#mel loves dawn

[fictionalabyss]

Sorry, things are going a little tough. I know how it is. You take care of yourself and Pat and those boys. That's what's important, not this little wild and crazy app. I'll miss you. I will be here when and if you come back. You can message me sometimes if you wish. SLD will always be my favorite, even though it's not complete, I'll complete it in my head. Love you Mel . Take care. Lots of hugs for you

yeahhhhh I'm not sure what my last update was in regards to all that was.. buuuuuuuut... we split. I went through therapy, realized what I needed and wouldn't compromise on it anymore. I am now working and have been since October. I am getting my life back on track in a way it hasn't been since I was 19. I am no longer bottom of my own list. I am doing self care, self love, and spending time with the people most important to me. Depression wise, this is the best I've been my entire adult life. I still have bad days, my panic disorder still can be very crippling, but I am finally GOOD.

@sorenmarie87 has been a HUGE part of that. Dawny has stuck by me through so much shit and i honestly can't thank them enough for it. Nothing I could ever do would be enough in my opinion. One of the best people to ever come into my life.

Other people have helped too, but ya'll don't know them :P

[meansevika]

❝ You gonna do anything about that piece of shit that murdered my boy? ❞

ARCANE (2021—2024)

[lovetusk]

Honey you said some dark shit there tonight...

Maybe you are spending too much time talking to me.....

The feel when you have to worry about your sunshine friend @lovetusk @littlehotmess26 @artemisthebadger

[melmedarda]

House/Clan Medarda's sigil my beloved.

[sallieraptor]

I didn't comment on arcane here so as not to stimulate my brain to fall into a brainrotting spiral and end up being interested in league of Iegends, buuut arcane is so good.

[blujayonthewing]

For the ask game, 1 and 29 for anybody you like (or all of 'em if you feel like it haha)

are they associated with a certain color? what color do they wear the most?

I strongly associate all my little guys with at least one color! Elyss is teal/ turquoise of course, like her skin, but also green/brown together, and the almost periwinkle-ish grey of her eyes; Idri is PURPLE, specifically a bright warm purple, or purple and yellow/ purple and gold together; Juniper is brown and pale cornflower blue; Aubree is brown, green, or green/yellow together; Nyssa is pink and spring green; Melliwyk is lavender, but also turquoise, cream, or that luna-moth sort of green I keep accenting her outfits in; Felix is dark red; Kethri is sky blue or orange/yellow together; Tsakesh is silver and blue; and Ambrose is dusky purple, or purple/ pink/ orange/ yellow together (sunset palette!). I don't talk much about Ambrose as a little-played and retired character but I love his palette so much he bears mentioning for the Colors Question, haha

A lot of these associations come directly from wardrobe palettes, but not all of them; Elyss is mostly wearing black and blue these days (her favorite color is deep blue!) and Juniper wears browns and undyed-beiges almost exclusively-- she HAS a blue dress, but she rarely has any chance to wear it. In 'real life' Idri definitely wears lots of different outfits in various jewel tones, but I almost only ever draw her in purple because [jazz hands] I'm a lazy artist and Cartoon Character Wardrobe is very easy, lol.

29. are they associated with any particular element (air, earth, fire, water)?

The gimme here of course is Elyss, my beloved water girl 😌💕 Weirdly I associate Juniper with air pretty strongly, for how earthy she actually is (and how much she hates both flying and heights??). No one else has any particularly strong actual association with any of the classical elements, but if you expand to DnD 'elements' Melliwyk and Elyss are both associated with lightning!

ask about my OCs :3

[lyricalchrysanthemum]

dawn morozova marketable plushie..............

AHAHAHA HOW ARE YOU THAT MARKETABLE

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Rest, My Darling

|| Ambessa Medarda x fem!reader

|| Warnings; reader's exhausted and lacking sleep, reader passes out, Ambessa worried for reader, Ambessa taking care of reader

|| Summary; when in a meeting, Ambessa hears something outside the door where reader was posted. What could have happened?

Requests closed!

Started; December 9th

Finished; December 9th

HurtCember2024; Day 9, Exhaustion

~~~

Exhaustion seeped through your body. Clouding your mind, your vision. You can't remember the last time you felt so weak. Ambessa had been in a meeting with the Council, going on about whatever it was she was talking about. You weren't sure. Even as her girlfriend she kept you in the dark on a lot of projects. Saying that you didn't need to worry about them and to let her handle things.

Of course, you listened without question. You always did. Ambessa loved your loyalty. It was one of the reasons she had fallen for you to begin with. She'd stationed you just outside the door, being her personal guard for the evening. You agreed without hesitation, having mot realized your growing exhaustion at the time. It's been a while since you'd had a good sleep. Often only managing to get no more than a couple hours before work called again. Seems your schedule was finally catching up to you.

"And then if we-" Ambessa stopped talking when she heard a clatter outside the door. The sound of a bunch of armour hitting the floor. Followed by a thud. What were you doing out there? Ambessa looked to the Council, who was watching her every movement. Having already been wary of her," just a moment."

She walked over to the door to check on you. Not knowing what she would find on the other side. Were you hurt? Alive? She didn't think you could be taken down so easily. So she held hope. Ambessa threw the door open, her eyes widening when she saw you. Unconscious on the floor. Her eyes quickly scanned the area for any threat or cause. When she realized there was none, Ambessa became confused. Before it dawned on her. Exhaustion.

Kneeling down next to you, Ambessa picked you up with ease. She could see the bags under your eyes. The pure tiredness etched into your face. She sighed, well she could always continue the meeting with the Council another time. You were her priority. Damn you, weakening her. You were her greatest weakness next to Mel. But at the same time, you made her all the more stronger. Giving her reasons to fight. Reasons to stay alive.

"We'll continue our conversations later," Ambessa addressed the Council. They shared confused looks, Mel eyeing her mother. Glancing to you in her arms. She knew about you and her mother's relationship. Sometimes Mel wasn't sure how to feel about it.

Ambessa carried you out of the room and to the place you and her were staying while in Piltover. She set you down on the bed, hand trailing your face. Cupping your cheek. She can't remember the last time she'd ever seen you so worn out. Just how little sleep were you getting? You weren't putting all your energy into your work, were you? Oh, of course you were. That's just what you did. You were a worker.

"Rest, my darling," she murmured. Not caring if you couldn't hear her, her thumb brushed your cheek before she let go. Giving you one more thoughtful gaze before heading to the kitchen. Getting you a glass of water for whenever you woke up. Normally she would just make somebody else do this, if it were a glass for herself. But when it came to you? Ambessa was the only one to take care of you. That's just how she wanted it.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Words related to Love

to include in your next poem/story

Amative - relating to or indicative of love.

Aubade - a song or poem of lovers parting at dawn.

Besotted - strongly infatuated; (archaic) intoxicated; drunk. The earliest recorded usage of the related adjective besotted (in the late 16th century, from the past participle of the verb besot), however, described a state of intoxication due to amorousness rather than adult beverages; the still-current sense of besotted meaning “drunk” didn’t show up until the early 19th century.

Billet-doux - a love letter. In French, billet doux means “sweet letter.”

Calf-love - transitory love or affection often experienced by young people. The term puppy love is more commonly used than calf-love these days, perhaps owing to more people raising pets than cattle. But both refer to intense yet often fleeting affection experience by young—especially teenaged—couples.

Mellifluous - (of a voice or words) sweet or musical; pleasant to hear; often used to describe a lover's voice. Mellifluous comes from two Latin roots: the noun mel, meaning “honey,” and the verb fluere, meaning “to flow.” As it has for centuries, mellifluous typically and figuratively describes sound, and is often at the tip of the tongues of writers who proclaim that a voice or melody is smooth like molasses.

Opsigamy - marriage at an advanced age.

Osculate - to kiss. Osculate turns up mostly in humorous contexts as a fancy word meaning “to kiss.” The Latin noun for “kiss,” osculum, is also the diminutive of the Latin noun os, meaning “mouth.” Our adjective oral also comes from this root. Osculate (or its related noun osculation) might be used as an alternative to kiss to avoid repeating the latter word, or to bring an ironically clinical connotation to a common action for which slangier alternatives like smooch exist.

Sheep's eye - a shy longing and usually amorous glance—usually used in plural.

Venust - (archaic) beautiful, graceful, elegant.

If any of these words make their way into your poem/story, please tag me or leave a link in the replies. I'd love to read them!

More: Word Lists

[yoomiwrites]

We won²

Summary: The war is won, yet you lost too much. And well – how much can you still win? Read the first chapter here: We won

Note: I felt the rush and wrote more chapters for Ekko (5 or 6, depends on where I'll "cut" em). So yeah, more Arcane on my feed! I also wrote a Mel story which I'll probably post later.

Life after the war was a slow, aching process. The streets were littered with reminders of what they’d lost—buildings in ruins, empty spaces where loved ones once stood. Amid the chaos of rebuilding, you found purpose in small acts: patching walls, tending to wounds, and, most of all, looking after Ekko.

He threw himself into the work, determined to rebuild faster than his body could manage. You often found him at the break of dawn, still tinkering or sketching plans, dark circles under his eyes.

“Ekko, you need to sleep,” you’d say, gently prying tools from his hands.

He’d protest, insisting he was fine, but you didn’t budge. You made sure he ate enough, often sitting beside him with your own plate to ensure he didn’t skip meals. It was a rhythm you both fell into—one that kept him going and kept you close. Even if your heart ached to be more than his friend, you knew this was what he needed.

One morning, you found Vi at Powder’s grave. She stood there alone, her shoulders tense, her jaw tight. You hesitated before approaching, unsure if she wanted company. But when she glanced over and gave you a nod, you joined her.

The grave was simple, adorned with flowers that had started to wilt. Vi’s fingers traced the edge of the stone, her gaze distant.

“She was a mess, you know,” Vi said suddenly, her voice rough with emotion. “But she was still my sister.”

You nodded, unsure of what to say. You thought of all the times you’d seen Powder and Vi together as kids—the way Vi had shielded her, protected her.

“I think she knew you loved her,” you said softly.

Vi scoffed, her lips curling into a bitter smile. “Maybe. But I spent so much time hating her, it’s hard to forgive myself for that.” She paused, then added, “But Cait… she helped me. Helped me forgive myself.”

Her words carried a weight you recognized—the struggle of moving forward when the past still clung so tightly. You swallowed hard, thinking of your own burden.

“I’m trying to move on too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “He… he doesn’t need me to love him like that. He needs a friend. And I want to be that for him.”

Vi turned to you, her sharp gaze softening. “You’ve been through hell and back for him. That counts for something, even if it’s not what you want.”

“I know,” you said, blinking back tears. “It’s just hard. Letting go.”

Vi’s hand landed on your shoulder, her grip firm but comforting. “You’re stronger than you think,” she said. “And if it gets too much, you know where to find me.”

Her words weren’t poetic or grand, but they were exactly what you needed.

As the days turned into weeks, you found yourself letting go little by little. You stayed by Ekko’s side, but your heart began to heal. You threw yourself into the work, into helping Zaun rise from the ashes. And on the days when the weight of it all felt too heavy, Vi’s rough but steady presence was a reminder that you weren’t alone.

Ekko didn’t notice the shift in you, and that was okay. You didn’t need him to. It was enough to see him smile, to know he was still here, and to know you had a place in his life—even if it wasn’t the one you’d once dreamed of.

[schemmentigfs]

Heyy babes😘🩷🪩

I've got a request for a Melissa x art teacher!reader where R and Mel are married but they both kept their own last names (and maybe they were wedding bands instead of big sparkly ring) so nobody really caught on, but they've never hid it so like if anyone asked they wouldn't deny it <3

And maybe reader is like really sweet and kind and loves to go on and on about Melissa but understands time and place and just doesn't do it at work. Kinda like a grump x sunshine

Wedding Bands.

Summary: the Abbott crew unexpectedly finds out about your marriage with Melissa.

tags 🤍: @lisaannwaltersbra

Being married to Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti is like living with a storm that balances between chaos and calm—blunt, sarcastic, and fiercely protective, but with a tenderness that only you really get to see. She’s fire and steel on the outside, especially when it comes to her students and her friends, but behind closed doors, with you, she’s a softer, more vulnerable version of herself. It’s a love that surprises people who only know the tough, no-nonsense second-grade teacher with her sharp tongue and devil-may-care attitude. But, it's a love that you wouldn’t trade for anything in the world.

Though you both kept your last names after getting married, there’s never been any secret about your relationship. You wear matching, simple wedding bands, understated and meaningful rather than flashy. There was no grand show when you exchanged vows, no glittering diamond engagement rings or social media announcement. It was just you and her, standing together in the truth of your love. You’ve never hid it either. If anyone asked, you’d tell them. But most don’t. Maybe they assume you’re just close friends. Maybe they’re too focused on the fact that, at work, you’re the soft-spoken art teacher with paint-splattered aprons, and she’s still the formidable Ms. Schemmenti.

Today, though, is not a workday. It’s early Sunday morning, the soft light of dawn filtering through the curtains. You’re in bed, nestled in a cocoon of warmth, Melissa’s arm draped across your waist, her hand resting lazily against your stomach. The slow, rhythmic sound of her snoring fills the quiet room. It’s not the delicate, quiet kind of snoring you’d expect from someone so beautiful.

No, actually your wife snores like a bear, loud and unapologetic. The kind that can startle you awake at night, though by now, you’re more amused than anything.

You turn your head slightly, watching her sleep. Her fiery red hair is splayed across the pillow, messy from a night of tossing and turning. There’s drool on her cheek, and it’s smeared against your neck, leaving a wet patch on your skin. A small smile creeps onto your lips as you stifle a laugh. She always denies she snores, and the drooling? She flat-out refuses to acknowledge it, no matter how many times you tease her about it.

As much as you want to stay wrapped up in her warmth, you need to get up. There’s a list of house chores waiting for you, and if you’re going to make breakfast for the both of you, you need to get started. You shift gently, trying to slide out from under Melissa’s arm without waking her, but as soon as you try to pull away, she lets out a low, grumpy groan.

“Mm-mm,” the older woman mumbles, still half-asleep, her arm tightening around your waist. Her lips brush against your neck, and you feel her nuzzle closer. “Hm, babe?”

You chuckle softly. “Mel, I need to get up,” you whisper, trying to pull away again.

“No. Stay,” your wife grumbles, voice thick with sleep. She sounds like a grumpy old bear as she buries her face further into your neck. “Too early.”

Her lips press lightly against your neck again, but this time, they linger, and you feel her teeth graze your skin. You freeze, not because you’re afraid, but because you know what’s coming next. Melissa Schemmenti, for all her gruffness, has a soft spot for early morning affection. The moment you try to escape, she pulls you back in, refusing to let you go.

“Lissa….” you sigh, laughing quietly.

Before you can protest, she bites down on your neck—not hard enough to hurt, but just enough to make you squirm. Then she starts sucking, slow and deliberate, her lips pulling at your skin as her grip tightens around you.

You gasp softly, trying to wiggle away, but she’s got you trapped in her sleepy hold. “Melissa Ann, come on,” you whine playfully, knowing full well that she’s not going to let you go so easily.

She doesn’t stop. In fact, she only intensifies her efforts, the wet, lazy kisses trailing along the curve of your neck. You can feel her smiling against your skin, and you know exactly what she’s doing. She’s using her favorite trick—those soft, irresistible puppy eyes—to get her way. Melissa, grumpy and stubborn as she is, knows how to play you like a fiddle.

“Please?” the redhead woman mumbles, voice barely above a whisper, still sleep-heavy. “Just five more minutes.”

You groan, unable to resist her when she’s like this. She can be a total grump, but when she looks at you like that—her dark green eyes soft and pleading, her lips pressed to your skin—it’s hard to say no.

You sigh, letting your head fall back onto the pillow. “Fine. Five more minutes,” you mutter, pretending to be annoyed, though you’re smiling the whole time.

Melissa makes a satisfied noise, finally easing up on her hold, though she keeps her face buried in your neck. You can feel her lips curve into a grin as she gives your skin one last playful bite before settling down. Her snoring resumes almost instantly, deep and steady, like the rumble of an engine.

You lay there for a few more minutes, listening to her breathe, feeling the rise and fall of her chest against your back. She’s a force to be reckoned with, that’s for sure, but moments like this, when it’s just the two of you, she’s like a big, sleepy kitten. All her sharp edges soften, and the walls she keeps up for the rest of the world melt away. You can’t help but feel a surge of affection for her in this vulnerable state, her warmth surrounding you like a protective barrier against the outside world.

But, true to her nature, Melissa doesn't stay sweet for long. The peace of the morning is interrupted by her grumbling as she rolls over, releasing you from her grasp but leaving a lingering bite mark on your neck.

“You’re ridiculous as fuck, you know that?” you tease, rubbing at the sore spot.

She cracks one eye open, smirking lazily. “You love me.”

You sigh dramatically, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

The rest of the day goes as most of your Sundays do—comfortable, slow, filled with the kind of peace you’ve learned to savor after a busy workweek. You make breakfast while Melissa lingers in the kitchen, sipping coffee and watching you cook with a half-smile. You love these little moments, the quiet domesticity of your life together. It’s a stark contrast to the chaos of school, where she’s the tough-as-nails second-grade teacher and you’re the laid-back art teacher, happily covered in paint most of the time.

At work, your marriage isn’t something you flaunt. Not because you’re hiding it, but because there’s no need to announce it. You’ve always been the kind of person who believes in keeping personal life personal, especially when you’re at school. Besides, anyone who really knows you two could easily guess there’s something more between you. There’s the way Melissa’s eyes light up when she talks about you, the way she sneaks glances at you from across the teachers’ lounge when she thinks no one is watching.

And of course, there are your wedding bands. Small and simple, just the way you both wanted them, they’re easy to overlook unless someone knows what they’re looking for. You remember the day you picked them out, how you and Melissa both agreed that neither of you wanted something big or flashy. Just something meaningful.

“I like that we don’t need to make a show of it,” you had said at the time, sliding the band onto her finger with a smile.

“Good,” Melissa had replied, grinning as she slid yours onto your finger. “Because I’d rather die than wear a giant rock.”

Later in the day, when you’re both lounging on the couch, your wife pulls you into her lap, wrapping her arms around your waist. She’s still grumpy from the morning, but she’s softened considerably since then.

“You know I hate when you try to leave me in bed,” she grumbles, pressing her lips to the back of your neck.

You laugh, turning your head to look at her. “Yeah, well, I hate waking up covered in drool, so I guess we’re even.”

Melissa groans, but there’s a hint of a smile on her face. “I don’t drool, dumbass.”

You smirk, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek. “Sure you don’t, Mel.”

She narrows her eyes at you, playfully biting at your shoulder, but you just laugh, knowing that as tough as she acts, she’s completely wrapped around your finger. And that’s something you’ll always cherish—knowing that, at the end of the day, no matter how grumpy or sarcastic she gets, Melissa Schemmenti is yours, through and through.

Your marriage wasn't a secret at Abbott, but somehow, most people just didn’t seem to catch on. You wore your wedding bands every day, and if someone asked, you’d have no problem sharing the truth, but the topic just never came up. Despite there being rumors, you figured the quiet art teacher with the sunny disposition and the tough, no-nonsense second-grade teacher seemed like an unlikely match to the rest of the staff.

Of course, Barbara Howard knew from day one. She was your wife’s best friend for god's sake. Melissa had too much respect for Barb to keep something like that from her. The kindergarten teacher would give you knowing smiles at staff meetings during development weeks or breaks and occasionally make cryptic comments that sailed right over the heads of your co-workers, though you and the older woman always exchanged smirks when they happened.

But now, as you’re sitting in the teacher’s lounge on a normal Wednesday afternoon, sipping your coffee and chatting with Janine and Jacob about the upcoming art fair, the rest of the crew is about to have an awakening.

Melissa bursts into the lounge, her usual fiery energy turning heads as she stomps in, tossing her bag on the nearest chair. You glance up at her and smile, knowing from the look on her face that she’s had a day. Before anyone else can react, she strides across the room, stopping directly in front of you. Without a word, she leans down and plants a quick kiss on your lips—something she doesn’t usually do at work, but it’s clear she’s too frustrated to care right now.

The teacher’s lounge goes silent.

Jacob, who had been mid-sentence, looks like someone just unplugged his brain. Janine’s big eyes are wide as saucers, and Gregory, who had been quietly minding his own business in the corner, slowly raises his eyebrows. Even Ava, who’s notoriously hard to surprise, is staring from her spot with an amused grin.

Melissa pulls back from the kiss, scowling as she collapses into the chair next to you.“You’re not leaving earlier and letting me with those monsters today. I’m taking you home,” she growls, reaching for your coffee and taking a sip without asking.

You giggle, kissing her nose that scrunches immediately. And lean back in your chair, as the rest of the room remains frozen in shock.

“Wait, wait, wait—what?!” Janine is the first to find her voice, her hand flailing as she points between you and Melissa. “Did you—did you just—”

The redhead shoots her a look, half-exasperated and half-amused. “What, pipsqueak? You’ve never seen a married couple kiss before?”

Jacob’s mouth drops open, his eyes flicking between you and Melissa like he’s just put two and two together. “Married?!” His voice cracks, and he clears his throat, looking completely flabbergasted. “You two are married? Like wife and wife?”

You bite your lip to hold back a laugh, glancing at Melissa, who rolls her eyes. “Yep, Hill,” you say casually, holding up your left hand to show your wedding band. “We’ve been married for about six years now.”

Janine practically jumps out of her seat, hands flying to her cheeks. “How did I not know this?!”

Ava, who’s been watching the whole thing like it’s her favorite drama, lets out a cackle. “Y’all are just now figuring this out?” She leans back on the brick wall, crossing her arms. “I knew it. I mean, look at them. The only question is who lasts longer in bed.”

Melissa narrows her eyes at the principal. “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.”

You smile at that, glancing at your wife, whose grumpy expression has softened into something more affectionate. She leans in closer, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before muttering, “We should’ve told them sooner. Now they’re never gonna shut up about it.”

You laugh. “Yeah, but you love it.”

“Hmm,” your wife grunts, though the smile tugging at her lips gives her away. “Maybe.”

As the crew continues to ask questions and process the fact that you and Melissa have been married this whole time, you just sit back and enjoy the moment. It’s not like you’ve been hiding your love, but there’s something nice about finally sharing it with the people you work with every day.

And even though the second grade teacher will grumble and complain, you know she secretly loves that they all know now too. Because, at the end of the day, being with you is something she’s proud of, whether she admits it out loud or not.

From across the room, Barbara catches your eye and gives you a wink, as if to say. I told you they’d figure it out eventually.

You wink back.

Later that evening, after a long day filled with laughter and revelations, you and Melissa find yourselves cuddled up on the couch, wrapped in each other's arms again. The soft glow of the lamp casts a cozy light over the room, and you can hear the faint hum of the city outside your window.

You rest your head on Melissa’s shoulder, feeling her fingers gently tracing patterns on your arm. It’s a comfortable silence, the kind that speaks volumes about your relationship. You’ve always loved this about her—how she could be so gruff and intimidating to others, yet so tender and nurturing with you.

As you sit there, your mind wanders back to the day’s events. You can’t help but wonder what it would have been like if the rest of the crew had found out sooner. Would they have treated you differently? Would they have reacted with shock and excitement or simply accepted it as part of the dynamic? The thought brings a smile to your face.

“What’s so funny, amore?” She asks, glancing down at you with a quizzical look.

You shake your head, grinning. “Just thinking about how everyone reacted today. It’s kind of wild, isn’t it? They never saw it coming.”

Melissa chuckles, her laughter a low rumble in her chest. “Yeah, they’re pretty clueless ‘n a bunch of dumbasses. But it’s funny to see their faces.”

You nod, leaning into her a bit more. “I love that we’re us. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

The older woman turns her head slightly, her green eyes sparkling in the dim light. “You mean that?”

“Of course. You’re my everything, Mel,” you say earnestly.

Her expression softens, and she leans down to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead. “You’re mine too, sunshine.”

As you settle back against her, a warm feeling spreads through your chest. You realize that regardless of how others might perceive your relationship, it’s what you have that truly matters. Your love, your partnership, and the moments next to her.

You know that you wouldn’t trade this life for anything. Not the snarky comments, not the grumpiness, and definitely not the way she loves you. Together, you are perfectly imperfect.

[maryannecrimsworth]

Dance with me

Pairing: Mel Medarda x Winged! Reader

Summary: a part 3 of A wolf, a witch, a lover; after months hiding, Mel surprises you in the morning with an dangerous proposal

Part 1, Part 2

Warnings: there's a bit of tension and drama in this one, slightly violent, end is cute though

Mentions: i'm honestly writing this for you guys @jinxjinxjinx12 @superbscissorsdeanexpert @maq34 @justyourwritter69 @powderbomb-jinxed

Your nights together carried the weight of unspoken words and the release of hours of restraint. In her arms, you felt a vulnerability that no battlefield had ever exposed in you. Her touch was deliberate, soft yet commanding, like everything else about her. It reminded you of why she was both a ruler and a temptation—a paradox you couldn’t resist. Every day you'd bowe before her, obedient and willingly as her general; every night, you'd hold her like a lover, and cherish her as long as the night allowed. You'd lose and gain each other every day, every night — and you loved it every single time. A second by her side made you forever grateful, even if it eventually came to an end.

Tonight was no different.

The dawn came too soon, as it usually did, its golden light filtering through the grand windows of her chamber. Mel lay curled against you, her breath steady, her features softened in sleep. For a fleeting moment, she wasn’t the Empress of Noxus but simply a woman who had let down her guard. The world outside the room seemed like a distant memory, but reality wouldn’t wait forever.

Your nights started to be like this: with love and companion, a warm embrace after the hardship of duty. However, the morning always came, and so have your time: you had to leave her side.

You stirred, careful not to wake her, though your movements caused her to shift slightly. Her voice, still thick with sleep, broke the silence.

“Leaving already, General?”

You froze, caught halfway between duty and desire.

“I thought it best to avoid prying eyes,” you replied, your voice hushed. “The palace wakes early, and whispers spread faster than the wind.”

Mel’s lips curved into a faint smile, her eyes still closed. “Let them whisper. I tire of hiding.”

Her words surprised you. For months, you had both maintained this facade, a calculated distance to preserve her authority. Yet now, as the sunlight illuminated her face, she seemed to suggest something different.

“Your position—your vision for Noxus—it could be jeopardized,” you warned, though your voice lacked conviction.

Mel finally opened her eyes, fixing you with that piercing golden gaze. “If they cannot respect an Empress who loves, then they are not fit to serve this nation.”

The weight of her words settled in your chest, but before you could respond, a sharp knock at the door shattered the moment.

“Empress Medarda,” a servant’s voice called from the other side. “Your council awaits your presence in the Great Hall.”

Mel sighed, the spell of intimacy breaking as she rose from the bed. Her golden tattoos caught the morning light, a reminder of her unyielding strength. She glanced back at you, her expression a mixture of fondness and resolve.

“Duty calls,” she said softly, echoing your words from some nights before.

You nodded, adjusting your uniform. “As it always does.”

She stepped closer, her fingers brushing your arm. “But don’t think for a moment that this ends our conversation.”

Her touch lingered for a heartbeat before she pulled away, leaving you alone in the room to process the weight of her promise.

The day passed in a blur of meetings and preparations. Reports from the shadow unit demanded your immediate attention, and though your thoughts often drifted back to her, you forced yourself to focus.

By evening, you found yourself summoned again—not to the battlefield, but to her private study.

“General,” she greeted as you entered, her tone formal yet warm. She sat at her desk, surrounded by maps and papers, the burden of leadership evident in her posture.

“You requested me, Empress?”

Mel gestured for you to approach, her expression unreadable.

"I have a question for you," she began, pausing before continuing. "How were alliances celebrated in Karyndor?" Her tone was as steady as her gaze, which was fixed on your face. "I’d like to learn more about your homeland."

“We didn’t usually celebrate military or political alliances with the people,” you replied briefly. “The king was keen to keep civil life separate from diplomatic conflicts.”

A subtle smile lifted the corners of Mel’s lips. “No, I meant civilian alliances.”

“Oh.” That was all you managed to say, which only caused Mel’s smile to widen.

“So, how were they celebrated?” she repeated, giving you little time to regain your composure. You could feel your cheeks flush under her watchful gaze.

“It involved a great festival, a ritual that brought together thousands of people.” You spoke slowly, your words drifting into the quiet of the study as you began to pace. “Sometimes several unions were celebrated at once; sometimes, just one. The interested parties would perform a unique dance—a reflection of each individual Karyndorian’s spirit. If the proposal was accepted, their beloved would join in the dance. An alliance was formed in this way.”

Your wings fluttered gently behind you, as if remembering the songs and movements of the rituals. “The wings of the participants were adorned with ornaments, serving as a vital part of the performance. Through them, they displayed their strength and beauty; they symbolized who they were.” A quiet laugh escaped your lips. “If the proposal was rejected, the dancer was required to take flight and keep going until they collapsed from exhaustion. Their honor was preserved only if their effort pushed them to the very edge.”

“What a unique celebration!” Mel exclaimed, her voice brimming with genuine excitement. “Your people must have been artistic and deeply passionate.”

Her sentence was followed by a long, steadfast silence. You said nothing as the realization of her intent started to fall upon you.

After some time, your feet stopped in place, your wings dropped in a cessation of every movement. Her steady gaze on yours, the stirring meaning behind her question, they had paralyzed you.

“Why do you wish to hear about the covenants of my former people, Empress?”

“I told you our conversation wasn’t finished,” she began, but her sentence was abruptly interrupted by a loud knock at the study door.

Her smiling, calm countenance hardened, and her voice carried weight as she turned toward the entrance: “A meeting is in progress.”

Despite the Empress’s commanding tone, the door opened.

“Forgive me, Empress.” One of your soldiers stepped inside, his body trembling. He bowed to the Empress before turning to you. “It’s urgent.”

Mel cast you a worried glance, which you answered with an assuring nod. A threat existed in the city, you were aware, but your shadow unit monitored the situation closely. No surprises would befall the nation.

“Excuse me, ma'am. I must go.” You bade farewell with a respectful nod and left the room with the nervous soldier by your side.

“The guardians are requesting reinforcements for the harvest parade,” the soldier’s voice barely rose above a whisper, lost in the vast corridors of the palace. His tone carried the weight of fear, as though he dreaded being overheard. “They’ve received threats from insurgents—an attack planned during the empress’s speech.”

Your jaw clenched instinctively, and your hand tightened around the hilt of your sword.

“How do they know it’s the insurgents?”

“They signed it, sir. The Red Stain.” The soldier halted abruptly, hesitating. With a trembling hand, he reached into his iron vest and withdrew a crumpled piece of paper. “Here.”

The note passed into your hands, its scarlet letters glowing ominously against the dark parchment. The message bristled with malice, vowing vengeance against the empress who had "ruined the warrior nation." Along the edges of the paper were the same cryptic symbols and markings that had appeared in alleys and at crime scenes for months, unmistakably linking it to the rebellious occult group.

“They claim they’ll take back the nation of Noxus—once and for all,” the soldier repeated as you scanned the words. “The parade route is the perfect place, general. There are too many civilians for us to act freely. Our hands will be tied, and a tragedy will happen if we don’t cancel the event.”

“Is that what the guardians intend to do?” Your voice remained steady, though his panic grated on you. His demeanor was uncharacteristic of your army—it sounded more like the fearful prattle of civil guardians. He shook his head. “That's what the Stain wants, soldier. To terrorize the people, to show itself to be stronger than us. Its words cannot have such power.”

The soldier's eyes widened.

“What do you mean?” he asked in a sharp grunt.

“Tell the guardians to be ready, but our soldiers won't get involved. There's no need to alarm the people in such a way.”

“But sir---”

“Go!”

The soldier hesitated briefly before retreating, his hurried footsteps fading down the corridor.

There were only a few hours until the parade, a short period of time to mobilize your battalions and organize a proper security perimeter for the celebration. A rushed response would create chaos—the very commotion you suspected the insurgents desired. It was a ploy, you were certain, to keep all eyes fixed on the parade while the rest of the city was left vulnerable.

Even so, you couldn’t gamble with the lives of your citizens on mere intuition. You ordered a few reinforcements for the parade but insisted they remain as shadows—officers blending seamlessly into the crowd, discreet yet ready to strike if the need arise.

But the question gnawed at you relentlessly: Where would they want me not to look during Mel’s speech?

The empress changed the colors of the nation, as well as its brutal attitude. From a country stained with blood, always dressed in dark and red colors, prepared for battle, to the streets of the Noxinian cities reflecting light and golden beams. The peaceful purity of the color white, the golden diplomacy of a flexible nation - the colors of Mel - had dressed Noxus perfectly. The population accepted the changes, even its soldiers changed their uniforms with a hopeful disposition. The future had arrived: the nation state of Noxus was bright and peaceful, with no bloodstains. However, not all Noxians were happy. The red stain was a small but insistent group of citizens attached to the old, violent regime. Because of this, they began to attack former servants, freed prisoners of war, immigrants - anyone who was considered a threat to the deceased Ambessa was also a threat and target for them.

The attacks, however, were small and quickly contained by the local guard. There was no significant threat, not until now. The letter really was frightening, and would have scared most of the military officers you knew. After all, the new military officers of Noxus were still inexperienced, and any threat to their people was enough to agitate them. It was understandable, but it couldn't be allowed.

With your experience in Karyndor, you knew that there would always be dissenters against the government. Violent opposition would exist, it was almost natural on the continent. Even Mel couldn't please everyone, so you waited. You noticed the bluff and withdrew your army from the parade. As you had hoped, nothing happened. The people celebrated happily, the empress's speech was greeted with nothing but applause and the festivities lasted until nightfall. The guardians held their positions without any problems, and your shadows remained silent. It was a good night, from what you heard from the castle servants. Festive, pleasant and comforting. A new tradition that brightened the lives of the citizens.

You were happy to hear how the evening had unfolded. After a few more reports and messages from the guard, your services were no longer required and you made your way down to the most secluded part of the palace. Mel had already returned and was resting in her quarters, and you planned to join her without delay.

Your room was empty and tidy, as usual. A servant opened the door for you and greeted you with a nod, but avoided your gaze. His eyes, for some reason, ran away from your figure. The door was closed behind you and then you heard it: hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor outside.

Something was wrong.

A deafening rumble echoed from the far side of the building, shaking the palace’s floors and walls. The table Mel was leaning on quivered violently, scattering her documents and belongings onto the ground. She sprang to her feet, the golden markings on her body shimmering brilliantly in the face of the unexpected danger. Outside, the night’s calm gave way to chaos—a cacophony of despairing cries and commanding shouts tore through the air.

“What’s happened?” Mel demanded, grabbing the first servant who crossed her path. She stopped him mid-escape, desperate for answers. The man’s face was pale with terror, his lips quivering as he failed to form a response. “Speak to me! What are you—”

“Empress, come with us.” Two uniformed officers appeared, their movements urgent. “There’s been an attack in the western sector. We’re evacuating the palace.”

The western sector. The words struck Mel like an arrow, stealing her breath. It was your sector, the area where your room was—the very reason you hadn’t been by her side tonight.

“Take me there. I’ll fight alongside my army.” Her voice was resolute, her authority unshaken, but her command was met only with hesitant glances exchanged between the officers.

“Protect the subjects,” she continued, her tone sharpening. “Surround the perimeter and search for suspects. We must find out who’s behind this.”

Without waiting for their acknowledgment or actions, Mel charged in the opposite direction of the evacuation route, weaving through a panicked crowd of crying and frantic servants. Only one of the officers dared follow her.

“We’re already taking care of that, ma’am. Please come with us and stay safe.” The officer reached out, his hand gripping the determined ruler’s arm. “Those are the general’s orders.”

Mel twisted free with a sharp, fluid motion, her golden markings glinting as she turned to face the insistent man.

“And where are they?” she demanded, her voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. She didn’t wait for an answer, turning on her heel and running toward the source of the explosion. She refused to let herself acknowledge the fear in the officer’s eyes or the haunting possibility that awaited her— she couldn't see the wail of death imminently, not when it came to you.

It felt like the longest path she had ever walked. Every step seemed heavier, every corridor an endless expanse. Obstacles littered the way—fallen debris, frightened servants, soldiers trying to guide her to safety. Yet, the empress pushed forward with unyielding determination, even as her body trembled beneath the weight of dread.

Her subjects caught glimpses of her as she passed, their tense faces softening with relief. To them, she was a beacon of strength and composure. But inside, her resolve wavered, her composure fragile. Her eyes remained dry, her focus unwavering only for now.

She had to find you.

Your room was utterly destroyed. The walls were streaked with dirty red, a grotesque smear of what could have been paint—or blood. Shattered furniture lay in disarray, splinters scattered like shrapnel. Pieces of weapons and scraps of your clothing were strewn everywhere. The floor was littered with burnt feathers, a haunting reminder of what had transpired.

Mel stepped forward, her breath caught in her throat, but the officer blocked her path again.

“Let us handle our work, ma’am. Stay safe, with your people,” he insisted, his voice firmer now. “Please.”

“Your work?” Her voice rose, sharp and thunderous, cutting through the air like lightning splitting the sky. “Your work to prevent attacks like this?”

The officer faltered, his words catching in his throat as he struggled for a response. His gaze darted away, unable to meet the fire in the empress’s eyes. Mel seized the opportunity, taking a step forward, but he quickly moved to block her path again.

“We weren’t caught off guard, ma’am,” he said, though his tone wavered with guilt. “Please go.”

Before she could retort, a new sound shattered the tense air of the evacuated palace. It came first as a faint echo, then grew louder—a chilling chorus of howls and exultant cheers from outside. The sharp contrast to the earlier screams of despair sent an icy shiver through her body.

Without hesitation, Mel turned and ran toward the source of the noise. Her heart thudded violently in her chest with each step, her mind consumed by fear. Her tears had already begun to fall, trailing streaks down her face as she pushed through the chaos. She came to an abrupt stop when the scene unfolded before her.

There, in front of the palace entrance, hovering above the garden and the evacuated crowd, was you.

Your wings, bruised and outstretched, bore the weight of your body in the air. The full moon’s glow framed your figure, casting a ghostly light over the scene. Crimson streaked your form, glinting in the pale illumination—blood or paint, she couldn’t tell. But the sight of you, battered and defiant, stole the breath from her lungs. Mel stood frozen, her trembling hands clenched at her sides as her heart screamed what her lips could not: You’re alive.

In your hands, however, was an unconscious man. Your landing in the palace garden was uncharacteristically clumsy, each movement more crude and careless than usual. With little ceremony, you released the man from your grasp, letting him drop to the ground.

“Is anyone hurt?” Those were the first words she heard you say, your voice carrying over the distance between you. Despite everything, the sound of it filled her with a rush of relief. Like Mel, the servants and soldiers were overjoyed to see you, quickly forming a circle around you. “He was fleeing just before the explosion,” you continued, your tone brisk and authoritative as you gestured toward the unconscious man. “He’s one of the suspects. The officers will bring in more once they finish securing the perimeter. Send them all to the cells—investigation only comes after ensuring everyone’s safety.” Command after command fell from your lips as you directed the soldiers with unrelenting precision.

But before you could say more, the crowd parted, and Mel burst through with a speed that drew every eye.

Without a moment’s hesitation, the Empress flung herself into your arms, wrapping them tightly around your neck. Her grip trembled, a desperate hold that spoke of fear, relief, and a hundred emotions in between.

You froze, caught off guard, your body stiffening as the weight of her embrace pressed against you. Everyone was watching—the soldiers, the servants, the officers—but Mel didn’t seem to care. Her head buried in your shoulder, she held on as though she might lose you again.

For a moment, it felt as if the world had paused, leaving only the two of you in its stillness.

“Empress?” you whispered, your voice faltering as you tried—and failed—to return to formality.

“Y/N, are you hurt?” Mel stepped back just enough to scan your body, her gaze sharp and searching. The wet paint staining your skin had transferred to her once-immaculate clothing, vivid streaks of blood-red marring the pristine fabric. But she didn’t seem to notice, or if she did, she didn’t care.

Your armor was cracked from the explosion, and beneath it, cuts and bruises mapped your skin. The red marks covering your body weren’t just paint.

“There’s a fortress to the north of the palace,” Mel continued, her voice steady despite the tremor in her eyes. “We’ll be safe there.”

“You heard her, soldiers,” you commanded, turning to the gathered crowd. “Guide the people. Call the local guard and cordon off the area. Keep your eyes open.”

You avoided looking at her, your focus fixed on the soldiers and servants around you. Anything to avoid meeting her gaze. You feared that if you did, if you saw the pain in her eyes, the emotions you kept buried would surface, and everyone would know. They’d see the feelings you had for each other.

“You need medical attention.” Her voice was barely a whisper, soft and filled with concern, as her hand reached out to touch the crack in your armor. You flinched, recoiling from her gentle fingers—not because of the pain, but because of the others watching. Her touch was too intimate, too exposing. “Come with me,” she urged, her voice firm but laced with vulnerability.

Finally, you looked at her. The moonlight bathed her face, illuminating the fear in her watery eyes. It was a look you had never seen before, not in her. It was unbearable, impossible to resist. You sighed, the weight of her gaze breaking through your defenses. The command was quickly delegated to a trusted officer, and you surrendered to her request.

At the fortress, a small room was prepared for the two of you as you waited for the doctor’s arrival.

The tension between you hung heavy in the air, unspoken words filling the silence as the night stretched on.

"Are you certain you are unharmed?" It was the third time she had posed that question. Mel ceased her restless pacing before you, arms crossed tightly over her chest, her expression stern and authoritative. "Do not lie to me."

"I am fine. I managed to move away in time." Yet, despite your words, your hand remained pressed against the crack in your armor, staunching the wound to prevent further bleeding. "The furniture endured greater damage than I did."

"Your officer mentioned it wasn’t a surprise. You were aware of the attack." It was not the first time she broached this subject.

"We had suspicions, yes. The mistake was mine—I underestimated them." A sharp pain coursed through your ribs, momentarily robbing you of breath. "I did not imagine they would be bold enough to assault the palace."

"I would call it reckless. They will be apprehended before dawn." Mel’s voice carried an edge, an uncharacteristic sharpness coloring her tone. She was correct, but her rising agitation risked drawing unnecessary attention from the servants in the adjacent room. Their murmurs were already audible, weaving conjectures about your relationship with the empress.

"Mel." Her name escaped your lips in a quiet whisper, heavy with weariness and pain. It was the only way to get her attention. "Come here, please."

You extended your hand, urging her closer. She took it, her grasp firm, intense, and unyielding—holding onto you as though your life depended on it, as though you were slipping away.

Gently, you guided her to sit beside you, and at last, she fell silent.

"Everything is under control," you assured her, though her grip on your hand remained unrelenting. "The attack failed. No one was harmed."

"You were!" she countered, her voice breaking. "They hurted you. They could have..." Her words faltered, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I thought—"

You longed to embrace her, to pull her into your arms and quiet her fears. Every fiber of your battered body ached with the desire to hold her, to protect her from the terror she had endured. But the blood soaking through your side held you back. You could not bear the thought of staining her with your pain, of making her carry the burden of your failure.

Instead, you leaned forward carefully, wincing at the effort, and placed a brief, gentle kiss on her lips.

"I am here," you murmured. The words seemed to reach her at last. Her tension melted away, and for the first time that night, her expression softened into peace and relief.

But as you pulled back, her eyes opened, and they immediately found yours. Her gaze was unwavering, filled with regret, resolve, and something more profound.

"I want you to dance with me," she said, her voice steady, though her vulnerability was evident. "As you told me about this morning, as we discussed."

"No, Mel. It is unnecessary." You attempted to pull away, but the movement ignited another sharp pang in your side, leaving you paralyzed for a moment. You closed your eyes tightly, swallowing back a groan. "I am content. I am happy. You need not do anything." The words emerged faintly, but they carried a profound truth. You required nothing more. Mel was enough—her presence in the quiet of night, her strength at dawn. She brought you solace.

"I want this, Y/N," she insisted, her voice deep with conviction. "I want you to be more than mine in the shadows. I want us to be more than a secret concealed within the palace."

Her words struck you like a blow, and your body recoiled instinctively. You shifted back, ignoring the agony of the movement.

"This has been a difficult night. Emotions are heightened, and everyone is on edge. Let us simply..." You paused, gasping as the air seemed to abandon your lungs, another wave of pain overtaking you. "Let us wait for the night to pass. Decisions of this magnitude shouldn't be made now."

"Where is that cursed doctor?" Mel exclaimed, springing to her feet and marching toward the door in frustration. Finding no one approaching, her distress grew palpable.

Her gaze returned to you, fierce and resolute.

"I made my decision months ago. Tonight has only served to reaffirm how much—" Her words were abruptly cut off by the arrival of the doctor. You saw the unspoken curse she suppressed before she turned to explain the situation to him.

You didn't need to say anything; the doctor’s sharp eyes quickly assessed the severity of your injury and began the necessary treatment. As a precaution, he requested that the empress leave the room—whether out of suspicion or to spare her from witnessing the extent of the injury, you could not discern.

Reluctantly, Mel complied.

You did not see her for the rest of the night.

After a few stitches, sutures, and painkillers, you managed to rest.

The exact moment of sleep eluded your memory; you only recalled the adrenaline coursing through your veins eventually subsiding, leaving exhaustion to claim you. When you next opened your eyes, the imposing walls of Medarda Palace surrounded you. The room wasn’t your own—it could not have been repaired so quickly—but it exuded a familiar sense of hospitality.

Curious, you attempted to rise and observe your surroundings, only to be forced back onto the bed by a sharp pang of pain.

"Damnation!" The anger escaped your lips, followed by a stubborn resolve that helped you sit upright. Once seated, you noticed a small figure at a distance.

"Oh!" The young servant exclaimed as your eyes met his. Then, without another word, he bolted from the room.

Now alone, you began inspecting the chamber. Massive paintings adorned the towering walls, while a large window bathed the space in light. Tables and shelves filled the corners, crowded with letters and books.

The realization struck harder than the bruises marking your body: you were in Mel’s room. And now, every servant in the palace knew it. Soon, the entire nation would know you shared a bed with the empress.

Desperate and somewhat disoriented, you leaped from the bed with a strength fueled by fear. You had to leave, had to avoid the inevitable fallout—but you weren’t fast enough.

You hadn’t even made it halfway to the door when it abruptly swung open, revealing the empress herself.

"Empress Medarda." You straightened your posture, lifting your chin as you greeted her with composure. The cost of the movement was paid immediately: something along your side tore.

"Your stitches have broken." Her voice was cold, though her eyes revealed an tremor of concern. She turned to the guard at the door. "Call the physician."

Without hesitation, her orders were followed, leaving you alone with her once more.

"The suspects did not resist long." She began, her tone formal and composed as she approached you. "Within hours of interrogation, your officers extracted the names and locations of the Red Stain. The leaders have been arrested, and the minor members exiled. The nation is already aware: Noxus does not tolerate terrorism."

A warmth, unpleasant and oppressive, spread through your chest, forcing you to lean back as the empress advanced. By the time she had finished her update, you were seated on the edge of the bed, once again drained.

"I can relocate in a few days. It is the most prudent course of action, considering I could be a target again." Your tone carried the weight of both a general and her lover. Neither role could bear the thought of Mel being endangered because of you.

"The palace is the safest place in the nation. I have ensured that after tonight." Her firm voice left no room for argument.

You should have obeyed your empress. You should have accepted her proposal. You wanted to. A year had passed since you met, and your relationship had deepened, growing strong enough to withstand the wind of rumors. No Noxian tongue could poison what you shared.

Yet, yesterday had proven otherwise. The bomb planted in your quarters was the ultimate symbol of your deepest fear.

The nation hated you. At least a part of it—the faction still devoted to Ambessa. To them, you were an enemy, a traitor, a stranger. In their eyes, you would always remain a winged threat, a rat with feathers, not a citizen. Not a military leader. Not a worthy companion for the empress.

If your role as general was enough to provoke a violent movement like the Red Stain—if your work alone could motivate an attack on the heart of the capital—what could the exposure of your union with Mel incite?

What would their next move be? An uprising? Civil war? The assassination of the empress?

Each possibility that filled your mind was worse than the last, every thought flooding your chest with despair and dread.

"If this commitment frightens you—" Mel’s words cracked like a whip, cutting through the whirlwind of your thoughts. Her tone was careful, serene, yet the meaning sent a violent shudder through your body.

"What?" you interrupted, clearly confused and in pain. "How could you—What are you—" Your lips pressed into a tight line as you struggled to find the right words. "If a commitment to you frightened me, I would never have knocked on your door in the first place." Your voice was aggressive, laden with emotion despite your efforts to remain composed.

How could she even think such a thing?

"Then what is stopping you?" Her question was dry and precise, as if you were engaged in some impersonal debate.

For some reason, that made you snap.

"Because they hate everything I represent, Medarda!" Your body trembled with the force of your shout. "Forgiveness, mercy, new beginnings. To them, I am an invader, an unwelcome stranger to this nation."

Tears streamed down your flushed cheeks. Blood seeped through the bandages on your chest. Pain poured through your words, spilling from your lips with unbearable weight.

"If you cannot understand why this shakes me, then think like a politician. They will hate me—and they will hate you."

Your gaze fell as Mel moved; you lacked the strength to face her eyes.

"Your renewed nation will be lost because of our alliance. I cannot... I cannot allow that to happen."

Tears blurred your vision for what felt like an eternity. Drowning in pain, time seemed to freeze as anguish filled your chest and exhaustion took control of your body. You were exposed: your wounds lay open, as did your heart. The empress could do whatever she wanted with that — you had no strength left. All you could do was cry silently, blind to your surroundings.

Amidst a sea of salty tears, however, a dark figure came into view. In front of you, Mel’s face appeared; her scent quickly filled your lungs, and a wave of calmness helped you catch your breath again. Gently, her hands cradled your face, guiding it and patiently waiting until you met her gaze once more.

"I can’t either, Y/N." Her words warmed your face like a soft sigh. "And I won’t let this happen. But I want... I want..." In her brief hesitation, you noticed tears streaming down her face too. "I want you by my side. Not just at night, not as a secret. I want you as part of me, as part of my Empire." Her touch on your face grew slightly firmer, more vulnerable and uncertain. What left her lips was not an order but a plea: "Be my spouse."

Your wings immediately fluttered in response: they tried to take flight, a clear revelation of your first instinct. Yes, yes, yes! you wanted to shout. You wanted to hold Mel, wrap her in your arms, and take her to the skies. You wanted to dance with her, to celebrate your union — you wanted to be hers.

But fear still caused a tremor in your voice.

"I don’t want you to get hurt because of me."

"Hiding you from everyone is my greatest suffering, Y/N." Her reply made your eyes widen. "I’m done with these games; I need you out of these webs of interests and lies, I—"

"Yes." Your voice, finally firm, cut through her passionate speech. As much as you wanted to hear more, as much as you wanted to know, you couldn’t hold it in any longer. "Yes, yes! I will dance with you."

A laugh, carrying equal parts relief and joy, echoed through the empress’s chamber. She laughed with vulnerability, like when you spoke late at night, when your wild tales stole smiles from her until the first rays of sunlight appeared. But this time, her laughter resounded, powerful, meant to be heard by everyone.

Now, you no longer had to hide.

[1920sladydectective]

Best Friend's Mother Ch.3 6.8K

This is part three of the story inspired by @shinyshayminflower

It was gonna be the final part, but it's looking like there's at least another chapter or two to come

Angsty, Sad, just loads of stuff. Tiny bit of Smut MDNI 18+

Link to the whole fic on AO3 here lovelies, or you can scroll down my acc to find it here

Thank you @uselessbard1031 for being the best story sounding board

HERE WE GOOOOOOOOOO

The cold light of day revealed more than you could stomach. 

You hated yourself, hated her, hated everything you had ever stood for and accepted and wanted in that stupid house. 

Mel’s film came back a few days after you’d settled back into your flat, the Kodak Gold showing the pathetic rose tinted glasses that covered you for July and August. It was picturesque, toes in sand and melting Mr Whippys. Smooshed faces and a pissed off Mina. She showed them off, with a happy voice and gesticulating hands. It felt sort of like she was trying to cheer you up. 

You’d been in a ‘funk’ since you got back and it was being chalked up to your immediately heavy workload. 

That was it. Too much reading, four new essays and some new bullshit about work experience. Not the crushing void in your heart, not the breakup that was barely there, that existed for you and you alone. 

Ambessa Medarda was a black hole, alluring in her violence, beautiful in her consumption and you were mere space dust. That she had made abundantly clear. 

It kept you up at night, embarrassment curdled in you like milk. Body in tatters trying to keep your mind in check. 

I’ll ring you when I’m back

Whyever would you need to do that

You fucking idiot. 

Her stupid, soft pyjamas kept her grip on you, your phone’s fancy screen shining like her eyes. She was everywhere and you couldn’t tell anyone. 

You were the living dead, cursed to be unloved and used forever. You never thought of yourself as dramatic before, preferring humour and dismissiveness, but the gaping wound in you cried for attention. Cried to be acknowledged and picked at, a scar in the making, as each little flicker of healing was ripped off again and again. 

Six weeks later you still felt like a lovesick puppy. University and your job made time sparse and relaxation sparser still, but somehow the sadness lingered. You’d been grieving it for nearly as long as it had happened, some weird crossroads where it felt inappropriate to be sad. It was a summer fling, how many had existed since the dawn of time and yet it dug into you like an elusive splinter. 

Mel was another issue entirely. Warm and tender, trying to prop you up when you stopped eating or didn’t keep up with the laundry. Part of you wanted to scream and cry. I’m not who you think I am, your mind shouted, I’m awful and you should hate me like I hate myself. 

Then you’d eat a sausage roll, she’d send you a shitpost and you’d cry in the shower. Selfish as it was, you couldn’t lose both Medardas. 

Sometimes you thought you saw her name pop up on your phone, you’d look each time like a baby falling for a game of peekaboo. Nothing. The last message made your lungs tense every single time. 

 Bacon Crunchy or No?

Crunchy, but still soft. 

Demanding x

That breakfast in bed was the most revisited memory, probably spurred on by how many times you’d read those texts. You wouldn’t eat bacon anymore, flicked it out of your meal deal BLT before realising how counterproductive you’d made your sandwich. Wet mayonnaise and lettuce with half a tomato slice. What a sad life. Your cheeks were damp again and it was hard to breathe.

At some point enough was enough. You were a twenty three year old mooning over a woman over twenty five years your senior. You had a life, you had friends and a dad who called you sometimes. She was not the sun, you did not revolve around her. 

That lasted for about a week, until Mel mentioned going back briefly for her Mum’s birthday. November 9th. You hadn’t known that, wished you still didn’t. Somehow you were in a shopping centre helping her search for a gift. Budget was extensive and so was Mel’s ability to shop. 

What would be a good gift for Ambessa? Rat poison perhaps? 

You saw it or maybe it saw you. Gold, each chain link tiny, making it look almost like falling sunlight. One large crimson ruby hung at the end, metal criss crossing over it in a pretty setting. It would fit almost every outfit she wore. It matched her favourite earrings. It was unique, like her and she didn’t deserve it. 

“That seems perfect,” Your voice croaked, pointing towards the glass cabinet. 

Mel agreed because well, it just was. You lived, slowly and painfully, Rowan Atkinson’s scene from Love Actually. This was your punishment, your karma for your indecisiveness and deceit. Leaving Selfridges (dissociated and bankrupt from a bagel) you allowed yourself to be talked at. That seemed to be happening a lot these days, more sounding board and less person. That seemed to be what you’d lost, your personness, stuck in silk sheets in Surrey. There was no recon mission to be had either, the invitation for birthday celebrations blissfully, brutally not extended to you. 

You heard all about it though, obviously. You weren’t that lucky. Mel and Kino had organised a party, she had pretended to be ever so surprised and you had received fourteen drunk videos at three am. The house was different to how you’d ever seen it, twinkling lights and darker furnishings to herald the stormy winter approaching. Kino was doing the CanCan, offscreen choked laughter making your heart hurt. Each video devolved to make less sense, snapshots of the living room, pretty decoration and discarded champagne. The last one made your world spin, bile eating your throat. 

It was Ambessa, glassy eyed with shimmering makeup and bouncy curls, grinning at the camera with a cupcake in hand. Sitting pretty, as perfect as you’d imagined, was the necklace. 

“How’s your party been, Mum?” Mel’s hiccupped voice. 

“Perfect, Darling,” Ambessa muttered, an easy smile growing. 

“And your gift?” 

“Also perfect, Little wolf,” Her fingers stroked it instinctively, feeling along the ruby. 

“Say thank you to the camera then,” Mel says, impatient and swaying slightly, “She’s the one who helped me find it,” 

The shift was slight, you only noticed because you were looking, her face draining of some joy. 

Tone coy and light she stared directly at the screen, “Ah I see, when you said one of your friends, I didn’t realise you meant her! Who knew she knew me so well?” a criminally long pause, “Thank you, Sweet Girl,” 

The footage stopped, her smirk immortalised.

You hated her. Vile, vindictive little bitch. You burned all but one of your pyjamas sets in the garden, mesmerised by the flames as if their heat could cleanse you. Charred linen smelt like shit and you dumped it in the bin before it became a problem for the neighbours. Lip chewed raw, you curled onto the dining chair you had occupied half an hour ago, looking down at your traitorous phone

Your text response was calmer after that.

                                                            Nice, cute party! Drink some water babe xox

I kissed Jayce

                                                           Oh? 

And Viktor

                                                            OH

Can you call? 

                                                             It’s 4am Mel. 

                                                            Yes

The shrill thrum of Facetime rang throughout your kitchen, ear twitching slightly as you answered. 

“Thank fuck,” Mel sounded both stressed and excited, “This party has been so weird I wish you were here,” 

You didn’t. “Weird cause you tongued your two closest friends? Or weird some other way?”

“Don’t say tongued it’s vile,” She was clearly stumbling down the corridor to her bedroom, “And both, I guess? It’s a long story” 

“Babble away then, babe,” You’d missed this, missed her.

It actually wasn’t that long at all, content wise, Mel was just so drunk she restarted five thousand times. Jayce and Viktor were together, this you knew. Mel would sometimes kiss them both, occasionally more, and she didn’t know what to feel; this was new. Having a conversation about emotional intimacy versus physical with her when she was drunk and your last fuck had been her mother was like a stupid game of Monoply. It took forever, not much was accomplished and she ended up falling asleep just as you were getting to the good bit. 

“Mum’s also been weird,” It was slurred, hair spraying on the pillow, “Nostalgic or something,” 

“Nostalgic?” You didn’t want to talk about her, you didn’t.

“I dunno, think she missed me and Kino,” She coughed, “She’s been more quiet,” 

Quiet. Of course. She didn’t seem quiet when she threw your pet name in your face, but hey what did you know? Follow up questions were useless, Mel’s snores crackling through the phone. 

“Are you sleeping, Little wolf?” 

You were going to throw up, twitching hands launching your phone across the table. Mel’s phone echoed the crashing, drawing Ambessa’s attention. Picking the phone from her daughter’s fingers, she raised a quizzical and then uncertain brow. 

“Night Mel,” You whispered, slamming the end call button. The last noise from her end was that voice calling out your name. 

You didn’t sleep, your only remaining pair of pyjamas mocking you from the laundry basket. 

It washed over you like the tides, again and again, each time inching closer to consuming you. So much energy had been expended to move past this, but you crumbled like a stale biscuit in the face of her teasing, of your name from her mouth. Even now your heart skipped, ached, sang. It wasn’t real, the adoration and attraction she had looked at you with. How could you grapple with that? Alone and surrounded by all the kindness she had gifted you. There was a doubt, tart and strong, in your mind that you would ever matter to anyone ever again. Your clanking alarm clock seemed to agree, burrowing into your fitful dreams and warping to the sound of her laugh.

Mel came back, hungover and a little emotionally unstable which seemed to happen every time she went home. You had tacos on the sofa, sharing a beer and having the same conversation as before, though sober this time. You steered clear of her, focusing on Mel with an intensity that made the girl snort. 

“Back to planet earth then?”

“What?” Lettuce tumbled out, they’d given you a hard shell by accident. 

“I mean this is probably the most you’ve spoken to me since the summer,” 

A flinch, body rejecting the truth, as your lips turned down. 

“I get it, work and stuff,” Mel quickly added, stroking your arm like she would Mina, “Just missed you,” 

“Missed you too,” It choked out, despite your efforts to stay calm, flinging yourself against her and squeezing. 

Fuck Ambessa. It settled in you, a certainty fuelled by the intense turmoil of the past twenty four hours. You loved Mel and you would not be a shit friend anymore. 

Days were lighter after that, your acceptance shifting the colours of your world slightly. Your fancy laptop was a blessing, not a collar, helping you write your thesis without trouble. The coffee shop could have been worse, it was in a beautiful building with a rich history and it meant you could eat branded beans instead of 26p sludge. You’d even managed to save some money for Christmas. You were rising from the ashes of unrequited love, becoming a true optimist. Maybe you might start liking yourself soon. 

Then your dad called. 

“Hey, Peanut,” His gravelly tone was easily decipherable. He was about to disappoint you, again. 

“Hi Dad,” You settled in the armchair, chest deflating, “Everything okay?”

“I’ve got some news,” a rattled sigh, “I’m gonna need to stay on till January,” 

Rough hands ran over your face, “Of course,”

“I’m sorry kid but with the mortgage and-”

“I know, I understand,” 

“Maybe you could go back to that friend’s house?” He said hopefully, “You had such a good time,” 

Not fucking likely. If you told Mel that’s exactly what she’d suggest, so this one was staying quiet, you weren’t that healed. “It’s alright, I think I’d like to be at home, see some familiar faces, could always have dinner with the cousins,” 

“Yeah,” He sniffed, “Yeah okay love,” 

“I love you, I guess I’ll see you in the new year?”

“Of course, and I’ll ring you in the holidays,” He was firm in his intentions, even if it wouldn’t stick, “Love you,”

Christmas alone. Lucky you. 

It took more effort than you’d anticipated to censor the news around Mel. Part of you, small and desperate, wanted to fall into her and cry about it but then you would end up sniffling, sitting in her car on the way to that damned house. The last few weeks of term flew by, deadlines and Christmas parties numbing you out, pushing you into a glitzy, overwhelmed state. Mel was in her element, glittering gold as she wrapped a mountain of gifts, covered all of your kitchen surfaces in icing sugar and screamed George Michael. She was supposed to leave before you, giving you three days of peace in the house before you ended up in rural Derbyshire with nobody but the deer to talk to. 

About an hour before Mel was due to leave you received a phone call from your father and it affirmed for you that the universe, in all its cosmic wonders, had it out for you. 

Your terraced house had a very complex and old heating system, which had apparently died a sudden and dramatic death. Sure, whatever, no problem. Except a new one was going to cost at least ten thousand pounds and couldn’t be installed until January anyway. The neighbours had told him about the sudden flooding, and he had tried to deal with it faster, but being so far away and with so little immediate funds. 

“So it’s fucked,” You groan, “I guess I’ll have to stay here then,”

“I-” Your dad sounded shattered, “We might have to looking at selling, I haven’t got the cash to fix it,” 

“I’ll figure that out Dad,” Tight throat, air raspy, “It’s okay, thanks for calling,” 

“What’s fucked?” Mel said, appearing like a ghost, your shoulders jolting. 

“Eavesdropper,” It was a grumble, “It’s nothing,” 

“It’s clearly not if you’re looking at staying here,” 

Your eyes rolled, frustration bubbling,“House’s heating broke, can’t be fixed till January so I’ll stay here,” 

Mel looked crestfallen, “Oh no,” She embraced you, the hug more loving than you deserved, “What’s your dad going to do? Come up here? He can have my room obviously,” 

“Why would he need that?” You snorted, “He’s staying on the rig for Christmas-” Uh. Oops. 

Brown eyes flared with anger, “What? You didn’t tell me that!”

“I-I” You were at a loss, desperate to avoid what was obviously hurtling your way, “I didn’t wanna be a downer on all the cool plans, I was just gonna relax alone or whatever,” Lame excuse, loser. 

“You’re coming to ours,” Mel said, decided, waving away all of your protests like one would swat a fly. Somehow she was already calling her mother, telling her to expect another guest for Christmas. The stress of heating was the final straw on a decrepit, twitching camel. 

Had you died? Were you in Hell? 

That’s what the Land Rover felt like, speeding through endless countryside as she sang Christmas Wrapping for the ninth time. You felt almost outside your body, about to reunite with a part of yourself you’d allowed to die. Mel had chewed you out for the first hour of the journey about being an idiot, about upsetting her by not just asking to stay. I know it was awesome in the summer, she had whined, you’re not like a burden or anything. 

Rolling up the driveway felt like that moment on a rollercoaster just before the adrenaline floods you. Your stomach turns, you feel the wind and feel how high up you are, seeking an out you know isn’t there. Then the ride drops, hurtles down the track and you’re too overwhelmed to think much of anything at all. Ambessa standing, cashmere jumper and longer curls, against the door waiting to greet you both was your drop. Blank, hot nothingness. 

“Darlings,” She cried, lips as crimson as ever. 

She stepped forward, throwing her arms around both of you and you thought you might die. You hated her. Her smirk showed she could tell, though it wasn’t as firmly fixed as usual. Sunrays, squinting eyes and that smirk as she ate a slice of watermelon. Shut Up.

A small dinner was already ready, a weathered looking Kino dishing up portions. His greeting was warm but distracted. 

“Mum’s had me hauling all the trees into place,” He grumbled, passing you a bowl of stew, “because of course it couldn’t wait until the precious princesses arrived to help,”

Gods you’d missed him. “You think I’m a princess Kino? I’m touched,” 

Mel forced you into your chair, snorting at her brother, “Would you believe this idiot was going to stay at uni all by herself?”

You didn’t feel like an idiot, you felt like a prey animal fleeing one predator to sprint into the den of another. 

Ambessa interjected then, “Yes, what’s this I hear about broken heating?” 

It was an innocent and very valid question from the woman hosting you. She needed to shut the fuck up. “Uh, our terraced house was still using its system from the 60s and it finally died,” You said, instead of telling her the former, “Dad’s on the rig and can’t get anyone to fix it sooner than January,” 

“We’ll have you for the whole festive period then,” Ambessa said, tone calm as she sent you a smile. It was indifferent and kind, in the same way she had been those first days of the summer. It rocked you, eating some of the adrenaline and replacing it with tears that glazed embarrassingly for a second. Long enough for her to see, but with enough control to spare you from Mel. 

 Five weeks of being in Medarda Central, playing happy families, “If that’s okay,”. 

“We’re so happy to have you, Dear,” 

Bitch. “Thank you, Ambessa,” 

That evening was like a dream, stuck behind the screens of a nightmare. Three large christmas trees to decorate, a tradition apparently, with mulled wine and gingerbread. Everything was beautiful, and to your surprise each ‘child’ was given a tree. The larger one in the foyer was put up on November 21st every year by Ambessa, Mel told you, but the Medarda siblings and Mina each got their own tree to decorate once everyone was home. 

You had been given Mina’s with a snort from Ambessa, who was supposedly happy to have someone else take on the ‘lazy demon’s workload’. It felt nice, for a moment, as you stared down at the fluff ball who seemed to have accepted you as a guest. This was a new thing and if you closed your eyes and breathed out of your armpit no memories appeared. You decorated methodically, using some of Mina’s and some spare that had been assembled for you. A perfect evening, with your best friend and her stupid big brother. And their sexy, evil, confusing mother. 

Like you thought, a dream to nightmare pipeline. A trend you saw continuing for the rest of the holiday. It ended with watching The Grinch, something you had never seen. Jim Carrey was unusual and Martha May was disturbingly attractive, but that’s all you really gained, too busy ignoring Ambessa’s joking gaze. Did she think you were crazy? That you wanted to spend this holiday being fucked about by her too? Mel’s head on your shoulder grounded you, saved you from the turbulence of her.

It caught you once, entirely by accident, and your head began to swim. Golden swirls, tender and amused. She looked more beautiful somehow, finally victorious in getting your attention as she raised a brow. Your neck mottled red as anxious teeth crushed against one another. Rough hands stroking your cheek, kissing your sleepy eyelids as you ignored the film that followed Trading Places. This place was haunted and you realised that you were just another ghost. Kino went to bed first and unlike a few months ago, you were determined not to be a straggler. You got your water and tea whilst Mel spoke to her Mum about the upcoming Carol Concert you were supposed to be attending. 

“Night,” You said, voice soft, as she nodded to them. 

“Oh,” Mel said, “Bit early for you, isn’t it?”

“Long day,” A smile, “See you in the morning,” 

“Nice to have you back, well done with the Tree today,” Ambessa’s silky tone drifted, “Sleep well Sweetheart,” 

That was a new one and it caused no reaction at all. Your hand was trembling because the tea was hot, that was all. Your body shook from the exhaustion in the spare room, lip wet and trembling, because the journey was long and you missed your Dad. You could not feel her phantom touches brushing the tears away, it was simply the wind.

Ten days of Christmas festivities passed and it did not get any easier. No matter when you woke, she still somehow had your tea ready for you. You’d hoped initially that it was Rictus, the man you had come to know slightly better than in the warmer months, but alas he hadn’t a clue what you were on about. Those eyes, hypnotic and cruel, still attempted to lure you in each day. Hands lingered, bodies closer than needed as you passed in corridors or sat on the same sofa. 

One day you boiled over, alone in the kitchen with her as she sorted through recipes. 

“Will you knock it off?” 

“Hmm?”

“Don’t hum at me,” You snapped, hands clenching your mug, horror clenching your heart, “T-The touching and the looks, stop it,” 

Ambessa laughed, pushing her glasses onto her head as she fixed you with a look, “Didn’t seem to mind it a couple of months ago, Sweet Girl,” 

“A couple of months ago I was a fool,” A stuttered breath, half stuck and bubbling, “Mel’s my priority, I love her and this fucked up thing would hurt her, so stop it,” 

Ambessa’s look changed into something you couldn’t understand, eyes pensive and face blank. She nodded once, head tilted to scan you. Was it respect? Surely not, she barely saw you as a full person. 

“Okay,” Her tone was measured, “I can work with that,” 

It relieved you, the thick, invisible smog circling overhead finally beginning to clear. You didn't trust her intentions towards you, but you could trust them towards Mel. The tremors and the cries slowed slightly, your sleep troubled but not totally absent. 

Something new formed, something you could just about stomach. It was just as if she was your best friend’s mum, hosting you for the holidays, with jokes and motherly pats. She had never known the taste of your lips, you had never nestled your head between her thighs, never shared an overly fond look over her daughter’s head. It was easier this way, you promised yourself in the dead of night as you tossed from side to side. You’d spent so little time actually in this bed, that now it seemed as foreign to you as the woman who occupied the other. Her eyes still stayed on you from time to time, but it was insignificant now. 

Did you prefer that? Was this better? 

All Ambessa knew was that she did not like this change. Not one bit. She was unsure of how to process you coming back. You were a nice enough girl, an excellent fuck and actually funny to be around. You made Mel happy, which made her happy, but you had gotten a little too attached. She had avoided you since then for that reason, the thoughts of you that drifted through easy to push away. That being said, she missed you sprawled in her bed babbling nonsense as she ruined you. You were a pest, lingering around her thoughts and she was unsure of how to proceed. She seemed to regain one part of you, sarcastic and passionate, at the expense of any and all private access to you. It irked her, though she would not admit it, that you had called it before she had. Guilt sat heavy in her stomach, mixing with something else as she remembered your aggressive devotion to her daughter. Parts of you, buried, now resurfaced for her. How you took your tea, which hand would brush back hair behind your ear, in which order you would put your socks and shoes on. Tiny, minute details. She glanced at you, licking up cream on a hot chocolate and saw images of a similar kind, your pretty crinkled eyes eating an ice cream as you gazed at her across the sunlounger. 

Ambessa Medarda could not wait for you to get the hell out of her house. 

How ironic, considering you finally felt you were flowing into the new rhythm. 

She wasn’t scary, she had no power. Other than the fact that this was, you know, her house. You shared tea, read together, joked and laughed. You only looked at her lips every now and again, a natural thing. You looked at Mel’s lips sometimes. Yeah. Her nicknames only caused nausea, not an actual gag to choke you. Plus you were distracted half the time by Kino and Mel. Frockiling about in London, seeing a show or wandering through museums, it was endless. Somehow you had done more in the first two weeks here than most of the summer, mind frazzled by Christmas joy. The best part was that on December 17th it started to snow and showed no signs of stopping. A true winter wonderland. 

The only other distinct change from the summer was the shiny new vibrator in your bedside drawer. You still had needs, for god sake and the distraction should help. Nothing would satiate the burn like she did, but you tried not to think about that once you realised it was her you pictured to send yourself over the edge. Oops. 

Ambessa, restless and frustrated, strolled down the corridor in the dead of night. Each door zipped past until a grunt startled her into stillness. It was from behind your door and a flare of worry resounded in her at the pained sound. Against her better judgement, her fist rose to knock on the wood when she heard it again. Clearer now, louder. Not pain, her mind roared, it was a cry of pleasure. Pleased little pants and gasps travelled to her ears, turning her thoughts to molten nothingness. She had uncharacteristically avoided sex for the past few weeks, and this was enough for her to tumble over the edge. Leaning against the wall, breath silent, she gulped. This was ridiculous, wrong and crazy and reckless. She was in the hallway for christ’s sake. Still, with chaotic urgency, her hand slipped beneath her trousers as she caressed her neglected clit. 

You lay, legs wide and twitching, pleasuring yourself in bed totally unaware of your desperate audience. Tonight had been tougher on your resilience, her dress was so simple and yet it hugged her in a way that made you think of flowing water. Water led you to thinking of the pool and suddenly you were smacked with images of her naked swimming. It was too good to ignore, already halfway down the hot spiral your body craved, teeth bruising plump lips. Head thrown back, you began to keen and mewl, the toy pushing you into mindlessness, each gentle buzz pulling a whine. 

Ambessa was almost nonsensical, unable to battle for her ironclad control as your noises had her frantically chasing release. You had haunted her for days, flushed cheeks and snide comments, as if nothing had ever happened. You essentially ignored any heat from her and it was maddening. She wanted to fuck you into the mattress you lay on now, the image making her eyes roll slightly. The final straw, shooting her into a shaking climax, was a sudden, bursting whimper of her name from your lips. 

You hadn’t meant to, rocking yourself against this thick rabbit, but the image of her was so clear and you wanted it so bad, craved it. You cried out for her, as you had so many times before. Everything sang, bright and harsh, as you went limp. 

She was much the same, choking her gasps back as her knees shook slightly. Finally some relief, her thoughts able to order themselves slightly. She did not, however, like the form they took. You, temptress and forbidden fruit, carved a home in her head she could not fill with anything else. 

This was a mess. She was a mess. You were a problem. 

Ambessa found herself bundling up, rambling at Rictus about almost everything as she prepared to check the lake, to see if it was ready for skating. He took it well, he was trusted for a reason. There was a merry glint in those eyes, a knowing of his Mistress. Something was wrong, was grating on her and he believed that something had a name and sparkly, open eyes. 

“Need anything else?” Rictus asked, passing her the mug of coffee so she could finish it, “I’ll sort out whatever part of your wardrobe Mina has mutilated and then start wrapping the kids gifts,” 

“Fantastic,” Distracted, dismissive, till her shoulders tensed, “Did you get anything for her?” 

He remained neutral, “Did you want me to?” 

A pregnant pause, stormy eyes, “I-Uh yes, I’ll send you a list,” 

As if her house had become a prison, she smacked into you just as she wandered outside. You stood, fluffy coat and thick scarf, staring mystified at the white landscape.

“I’m sorry,” It was a squeak, mind haunted by your enjoyment last night. 

“No, no,” She said, “That was my fault,” 

“What,” A swallow, as you met her eyes with passiveness, “Where are you off to?”

“The lake,” She grunted, “See if it’s ready,” 

“Ready?” 

“For skating,” 

Your mind exploded with excitement, never having even considered this as a possibility, lips betraying you, “Oh my god really, can I come?”

Your childlike wonder clawed at her lungs, posture softening, smile tugged forward unbidden, “If you’re careful, and do as I say,” 

That was how you’d ended up watching Ambessa Medarda check this huge lake with military precision. You hadn’t visited it much in the summer, it was a fifteen minute walk through the woods so in the heat the pool was the obvious preference. Now though? It was a magical, entrancing grove that you giddy with joy. It was almost like it didn’t matter that it was her, that this was the longest you’d spent alone since August. 

“Well,” Ambessa called, “Looks perfect to me,” 

To your surprise, she removed two pairs of skates from her bag and chucked one at you, leaning against a large Yew tree to put her own on. 

You didn’t know she knew to bring a second pair and it flared suspicion in you, “Why do you have these?” 

“They’re Mel’s, Sweetheart,” She answered, amusement tickling her cheeks, “Didn’t realise they were still in there, you’re the same shoe size,” 

Oh. Okay. That still didn’t solve the issue that you had no idea how to skate, and you said as much. 

Ambessa could feel, as intimately as the danger of an oncoming bullet, that this would not end well. The offer left her lips all the same. She could teach you, it was Christmas tradition and Mel would end up dragging you here the second she found out it was ready. 

She was a good teacher, patient and calm, with a habit of everexcessive praise and degradation intermingling. You were being a twat when gaining momentum, but did turning very well Darling. It felt unreal, distant from the dull ache she had placed in your heart, as acceptance slotted further into your bones. 

Soaring like an injured bird, she watched you. Round and round you moved, grace slow to arrive but firm in staying, as her eyes stung. She couldn’t understand why, breath quick, as she coughed into gloved hands. The pressure built the more you moved and Ambessa nibbled her lip in contemplation. 

“Oh my god, it’s ready,” Kino’s loud shriek saved his mother from further emotional introspection, “MEL. MEL. Come Skate,” 

The Medarda siblings joined you, both skilled and dangerously competitive, forcing Ambessa to tug you left and right across the ice to avoid their thundering. 

In short, it was the best day yet and that night you could sleep without a cry or an orgasm to force you. Christmas might actually be salvageable. 

Another party. You’d joked to Mel that she really was the perfect upper class stereotype with a pool and horses you had avoided out of immense fear, with all her time spent getting drunk and talking about all the things she’d done. Mel was a bit offended, which made your assessment all the funnier, gold lips pouting. This one was very intimate, you’d know everyone there and it was more just a chance to see everyone before Christmas Day.It was just the Medardas and you on the big day, their first year having another person due to Ambessa’s usual strictness that it was only family. That was like a lobster slap to the face, making you feel special and like a burden all at once. 

Somehow you were crucial in planning yet again, Mel too busy seeing old friends before they went away and Kino refusing to engage. He’d done his bit for the year with Ambessa’s birthday, he stubbornly replied, hiding himself away in the library with Mina. 

That was how you found yourself in the kitchen, at the breakfast table expending half your energy to a Chess Game with Rictus and the other to being a food tester. 

“Don’t like cranberry sauce,” You grimaced at her offering, Rook takes Knight “That one’s for him,” 

“I don’t either,” Bishop takes Rook, his gruff smile making you laugh in kind. 

“What’s the point of you then?” Ambessa snapped, eating the canape herself. 

“Idle decoration?” “Part of the furniture?” You responded the same time as Rictus, giggles hidden by an insincere hand.

The three of you powered through the Everest of washing up she had created, humming to the radio and thinking up the worst Christmas cracker jokes we’d heard over the years. You were on drying duty initially, till it proved you hadn’t got a clue where anything lived. 

“Didn’t you live here for three months?” He mocked, reordering the baking trays. 

“She didn’t cook once in that time,” Ambessa sighed, “Some people just take and take and take,” 

It was a joke, but it made you angry and the plate hit the water with more force than you could control. Soapy, lukewarm water crashed against both you and Ambessa, leaving you incredulous and her as still as a statue. 

“Well,” Rictus said, warm presence cutting through the tension, “Off you both go to change, it’s enough for me to finish alone anyway,” 

You both rushed down the corridor, and you felt yourself lurch as something reminiscent of the echo of an apology left her lips. You waved it away, eyes stinging as you slammed the door and curled under the duvet. 

Everything was fine. Everything was good. You were friends now and you didn’t love her at all and you weren’t fuelled most by her laugh, her approval, her existence. You fell asleep with a wet stomach, melancholic music echoing in your head as you ended up back on that dreamlike lake. 

The day arrived, December 22nd and you felt weird nauseous butterflies. Things had backtracked a bit since the washing up, but you were determined to drag yourself forward. 

Everything shone, the powerhouse of a small country fuelling the lights and decorations as Mel sat crisscrossed on her bed, painting you like one of her canvases. 

“This feels like a lot,” You said, yawning, “Everyone coming already knows what I look like,” 

She smacked your arm lightly, “It’s Christmas, live a little,” 

“I’m already living a lot thank you, you’ve got me in heels and spanx,” You flicked the snap to emphasise your point, moving your lips to hinder her lipstick application. 

“Brat,” She gripped your chin, keeping you steady as her face lit up, “There you look like an angel now,” 

You did, Your hair was shiny and curled, your face a painted marvel of Mel’s imagination and one of her white and gold dresses clung to you, highlighting everything you had ever been blessed with. Your eyes burned. A click smashed through your thoughts, the film camera flash capturing you forever, awestruck at yourself and grateful for your best friend. 

Joy came easy here, her presence diluted by people you had come to love, as you slipped through the small crowd, challenging Viktor to a sober chess rematch. You didn’t win, but neither did he, and with a stalemate reached you gobbled up Ambessa’s admittedly perfect food parcels. Rictus seemed to circle back to you more often than anyone else, smirk on his face, a silent comradery. 

The record player was soothing, champagne and eggnog mixing to make an odd sensation in your stomach as Kino twirled you around. 

“I’m glad Mel has you,” He mutters against your ear, “She’s needed a friend to ground her,”

Everything spun weirdly, the compliment ironic as you nodded roughly, “I love her, she’s the best, and hey, you’re not too bad either,”

He laughed, twirling you a final time, “Always the charmer, Princess,” 

Chaos devolved, as it always did with this group of friends, the snow too tempting a siren. You’d actually been having a coherent conversation with Ambessa and Cassandra Kiramman about your thesis progress, eyes only slightly hazy with booze, when you were hauled away by Jayce and VI. A snowball fight on the patio had erupted, bodies numb to the cold as their skin was heated by alcohol, violent throws and crashing dodges. No true adult participated, though some watched fondly, as Rictus recorded the whole thing on an old camcorder, another Medarda tradition apparently. 

Ambessa trailed the scene, heart warm at the sight. She loved her children, loved the people they had become even if sometimes they seemed alien to her, more gentle and considerate than she considered possible. Their friends were a great reflection of them, loud and eclectic, with the loyalty of a wolf pack. You flitted about like a golden mote of light, drawing her eye more than she wished. That dress was sinful, you filled it in a way that made her ache, makeup turning your eyes into deep pools in wish she lost her senses. She knew nothing about your thesis, though Cassandra seemed to have continued that conversation with her as you were dragged away. This was becoming impractical, her body not her own. She retreated to the kitchen under the pretense of refills. 

You bowed out early, freezing your tits off was fun until it wasn’t and you were less agile than the others. Beelinging for the kitchen, desperate for tea and to choke down more canapes, your cold skin smashed against a warm, firm wall. 

She was beautiful tonight, as always. Resplendent and controlling, wielding her space perfectly. Braids and curls intermingled to frame her angular face, statement birthday necklace in place with matching earrings, as long lashes fluttered. It was the most stuck you’d felt since coming back to the house, an aura so similar to that first barbeque, that you’d almost slipped and made an inappropriate joke. 

Your damp, snow soaked curls stuck your face as you stood inches from her, the kitchen silent save for your mingled breath. 

“Good party,” You crooked, frozen in face. 

“Yes,” She responded in kind, “A success I think,” 

“I-I just wanted another salmon tart thing,” 

She placed one in your hand, eyes widening, as she gripped your bare shoulder “You’re freezing,  Sweet girl,” 

Sweet Girl the tipsy, happy haze called. You nodded, “Was in the snow,”

She could warm you up, her sly and corrupted mind cried, thoughts blank as your innocent, devil eyes captured her body and perhaps even soul. She moved thoughtlessly, a gentle ringed hand tilting your chin as her dark lips crushed against yours. 

Euphoria. You were in heaven, succumbing hungrily to the kiss, lungs starved of oxygen for four months. No logic here, no reason or doubt. Only her firm guiding embrace, and warm tongue. Ambessa Medarda was an evil, perfect woman and you could not escape her. 

Dizzy, drunk in more ways than one, you pushed her off gently. It took everything in you, salmon tart crushed to nothing on the ground as you gulped. 

Her inability to treat you a person was not why you’d stopped this, though if you respected yourself it should have been, it was because of Mel. 

“This isnt-” 

“Oh my fucking god,” It was shrill, whispered and bitter, your heart dropping out of your ass, ”No, you haven’t done this to me Mum, not again,”

Speak of the devil.

[jinxvex]

♱˚⁺19 | she/her | wlw ⚢ | black | nsfw /fanfic blog!! ˚₊‧♱

hey lol! been lurking for years + now i've decided to write

started: november 30th, 2024

INTERESTS: alternative styles/fashion, tv shows/media, dance, art, k-pop, video games, editing, reading/writing (obv), social sciences, music, + more!

FAV SHOWS/MEDIA: tvd, pll, arcane, twd, tlou, the boys/gen v, stranger things, twd (game), lis (life is strange), until dawn, the quarry, etc!!

WRITING FOR: arcane, tlou, + more??

WRITING FOR (who?): sevika, vi, jinx, caitlyn, mel, ellie, abby + i'm open to more. my requests are open and i love a challenge!

RULES/REQ RULES: j vibe ꈍ ꈍ + i do take (some) requests! send 'em over! it may take time to write, though. i do ask that you guys specify whether you want your request to be sfw, nsfw, or both! + whether it should be short or long.

(will update as i write more!) masterlist! ↓

sevika

♱ possessive!sevika x bartender!reader (drabble + nsfw)

♱ gf!sevika (established relationship) headcanons!! (hc's + sfw/nsfw)

♱ gf!sevika comforting you through a migraine!! (drabble + sfw)

♱ casual dominance w/ gf!sevika headcanons!! (hc's + sfw/nsfw)

♱ enemy. (enemy!sevika x reader) (oneshot + nsfw)

♱ councilor!sevika x gf!reader (rough day @ work) (coming soon..)

♱ fitness trainer!sevika x beginner!reader (coming soon...)

♱ gf!sevika x doting (affectionate)!reader (coming soon...)

violet

♱ gf!vi x daydreamy gf!reader (hc's + sfw/nsfw)

jinx

♱ gf!jinx x doting (affectionate)!reader (oneshot + sfw/nsfw)

caitlyn

mel

ellie

abby

misc. 𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒 (soon)

thank you! enjoy! + leave feedback ❧ (edited 12/31/24)

[evieelyzabethh]

hiii i was wondering if you could do platonic Mel x reader headcanons? (like theyre friends and reader is on the council???)

thank youu and have a lovely day💗

omggg thank you! i always worry that everyone skips the mel sections. there is not nearly enough love for her, and she is literally my fav character

Contrary to popular belief, Mel is not a cold person in the slightest. She is certainly a bit hesitant to affection and softness, but it isn't unwelcome. When she first arrived in Piltover, freshly cast out by her own mother for her aversion to violence, she is very off balance. You don't become the richest person in Piltover in such a short period of time by being friendly, wealth is won through strategic kindness and an ability to play the long game.

It would be hard to crack that exterior at first, partially because she expects that everyone else is playing the same game she is. She thinks that the friendship is less soft and more professionally symbiotic. You scratch her back, she scratches yours kinda thing. And it's no reflection of who she thinks you are, she's not even aiming to form any personal judgements or get to know you outside of work, but politics is a performance. How genuinely you play your role is of little importance to her, as long as it benefits you both.

This being said, you are far more tolerable than the rest of them. Besides actually being her age, she respects the approach you have, you are always forthright with your goals, even if the plans you have to achieve them are under the table. You're consistent and she appreciates this. Though she understands the charade of smiles and civility, she knows that most of these people don't care about much other than keeping things exactly the way they are.

Early on in her journey in Piltover she doesn't care much about the fate of the Zaunites, this isn't her home, and that instability is one she is largely ignorant to and doesn't believe it's her responsibility to fix. She does want change. Is this desire to make waves to prove a point to her mother overseas, initially yes, but the point still stands that she wants to do something. That may be what she likes about you most. Not only that you want change, but you want it for yourself. You are here to represent your family, but you are so much more than a name. She admires that you want a legacy of your own, that your morals are your own, that your goals work toward a vision that you dreamt.

While she has Elora to remind her of home, she has you to help build her future in Piltover and figure out what she actually wants. As she warms up to you, you have somewhat of a mentor/apprentice type relationship, though far less formal. Besides teaching her of the culture, what happens in the Undercity, and your personal thoughts and opinions on the cycles of violence, you learn about Noxus. You learn about all the places she'd want to take you to, the difference in politics, how much more aggressive it is.

Mel is someone who usually keeps a calm and cool exterior but being friends with you allows her to break it down. Especially after days where she begins to wonder what she's even doing here, days where she just feels like a pawn still being moved around the board by her mother. She's good at the politics, but it's tiresome, still having to constantly play by someone else's rules. It dawns on her when you are the only person she can think of while sobbing alone in her all to big room that maybe you aren't just some work acquaintance.

Now that the very long introduction is out of the way, Mel is such a hugger. She is very physically affectionate; it's her way of catching up on all she missed out with her mom. She's the type to cradle your head in her hands and rub your back

She is also the 'break up with your boyfriend' friend. If your partner is not giving you what you deserve, she really doesn't see the point in continuing the relationship. She is truly baffled by the excuse 'but we've been together for x years, I can't leave them'. YES YOU CAN! AND YOU SHOULD! People are replaceable, she does not believe in remaining in the company of those you don't like, especially if it doesn't benefit you.

She was also robbed of a traditional sort of girlhood, so she adores those kinds of hangouts. So many sleepovers, except instead of junk food and soda, its wine and fancy charcuterie boards. Self-care nights involve super expensive skincare and a terrible movie playing. If you two get drunk enough, you may even get into a pillow fight and leave the room covered in down feathers and empty satin pillow covers.

Assuming she's still dating Jayce, you definitely know a bit too much about him. It's very hard looking him in the eye after being told about the time she caught him shirtless in a stupid pair of heart covered boxers.

She gifted you one of her paintings for your birthday one year and almost cried when you started crying. Her art was always more of a hobby to air out her big emotions and her heart practically bursts with happiness every time you enter a room. You hang it right over your bed for protection in your dreams and it makes her beam with pride that you love it so much.

She is also such a good gift giver in general. I think she'd be super into journaling and would have like a million of those things, one of them dedicated to her friends and their interests.

Speaking of her journals, I think she'd have one for different goals. For example, one for all the books she wants to read for the year and dedicated pages to rank them and give her opinions. Maybe one for all the places she wants to visit one day. You two would totally swap books and have a friendly competition with your reading goals

[mochimochimona]

Analyizing Viktor and Jayce from Arcane, S1 E5 Part Two - Am I ruining this ship for me or what

So Viktor being a genuis because he had "a vision" and just explains how runes and mages work and is that..foreshadowing again? Like how did he got these informations? It would have been nice to have a bit more context, because with that scene from the previous post I might get my tinfoil hat back. Anyway, Viktor is mansplaining Jayce and here is the first thing I noticed, the fond and admiring expression on Jayce's face:

Again, that can be completly platonic still. Am I ruining this ship for me now or what?

Viktors absolutly unfazed reaction makes me laugh so much, god I love this man.

But I think there was a first impulse of reaching out to Viktor, just a short tilt of his hand - to make sure Viktor is alright. And his Question "Are You Sure This is safe" was met by a rather cold "of course not" by Viktor and Jayce is reacting like that and I had to make a GIF out of this scene or else I can't explain what I mean.

So Jayce is staring at Viktor, and he feels guilt and I think he wants to say something but he is also unsure of what exactly to say, because he knows Viktor is right and also has the right to be cold towards Jayce, since he is leaving him alone. I think it dawns on him, unconsiously, that what he is doing is wrong and it's nagging at him. So far no interpretation from my side that Jayce is into Viktor the same way Viktor might be into him, though. I am on the way to ruin my delusion.

Mel is such a strong politican, I love her for her cunning way to get Jayce on her side and manipulating him. Again, Mel is one of my fav Chars in Arcane but I do think they don't have either an equal relationship, nor a deep one at that. It feels rather cold to me.

"You pushed this on me". I think it's nice to see he is struggling and not wanting this, but Mel is REALLY good. Girl you slay queen!

Here he looses his inner battle against playing the politican, the struggle was made so clear and was well portrayed, you could feel it!

Foreshadowing at it's best: "There's been quite the investements" - and Mel said "Indeed, better than expected" - Do you remember Jayce accusing Mel of treating him and Viktor as investements? ohhh what a nice foreshadowing! And here it is made clear that Mel is using Jayce for her own goals. Love myself a good, calculated politican!

Well he does look at Mel adoringly. This scene is also important. Because she makes a move on him, and he says "I couldn't have done it without you"

Wait, that actually makes me mad. He couldn't have done SHIT without Viktor. You asshole, Jayce!

And now comes the most heartwrenching scene I have ever seen in my live. Given the feeling of me that Viktor has feelings for Jayce (we can argue which, can't we?) making the deliberate choice to show us Jayce and Mel doing bed gymnastics (sorry I am german, it's a way of saying here lol) and parrallel Viktor collapsing? This is INTENTIONAL. They wanted us to show what Jayce chose and did not choose. What would have been important and what shouldn't have been important. It is quite the foreshadowing, too, because Jayce will regret his actions - which is a topic on it's own.

The fact, that they put Sky in this scene makes it even more obvious or sus, as you may say, because if you wanted to show us that Jayce did choose poorly it would have been enough to show Viktor alone in his study the whole time, and not with Sky approaching and making moves onto Viktor.

Foreshadowing again with Sky saying "There is always tomorrow, right". rip haha.

Viktor is comepletly uninterested in her, romantically speaking. I think it's not because he doesn't get her advances. I think saying her name "goodnight luisanne(?)" makes it clear they do have some kind of relationship. Her implying "again" makes me think she asked many times and this wording from Viktor is his attempt of being polite and respectful, but drawing boundaries for himself.

Him getting angry, throwing the papers around is a stark contrast to his usual composed nature, I think it's a nice way to show how deperate he is because he KNOWS he doesn't have much time anymore. He gets fainty again and hears voices and sounds, which is again really interesting because there is no shimmer corruption in this situation. So what is that sound? Who is it? IS IT HIMSELF?

Again he coughes blood and I think there are two different kinds of runes in this: the one without the corruption of the void/shimmer and the one with, which is making him go bonkers I guess. Because I have the feeling the old Viktor is actually a mage and using only the runes, not the void. Which doesn't make it any less dangerous but you get what I am saying. I hope.

Him going down and fast cut to Mel and Jayce, who are making out WITH A GALAXY BACKGROUND?????? Wait what AM I SEEING. This is deliberate, intentional again, I don't think the smashing is that good she sees stars lolkek.

Maybe I am interpreting way too much into it, but is that a parrallell to the scene in which Viktor and Jayce are connected in the astral plane (or whatever)? I am weezing.

Also what I do find interesting and I don't have an idea why they choose to frame it like this: The Hexcore absorbed Viktors blood and we can see it travel through it, kinda melting together with the hexcore-DNA while you see a sillouette of Mel (why not Jayce, am I asking?). I am not sure what to make out of that. It could be a metaphor for connection. Like Viktor connected to the hexcore and Mel with Jayce, but it was weird to not see more of Jayce, you know? like why were we so focused on Mel here? Is that a foreshadowing that Mel is a mage, but that won't make any sense to me. And I am asking, because I am here for discussion: Why using this cutting, this parallel scenes? Why do you show us this, anyway? You could have implied them having smash-time, but you intentionally put those two things next to each other. Did you wanted to make us angry because Jayce was hooking up but he should have been with Viktor the whole time! That's absolutly implying you think we think bros before hoes! But that's just a saying, I do think everyone goes for the hoe at some point (respectfully, of course). I am getting a headache, this scene made me mad honestly. I was so hurting for Viktor, he was so alone. And when Mel wakes up, she looks a bit pissed that Jayce is gone, honestly lmao. But not in a way like she is disappointing because she wanted to cuddle, but because I guess she thought she had Jayce by his balls or something (well she did).

The cut to Viktor laying on the hospital bed and Jayce shaking and whipping his leg IS A MASTERPIECE. And honestly, the feeling creeps in...like why do that cut? Why stay on Mel and transition to Viktor in the same camera angle. Do you want to tell us something? You could have done a camera angle from the side, showing us Jayce being panicky if you wanted to show us that, but we get this parallel. This is sus, not gonna lie.

So, @stardust-musings provided me a link with a deleted scene where Jayce was wiping away his crying, if you want to see that, here: https://www.tumblr.com/stardust-musings/767415218102059008?source=share

We discussed that Jayce definetly has a lot of affection for Viktor, which one can be argued with but I do think his reaction in general is really important here, though the crying wouldn't only have IMPLIED Viktor is really important to him but made it clear, because he had an open and really vulnerable reaction here. So with that in mind, his actions coming might him be struggling to find out what Viktor really is to him, because as stated above, this gives off mixed signals. I get you can cry about you "brother/hombie" being in a hospital and dying, given the deep relationship as friends. I think this shot is important to make it clear that the love is there, but what love can be interpreted still and Jayce is figuring it out himself.

And there it is, we have regret showing! Honestly, I do get why you chase to your best friend if he is in a hospital and you get the message. But guilt? Regret? Doubt? Panic? Devastation? Realtalk here because I think this is important: As someone who has had a lot of people in the hospital on the deathbed and so on, I don't think anyone will rush to their bro and leaving their spouse behind (and she didn't even know what was up), without like waking them up and telling them what's up, ya know. You may be panicing, but you are connected to your partner and I think you will share this information and trying to get comfort FIRST (not after you visited). So I would explain to my partner what's up and my partner would come visit with me, too, because I care for my friend but I also care for my spouse, ya know. Him leaving Mel who he slept with the night before because his friend was brought into hospital is really rushed and I think he has a deep connection with Viktor and cares about him a lot, so much so, that he doesn't care who he slept with, because he is more important. But I do think Jayce still is not in love with Viktor. Yet? But it makes no sense to leave Mel there, I mean she knows Viktor too and if you have a connection, you would at least wake her up. Even if it's in the middle of the night. So this is confusing, I have to think about it more. Your thoughts are appreciated. Also sorry for any misspellings, I am tired.

It makes sense he left Mel, because she would have seen him breaking down over his friend and maybe he didn't want to be vulnerable in fron of Mel and Viktor, because he tried to kept his panic together. But again, I find it interesting how they telled us this with these scenes. They wanted to imply, I am sure of it, the first time that Jayce always chooses Viktor. Which is, honestly, a love letter on it's own tbh.

That was Part Two, I will continue tomorrow! I am obsessed with this now lol