#save me Mel medarda

[melatonindeficient]

live laugh love mel

"Mel manipulated jayce" yeah you fucker she's a politician.

Mel isn't telling people what to or what not to think or convincing them to make drastic changes to their lives or personalities in order to bend them to her will. She just knew how to appeal to certain interests in order to achieve a goal. Jayce is an honest and sincere person—say what you want about her, but she was honest and sincere to him as well.

Not only that but she was a politician brought up by a narcissist who quite apparently skewed her perception of what relationships should look like so can we be so fucking for real.

Mel saw an opportunity for some sort of positive change and improvement and took it, and along the way she softened and began to actually love jayce. She didn't have to hold on to him any longer than season one. Hell, as smart as she is if she really didn't want to embark on a romantic relationship with him, she probably wouldn't have had to. And dude, jayce talis might beat naïve but he also performed illegal operations in his apartment and performed immense scientific feats by the skin of his teeth. It's not like he just sat there without a thought in his head while him and mel first interacted.

And it never sat right with me that one can be so quick to call Mel a manipulator for wanting to use Jayce's knowledge to create hextech weapons while ignoring that that logic makes Viktor a manipulator in joining forces with Jayce to advance his own search for personal perfectability. I mean, they're parallels for a reason. And it doesn't seem so at first--because they worked as partners in the lab, but Viktor knew he couldn't do that without what Jayce knew, and he couldn't make the most of what Jayce knew without getting close--but Jayce and Viktor's lofty ideals of progress prove that they are flawed once the two of them begin to start working separately for different goals (as Jayce creates a hextech weapon and Viktor insists they must stop).

And in the end, who's the one who uses Jayce's knowledge for worse rather than better? Vik.

In addition, I saw a comment somewhere saying that when she met Ambessa again (in season 1) she realised that she didn't want to continue the cycle of transactional, manipulative relationships which her mother started and began to try and change in the way she viewed relationships, and in turn in the way she loved, and that's so fucking true like holy shit.

Jinx's projection of Silco says that "the cycle only ends when you walk away" at the very end of season 2, but Mel breaks her cycle far before she has her final encounter with her mother in episode nine of season two. No, Mel broke her cycle when she realized she didn't want to do to her great love what her mother did to her. When Ambessa tried to sink her teeth into Jayce.

(Meljay is my endgame I scream as they drag me to my enclosure)

[guardianbee]

Hi everyone I came back because Arcane S2 treated my girls Mel & Sky like absolute GARBAGE and then Ekko is rewarded with absolutely NOTHING for saving everyone from themselves and I'm here to reblog shit AND talk shit about it.

I mean, I cannot BELIEVE the disposable black girlfriend trope was used TWICE in a show within TWO episodes of one another, oh my GOD. I cannot BELIEVE they had Jayce verbatim spew out the same anti-Mel talking points this fandom has had since Season 1 Act 1 Episode 1. I cannot BELIEVE they had Sky comfort Vik the same way Mel comforted Jayce in S1, had her be his emotional rock through all his changes with the hexcore only for him to kill her a SECOND TIME. I cannot BELIEVE how little screentime Ekko had this season given how pivotal he is to Jinx and Vi's backstories AND his overall importance to the main plotline (which was totally sidelined in the last act, wtf).

Like what the fuck black characters can't have anything lol, lmao even.

[miraofhearts2point0]

i still havent processed how insane ep5 is.

like wdym Caitlyn frees Vi from the prison she's been in for YEARS. wdym Jinx almost beats Vi's high score. wdym Vi calls Caitlyn hot. wdym Caitlyn agrees to pretend to work in the brothel. wdym SEVIKA is a regular at said brothel (!!!!!!!!) wdym Jayce and Mel's sex scene is framed as Jayce cheating on Viktor. wdym we get the Jinx baptism scene. wdym Imagine Dragons is a canonical band in the Arcane universe. wdym Sevika's cards forshadowed Viktor's transformation. wdym Viktor is dying and again, is framed like Jayce cheated on him. wdym Sevika/Vi fight (butches save me save me butch lesbians). wdym Sevika hip reveal. WDYM CAITLYN SAVED VI A SECOND TIME.

[stealingpotatoes]

Mel Medarda

you agree

I DO AGREE!!! I AGREE WHOLEHEARTEDLY!!!! mel makes me go CRAZY both bc her character/story is so incredible and also bc like... those arcane modellers knew what they were doing ok--

[mourn2]

Uhh so like. I've almost forgotten how to use this app but many things have happened and I finished arcane when the finale dropped. Is this anything. + More under the cut

[proxythe]

two wolves cuddling 🐺🌞

[notnotravenpond]

hi

Mel Medarda

[artificialcaretaker]

-Don’t get lost in heaven-

[Haven’t cleaned up a traditional peace in a while, so this was a real nice throwback for me!!

GOD. Mel my BELOVED. I feel so bad for my wife bro she just keeps going through it. Y’know what I’m thinking of, though? She is just. SO much more emotionally mature than everyone else. Like, barely anybody in this series can actually handle grief without doing something that fucks at least a couple people over!! Everyone else loses someone and decided to blow shit up about it!! Only other character I can think of who’s gone through significant loss and STILL hasn’t lost it is Ekko, probably. Maybe it’s just the black people, maybe we’re all just really calm and composed!! Or maybe we intentionally tone down our emotional reactions in order to still be respected because even the smallest slip up knocks you RIGHT down to the Stereotype Zone with the people around you. Idk if real world racism exists in LoL it’s prolly not that lmao.

But either way, Mel’s holding a lotta emotions back, and while I sincerely doubt she’s gonna start killing people about it like everyone else I DO hope she finds SOME way to truly and finally express all of it. I WOULD be like “Oh she’ll talk to Jayce and it’ll be a beautiful moment showing their mutual love and support for each other dawwwwww” but no he’s going insane and killing their boyfriend. And their boyfriend developed a messiah complex and became a cult leader. Oh and also her buddy-in-law became a dictator with her MOM. GOD she’s gonna be so pissed when she gets back 😔😔😔

[survivalove]

everyday i log on here to see a post that makes me happy jayce is sky dust (no pun intended) and will never be in any canon media with mel again 🥰

[neo--queen--serenity]

I think it was a very fascinating and deliberate choice on the creators’ part to give the two people closest to Jayce—Viktor and Mel—the same imagery that evokes the mystery mage who helped Jayce when he was a child.

We see this visual callback first in Viktor, in Act I:

This makes sense, of course, once we know the mystery mage is Viktor—albeit a future version of himself. But what struck me is the fact that they also gave Mel Medarda the same treatment.

When Jayce first sees her after the awakening of her magic, he sees that image—a being whose mere presence caused his weapon to light up in recognition, paired with a robe covering their identity—and I think there’s a great possibility that he asked himself if this was the one; the mage who saved him when he was young.

Once she reveals herself, he visibly relaxes, and they reconnect. But the physical change in her is clear in her body language. She now moves like the mage in Jayce’s memory. She hides her face in her hood often, something she never used to do before. And her mannerisms are slightly different, which could easily be accounted for due to her not being used to the magic now alive in her body. But it’s the change itself that makes the viewer do a double-take.

It could just be that Mel and Viktor are the only mages we see up close in the series. Perhaps it is simply what happens when magic transforms their wielder in subtle, physical ways.

But I think the parallel holds narrative weight as well. The two people with the most affection and influence over Jayce both end up touched by the Arcane in ways that are both transformative and involuntary. The are changed after their bodies become vessels of magic.

I think that’s why the creators gave both Mel and Viktor the same iconography that would invoke a clear memory from Jayce’s childhood as the symbol that started him on the path to magic.

Viktor actually was the mystery mage from Jayce’s memory, and after the finale, the viewer knows why. But I think, implicitly, the point was that either one of them could have been.

[melmedarda]

"I carried him in my belly, nursed him from my bosom. He was all the sweetness in my heart. For that, they took him, carved into me a wound that will never close. I pray you never suffer the agony of being forced to forsake one child to save another."

⸻ MEL & AMBESSA MEDARDA, Arcane Season 2

[nualaofthefaerie]

The subtle notion that it was SKY AND MEL's joint effort that saved Jayce's life is insane.

FIRST OFF, re-watch that scene yourself. I'm not here to argue, it's a theory and it's something that made a big impression on me. + i made my own gifs for this.

When Viktor chokes Jayce with the "unfortunate" realisation that he is in the way of the glorious evolution, he gets distracted as seen here 👇 Something gets his attention enough to break away from looking at Jayce:

My theory is that the glowing orb that distracts him is Sky protesting. We see during episode 8 that whatever she is, she disagrees with the path of violence Viktor embarks on. The light is blues and purples which are Sky's colors in the arcane. Viktor's are this greens and blues as seen above, but Sky's always have purple or some red in it. (The gif below is a soft merge of Sky in the episode and the orb that distracts Viktor).

Viktor's reaction 👇 comes from his disbelief that there is still something he can't control in the Arcane - Sky, his own humanity. It would never allow him to hurt Jayce the way he is choking him basically to death. My reading is Sky (his HUMANITY) trying to convince him to let go, to re-consider. And you can see the realisation and softening of his gaze. Like he was considering whatever she was whispering in his ear.

By that time Jayce is kind of a goner.

And then Mel activated and Viktor locked back in with the speed of evil light (which apparently he is greatly offended by, like sir, you're killing one of your lovers over here, what did you expect) it gives Mel enough time to gather herself and react physically.

And even if she can't control her strength yet and it hurts her, she's absolutely giving her all to shake Viktor and save Jayce. (Something completely lost in the whole 'Meljay is a manipulation ship'. I'll tell you this much, Mel Medarda always gave 110% for Jayce Talis' dreams and safety, good investment or not)

Anyways, the point is that Sky's protesting was enough to distract Viktor emotionally, so Mel can shake the marionette physically.

Girls in STEM uniting to save 1/4th of their weirdly insane polycule because one full half has gone insane in the Arcane (hint: it's none of the girls, Melsky remain level headed queens).

But all that to say that Viktor forces Sky away AFTER that fight. He cannot afford to let her keep him human. If JAYCE, Vitkor's own other half, and Mel look like they have given up on him, what is the point of fighting for a lost cause. He rather do it by himself and reach the final Glorious Evolution.

[1920sladydectective]

Best Friend's Mother Ch.6 (Finale) 6.8K MDNI 18+

Here she bloody is, my darlings!

All done, finally, giving me room to write even more Ambessa stuff. Next stop Professor Medarda!

That being said, I've loved writing this story and feel so honoured by the reception it has received. Thank you especially to @shinyshayminflower for the initial prompt, @uselessbard1031 for the endless support and @chocolate-quotes for the stunning cover art which I adoreddddddddddd.

Love you all, let me know what you think!

Warnings: Degradation, Name Calling, Overstimulation kinda? Lots of alcohol idk I'm British and this is set at Christmas okay.

Chapter 6:

You’d failed at the first hurdle, the first second, the truest and largest fuck up possible of a New Year’s resolution. Bubbles fizzed in your blood, common sense popping like a thousand little sparks. 

She tasted good, like whisky and regret and those tiny chocolate puddings on the trays at the party. The party you couldn’t quite remember or reconcile, the party that faded to blurring noise as she consumed you. 

Ambessa’s mind was screaming at her. This was not how she’d intended the evening to go. Rather the opposite. She was going to kiss one of Cassandra’s uptight friends, unwind them a bit and then take her drunken gaggle of children home. 

Instead she’d been ripped to shreds by her daughter and was now eating the very forbidden (but no longer?) fruit she had tried to avoid. 

You pulled away merely to breathe, but it was enough, like a shock of cold water. Tears, hot and angry sprung into your eyes almost immediately. 

“What was that?” You snarled, gulping in air. 

“I-“ Ambessa coughed slightly, “A mistake,” 

You scoffed, shoving her, “You can say that again,” 

“No,” She backtracked, muddled, “I just meant-“ 

“Do me a favour and fuck off, okay?” You wiped your mouth viciously with your sleeve, panic heavy in your heart as you rushed past her without another word. Drunk and distressed, you made your way into a random corner and stayed there. 

You’d tell Mel in the morning, you told yourself with trembling hands, but right now it would be too much. 

Ambessa was having the most tiring evening ever. Nothing was happening in the right order, as if she’d been given the smaller part of every wishbone in existence.Her mouth was a villain, intent on ruining everything. Glancing in the reflection of one of Cassandra’s crystalline statutes, she saw her massacred face, red smudges everywhere. 

“Well,” Cassandra Kiramman’s smug voice rang out, “That was a damn sight better than seeing you kiss my child like last year,” 

Muscled shoulders seized, wide golden eyes meeting cool grey ones, “Lovely party,”

“I think that’s the first time in twenty years you’ve said that,” She snorted, “I needn’t lecture you about how stupid that was, we both remember what happened with Maddie,”

“She isn’t Maddie,”

“Evidently,” A click of teeth, an outstretched hand holding cloth “I’ll see you on the 14th, I can take your money and your secrets then,” 

Ambessa sighed, wiping her face of lipstick and taking a regrouping breath. There was little to do but sober up and figure out a battle plan. Divide her stupidity and hopefully conquer her love. Or some other battle analogy she was too pissed to think of. “Thank you,”

“There’s no need for that,” She smiled, rolling her eyes at her friend, “You’re hosting the women’s luncheon in February,” 

Fuck.

You were sitting in a fancy taxi, a snoozing Mel on your shoulder as Kino rambled about the artwork in Caitlyn’s house. You didn’t care about the fact that the frames were worth as much as the art, or that some of them had taken years to find. You didn’t care about anything at all really, save the brooding woman in front of you. She seemed so cold, so distant, and you found that it did not suit her. You’d never be rid of her, that understanding had set in as you stumbled out of the car and into the front porch. She was like Japanese knotweed, strong and thriving and made to rot the very foundations of life. Here you were, a three time offender of succumbing to her, despite your morals and your strength and your hatred. 

Deft fingers attempted to grab your wrist as Kino and Mel waltzed arm in arm up the staircase, but her hold found nothing but air. A snap, a growl, something animalistic as you trailed quickly after your friends, the third of the good little wolves and nothing more. 

Sleep was easy due to alcohol, though all it really did was lock you in dreams. Tender kisses and bitter words fighting for the spotlight, leaving your mind a flashing drunken strobe. Sweaty, distressed turning and rolling until dawn beckoned and you lay shivering in the fetal position. No amount of fancy heating systems could rid your bones of the chill, heavy limbs freezing you in place. 

It took several hours and a minor pity party to make it into a different pair of less sweaty pyjamas, another hour to make it downstairs and fifteen seconds for your hopes of sorting this out as soon as possible to be crushed. 

A series of texts from Mel. Mel and Kino had left twenty minutes ago, a sibling breakfast tradition you had been omitted from due to your lack of appearance. Fuck. Just her, somewhere, lurking. 

The kitchen was safe, paprika crisps settling your stomach as you brewed some longjing tea. A plan was formed, tell Mel, pack your shit and stay with your cousin until the housework finished later this week. It was solid, grounding and allowed you to get the fuck out of this weird fantasy land. Nothing felt tangible here, all consequences smashing down as soon as the spell of the upper class echelons was shattered by travelling 20 miles north. You holed yourself up in one of the spare sitting rooms, avoiding where she thought you’d be in favour of unfamiliar cream sofas and animal artwork. 

It wasn’t enough. 

Tentative footsteps, her arrival heralded by Mina, like a slow marching procession. There was no escape. One way in, one way out. The oak door clicked shut softly. You did not, would not, give her the satisfaction of looking up. 

Your name on her lips, measured and calm, as the sofa to your right dipped with her body weight. A loud clunk, your gaze meeting a bottle of artisan Olive Oil. 

“Olive branch?” She muttered, “We were out of breadsticks,” 

You looked at it, still not her, nose twitching. Her charm, though flavoured now with hesitancy, was viscous and wrong as it lapped at your skin. “That implies there’s a conversation to be had here, and there isn’t,”

“Look at me,” Soft but impatient. 

Your eyeline did not move. Her arrogance astounded you.

“I was thinking-”

“No, Mrs Medarda,” You snapped, formality and fury, making the cat jump, “There is nothing you can say, I am going to tell Mel and then I’m going to get away from you, as fast as possible,” 

“A tad dramatic,” Cryptic, passive smile, “Mel knows, darling,” 

“What?” This had you meeting her gaze, “You told her?”

“Not yet,” A sniff, “Not exactly,” 

“Well then she doesn’t fucking know, you twat,” 

Ambessa’s lips upturned slightly, “She doesn’t know the specifics, but she knows my motivations,”

“Motivations?” You scoffed, “Your untameable pride and sex drive you mean?”

Ambessa, despite having spent most of the night replaying every interaction you had ever shared under the rosy haze of infatuation, had yet to find a way to piece together her confession. Part of her wanted to wax lyrical, a modern day poet speaking in nothing but nonsense and flowers. But your impatience, borne of hurt and exhaustion, hung heavy above her. She was the one fearing the guillotine’s blade now, she should have learned from history that the revolution always comes in the end. And here it was, the revolt of her own mutinous heart. 

“Well?” Her silence unsettled you, those carved brows scrunched inwards, as you fought a mounting urge to backhand her. 

“Not quite that,” She muttered, “Wouldn’t have bothered with the olive oil if it was just sex, dear,” 

Your eyes rolled, pushing off of the sofa, body fleeing before your blood curdled in your veins. 

She grabbed your arm, pulling you back down with a thud, “Stop I-” gasped air, “I’m trying to be honest here,”

“You’re speaking like a Dickens novel and I’m supposed to take you seriously? Three Ghosts come and slap you in the face? Or some New Year’s resolution, is it?” You yank your hand back, skin fizzing and yearning for the calloused warmth to return. 

“Yes, actually,” 

“What was your Christmas past like then?”

“Troubled,” She quipped, rolling her eyes at you, “It is a resolution, one I indeed to stick to,”

A laugh, grating against your throat, “Didn’t take you for the type, you don’t seem in a rush to change anything about your life,” 

“Stop being childish and listen,” She snapped. 

“You have two minutes,” You spat, “And then I’m leaving,”

“Two minutes isn’t even enough time to boil an egg,” 

“Ambessa,”

Muscles tensed. Fine. Fucking Hell. “I’ve been bad to you,” There, well done Ambessa, a start. Accountability, the sharp blade you must crush within your palm. 

Tart and hard, an unripe cherry between your teeth, shock bloomed. There was nothing particularly reassuring about her words, but you jumped all the same. 

“I abused your kindness and took advantage of you,” How lovely and romantic, the muted whites of the room shifting to morose greys. 

“Old news, cemented about nine kisses ago,”

“I know that,” It was sharper than she’d intended, a sigh rattling out, “I know,”

“If you know, why are we having this conversation?” You grabbed the olive oil, waving it about, “What kind of weak, spindly branch is this?”

“You’re so pedantic, must you have everything spelled out for you?!” She growled, tenderness foreign on her tongue, “The I’m in love with you kind,” 

A spell, like a muffling blanket of snow, enveloped the room. Such a tender, sweet truth, with all the certainty and promise of the apple of Eden. Was she the snake or Eve, you could hardly tell. You sat, in stasis, as she swallowed. 

FIve minutes. Ten. A brutal, endless fifteen. 

“Don’t be cruel,” Acid burned in your mouth, tears smarting your eyes, “Don’t wave that about,”

Snip. Your words cutting Ambessa’s newly found heartstrings, “I wouldn’t,”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“No,” It was firm.

“And that’s what Mel knows?” You asked, eyes narrow. You didn’t believe her, couldn’t, wouldn’t. Really, really shouldn’t. 

“She insisted upon it, screamed at me in the Kiramman’s bathroom,” 

“Wait,” Awe bubbled between your ribs, “Last night?”

A begrudging nod, that soft half smile that made you melt. She loved your lip twitches of surprise, your mouth turning over words you couldn’t vocalise. 

“Why?”

“She sort of stumbled into it, as did I,” A pause as she pulled a red wine bottle and glasses from seemingly nowhere, “Do you mind?”

“Yes, I do,” You snarked, flicking the cork onto the floor, “But by all means, don’t let that stop you,” 

“I won’t,”

You took the glass she offered all the same, settling into the sofa with renewed confidence, petulant hands spilling drops of burgundy onto the cream sofa. “Stumbled, you said?”

Ambessa crossed her legs, Malbec coating her tongue, “She was..frustrated that I had not distanced myself enough from you,”

“I noticed a distinct difference,”

“That’s what I said,”

“Not taking your side,” You swished your hand for her to continue. 

“She said I was selfish and many other things, another character assassination,” Heavy chug, “But she wanted a reason, a cause,”

“She always does,” Anticipation was building now, possible half truths and sweet words lingering just out of reach, “It’s the only reason she forgave me, because of how I felt,”

Ambessa nodded, eyes distant, “Did you know I find it harder to sleep now?”

What? You were hungover and hair of the expensive vintage dog was not quite cutting it.  Speak plainly you maddening cow, your mind cried. Instead, “Pardon?”

“I miss the weight of you on my chest, and the coldness of your toes on my calves,” She muttered, memory easier than big declarations, “It’s what I thought of when Mel asked me to prove it, to prove it was..” 

Monster. Cannibal. Villain. She was gnawing at your bones, words like ambrosia to all the battered, tired shades of you that sat before her. You missed that too, had mourned it like so many other little, luxurious sweetnesses. 

“That’s still a physical desire,” You rationalised, lips stained with wine. 

A grunt, “Do you need more?”

A nod. Several. Only confirmational overkill would do here. 

“I-” Her hand twitched, “find myself trying to force an affinity for apple tea,”

“You hate it,”

“But it tastes of you,” She said, “Sometimes it’s all I can do to stave off the craving,”

“So you miss my mouth? Physical.” 

Ambessa pouted, heavy hand overpouring another glass, “What do you want from me? I’ve already said it,”

You laughed, in spite of it all, “I want to know what you’re feeling, not what you miss or crave or imagine,”

It seemed to rent her asunder, her feelings etched in memories, stuck far away from words. Love was one, but it was vulnerable and rough against her tongue. It had only come out via happenstance, sleep deprivation and growing panic. Affection hung in the background, and devotion sat like oil on her smooth skin. How was she to wield them? A great axe pulling her into herself, straining underdeveloped muscles. 

“It’s a bit like quicksand,” Her tone was unsteady, “It’s eating me whole,”

“What is?”

 “Love,” She snarled, as if it was obvious, eyes ever so slightly glazed. 

“The more you fight, the more you sink?”

She nodded, a heady relief in your understanding, light at the end of her confusing tunnel, “Exactly that,” 

You downed your glass, “Then I’ll throw you a stick, help you out,” a dismissive sniff, “I hate you,”

“No you don’t,” No hesitation, “You fell before I did, Sweet Girl,” 

“And look where that got me,” 

“But we’re in it together now,”

“There is no together, Ambessa,” You were sinking, she would not be proven right, “Your love is as dangerous as your indifference, wolves do not cradle their prey tenderly,”

“You aren’t prey,” It was a cry, angry and indignant, as her hands found yours. 

“Then why am I covered in your bitemarks?” 

She grumbled, “I think we’ve used the full extent of this metaphor, darling,” 

“Metaphors, jibs, cold truths, however you spin it, you are an emotionally immature mess,”

“Mel called me an emotionally impotent bitch,” She said, interlocking her warm hands with your trembling ones, “You were kinder about it,” 

“I’m always kinder about everything,” You replied, tightening your grip.

“It’s one of the things I love about you,” 

“Stop saying that!” 

“What?” She smiled, something giving way inside her, “Love? That I love you?”

“I-Yes,” You were chest deep now, thick wet sand eating you, “I don’t know what to do with that, with you,” 

Ambessa sat, rhythmically stroking your knuckles, as her head leaned closer to yours, “You let me earn you, my darling,”

Thick sludge, stealing your breath away now, “Earn me?” 

“Will you let me try?” Her voice was molasses now, pushing you down into the very bottom of the pit, her brain finally catching up with her body, “Words fuelled by action?” 

“L-like date me? And woo me?” Your eyes were fluttering, heart a schism of fear and fancy. 

She hummed in confirmation, free hand tucking some of your glitter crusted hair behind your ear, gaze soft. 

“Doesn’t seem very characteristic, Ambessa,” 

“Yes, well,” A humorous sigh, “You’ve clearly made me sick, some kind of spell or curse,”

You smacked her arm, a nonsensical laugh slipping out. She was ridiculous and stupid and images of her sending you flowers or taking you mini golfing came into your mind unbidden. 

“Is that a yes, my darling?”

“What does Mel think?”

“I think you should ask her,” Ambessa’s voice wrapped around you, “Regardless of this, I will not monopolise on your relationship with her,”

“I think you’re suffering from head injury,” She was perfect, she was handing you your dreams on a silver platter, so why couldn’t you take it? “I think I need some time,”

She nodded, ignoring the dark growl in her chest, “There’s no timeline,” Actually, the timeline was she wanted to be between your legs right now, but it seemed the clocks were confused. 

With an odd, robotic stroke to her cheek, you stumbled out of the room and back up the stairs. Ignoring your door, you curled into Mel’s room, allowing yourself to be engulfed by frilly bed sheets. She’d find you later and you could have a chat. 

Find you she did, snoring and pale in her bed, with wine stained lips and tear stained cheeks. Hungover limbs crawled around you, kissing your forehead. 

“Babe!” It was a happy shout, as you flinched awake. 

“That was not the only way to do that,” 

“It’s the way I chose,”

The conversation that transpired was as follows. You bared your snotty, shattered soul and called her mother all the cruel, loving things you could think of and she nodded sagely whilst stroking your hair. She then decided to take her mother’s side, and say that you should definitely pursue a relationship if you loved her, as if it was that simple. You were now battering her shoulder with a candy cane shaped cushion. 

“Hitting me isn’t going to change my answer,”

“It’s not normal to tell your friend to date your mother,” You cried, “The only sane person in this family is Kino,”

“Really?”

A memory of him drizzling a chicken wing with melted chocolate the night before returned, “Christ, okay you’re all nuts!” 

“You still haven’t told me what you want,” Mel murmured, taking the candy cane from your grasp, “Just that she’s evil and you feel weak when she smiles, which honestly urgh,” 

Uncertain, jittering hands tug at a strand of hair, “I don’t think I know,”

Silence, her hand on your shoulder, as you sorted through the bombed out craters in your mind. Each kiss, fight, and confession had made its mark and the rubble was hard to decipher. 

“I think I want to exist a bit, before I commit to anything,” 

“You have been through a lot, babe,” Mel was so gentle, you adored her more than she could ever ever know, “Maybe just be you? Mum’ll wait,”

“Will she?” That was your hope and your fear. 

“She’ll have to if she’s serious, and if she doesn’t then fuck her, you can find another fish, preferably one I’m not related to,” 

“I love you,”

“Damn right,” She kissed your head, “Now can we watch TV or something, my head hurts,”

Three days passed, and she was surprisingly normal. There was no forced affection or ultimatums, just the same smile; considerate and mischievous. You were grateful, the space confirming what you’d said to Mel. You needed to be you, away from the magic and madness of this house, and only then would you really know. 

When you told her as much, firelight flickering in the library on your last evening, she let out a long sigh. The grating, dull pain in her heart intensified, but with it so did her plan.

The last dinner felt stupidly biblical, final and massive, as though you may never return. A veritable feast, overflowing plates and glasses, as even Rictus joined you for the meal. Kino was a jester of epic proportions, breaking more than one glass in his pursuit of a punchline. Ambessa sat, quiet but merry, against the carved mahogany chair of the dining room. Mel, as ever, was the master of pictures. You dreaded the thought of the costs to develop that much film, though you placed bunny ears behind Kino’s head as you grinned into the flash all the same. Rictus, though, was the real diamond in the rough of the evening. Strong and well mannered, with your exact sense of humour. He was quiet and yet seemed to fill every silence that threatened to hurt you. You felt sorry to have overlooked him in a way, leaning a heavy head against his shoulder. 

“I’m going to miss you,”

“Miss my endless free labours?” He joked, a gruff voice above your ear. 

“Miss your sanity,” You said, “Miss your friendship,”

“Well, I’m only ever a phone call away,” He replied, “Us furniture have to stick together,” 

You laughed, bright and true, as he dolloped another mountain of tiramisu onto your plate. 

Slowly, but surely, you all retired to bed, a holiday well spent and a heavy desire to return to normal weighing in the air.

The next morning, as he bundled your endless possessions into Mel’s boot, Rictus called you over. 

“Something the matter?”

“Kid,” A sternness, “You’re going to be alright?”

You snorted, “I told you I’d keep in touch, where’s this come from? Delirious from all of Mel’s handbags and shoes?”

“I love Ambessa Medarda very much,” He said out of nowhere, hand stroking your arm, “Don’t let her wants eclipse yours,”

“What?” What the fuck was he on about? 

“Speak of the devil, and she appears,” He muttered, stepping away without a further word. Bastard. 

Ambessa squeezed Mel with all her might, an acceptance blossoming in a relationship filled with shards of glass and broken promises. “Look after yourself, work hard,”

“Party harder,” Mel muttered, “I know Mum, I’ll see you at Easter,”

She climbed into the preheated Land Rover, just as Rictus wandered back into the Manor with a shout and a wave. Kino had said goodbye over breakfast, nearly breaking a rib, and so it was just her.

The goodbye was stilted, her large hand stroking your hair as she took an audible sniff. It made you giggle wetly, swallowing down the impulse to just collapse into her and let yourself be consumed. You first, her later. That was probably what Rictus had meant, god your brain was slow today.

“Thanks for a lovely Christmas, and everything in between, well most things,” You mumbled, watery smile. 

“You’re more than welcome, Sweet Girl,” 

“I-I’ll be in touch, when I can,” Her hand was warm in yours, keeping you anchored in place. 

“IF you can, Dear,” She corrected, voice caring “I expect you to take this seriously,” 

A scoff, as you nodded and pursed your lips. Everyone was treating you like you were suddenly going to go back on your plan and jump her bones against the front door. It was a valid concern, even you hadn’t decided completely if you would or not.

“See you soon,” She said, a throwaway comment, as you let go and climbed into Mel’s car. 

Several beats. Your heart full and empty, a weird schrodinger’s joke. A fern tree smell from the little car freshener. 

“Well that was agonising to watch,” Mel quipped, shooting her mum a wave and pulling out of the driveway. Manicured nails flicked on a random playlist, 80s rock heavy, as you stared out at the frosty scenery. 

The flowers started a week after you had gotten back to Edinburgh. Always different, always perfectly sized for your light green vase and never overwhelming. It was a constant sign of her presence, without the stifling need to be responded to. There was never a note, beyond her initials, and that made each delivery all the sweeter. Sometimes other things would come with them too, after a long deadline or big presentation, there would be wine or a new book. It was a more considerate type of materialism, reminiscent of sand castle buckets and chiffon dresses, as glimmering parts of your old self emerged from the explosion of Her. 

Winter socials, dancing around the house in pyjamas singing ABBA with Mel as the world began to thaw.

Valentine’s Day arrived, and with it a little bouquet of roses and a takeaway voucher. 

Happy Valentine’s Day, Ambessa x

                               You too, Sweet Girl x

It was your first point of contact, and you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it. She was slowly but surely winning you over from afar, earning you as she’d said and this new, fresh, old version of yourself was happy to let her encroach a bit on No Man’s Land. Plus, this burrito was one of the best things you’d eaten in ages.

Ambessa was smiling widely at her phone, heart a jackhammer. She felt foolish, any acknowledgment sending her into a tailspin, but that soft kiss at the end of a text was enough to solidify her already immense resolve. You were hers, and she was yours, however long she had to wait.

You were granted the funding you needed, your academic success propelling you into spring with tired and happy limbs. Eleven weeks of flowers, a few scattered texts and one slightly drunken nude later, Mel was rambling at the dinner table about Easter plans. 

“Dad’s not back till the last week,” You replied around a very hot mouthful of chicken parm, “Presumed I’d spend the rest of the time with you,”

Mel’s eyes glistened, shit eating grin on her glossed lips, “Did you now?”

“Oh come off it,” You snapped, “Ambessa already offered anyway,” 

“She has? How nice of her,” Excitement fizzed in her, battling with a bit of sadness at losing her friend’s full attention, “And how is that? Calla lilies this week, I noticed,” 

“Why’s that matter?”

“They mean beauty,” 

“They have meanings?” Tomato sauce stained your grey joggers, you didn’t care, “What about the others?” 

She snorted, “You thought they were just random?”

“I-I” A gulp, “Well, fuck I don’t know I just thought they were pretty,” 

Her laughter grated at you, google your true friend in the matter, as you scanned through each message Ambessa had supposedly sent. 

Bluebells first - Humility. Ironic start. 

Honeysuckle - Bonds of Love

Yellow Tulips - Sunshine in a smile - your heart seized. 

Peony - Bashful - not a word you’d really associate with her. 

White Hyacinth - Loveliness - Hers or your own? Both, you decided. Both. 

Edelweiss - Devotion - a dizzy wave of warmth over your skin. 

Red Roses - I Love You - apt for Valentine’s day. 

Chamomile - Patience in adversity. How brave she was, how ridiculous.

Forget-Me-Nots - True Love Memories - Her stained grin, garlic bread in hand came to mind. 

Red Camellias - You’re a flame in my heart - This coincided directly with her receiving a picture of you in a lacy red bra and thong, courtesy of cheap pints in your favourite pub, and an uncharged vibrator. 

Calla Lillies - Beauty. 

Your chicken parm was cold now, your mouth hanging open, as your eyes burned slightly. 

“You back with me, babe?” 

“This is so stupid,” You spluttered into cold marinara sauce, “She’s so stupid,”

“Love makes a fool of us all,” Mel said wisely. 

“Is that why you, Viktor and Jayce were curled up last night? I saw you holding hands,” 

“Be quiet!” She whined, “Die,”

“Don’t throw stones, Mel,” You mocked, “You’re looking awful glassy right now,” 

You would stay for Easter then, you both agreed over chocolate mousse, as you sent a thumbs up to Ambessa’s invitation. 

Ambessa, glasses balancing on her nose as she read a novel, scanned the text. Once. Twice. An exuberant third time. Rictus ended up battered with requests for a clear and ornate Easter menu, despite the fact that the holiday was over six weeks away and not at all favoured by the Medarda family. Mina had taken to nibbling her phone but only ever when you texted, and Ambessa was beginning to take it personally.

Your spring deadlines came and went, as April and its gentle rest bite from academia beckoned. The journey was painfully familiar to you now, as was the warm and rough rock sitting in your stomach. You felt you again, which was terrifying as it finally gave some space for her. Something you had come to want so desperately it made your dreams turbulent and your hands shaky. She still had some work to do, but as you flicked through your sparse text exchanges you couldn’t fight the smitten smile. 

You loved Ambessa Medarda, and that was okay now. For both of you. 

Ambessa had been waiting for three hours by the door like an overexcited dog. Several times Rictus had come to ask her questions or show her things, and each time she was transfixed on the long driveway.

“Mel said they wouldn’t be here before 2,” He said, smirk on his lips. 

“She’s never reliable,” 

“She is literally compulsively on time,” 

“Rictus, do I pay you for these kinds of conversations?”

“No, but you probably should, I was going to bring it up during my next performance review,” 

“Ah yes, 31st of April, wasn’t it?”

He laughed, wandering back towards the tower of hand painted easter eggs he was tending to.

2pm on the dot you pulled up by the house, clambering to stretch your legs. As the door opened Mel ran to it, kissing her Mum’s cheek and shooting past her to get to the toilet. Whether intentional or serendipity, Mel had given you the perfect opening to stare like a lovesick fool at her mother. 

“Ambessa,” Her name a cry of joy.

“Sweet Girl,” She ignored the thickness in her throat, eyes glimmering at seeing your face again. 

“T-Thanks for the flowers,” Unsure hands, “And the messages they sent,”

She smiled, stepping forward and squeezing your arm. “Always, as long as you enjoy them,” 

“You’ve been just what I needed,” Affection swelled in your chest, “Present but distant,”

“Like a ghoul?” 

You giggled, “Exactly that,”

“You keep comparing me to spirits and ghosts,”

“I actually compared you to Scrooge, not the ghosts themselves,” 

She rolled her eyes, snorting, “You must always be right, mustn’t you?”

“Ambessa,” You repeated, gentiler now. 

She hummed in question, gaze meeting yours. 

“I think I’m ready to try now,” A sharp inhale, “If you are?”

“Well,” Her crimson lips part into a dazzling smile, “That makes me very ha-”

“Princess!!” Kino, dressed in plaid pyjamas, shouted as he ran to engulf you in a hug, “You’re here!”

“Bastard child,” Ambessa grunted under her breath, watching as you cuddled her son and made faces at her over his shoulder. 

“Later,” You mouthed, before focusing on Kino, “Hello there, Peacock Prince,”

She wandered back inside with a murderous expression, greeted by Mel halfway through a bag of Quavers, “Kino cockblock you?”

“Mel, I fund your lifestyle,” Ambessa snapped, “Do not antagonise me,”

“That’s a yes,” Her crunchy words said, offering her a cheesy grin. 

It took until after dinner that evening for you to get a moment alone together again, your spot in the library occupied as you stared across at her. Kino was out with another lady friend and Mel had common sense, so the air that crackled around you would not be interrupted. It was a good thing too, you’d spent the whole time eating your spaghetti trying to make yourself look alluring. Until Mel had pinched you under the table. 

“So,” You started, chest tight. 

“So,” She repeated, stroking Mina, “You said you were ready?”

“Yes,” Your decision was certain now, having spent some time back in her presence. You wanted it all, as soon as you could get it. Seemed you were as damned as she was. The devil on your own shoulder.

“We can take it slowly, Sweet girl,” She said, leaning forward, “There’s no rush,”

Your blood was thick and hot, mind whirling, “What if I want to rush?”

Ambessa grinned, chucking Mina away and with one sharp tug moving you onto her large thighs, “Then I’d say, where would you like to start?”

She was solid and seductive and all the things you’d avoided in your time finding yourself. She was as sticky and tempting as always, though her love tempered the fire now. Things were never done by half, and you’d fooled yourself when you planned to build a relationship step by step. Ambessa had laid the foundations, floral and firm, so now you wanted to chuck brick and cement together as fast as you could. 

“This maybe?” You half slurred in anticipation, hungry lips meeting hers. 

Ambessa was, for once, incredibly surprised. You were devouring her, with no restraint, as if no time had passed at all. But you were different now, she could sense it. Stronger, more certain of your place, your needs and wishes. It suited you, like an attractive new coat. Her hands were roaming about, searching for the best place to land, each patch of skin more perfect than the last. 

“Are you sure?” She murmured against smudged lips, holding your chin in place to stop your desperate advance, “I don’t want to push you away again,”

You melted, kissing her palm, “You won’t,” it was breathless, “I promise,”

“I’ll only do this if I get to take you out tomorrow, a nice long day together,” Her honeyed voice muttered, though one hand was already making its way under your shirt. 

“So a win-win?” 

Calloused fingers grazed your nipple, kissing your neck as she nodded into it. 

“Not sure I could ask for a better Easter,” You joked breathlessly, body twitching into her touch. 

“That’s why you’re not going to ask for it,” Her voice was dark, a switch flipped, “You’re going to beg,” 

Welcome back Ambessa Medarda, you’ve been sorely missed. I hope you fuck my brains out now. “Please?” You quipped. 

A sharp pinch to your nipple, a low growl, “Do you think I’m joking, girl?”

You ached for her, mind fracturing, as an earnest apology ripped from your throat. Your pleading was real now, her wet kisses maddening. 

Ambessa felt hungry, ravenous in fact, and you had offered yourself like a perfect little dessert. How kind. How naive. It took her a few minutes of pawing at you for all of your clothes to be left on the floor, goosebumps prickling your skin as you rubbed yourself against her thigh. This was perfection, your thoughts slush as she whispered filth in your ear. 

“More,” You whined, the pull on your chest not harsh enough. 

She twisted until it burnt, making you jolt, as her wet tongue soothed the ache, “That enough pain for you? So desperate for it,” 

“I-I”

“Is that why you sent me those filthy pictures?” Her thumb, slick with you, danced in circles across your clit, “Wanting to show yourself off, hmm? A slut in red lace?”

“Ambessa,” You gasped. 

“You wanted to drive me mad,” A suck to a sore nipple, “Wanted to corrupt me, after I tried so hard to stay away,” 

“It was an accident,” You slurred, stomach tensing as you thrust in rhythm with her touching. 

“An accident?” She scoffed, nuzzling against your throat, “That’s what you call spreading yourself for me on camera?” 

You were so close, her words like gasoline as you whimpered a confused apology, your mind desperate to keep feeling good. 

“Is this an accident too, Sweet girl?”

“Wha-” Your eyes rolled, cunt gushing as your first orgasm slammed into you like a sledgehammer. 

She slipped you off her lap, sliding out from under you to the ground, as your bare skin touched the cool red leather chair. She knelt, a devious grin on her lips, between your trembling legs as she watched a soft slickness drip down your thighs.

“You’ve made a mess,” She said, disapproving pout on her face, “Say you’re sorry,”

“S-sorry, Ambessa,” You mumbled, eyes glassy. 

“Good girl,” She stroked your thighs, a tight grip on them, tiny crescent moons from her nails, “It’s okay, I’m here to tidy you up,”

She had always been skilled, playing you like an instrument, but as her hot tongue hit your folds you found yourself blank, empty and unsure if you would ever feel anything other than raw, molten pleasure again. Teasing kitten licks lapped up your juices, her golden eyes controlling your every move, as you went limp against the chair. It smelt of her. Everything in this room did. Your body twitched again. 

Her tongue drew another two orgasms from your needy body, sweaty hair sticking to your forehead as you tugged at her salt and pepper curls. 

At some point you ended up flat on the floor against her fancy Persian rug, legs spread as she sat on your face. She was soaked, your cheeks wet as you ate mindlessly. Her orgasms were like nectar as she came apart above you, stern voice turning airy and dazed.

“Just like t-that,” She panted, fucking herself on your tongue.

Your hummed agreement hit her swollen clit, her tongue lolling out her mouth as an animalistic grunt filled the room. 

You were in a bed now. How had that happened? 

“Still with me, little one?” She teased, stroking your hair as she loomed above with a long, hard strap-on. 

“That looks nice,” You babbled, chest rapidly rising and falling. 

“Would you like it?”

A nod. 

“Ask nicely then, Sweet girl,” 

“Pleasepleaseplease,” You said, sweet as sugar, spreading yourself just as you had in those pictures. 

Ambessa Medara was a strong woman. It was her defining feature in fact. Iron will and firm muscle, she prided herself on being a fortress. Here, however, with a whimpering slut beneath her, her resolve shattered like china against marble. You were stuffed before she’d processed the last plea, a surprised gurgle as she worked to destroy you. 

Again, and again and again. She fucked that sweet spot in you with relentless efficiency, as cool leather rubbed against your clit in time with her thrusts. You’d long since given up on the idea of being quiet, mewling gasps and shouts of her name leaving you hoarse with fluttering eyes.

“Cum for me,” It was a sudden command, voice harsh and high, as she fell apart with a vicious thrust. 

You obeyed, the coil in you snapping again, as her sweat covered skin collided with yours. 

You stayed like that, hearts beating in time, as lust faded to contentment and exhaustion. Her slurred praise soothed your battered body as a cold flannel wiped away the stickiness that lingered everywhere. 

There was little else to be said that night, words of love and happiness pouring from you both under your shared silken sheets. 

She loved you. 

You loved her. 

How perfect. 

Slightly lopsided, with a turtleneck to hide the smattering of bruises across your skin, you made your way to the breakfast table. You’d agreed with Ambessa to tell Kino this morning before your date, the only thing still truly weighing on her out of the way in order for you to have the perfect day together. 

He was currently assembling a tower of waffles and bacon, as Mel systematically pushed it over. Rictus stood making more construction materials at the hob, sharing a grin with Mel. 

Ambessa, seeing you enter, coughed loudly to silence the squabbling. 

You wandered over nervously, resting beside her. 

“I’d just like to make everyone aware of something,” She started slowly. 

“Someone dead?” Kino muttered, staring at you. 

“No,” She held her hand up to silence him, “Nobody’s died,”

“Someone pregnant?” Mel asked. The shit stirrer. 

“No I-” Ambessa glared at her, taking a deep breath her hand gravitated towards your shoulder,“I wanted to let you know that we've decided to pursue a romantic relationship,”

“Oh,” Kino’s body tensed, “And when did you make this choice?”

“Last night,” You replied hesitantly, “Why?”

“Fuck,” He groaned to himself, a gruff laugh heard from the hob. 

“I do believe we said one thousand even,” Rictus mocked, flipping a waffle onto the boy’s plate. 

“You couldn’t have waited another twelve hours,” He grumbled, fishing for his wallet in his coat. 

“What is happening right now?” Ambessa said, voice stern. 

“I bet yesterday,” Rictus said as if it were obvious, “Wolf pup here bet today, thought you’d need a little time to warm up, silly boy,”

“You’ve been betting on our relationship?!” You cried, eyes wide as saucers. 

“I wanted to feel included somehow,” Kino whined, “Everyone was taking me out for breakfast to shut me up,” 

Your gaze turned to Mel, who held her hands up, “I knew nothing about this babe, I swear,” 

Liar. Her grin gave her away. 

Ambessa took the wad of cash from Kino’s hands before Rictus could, taking two hundred pounds from the pile, giving you a hundred and keeping the rest for herself, “Our commission,” Her voice was tiny daggers, “For entertaining you all so thoroughly,” 

Both men grumbled, though the sparkle in their eyes told them it was never really about the money, the satisfaction coming from destroying the other's pride. 

A pause, as she turned directly to her son, “You’re taking this very well, Kino, despite your usual nonsense, I am sorry for keeping you in the dark,” 

“About as dark and subtle as a bat signal, Mum,” He laughed, “I knew you’d tell me when it worked for you.

“Yes, well, thank you anyway,” Her voice was laced with sarcasm, as she kicked down his tower this time. 

The loud, nonsensical rumble of infighting filled the kitchen as her hand found yours, a tight squeeze making you smile. 

No more secrets. No more sadness. 

You were finally officially a Medarda.

[thesecondhandwoman]

HER NOXIAN KNIGHT

Mel x f!reader

Synopsis: You has become Mel’s guardian ever since she returned back home to Noxus. But what started as a professional relationship slowly turned into something more.

The air in Noxus was different from Piltover. It wasn’t the sharp tang of industry or the hum of progress. No, Noxus tasted like steel and blood, and the weight of it sat heavy on your tongue. The streets were wider but somehow more suffocating, and every glance from its people was sharper, more calculating.

But you belonged here.

You stood guard just outside the grand hall of House Medarda’s fortress, every muscle in your body taut as stone. The armor you wore was heavier than what you’d grown used to in Piltover, but it wasn’t just the steel that weighed you down. It was her.

Mel Medarda.

No longer the gilded diplomat of Piltover, she had returned home at the behest of her mother. But Noxus wasn’t a place that welcomed softness, and you’d watched her sharpen herself into something harder. She still moved with grace, still wore silk and gold like it had been spun just for her, but there was iron beneath it now.

And you were sworn to her.

At first, you told yourself it was simple duty. A knight’s purpose was to protect. But it had become more than that. Somewhere along the line, you stopped guarding Lady Medarda and started guarding Mel.

Today was one of those days when she tested you.

You felt her eyes on you long before you heard her approach. She had a way of moving that made her presence known without a sound, a predator’s grace wrapped in the scent of jasmine and incense.

“Do you ever relax, knight?” Her voice slid over you like warm honey, smooth and dangerously sweet.

You straightened even more, eyes locked forward. “I’m on duty, Lady Medarda.”

Her soft hum was almost a laugh. “You’re always on duty.” She circled you slowly, her fingertips grazing the cool edge of your shoulder pauldron. “Do you sleep like this too? Back stiff, eyes open, ready to swing a blade at a moment’s notice?”

Her teasing lilt made it difficult to keep your composure, but you’d been trained for this.

“Sleep is a luxury,” you replied, your voice firm but not unkind.

“Tch. Spoken like a true Noxian,” she said, stepping into your line of sight. Her golden eyes caught the dim torchlight, molten and piercing. “But I’m not asking Noxus for an answer. I’m asking you.”

You swallowed. Her eyes stayed on yours, heavy as a hand pressing against your chest. She’d always done this—peeled back your armor with words alone, forced you to face parts of yourself you’d rather keep buried.

“I rest when I’m needed,” you finally said. “And I’m always needed here.”

Her brow arched, lips curving into a slow, knowing smile. She stepped closer, her gaze flicking down to your lips, then back up to your eyes.

“Then who looks after you, knight?” she asked softly, tilting her head. “If you guard me, who guards you?”

You hated how easily she unraveled you. Words failed you, as they often did when she spoke like this, her voice low and close enough to make your pulse jump. You were saved by the sound of approaching footsteps from down the hall.

Mel pulled back, her gaze still on you, sharp and golden. “You should think about that,” she said, her voice suddenly cool, distant. “A sword left unattended will rust.”

Her words followed you long after she walked away, the scent of jasmine still lingering in the air.

Two weeks passed, and nothing had changed—at least, not on the surface. You still stood by her side as her shadow, silent and unyielding. But something had shifted. You felt it in every glance she spared you, every brush of her fingers against your armor, every deliberate pause before she gave you an order.

Tonight, you found yourself outside her private chambers, standing vigil while noble guests filled the halls behind you. Another Noxian gathering of generals, tacticians, and warlords eager to curry favor with the Medarda matriarch. Your ears picked up fragments of their conversations— strength, conquest, power—all the things that made Noxus Noxus.

But then you heard a voice. Hers.

“Knight. Inside. Now.”

Her voice was calm, but you knew better. She needed you. Without hesitation, you stepped inside, closing the door firmly behind you.

“Is something wrong, my lady?” you asked, your hand instinctively moving to the hilt of your sword.

Mel was seated on the edge of her bed, a goblet of red wine in her hand, the liquid swirling slowly as she gazed into its depths. Her robe, loose at the collar, slid off one shoulder, revealing smooth, golden skin. She looked tired. Not in the way of generals after a battle, but like someone who had been wearing a mask for too long.

“Sit,” she said, nodding toward the space beside her.

You hesitated. This is improper. But you weren’t just her knight, and you both knew it. Slowly, you unfastened your sword belt, setting it aside as you sat next to her, careful to keep some distance.

She glanced at you, and something softened in her expression. “You’re always so formal,” she muttered, taking a sip of wine. “So careful.”

“Care keeps you alive,” you replied, eyes forward.

“Does it?” She turned fully toward you, her knee brushing against yours. “Or does it keep you from living?”

Your breath caught, and you turned to face her. Her eyes were on you again, steady, searching. You didn’t know if it was the wine, the late hour, or the weight of the last few weeks, but you felt it, the thread pulled taut between you both.

“It’s not my place,” you said quietly, but the words felt hollow even as you said them.

Mel’s smile was slow and sharp, like a blade being unsheathed. “And if I told you it was?”

Before you could fully respond, the distance between you vanished. Her fingers found the edge of your jaw, tilting your face toward hers. Her touch was deliberate, her gaze locked onto yours like a hawk on prey.

“Do you want me to stop?” she asked, her breath warm against your lips.

You could have said yes. You could have pulled away, reclaimed your armor, and become her knight once more. But you were tired too.

“No.” You breathed, your walls crumbling down into piles of dust and ash.

You leaned forward, and she met you halfway.

The kiss was slow at first—a test, a question, a quiet rebellion. But when you didn’t pull away, Mel deepened it, her fingers threading through your hair. She tasted like wine and fire, her lips soft but her grip firm.

You slid your hands to her waist, feeling the silk slip beneath your fingers. Her robe shifted as she leaned further into you, her body warm and solid. Your heart thundered in your chest, every sense heightened to the point of aching.

“Mel,” you breathed against her lips, your voice low and rough. “We—”

“Stop thinking,” she whispered, her lips brushing against yours with each word. “For once, just be here with me.”

Her words shattered something inside you. You pulled her closer, letting the weight of duty fall away like a discarded blade. Her hands moved over your shoulders, tugging at buckles and clasps, unmaking your armor with practiced precision.

Each piece fell away, and with it, so did the walls you’d built between you.

Her mouth moved against yours, hot and slow, like she had all the time in the world. She kissed you until you forgot your title, your oaths, and the weight of Noxus itself.

For once, you let yourself be selfish.

Her breath hitched as your hands roamed over her, and she pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. Her eyes, usually so sharp, were hazy with something softer.

“You’re not just my knight,” she said quietly, running her thumb over your cheek. “You’re mine.”

There was no ceremony, no declaration of titles. Just the warmth of her touch and the taste of wine still on her lips.

And god did you love it.

A/N: Omg I need Mel in my life so damn bad. Anywho, should I do a part two, write a fanfic similar but with Sevika (knight), Mel (princess), and the reader (maid), or both?

[fairy-writes]

I feel my Arcane obsession starting to come back and the prompt "Tell me, my Dear, can a heart still be broken even when it stopped beating?" screamed Viktor at me 🥰 can I request that? Thank you very much!!

TO DIE OF A BROKEN HEART

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Prompt: “Tell me, my love, can a heart still be broken even when it stops beating?”

Fandom(s): Arcane: League of Legends (2021)

Pairing(s): Viktor x Reader

Word Count: 0.5k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Angst, Post-Season 2, Established Relationships, Major Character Death

Notes: (I changed the quote a teensy tiny bit, but I like “love” more than “dear”)

SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2 OF THE SHOW

(something short because my brain is slowly rotting away)

__________________________________________________________________________

The cemetery was desolate. Your bouquet of flowers was just as sad as the solitary headstones, but you pressed on. Your shoes crunch the gravel underfoot as you make your way toward the back of the graveyard. 

Piltover hadn’t been as noisy as it used to be since the war. In fact, it was drowning in silence.

It shouldn’t have been like this. Viktor should’ve lived a long and prosperous life with you. That was why you agreed to help fund Hextech along with Mel Medarda. To help the people, but more importantly, to help your lover. 

So… Why? Why, why, why?! 

Why had Jinx blasted the Council to smithereens?! 

Why had Viktor been there?! 

Why hadn’t he been resting like you told him to?!

And that didn’t even include what happened to the Hexcore. While you were grateful Jayce had attempted to save Viktor’s life, that sense of gratefulness quickly diminished when Viktor changed.

You get to the gravesite, and the flowers in your hand crinkle in the wrapping around the stems as you stare down at the stones before you. 

Jayce Talis

“Our future is bright.”

Viktor—

A lump unexpectedly grows in your throat, and you barely stop yourself from dropping the bouquet of flowers. So, instead, you sink to your knees and place the blooms just before Viktor’s grave. Of course, there hadn’t been a body left to bury, so part of you had held out hope. But as time went on, your hopeful flame started to diminish to embers. Until those embers went out, and you finally accepted that Viktor might really, truly be gone.

Suddenly, you’re torn from your despair by a hand on your shoulder. 

Turning, you see Mel dressed in her pristine mage robes with a bouquet of camellias clutched tightly in her hands. She offers you a sad sort of smile, and you gesture for her to kneel beside you. 

“I hope it’s alright that Jayce was buried next to Viktor. I didn’t know where else to have him buried with both his parents still alive, and the Talis household doesn’t have a burial plot yet.” You mumbled, and Mel’s smile saddened even more. 

“I’m sure he would’ve appreciated being buried next to Viktor. Someone has to keep him in line in the afterlife.” She says, and you blurt out a watery laugh. 

“Right.” Is all you manage. 

Mel stays for a while, most likely keeping an eye on you. Because out of everyone, you had taken the presumed death of the Hextech founders the hardest. Jayce was something akin to a brother to you. Viktor was… So much more. 

You two had just begun to talk about marriage before all this happened. 

But, eventually, Mel is called back to her airship to head back to Noxus and leaves you alone. However, something in her eyes made you think she might just visit again soon. 

But then you are alone, flowers slowly wilting along with your heart. 

“Tell me, my love, can a heart still be broken even when it stops beating?” You whisper to the silence, and a tear streaks your cheek when you don’t get an answer because, of course, you wouldn’t. 

So you closed your eyes…

And let darkness swallow you whole.

[girlbossmel]

Call me crazy but…

I think Mel is pregnant.

The season has already been so focused on themes of family—Jinx with Isha, the ever growing tensions between Vi and Jinx, Caitlyn losing her mother, and… Ambessa stressing once again how important family is to her.

During the funeral attack, the gun is pointed RIGHT at Mel. But they don’t fire. What if this is on purpose, either a subtle hint to the audience, or a hint that the perpetrator knows?

Then during the final episode, she gets taken by the Black Rose. Being kidnapped/facing the horrors of the literal back rooms™️ would be a little too good of a parallel to what happened to Ambessa when she was pregnant… a little too perfect.

The most convincing evidence, in my opinion, is this scene:

I’m not crazy, right??? I mean there’s always the chance they just animated her stomach rolls, but I don’t think she’s EVER been shown like this before. It looks… a little too reminiscent of a baby bump. Not to mention, we still don’t know the full story of her glowing back… and Jayce himself even comments about how they survived the attack relatively unharmed 👀

Idk guys. I’m terrified. I’m intrigued.

Save baby Medarda fr 😭💖