddenly, and there was Maddie, looking at her with confusion written all over her face. She looked first at Caitlyn, lying beside Vi, staring at her, then at Vi, still unconscious in a bed where not long ago, it had been Maddie. And then back to Caitlyn, who was now glaring at her, annoyed by the interruption.

"Well?" The Commander asked when Maddie couldn’t find her voice.

"The first Noxian ships have appeared." Caitlyn sighed and looked back at Vi, who was breathing normally, though still unconscious.

"How close are they?" She certainly wasn't going to leave here unless it was absolutely necessary. Maddie noticed this, frowning.

"The landing is imminent." She stood there, glaring at Caitlyn, who was now gazing at Vi’s face with a tenderness Maddie had never seen before. Caitlyn was about to tell her to leave, to go warn her when they were near the shores. Clearly, she didn’t want to move from here.

"Commander, we need to prepare for battle," Maddie pressed, planting herself firmly in place, as if refusing to leave without her.

Caitlyn let her head drop with a sigh of resignation, her fingers lightly brushing the back of Vi’s hand.

"I know. Wait for me in my study, I’ll be there soon."

Maddie didn’t move from the door, jealousy written in the way she looked at Vi.

"Officer Nolen, wait for me in the study for instructions," Caitlyn said authoritatively, slightly leaning over Vi, as if trying to protect her from the venom in Maddie’s gaze, who finally started to withdraw.

"And tell Loris if he can come, I don’t want her waking up alone." Maddie nodded curtly, closing the door behind her.

Caitlyn lay back down on the bed, her cheek resting on Vi’s shoulder, holding her hand.

"I'm sorry I can't be here when you wake up." Footsteps approached the door, probably Loris. Caitlyn left a simple kiss on Vi's cheek, close to her lips. "Don't hate me."

By the time Loris entered the room, the Commander was already standing by the bed, giving him some instructions before she left the room.

[demacianpuppet]

Some more thoughts/observation regarding Viktor and whatever he had going on his cult because I'm obsessed.

First of all, what exactly was Salo doing there? He went to the power source of the Hex Gates to get some (raw) Hextech crystals I assume but this leave me with more questions than answers.

For what exactly did Viktor need the crystals?

I would assume stealing from the source, which is locked behind a specific key (which seem to only open with Hextech) makes it easier do than from higher up of the Hex Gates. Considering Viktor's followers are just an extension from Viktor himself, they have the easiest option to sneak into it.

Also, Salo wears no protection gear, something that the people who maintain the Hextech Gate clearly do as seen in Season 1.

One detail I didn't catch while watching the first time is that the discussion between Jayce and Viktor happens in the Wild Rune and also seems to be Viktor who frees Jayce from it.

(Maybe Viktor knew something about Jayce being trapped in the Wild Rune which would explain why only Jayce materialized when Salo appeared and Heimerdinger and Ekko are still missing.)

So more interesting details - first of all Salo wasn't breathing the whole dialogue. You can see how Jayce breath condensed in the Hex Gates while Salo's never did. It also lines up that Jayce saw some empty husk creature whenever he looked at Viktor's followers.

Not consider how creepy the whole scene was because we see Salo is absolutely not acting like Salo, constantly switching to being possessed by Viktor.

Also, when Jayce dispose of the empty husk that once Salo was, the blood is not just red but also prismatic. His body has been also fundamentally changed from the inside.

Also Viktor doesn't seen to really care that Jayce just killed someone? Like sure, he is worried for Jayce and mentioned that someone is in his head but she shows no pity for Salo who just got killed?

I continue that none of the Viktor's followers actually acted like normal human being. Like Huck showed no sign of fear when the Noxian appear with their weapon, nor do any other people reacted with fear when Jayce appears with his weapon in his hand and clearly not best mental state.

As someone else already pointed out, you don't see anyone doing anything but to work. No children playing, no people talking with each other. Again, not human, not normal.

Whenever Viktor touched someone and tries to heal them, you can see how he left his fingerprints on them. (Vander/Warwick has them as well.)

Interesting Viktor could spot Jayce mental state without touching him, makes me wonder how close he needs to be to a person. Maybe Jayce is a special case because they both are touched by the Arcane?

When Singed talked with Viktor, Singed touched Vikor's hand and he instantly glimpsed into Singed mind. It seems to be not even an active thing he does.

(Does it mean back then Jayce hugged him after he just woke up from his metamorphosis did he already had seen the weapons Jayce had crafted during that time in his mind?)

Interesting that Singed mentioned that Viktor grows weaker, you would assume whatever the Hexcore does should be like a virus, so more people would make it stronger and not weaker.

Was this the reason why Viktor wanted the Hextech Crystals? To make a new Hexcore to replace his failing energy source? So many question, no answers.

Also what exactly was Viktor doing when he was levitating while being connected via strings to something? Did the writers just need a reason why Viktor would not try fight back when Jayce appeared? Did he was ready to face the possibility that Jayce could actually do harm to him?

Jayce goes into the room, does the shot and refusing to even look when he was firing it. There is one frame there you can see mirror version of Jayce reading the shot, it makes me wonder how often he went to Viktor and tried to change the outcome.

Jayce also left immediately once the deed was done. While Jayce was clearly tearing up, he ran way instantly.

Viktor just watched Jayce do the shot, fear in his eyes and he couldn't stop staring at him until his last breath was leaving him. The cog (which is not the same one during Hextech breakthrough) rolled away from his hand.

We know that Viktor ends the episode with his monologue how emotions are problem but I wonder if he knew that would happened and a part of him (or the Hexcore) becked Jayce to do the shot so he finally could get rid of his heart and/or influence of the Hexcore for good.

Because in Viktor's mindscape Viktor behaved like he always did while in reality he is very emotionalless despite everything.

Also going back to the hive mind thing - their life energy was clearly connected to the Hexcore which was the reason why they all started dying when the Hexcore was destroyed.

Despite Jayce ruining everything according the fans, I don't think Viktor would have stayed alive much longer anyway with Ambessa and Singed near. I wonder if this was the best-case scenario so that they would not get the Hexcore in their hands or if Jayce basically did a self-fulfilling prophecy with this action.

[rxally-borxng]

A little reimagine - fix it of some events from Arcane Season 2 Act 2...

Because imagine if Caitlyn was planning to betray Ambessa with her Enfocers BEFORE the Noxian army would start attacking Viktor's sanctuary. And then, Vi appears and she's perfect to get rid of Ambessa (at least, until her soldiers are defeated); but Vi wants to save her father, so Caitlyn tells her she would take care of that.

But why Vi would be a perfect distraction for Ambessa? Because Ambessa is fucking tired of watching Caitlyn distracted: she's trying to teach her Noxian figthing styles, but Caitlyn keeps copying Vi's boxing stances; she's telling her how she needs to present herself before others as a Commander, but Caitlyn keeps wearing zaunite's clothes that "someone picked up for her" in private meetings; she's trying to set a mole, but Caitlyn is not interested in getting a relationship because "they're just not was she's into" (Sorry Maddie, it would hurt you less if you're just a one-night hook up)

So, in this context, everything keeps the same but now, when Warwick/Vander loses his mind, the Noxian and the Enforcers stop their fighting to get rid of the new threat (but it's over for their alliance), Ambessa got reasons to try to kill Vi and Caitlyn doesn't switch sides because "cupcake" is a magic word.

[1920sladydectective]

Hey i saw requests and had to ask, ambessa x reader for a wounded reader. I mean like a well executed plan goes to shit and Reade gets hurt much to ambessa's suprise. Passed and frustrated, ambessa traces readers old scars and stews on the new ones.

Hello my lovely! Thank you for your request! Very awesome and fun idea, I hope you like what I’ve done with it 🫶🫶🫶

I’m always happy to take them, especially with Ambessa if anyone is wondering! I shall try to get to them all.

This may not be quite what you wanted, I wrote it at half three in the morning and it’s a tad sillier than I’d intended. I’ll probably rewrite/add to it, but here it is for now!

Some mentions of blood etc - reader is hurt after all ❤️

Hurt Reader x Ambessa Drabble -

It was a shock, the warm slice sinking through your abdomen as a tall knight appeared.

This plan had been ridiculously simple and after ten years working under and loving Ambessa Medarda, you were notoriously difficult to surprise.

That being said, you were currently bleeding out as you stumbled away with the stupid bastard’s blood covering your front. You couldn’t let him live, but you did hope you didn’t die in the process.

Nearing the Noxian camp, you allowed yourself to cry out, spluttering slightly as everything blended into one.

Ambessa was discussing land division with Rictus, eagerly awaiting your return so you could retire to bed and then finally leave this back water hellhole.

Cries and clamouring had her dashing from her tent. You were there, unconscious, dragged along by shaking rookies.

The physician was already running to you, a loyal and efficient member of Ambessa’s staff, had it been anyone else her worries would have ended there.

She could tell all the blood was not yours, but it did nothing to dissuade the bile in her throat. This was impossible. This couldn’t be right. Part of her, foolish and soon to be carved out, had mistaken you for invincible. Despite the war wounds you wore as proudly as she wore her own, you were faster than her, always less risky. You were her sly fox, and the stab of fear she felt at you being caught made her snarl.

Hours seemed to drain into nothingness, her large hand stroking your serene face, muttering your favourite pet names and telling you stories. You had always hated the silence of rest, a feeling that only dissuaded with Ambessa. Her feelings were a muddle of thick, pulsing anger and desperation. Her fingers traced against the most faded of your marks, a melancholy filling her. Your story was mapped here, your journey with her visible in each gash and cut. It had seemed beautiful to her before. It still was, but as the cuts grew newer and fewer an uncharacteristic reservation filled her.

You were too precious to lose, and this had been your worst brush with death. The reason was inexcusably stupid, as Rictus had found out. A knight leaving his rotation slightly late because he was chatting up some maid, meant you’d been caught mere seconds before you would have fled. Ambessa felt hypocritical wanting to suddenly bundle you in furs and lock you in your chambers, but as she traced the crimson bandage on your midriff the plan seemed more and more plausible.

It took two days for you to wake and she never left your side. Murmuring all the while, her voice growing hoarse, Ambessa brushed your hair and ensured you stayed warm. The physician had said you would be fine and that she could benefit from some rest herself. Ambessa had nearly killed her, for some reason.

That, it seems, was what woke you.

“Do stop being stupid,” Your drug addled lips slurred, glassy eyes looking between the physician and your imposing wife, “She’s right, you look like shit,”

“Hello, Dear,” She muttered, dropping her blade and kneeling at your side.

“That was a tricky one, eh? What happened was-”

She let out a relieved sigh, kissing you tenderly on the lips, “We are not debriefing right now you fucking idiot,”

It took five months, eight hours of continual sex and a trip from Mel, but Ambessa finally seemed to mellow at the idea of you returning to her side in combat.

In the end you think it was your constant gasping and fawning at her own scars that did it.

Overreacting to your lover’s aged scars as if they were fresh was irritating apparently…

It was nice to know you were loved