blasphemous-riot

Latest Posts by blasphemous-riot

please 🥺🥺

you cannot tell me this isn't just Vi's life as. Whole 😭😭😭bby girl went through so much this reminds me of herrrr what I feel like she deserves to say out loud

ok so i have a request but first i just wanna say ur writing is so cute 😭 like it gets me every time i'm giggling and kicking my feet ily

anyway can u write smth with jinx where her gf is in the hospital cause she got caught up in some kind of riot (kinda like the one isha got swept up in) and she had to get some kind of surgery and she's all loopy on the meds so when jinx is holding her hand she's like ??? I have a gf??? except jinx literally is her gf and she thinks it's funny so she's like 'yeah? what's your gf like?' and r accidentally insults her without meaning to and at the end the anesthesia wears off and she's like 'why're u laughing at me what did i say?'

just smth cute like that

of course!! thank you for the request <3

i appreciate the words a lot you’re so sweet! ilyt, i hope i did your request justice :)

summary; jinx’s girlfriend gets injured during the riot. she wakes up in the hospital, loopy, and forgets she has a girlfriend.

characters included; jinx, sevika (platonic), isha (mentioned, platonic/familial)

tags/warnings; fluff, crack (kinda), very minor hurt/comfort, mentions of war/combat, r gets injured

men dni.

you're not sure exactly what happened, and jinx isn't either.

it started with a rally in the undercity to protest against the brutality of piltover's enforcers. gas, mass arrests, and sheer brutality drove the people of zaun to organize, though what they wanted most was jinx.

jinx, zaun's royalty as they saw her- a young woman who wasn't afraid to stand up against piltover's regime. they saw her as a symbol, but those who knew jinx can attest that she never wanted that status. she's always been a bit selfish, seeking only to protect herself and those she loved. being dubbed a symbol was of no interest to her, and being at a rally was even less interesting.

but it happened, and jinx curses herself for not having been there.

all she's been able to gather is from word of mouth. you got beaten pretty badly apparently, having been slammed up against a metal fence, stabbed in the side, and punched until you damn near lost consciousness. then kicked until you did. it wasn't until around twenty minutes after that a medical team was called, and it took even longer for them to actually get there. distance between cities aside, piltover has never been enthusiastic about providing the undercity their services.

and that's all she's been able to get. nothing about your recovery, your whereabouts, if they were able to get a pulse from you and bring you back to consciousness. nothing.

not only did isha get sent to stillwater, but you were severely injured. even as your girlfriend was ecstatic to retrieve isha from her cell and free other zaunites, it all circled back to you.

she doesn't just want you, and doesn't just want isha. she wants the family that she's built together. she goes through the motions of playing with the little girl, trying to put on a brave face while they set off glitter bombs and isha's infectious laughter rings through the air. but it doesn't compare to you being there, the both of you playing with her and making her laugh.

you should be by jinx's side, holding her from behind and peering over her shoulder at isha's newest adventure. brushing the girl's hair while jinx (tries to) makes food for the three of you, helping paint the toys jinx made, but you're in a hospital bed somewhere in piltover that nobody has been able to crack yet. it drives her near insane.

the door to the hideout opens though, and sevika half peers through. jinx can hear creaking, but only rolls her eyes without turning around.

"not interested," she deadpans.

"i'm sure you're not," sevika huffs, but that doesn't deter her. "she's in a hospital not far from the council building. apparently she's awake. thought you might want to know that, at least."

that catches jinx's attention. her head snaps around, brows furrowing. "you're serious?"

"would i have come here if i wasn't?"

of course she wouldn't have. sevika's a busy woman and time is her currency- so within seconds, jinx is tossing her boots on and bolting toward the exit with a one-track mind.

"stay here with isha, would you?"

with the way the girl is rushing out, it doesn't give sevika much choice. she sighs, looking over to the little girl absorbed in coloring and sits next to her.

"looks like it's you and me for a while, kid."

✧.*

you're lucky jinx loves you, because it took a good twenty minutes just for her to be cleared to visit you.

"no, i don't have any explosives, no, i'm not here to push an agenda, no, i'm not causing any trouble. i just want to visit my girlfriend."

"but-"

"janna above- just let me see her. you'd think this stuff would be easier..."

her heart is beating like a war drum when she approaches the room. there's a clear door and a little curtain obscuring her view of the bed, but she can see an iv bag. numerous tubes connecting to your hidden body, and a heart monitor. she doesn't know much about medicine, but the steady beep, beep, beep of the monitor is a momentary relief to the girl. at least you're stable.

she steps inside, knocking on the inside of the doorframe slowly.

"hey, toots..." she starts, slowly opening the curtain to reveal your form. you're still bruised, but the swelling that must've been there before is mostly gone. your eyes are lost in a far-off stare while she carefully sits down on the edge of the bed. "i'm so glad you're okay. i wanted to visit earlier, i did, just..."

her slender fingers slowly slot between yours, and she finds your gaze meeting hers within seconds. there you are, she thinks. there's those pretty eyes. "hey," you murmur.

just that word is enough to bring tears to jinx's eyes. it takes everything in her power to not just pounce on you, bury her head in your neck while she trembles and cries and clings to you, but that's the last thing you need. especially after just getting out of surgery.

"i should've been there," she breathes out, her voice trembling softly. "i'm your girlfriend, you got hurt and i was just sitting on my ass, and... oh, fuck, i'm so sorry."

a beat of silence, and your brows furrow. then you tilt your head... what is going through your head right now? this isn't the reaction jinx was expecting.

"...i have a girlfriend?"

the words are like a blow to the girl's chest, her eyes widening as her face inches closer to yours. suddenly, the tears are gone.

"uh, yeah? you've had a girlfriend for the past what- eight months?"

you let out a little gasp, your mouth forming an 'o' shape. "really?"

how could you not remember that? you and jinx have been together for close to a year now and near inseparable, and now you just... forgot? but she looks around, she sees the monitors and wires and breathalyzer... right. you just got out of surgery. you're loopy.

"wow..." you murmur, your words slurring together the slightest bit. "i do? what's she like?"

and, well.. jinx would be a damn fool if she didn't have at least some fun with this. she sits back on the edge, flicking one of her braids over her shoulder with a toothy grin.

"well," she starts. "she's amazing. smoking hot, of course, and super smart. like, a genius. she's funny, and talented, she's something of a hero... you know. the whole shebang."

your eyes light up at the description, and it takes everything jinx has to not burst out laughing on the spot.

"she sounds great," you gasp, lips tugging into a little smile. in this barely-there state where you're seeing this beautiful girl you barely recognize in front of you, these words are a shock. you've had a girlfriend this time, and you didn't know? "when can i see her? where is she?"

jinx chuckles softly, letting out an amused sigh and shaking her head.

"you'll see her soon enough. she's closer than ya think, love."

you're about to sit back against the pillows again before a thought occurs to you.

"do you have a girlfriend?"

the girl stares at you incredulously for a minute, blinking. you must be really out of it- but it draws an actual laugh from her.

"i do, yeah," she huffs. "she's great, too. beautiful, talented, funny, sweet... basically perfect."

"aw, damn it..."

✧.*

a few hours, jinx getting food from the hospital's cafeteria, and jinx is back at your door. she would've been there sooner, but those pesky doctors just had to run some tests to make sure you were in stable condition after the operation.

she peers in the slightest bit to see you writing in something, a journal, presumably. she just barely steps in before your gaze lands on her, and you're beaming.

"jinx, you're here!" she hears from inside the room, and there's that smile she loves so much. she's quick to sit back on the edge of the bed, and you're even quicker to wrap your arms around her waist. the best you can while hooked up to tubes, anyways. "i wanted to talk to you, just.. i still haven't gotten my phone back."

and while she's ecstatic that you actually remember her now, she can't help but stifle a laugh. because you don't remember a damn thing about earlier.

"...hey, what's that look for?"

the dam breaks. she's laughing, doubled-over full belly laughing and you're left there, wide-eyed and bewildered.

"babe- hey! what's so funny?"

"i... jeez, i'm sorry, just, earlier you said-"

this only causes further confusion as your brows knit together and you try to turn your girlfriend to face you once again, though to no avail.

"you visited earlier? oh shit- i... what did i say?"

jinx is breathless between laughter and trying oh so hard to keep it together so she can just tell you. you were so damn loopy on those painkillers that you don't remember completely forgetting you have a girlfriend and asking if she was single, and she doesn't know if she has the heart to tell you.

"yeah, uh," she breathes out. "don't worry about it. it was nothing."

maybe she'll tell you after you've been discharged.

I really want to take care of her sooo badddd 😭🖐️ give her all the love she deserves!! She deserves princess treatment!! She deserves all the hugs and kisses!! She deserves tasty home cooked meals!!she is such under appreciated character by the creators.......

Omw to ven in c.ai

What if she is kissing me but then stops to take off my glasses using her teeth then kisses me again ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

A girl can dream 😔

Just a reminder nobody wiped away her tears

Hello 😊

I want to request some soft morning fluff with Sevika or Ambessa. Waking up in each other arms, slow morning vibes.

Thank you so much ❤️

Love youuu and your writing 😘

- t.04 🦇

Waking Up With Them (Ft. Sevika & Ambessa Medarda)

₊˚⊹ᰔ Sevika ₊˚⊹ᰔ

When you wake up next to Sevika, she's snoring softly. Not as loud as she is during the night but the sound is now soft and relaxed. Her arm is wrapped around your waist and mechanical arm rested on the bedside table so she wouldn't hurt you by accident.

Sevika's eyebrows were slightly knitted together into some sort of expression of relaxation but you couldn't exactly place it. You sigh and place your arms around her broad shoulders as you run your hands through her hair. The chirping of the birds outside wakes you up every morning and so the both of you don't need to set an alarm.

You yawn, squeezing your eyes shut for a bit before reopening them and looking at Sevika.

"Baby, wake up," you mumble and kiss down her jaw, "Wakey, darling," you call out again.

Sevika groans and lets go of your waist, turning around and hogging most of the blanket. You shake your head and grab her shoulder, pulling it to make her turn to your side again, "Baby, wake up! You'll be late!"

Sevika's grey eyes snap open and she groans. Her flesh hand reaches to rub her eyes groggily as she sits up hastily. You remain laid next to her as you watch her regain her bearings. She looks at you with her tired, sunken eyes.

"Another Tuesday," Sevika grumbles.

"Another Tuesday," you repeat and pull her into your chest so her her head was laid on your chest, listening to the soothing sound of your heartbeat, "I'll make you pancakes for breakfast."

Sevika grins, "The fluffy ones?"

"Mhm," you hum back.

"I love you."

"I love you too, you big cuddle bear."

₊˚⊹ᰔ Ambessa Medarda ₊˚⊹ᰔ

When you wake up next to Ambessa, you're suddenly not next to her anymore. She's not there. The luxurious, silken bedsheets now feel worthless without her warmth and imposing figure snuggled close to you. You groan and turn onto your back, staring at the expensive ceiling with squinting eyes.

"Good morning, dearest," Ambessa's voice rings out suddenly and you look at her, eyes slightly wide.

"Oh, hi..." You shuffle to sit up, back leaning against the headboard, "Good morning." You yawn, "When did you wake up?"

"5:00 am," Ambessa answers and stirs with a spoon that was dwarfed by her hand, the small china cup of tea on the table forms a small cloud of honey tea, "I was training."

"Oh," you watch her walk to you with the tea, grinning at her, "Thanks," you take it and take a sip from the cup, "It's really good," you say with a smile. You set the cup away, "Come here."

"I'm—" Ambessa sighs, "—sweaty."

She finishes and takes a step away from the bed. Not a big step, just a little bit distance. You sigh and extend your arms, "Get over here." You say, you knew all Ambessa wants to do, seeing your sleep-drunken figure, is hug you tight.

"I hope you know, this is less than ideal," Ambessa says but she doesn't waste a second, diving in and tackling you to lay back onto the bed. You squeak and giggle heartily. Ambessa stuffs her face in your neck and kisses down your collarbone.

"Now, it's a good morning."

Title: The Wolf and The Ghost

Pairing: Ambessa Medarda x Reader

Summary: After the war ends, Ambessa is left haunted by the loss of the one person she truly loved, Reader, who vanished after she chose ambition over their relationship.

Warnings: None

MEN & MINORS DNI: 18+ ONLY!!!

————————————————————————

The war ended, and the world kept turning. Cities rebuilt. Alliances were redrawn in blood and ink. Monuments went up to honor the dead. And Ambessa Medarda stood in the center of it all, a general, a strategist, a war hero.

And utterly alone.

She had the world’s respect, yes. Power in abundance. But no one to share it with.

Because you were gone.

You left her before the final siege. You’d watched too long from the sidelines as she let ambition carve the warmth out of her. You gave her warnings, soft at first, words by candlelight, hands on her cheek, begging her to choose you. But war always came first.

You left without ceremony. No goodbye, no note. Just vanished. She came home from council chambers to an empty apartment and a silence so complete it roared.

She told herself you’d come back. Of course you would. You loved her.

Didn’t you?

⸻

Weeks turned into months. The war ended, but she didn’t go home, what was left of home, anyway, with your scent long gone from her sheets?

Instead, she went looking.

First, she sent letters to your family. No answer. Then she sent soldiers. No sign.

After that, she went herself.

She walked through mud-soaked markets and highborn halls. She questioned people who hadn’t seen you in years. She hunted you like an enemy, her desperation barely hidden beneath sharp words and colder threats.

“Tell me where she is,” she hissed to a man in Piltover who claimed he once sold you paints. “I’ll burn this district down if you lie to me.”

He hadn’t lied. He just hadn’t known.

She searched for you in cities scarred by war, in the ruins of Zaun, in the red-lit brothels of Navori, even in the temples of Ionia, hoping maybe you’d gone there seeking peace, something she’d never been able to give you.

But every time she thought she was close, the trail went cold. You were always one step ahead, like you knew she was coming.

Sometimes, she thought you were punishing her. And maybe she deserved it.

⸻

She began to see you in dreams. Not the gentle ones no, Ambessa didn’t get those. Hers were jagged. You stood at the edge of her battlefield, drenched in blood and rain, whispering, “You never chose me.” She always woke with your name on her lips and her hands clenched in her sheets, furious with herself for dreaming at all.

She kept your locket in her coat pocket. The one you gave her the night before you left. She never opened it, she couldn’t. It felt like a grave.

⸻

Then came Zaun.

A diplomatic mission, they said. Negotiations, they said. But Ambessa didn’t give a damn about the papers. Something told her, intuition, maybe that you were here.

It was raining, because of course it was. The city always seemed to weep.

She wandered for hours, cloak soaked through, eyes burning from smoke and memories. And then, down a crooked alley with flickering lights and the smell of tea and burnt bread, she saw a shadow behind a rain-streaked window.

And her heart stopped.

You were sitting at a low table, face half-lit by a lamp. You looked… different. Softer, quieter. You had lines around your eyes that hadn’t been there before. But you were still you. Still her.

Ambessa didn’t enter like a general. She entered like a ghost.

The bell above the door didn’t ring. Or maybe she didn’t hear it over the roar in her ears.

You looked up.

She watched you freeze.

No tears. No smile. No embrace. Just silence.

“I heard you were alive,” you said.

“I was,” she rasped, voice wrecked. “But not without you.”

You blinked. Looked down at your tea.

“That’s dramatic. Even for you.”

She didn’t laugh. She couldn’t.

“I looked for you,” she said.

“I didn’t want to be found.”

“I know.”

You looked up at her then, eyes tired. “So why are you here?”

“Because I don’t want to win if I have to do it without you.”

You exhaled, slowly. “That’s not how it works, Ambessa. You made your choices.”

“I made the wrong ones.”

You nodded. Said nothing.

She sat, uninvited, desperate now. “Tell me what to do. I’ll do it. You want me to leave the empire? I will. You want me to beg? I—” her voice caught, “—I’ll kneel. I’ve done worse for far less.”

You stared at her. Something in your expression cracked, and your voice came quieter than before.

“You think I wanted you to suffer? That I left to punish you?”

Ambessa said nothing.

“I left because staying was killing me. Because I loved you, and you loved war.”

She bowed her head. The rain outside seemed to hush, waiting.

“I don’t know how to be what you deserve,” she whispered. “But I want to try. If you’ll let me.”

You were quiet for a long, long time.

Then, slowly, you reached across the table. Your hand touched hers.

Her breath caught like a sob in her throat.

“I’m not who I was, Ambessa.”

“Neither am I.”

A beat.

“…Then maybe we can meet again. As who we are now.”

Your fingers tightened around hers. And for the first time in a year, the storm in her chest began to calm.

————————————————————————-

You are gorgeous omg

Aww thankyou so much love🥺🥺🥺

are there any desi queer people out there in Tumblr ☹️😔

A slutty little waist is amazing but have you considered love handles? They are perfect and comfortable to hold and rest your hand on.....Just saying→⁠_⁠→

⋆✮⋆.˚Karlach ⋆✮⋆.˚:

Drabbles:

⟢Karlach x f!reader x Minthara⟢

⟢ Jealous?⟢

⟢Karlach x Werewolf! gf ⟢

⟢Compromising position ⟢

⟢Karlach x Bard!reader⟢

⟢ Reacting to You Having a Child ⟢

⟢Shapeshifter !⟢

⟢Soft Moments⟢

⟢Surprise kiss!⟢

⟢No more revivify for you⟢

⟢Karlach x Aasimar!reader⟢

⟢Jealousy, Jealousy ⟢

⟢Beach⟢

⟢Sibling Reunion ⟢

⟢All you feel is RAGE⟢

⟢Kindapped by Orin⟢

⟢Ass handed to you⟢

⟢Ladies x transfem!reader⟢

⟢Silly Sacrifice ⟢

⟢You Spin Me Right Round⟢

⟢Hell hath no fury like an Aasimar scorned⟢

⟢Don't threaten the pregnant lady⟢

⟢Sadness creeps in⟢

⟢Scratch me up⟢

⟢Squirt NSFW⟢

⟢Bigger brood than expected⟢

⟢Broken Oath⟢

⟢Fireball⟢

⟢Fireball pt 2⟢

⟢Fall for you (Aasimar!reader)⟢

⟢Here for you⟢

⟢As an auntie/mother⟢

⟢Got you!⟢

⟢Inexperienced⟢

⟢Overstimulation NSFW⟢

⟢Deadly Duo⟢

⟢Opened my Heart⟢

⟢General fluff⟢

⟢All too much⟢

⟢The Orin Dilemma⟢

⟢Not on my watch⟢

⟢Gentle Giant⟢

⟢Not your tent⟢

⟢Fainting ⟢

⟢Calming Kisses⟢

⟢Druid tattoos⟢

⟢Your blood on my hands⟢

⟢My Oath⟢

⟢Can't walk after a night of passion⟢

⟢Lost horn⟢

⟢What she did to you⟢

⟢Aasimar tav Drabble⟢

⟢Family Rejection⟢

⟢Karlach x plus!reader| Drive me wild⟢

⟢Touching Foreheads⟢

⟢Tiny Tav⟢

⟢Menzoberranzen⟢

⟢Revived⟢

⟢Lean on me⟢

⟢Tune ups⟢

⟢Ersatz eye⟢

⟢I'm Mother?⟢

⟢Opened mind⟢

⟢Turn ons⟢

⟢Never again, babe!⟢

⟢What a voice⟢

⟢I went too far⟢

⟢Adopted by The In-laws ⟢

⟢Welcome Karlach (Aasimar Tav)⟢

⟢Your Turn, Babe⟢

⟢Hand in Hand⟢

⟢Jealous of a plushie⟢

⟢A Poetic Attempt⟢

⟢Big Tatas⟢

⟢The Greatest Beast⟢

⟢Favourite Beast⟢

⟢Dhampiric Revelations⟢

⟢Proposal⟢

⟢Tinkering till I Bleed⟢

⟢Thinking the BG3 Ladies are Cheating on You⟢

⟢Family Life (Stepchild series)⟢

⟢Kaleidoscope Eyes⟢

⟢Druidic Tendencies ⟢

⟢Massage⟢

⟢Astral-Touched Tadpole⟢

⟢Positive Reinforcement (Durge)⟢

⟢Fierce Protector⟢

⟢Halloween⟢

⟢The World Is Ours⟢

⟢The Life We Build⟢

.𖥔 ݁ ˖BG3 Ships Masterlist𖥔 ݁ ˖

Being touch starved and touch repulsed at the same time is such a weird combination, as if two totally different entities reside within me, one part loves hugs, holding hands, etc, another part is scared to even give a simple high-five.....like how do I deal with it I want a partner to hug her, give her hugs and kisses but at the same time i am like ew humans ew :( such a dilemma

HELLOO! (⁠☆⁠▽⁠☆⁠)

My name is Rai, I am 18 years old, my pronouns are she/her, I am pansexual and demisexual and I love quiet activities like reading, sketching, paper crafts, mehandi art, cooking, and stuff. I am an introvert, and my MBTI is INFP

♡

I enjoy watching horror and thriller movies. My favourites are Lights Out, Train to Busan, Tumbbad, and the Conjuring series. I love animated shows like Arcnae (utterly obsessed) and The Blue Eye Samurai

♡

I love reading and yapping about the recent book I've read. I mostly read fiction but dabble in socio-political and history books ^⁠_⁠^ I enjoy sweet and spicy food, especially noodles, idk I just have a special love for them. I love watching anime, especially slice of life or something with a huge emotional impact, my favourite being Bananafish

✿

Would love to meet people here and get to know them ʕ⁠っ⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠ʔ⁠っ

Racists , homophobics, transphobics, misogynists,etc Please don't interact get help instead :⁠-⁠) respectfully so

I don't want to be a party pooper but the lesbian community still has so much fatphobia and lookism to unlearn, it's genuinely sad. I always want to elaborate but every time this topic comes around it feels like screaming at the wall.

Learn to love fat femmes. Not "because they are soft", not because there "is more to bite". Love and respect fat femmes for who they are.

Same goes for fat butches, they are not only lovable because "they are beefy" or "they can put their weight on you" or some other shit. They are lovable because they are themselves, just like you are you.

You don't have to make us feel better about ourselves with all these backhanded compliments. Just make us feel like everyone else and start viewing fat bodies as normal and desirable ones without making it weird.

It is so unfair I have thick plush thighs but no dyke to lay her head on them :(

power couple | vi, arcane

basketball player! vi x cheerleader! reader

warning/s: cursing, minor injury (?)

summary: in which you and vi have been keeping your relationship a secret from the public, but that was until an unfortunate injury during the nationals.

note: i am so sorry if this sucks lmao, i haven’t written anything in like almost a year. also i’ve been obsessed with the wnba lately so expect the next few fics to be basketball related… oops! also i have zero knowledge about cheer and about a 30% knowledge when it comes to basketball. anyways i hope you guys enjoy! sorry for any mistakes and spelling errors, also i had no idea how to end that. plus this fic was written at 3 in the morning.

hiding your relationship from the public has never been easy, but you and vi have both agreed that it would be for the best knowing that both of your lives will always be under the watchful eye of the public. your friends have been very helpful in helping hide the relationship, but with all the rumours going around and “evidence” circulating the media they could only do so much. especially when vi has a habit of always needing to touch you, and you being a sucker for vi’s touch.

exhibit a:

after a tough but rewarding game against piltover university, zaun’s basketball team decided to celebrate by going to the last drop for a round of drinks. jinx, in true jinx fashion, decided to host a live on one of her social media platforms. the live started out quite normal, fans asking questions, fans wanting to see specific team members etc.

“yo vi,” jinx called out to her sister. “the fans wanted to see you.” she then panned the camera to her right, showing vi sitting at the corner of the booth with you on her lap and her head on your shoulder.

sevika, who was standing next to jinx snatched her phone away, her eyes bulging from her head as she nodded towards vi and you. jinx laughed nervously and immediately changed the topic, as you hopped o vi’s lap (much to vi’s dismay).

@iluvbball: DID U GUYS SEE THAT

@munchmadness: WAS THAT A GIRL ON VI’S LAP???

@zaunbball4ever: call me crazy but is that (name)??? lLIKE CHEER CAPTAIN (NAME)??

sevika snorts and rolled her eyes, “you guys are crazy. there’s no way vi can pull her or anyone actually.” jinx nods in agreement, yapping about how she would know since she’s vi sister.

you rolled your eyes playfully at two, snickering as you ordered another round of drinks. vi squeezes next to jinx to say hi to the live, lying through her teeth saying that she just came back from the bathroom but the fans weren’t having it.

@igotjinxed: STOP LYINGG

@sevikasarms: bro ur nose is growing stop lying

@ilovegert: no because who else would have that fuckass haircut???

“yo leave my haircut out of this,” vi whined as her teammates cackled, which only made the fans eat the dating rumour up.

exhibit b:

after the chaotic live at the lost drop, you and vi (plus the whole basketball team) decided to be more careful. always making sure to hide from the cameras, started to plan date nights in your dorms, and just trying to tone down your interactions.

during your one year anniversary, vi booked a weekend getaway for the two of you at a cabin located in a small town two hours away from zaun. the two of you were still cautious of course, wearing your caps low and sunglasses resting on your noses. but of course, it’s still not enough.

during your last night at the cabin, you and vi decided to visit the village park to check out the local festival. the two of you were seated at one of the benches watching the fireworks when a camera flash from the distance caught your eye. vi froze as you buried your head in her neck,

“did you think they caught our faces?” you whispered as vi placed her arm around you, her hands covering your face. she shook her head, “i don’t think so, plus we both have our hoods up so they can’t drag my hair into this.’

you giggled, “poor you.”

the next day, on your back to zaun university, a call from sevika interrupted you and vi’s road trip karaoke sesh.

“have you guys opened any of your social media accounts?” she screeched, holding jinx’s cracked phone up. lo and behold, it was the picture from last night. vi’s arms around you, your head on her shoulder, but the two of you had your backs turned from whoever took the picture. the photos were grainy, a bit blurry, but there was one where you can make out the faint features of vi’s side profile as her head faces you. a small tuft of her pink hair peeking from her jackets hood, her crooked nose adorned with her nose piercing, and those powder blue eyes soft with affection.

you shrugged, “i don’t think its that bad.” vi nods in agreement, keeping her eyes on the road. “we literally have seen worse,” she added.

when the call ended, you decided to open your socials making sure you were using one of your dump accounts. “the comments are crazy,” you laughed, reading vi your favorites.

@nationsnumber1: okay but this is actually so sweet i want to cuddle and watch the fireworks too

@wassapphic: idek if this is actually vi and (name) like pls its so grainy and they’re not even facing the camera BUT this is so them coded

@iluvwomenwhohoops: nah man see that pink hair in the last photo??

@hoopsalot: idc if this isn’t them, my delusional heart say it is

exhibit c:

one of the perks of being in the cheer team is that you get to watch to vi play and cheer for her at the same time without anyone twisting it into something else. so here you are, courtside with the rest of the cheer team, clutching your pompoms as vi and the girls go neck to neck with piltover for the nationals.

every time vi shoots a three (or a two) she shoots you a quick glance, a smug smile on her face. she’s been doing this since the two of you started dating, but she’s been way more obvious about it recently. her gaze would linger, hell she’d even shoot a wink and it was enough for fans to notice. the next thing you know edits of you and her starts taking the internet by storm. but the crowd’s favorite edit is probably the one that has guilty as sin by taylor swift as the background music of a video compilation of you and vi.

@zaunufaves: is this wlw?

@getmiloed: you mean GAYlty as sin

@wlwbballs: i love the basketball player x cheerleader trope

@basketbawler: very “he was a punk and she did ballet” coded

“so much for being subtle violet,” you sighed, resting your head on her shoulder as the two of you scroll through tiktok.

—

it’s been two years of you and vi hiding your relationship from the public, but at this this point the whole world believes that there truly is something between you and her. the only reason why it’s not official yet is because, well, the two of you haven’t hard launched or confirmed anything. during interviews where reporters would bring up your relationship status, the two of you would always redirect the question or answer neutrally, not really denying or confirming anything. but that was until the nationals, zaun university vs the university of piltover. the game of the century, violet lanes vs. caitlyn kiramman, coach vander vs. coach silco.

the game was tough, both teams are going neck to neck, at the end of the second quarter piltover and zaun were tied 38-38. both teams were getting ready to head into their locker room to regroup and discuss the game plan, which means it was time for the cheer teams to shine. on your way to the court, you passed by the team and a series of “goodluck’ were exchanged.

“i’ll be watching you baby,” vi whispered under her breath as she passed by you, jinx groaned in annoyance and pushed her inside the tunnel after giving you and the other cheerleaders a high five.

ekko, one of your spotters and jinx’s boyfriend, elbowed you. “man you guys are so obvious.” he teases, you laughed and rolled your eyes. “let’s just focus on the routine.”

the routine went well as expected, heck it was perfect. your coach smiled and cheered from the sidelines, proud of you and the rest of the cheer team. as you guys got into the last part of the routine, somehow something went wrong. during one of the last stunts, one where you were thrown in the air, one that you and your team have practically perfected, you slipped. one second you’re in the air and the next thing you know you were falling. you tried your best to land on your feet in attempt to somewhat save the routine, but the landing was off as expected (since you weren’t supposed to land on the ground at all).

you clutched your ankle in pain, face paling as you looked at the way it bended unnaturally. your team scattered around you, shouting for medic and blocking you from the camera’s view. you laid there, tears streaming your face as your ankle swell up. your coach knelt next to you, “you did great (name), you’re okay.” she whispered ass you apologize profusely.

as you tried to even your breaths out, you heard vi shouting.

“move!” your girlfriend shouted, squeezing through the huddle your teammates made. vi was immediately on your side, her hands cupping your face. “you’re okay baby, breathe for me.”

“what are you doing here?” you whispered, ignoring your coach’s stare. “the media will—“

vi shuts you up with a kiss, “fuck that. you’re injured (name), i don’t care what they say.”

you nodded, resting you head on her lap as you waited for the medical team to arrive.

ekko handed you a towel which vi draped over your head as they loaded you to the stretcher. you can’t help but groan when your ankle was moved, vi immediately gripped your hands and told you that it was going to be okay, that the pain will be temporary. as the medics take you away vi followed, well attempted to but you shooed her away.

“you have a game to play violet,” you whispered harshly. she shakes her head, “but i want to be beside you, help you feel better.”

“the only thing you can do to help me feel better is if you win this vi,” you argued. “you practiced and trained your whole life for this and i’ll be damned if i let you miss it just because i got my ankle sprained.”

vi sighs, she squeezed your hand tight. “you sure?”

“knock ‘em dead violet,” you smiled, squeezing her hand back. vi nods slowly as she let your hand go, but before she went back to her team she pulled you in for a kiss. you kissed her back, a soft sigh escaping your lips when she pulled away. “make sure you watch yeah?” you replied with a nod before ushering her away as the medical team took you to a tent.

—

as the medics treat your ankle, you watched a live recording of the game on your phone. two quarters later, zaun emerges victorious winning this year’s national.

“oh thank god,” you murmured. you quickly sent vi and the rest of the team a short congratulatory text before putting your attention back to the livestream. a smile formed on your lips as members of the basketball team were pulled individually for short interviews, you laughed at how everyone was energized and pumped up (especially jinx who was literally vibrating during interview). then last but not the least was vi, your girl had a huge grin on her face as she happily answered the reporter’s questions but you could tell she wanted to get out of there quick.

“okay vi last question,” the reporter said. “during the halftime cheer performance, we all saw how you ran to cheer captain (name)’s side. heck, you even helped her onto the stretcher and refused to leave her side until she told you to go play and win tonight. the two of you have always never denied nor confirm the dating rumour that’s been brewing for two years now, but i think tonight changes that now? especially because of the sweet kiss you shared before you went back courtside, any comments?”

you groaned, completely forgetting about the kiss. you watched vi, you can see the cogs in her head turning. she stayed quiet for a minute, you knew how important it is for her to ask your opinion on what to and what not to say publicly about your relationship, but at this point the kiss pretty much confirms it.

“yeah i guess the cat’s out of the bag.” vi smiles at the camera and shrugs, “(name) and i have been together for awhile now. we weren’t really trying to keep it a secret, just private. but tonight changes it you know? seeing my girl get injured like that was just— yeah.”

the reporter nods, “thank you vi. before you go, is there anything you want to say to her? knowing that she’s watching this?”

“hey baby.” vi smiles cheekily at the camera. “i cannot thank you enough for the support and motivation. i couldn’t have done it without you, i love you so much my cheerleader.” she winked as everyone laughs.

“sweet, thanks vi.” the reporter said as vi went back to her team as they presented trophies. “there you have it folks, this year’s national champions and couple of the year.”

your jaw drops, you were absolutely speechless. the nurse who sat at the desk near you let’s out a chuckle which only made your cheeks grew 10x redder than it was.

—

“i swear the internet is eating this up,” jinx said, as you and the rest of your friend group lounged at vi’s dorm. jinx’s phone was connected to the tv as everyone watched replays of the games, fan edits, and fan reactions to the championship game. you and vi were tucked away at the corner of the couch, your feet propped up on one of foot rests as she cuddled you.

after a couple of minutes of mindlessly scrolling through tiktok, jinx stumbled upon a new fan edit of you and vi. the clips were taken from her interview and the kiss that happened on live tv.

“i cannot believed you guys did that,” sevika said as she shook her head, laughing as jinx scrolled through the comments projecting it through the tv.

@ho0p3r: AND THE GAYS WIN AGAIN

@iloveyn: i told you guys they were dating! can’t believe i got called crazy for shipping them

@zaunch33r: this may or may not be the best thing to happen in women’s college bball

@ynandvi4ever: (ship name) deniers how are ya’ll feeling

@sapph1csports: me and WHO

you rolled your eyes playfully and just buried your face in vi’s chest as she laughed. she pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “at least we won’t have to spout anymore stupid excuses.”

Crocodile Tears ── Lady Dimitrescu ౨ৎ˚₊

tlder; your mistress needs you cw: grief, blood, comfort w/c: 900

Loud wails echoed through the halls, rattling the fragile antiques. Maids rushed through, in and out. They knew not to utter a word to the lady of the house, the one who was lamenting so late into the night. Grieving her daughters who were stolen from her was not an uncommon way for her to be, but the tears were.

The lady of the house never cried, not even so much as a silent tear, too consumed instead by anger. Hearing her glass-shattering weeps was almost more frightening than the face of her anger, the splatters of blood as she tore someone apart. It seemed that even she was at a loss on how to stop them.

Maids flooded from her room, each offering a futile attempt at comforting her. Some tried tissues, others wine and blood, but most were lucky to leave again with their throat still intact. Their heads were low, afraid to get too close to their lady in this unusual state of emotion.

The large woman lay draped across her bed in a laced nightgown, her pale cheeks stained with dark mascara that dripped down her chin. Her eyes were wide under a heavily drawn brow as she barked at the annoying little women who offered little to ease her. She wasn't sure herself why she couldn't stop crying; perhaps it was grief or anger, a flustering storm of built-up feelings.

The lady sat with a vicious snarl, scratching at the bedpost as her cries kept the entire manor awake. There was only one person that she permitted in her chambers, and that was you.

"All of you, out. Bring her to me.."

Her voice rattled the walls, loud and thrust with an anger that nobody dared question. The maidens fluttered out of her chambers like doves once dismissed.

You knew long ago that you were her favourite handmaiden, the one who she would allow to handle her jewellery or fasten her corset. She would often keep you in her bed or carry you around, simply because she desired your company.

Oftentimes she was docile, a threatening hand scratching along your torso with sharp nails as you read Shakespeare to her. Other times she had her fangs buried deep into your neck, drinking until you lost consciousness. You'd wake up bandaged, of course; she wasn't a complete monster.

Her jaw was bared in irritation that you had yet to come check on her, despite the many tasks she'd already assigned to you. It wasn't her fault that she needed you, and the tears continued to flood from her eyes in a fit of frustration and impatience.

You made your way upstairs from the parlour, holding your dark skirt with one hand as her violent wails filled your ears. She had you dressed in black lace for her, she preferred you that way. A ghost of a sigh left your lips as your footsteps echoed through the long hallway that led to her chambers.

You weren't entirely sure what to expect. You'd dealt with her anger, her hunger, her sadistic pleasure. This was grief, sadness and you weren't so sure if you would be able to comfort her. After a gentle knock on the large wooden door, she granted you permission.

Her head thrust up when you entered, piercing yellow eyes staring at you in the dimly lit bedroom. Even by the door you could see the mascara dripping down her face, her face scrunched up as she gestured for you to approach.

You moved over politely, your arms still behind your back. No matter how close you got to her, the lady always demanded your manners. You hoist yourself up ever so slightly onto her bed, where she stared you down. It was difficult to read that pale face, especially when she refused to speak.

You slowly grabbed onto her arms, pulling her closer to you. You managed to get her up against your chest, and she continued to weep against your skin. Her grip was almost bruising, tears drenching your bust while you got an arm most of the way around her large shoulder. Your other hand moved to her hair that fell in loose curls, stroking them with an almost tender touch.

"Why can't I stop crying, mouse?"

Her voice was still low, a command even in this state of vulnerability. She needed you to tell her why she felt this way, why her tears refused to slow. You swallowed, unsure how to proceed.

"You are grieving, my lady.."

Your voice came soft, polite yet personal. It was why you were her favourite. She lifted her face from your breast, eyes still so full of hate and anger despite the tears that floated through them. Despite her irritation, though, she couldn't deny the truth in your words. You understood she wanted silence now, so you let her lie against you.

The small fall and rise of your torso soothed her, the mascara dried for now, though you knew it would be a long night for you yet.

vi x gn!reader | jayvik

synopsis: you and viktor observe your partners get up to stupid shit.

a/n: very much based on vi and jayce being bookstreet when together.

"what are you doing?" viktor asks, seeing you perched by the window as you look out of it. "any interesting birds about?"

"yes, i'm a cat, haha," you reply dryly, shooting viktor an amused glance as he chuckles. "no, look." you gesture with your chin to vi and jayce who are currently on the roof of the opposite building. "i have a tale of idiocy to share."

"oh god," viktor sighs. "what happened?"

"so vi," you start, pointing to vi who's standing over jayce. jayce who happens to be creating something; he's creating wings. "said that she bets she could fly if she flapped her arms really fast and had a running start."

viktor already looks tired. "mhm, and did you say that's physically impossible?" he asks, and you nod solemnly.

"i did," you say. "and jayce backed me up...for a minute before vi somehow convinced him it was physically possible."

viktor shrugs. "not surprising. vi is very persuasive."

"unfortunately," you agree. "so they spent the afternoon drafting up plans for wings made of cardboard." you give viktor a look. "y'know, a prototype."

"of course," viktor says. "all good projects need one."

your lips twitch with the beginnings of a smile. "anyway, i'm watching to see the inevitable failure and rush out with medical aid."

viktor eyes you for a second, a little weary.

"won't bones be broken?" he asks and you shake your head, pointing at the large pool a few feet below. the height is enough to hurt but not to break any bones on impact.

"ah," viktor says, leaving you laugh as you pat his shoulder.

"my girl and your boy lose all semblance of intelligence when they're together." you tease and viktor laughs.

"well, they do share one braincell so of course it vanishes when they're together."

Could I request firefighter!Sevika HCs or a Drabble? She’d be so hot 🥵

sorry the reqs are taking so long! I’m in the middle of my finals rn, so bear with me for like another week or so ❤️‍🩹

I wholeheartedly agree anon and have been thinking about firefighter!sev since @kissingmilfs fic bc omggggg

-

❀ does daily pushups in your bedroom because she found you staring once and now wants to make sure you can see her workout as often as possible

❀ adding onto that, she will for sure tease you and flex her arms cockily

❀ will also be picking you up either bridal style or over her shoulder when she sees fit (which is a lot more than necessary - but you don’t complain)

❀ ADORES coming home to a hot meal. whether you stay at home or work full time, and whether you make dinner every night or once a month, she will NEVER take it for granted

❀ bonus points if you cook food from her culture - she’ll legit fall to her knees

❀ doesn’t take anything for granted actually. being a firefighter she sees a lot of loss, so she feels very privileged for everything she has

❀ makes sure to tell you this + how lucky she is to have found someone like you pretty much daily

❀ I feel like firefighter!sev is just the biggest softie

❀ like “Sevika ‘I Love My Wife’ Arcane” type shit

❀ is the type of romantic to kiss the back of your hand

NSFW

❀ uses her strength to her advantage in bed

❀ even though she’s usually gentle and sweet, she knows how to fuck

❀ like…FUCK

❀ like this woman will have you screaming, legs shaking, can’t walk the next day

❀ but she’s great with aftercare <3

❀ big fan of edging and overstim but cracks easily

❀ for sure has a praise kink and can get off just from pleasing you + encouragement

-

(also currently thinking of your kid running around giggling in sev’s helmet that’s far too big for their head)

lamb to the slaughter.

ghost. part ii ┃ sevika x reader WC: 4.4K

ⓘ: wrote n proofread while crossed. chop shit fr. will reread when sober n correct errors if needed. ⚠︎: kissing, alcohol consumption, mild misogyny, blood, psychological horror/thriller elements

As you enter the elevator, the world outside seems to blur; your polished fingernail quivers while pressing the button for floor thirteen. The brass numbers shine brightly beneath the harsh fluorescent lights, and in the mirrored doors, you glimpse your reflection—pale, weary, haunted.

Your mind is a mess, running a million miles a minute as it replays the previous night. The pounding in your skull is relentless, a hangover blooming behind your eyes. You rub your temple, trying to will away the ache, the scent of stale perfume and coffee clinging to your skin.

Just as the doors begin to close, an arm darts through the narrowing gap. You flinch, causing one of the coffees in your tray to slosh over, scalding your wrist. You wince, looking up—straight into Sevika’s steely gaze. Your breath catches, the air between you charged.

She doesn’t say a word, just steps in beside you. The elevator hums upward, the tinny jingle and mechanical whirring filling the silence. You risk a glance at her—she’s staring straight ahead, jaw set, eyes shadowed. You look away, heart hammering.

The elevator shudders to a stop. Sevika slips out, brushing past you and Matt. Her stride is purposeful, and her presence leaves a chill in her wake.

A cackle leaves his lips, snapping you back to the present moment. “Damn, Sevika, you ain’t got no sleep last night, eh?” His tone is crude, the words hanging in the air like smoke.

He turns his attention to you, lips curling in a smirk. “Jesus, little miss. You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“W-what…?” you stammer, eyes fixed on the door Sevika just disappeared through.

He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he snatches a cup from your tray.“Damn woman, can’t handle yer liquor.” He steps into the elevator, leaving you in the hallway, the scent of burnt coffee and cologne lingering.

You move on autopilot, feet carrying you to the office. The familiar clatter of typewriters and the low drone of voices fill your ears, the normalcy of it all jarring against the chaos inside your head.

Your gaze finds Sevika instantly. She looks… different. Her hair, usually pulled back with military precision, hangs loose around her face. Dark circles bruise the skin beneath her eyes, her posture tense, almost harrowing. She’s the picture of exhaustion, of something unraveling.

Though your head snaps in the opposite direction, the second her eyes meet yours, your heart rate increases. You can almost feel her gaze piercing through you like a blade.

‘Get Out’

Sevikas previous words linger in the air, sending a biting chill down your spine. 

She was usually so meticulously eloquent. Every word uttered seemed to be carefully thought out, practised, and planned. To see that crumbling down within the blink of an eye was beyond disconcerting. 

You force your mind to redirect, focusing on the mundane. Allowing the soft hiss from the coffee machine, measured typing of keys, and hum of fluorescent lights to steady your racing heart. Anything to drown out the memory gnawing at the edges of your mind. 

Last night had to have been a trick, too much alcohol, not enough sleep. People dont change…not like that. Not Sevika.

You catch yourself glancing at her once again, searching for any sign of the monster you thought you saw last night. But she just looks tired. Human. Vulnerable, even.

Maybe you imagined it, maybe you saw something that wasn't there. It had to be a hallucination, a nightmare. It had to be.

Then you remember the way her voice cut through the air, sharp and cutting. The glint in her eyes-wild, ravenous. No. That’s impossible. There’s no such thing as…

You shake your head, pressing a clammy palm to your forehead, trying to force the memory away. 

Get it together. You think as you throw yourself into work, determined to free your brain from the tormenting recollection of the night prior.

The flashing green numbers from the Quotron terminal begin to jumble on the screen, only worsening your headache. You decide to take a break, heading to the break room.

You almost stop in your tracks when you see Sevika’s figure looming over the counter, her head hung low. A soft gulp breaks the silence, her head snapping up to you, eyes softening ever so slightly.

"Sev..." you start, voice hesitant, unsure how to put your thoughts into words.

She sighs, turning to lean against the counter, crossing her arms. "Doll, I-"

Stomping footsteps echo from behind you. Sevika’s gaze diverts to Chris, who looks pale and frantic.

"Sevika—fuck—everyone’s selling..." His tone is panicked, voice cracking.

Sevika curses under her breath. "Fuckin’ market’s crashing," she mutters, her focus darting between you and Chris.

Your eyes widen, apprehension setting in. "..What do we do?" you ask, voice small.

Chris is already wringing his hands, glancing at the clock. "Clients are calling-some are demanding we sell everything; others are freaking out about margin calls-"

Sevika’s response is eerily calm, her tone shifting into something practiced and commanding, like she’s done this a hundred times. "Chris, you know the drill. No panic selling. Remind clients of their long-term plans. If they have cash, look for bargains—selectively. The worst thing we can do is dump everything at the bottom."

He nods, bolting back to his desk. The office buzz has shifted—phones ring off the hook, voices are raised, and the air is thick with anxiety. Coworkers cluster in tense knots, faces drawn, eyes glued to tumbling numbers on their screens.

Sevika’s eyes meet yours again, her composure returning even as exhaustion shadows her face. 

"Remember what we discussed about market crashes, doll. Stay calm, don’t let anyone deviate from their financial plan. The market always rebounds—maybe not tomorrow, but it will. Trust me."

You nod, letting her words anchor you as you settle in at your desk. The calls are relentless, clients desperate for reassurance, some on the verge of panic. You repeat Sevika’s advice: stay on course, don’t make decisions out of fear, focus on the long-term. The chaos inside your head mirrors the chaos outside, but you cling to the routine, to Sevika’s steadiness.

Even so, you notice Sevika snapping at a junior analyst, her hands moving so fast they blur, her nerves frayed beneath the surface calm.

The atmosphere grows increasingly distressing as the day wears on. Shouts fill the bustling office, and the clacking of keyboards becomes frenzied. The flashy green numbers change so quickly that you can barely read them.

You struggle to push away your own panic as percentage drops reach double digits, your hand moving on autopilot as it reaches to dial a client.

This call is like the others— the client stammers out various concerns about his portfolio, his voice rising in frustration as you exhaust his options.

The man seethes, hurling insults into the mouthpiece before a rough click echoes through the phone. You wince, the pain behind your eyes seeming to spread through every corner of your body. A deep sigh escapes your lips as you set your phone down and run a hand through your hair.

The chaos in the office is relentless. Phones ringing, numbers tumbling, voices raised in panic. You glance up, eyes searching for Sevika. She’s in the center of the storm, sleeves rolled up, barking orders with a clipped authority.

You approach her, hesitating at the edge of her desk, clutching a stack of client reports. “Sevika—”

She doesn’t spare you a glance. “Not now, doll. Handle your calls. We’ll talk later.” Her tone is brisk, almost cold.

Swallowing your disappointment, you retreat, dialing another anxious client. As usual, the man’s voice blares in your ear, frantic and accusatory., “You see what’s happening out there? I’m losing my shit! Why aren’t you selling?” You do your best to reassure him, parroting Sevika’s advice about riding out the storm, but your words feel thin, artificial. When he hangs up—hard—you realize your hands are shaking.

Sevika’s voice slices through the din, booming across the room. “Keep calm! Don’t let clients dump everything. Remind them of their long-term plans!” Her gaze sweeps the floor, sharp and commanding, but when it lands on you, it softens for a heartbeat, and she gives you a small, almost imperceptible nod of approval before her attention snaps to a junior analyst hovering at her side.

He stammers something about investment calls, clutching a fistful of slips, and Sevika’s patience cracks. “Figure it out and get the hell out of my face,” she snarls, voice like a whip. Almost instantly, she reaches up to brush sweat from her brow, her shoulders slumping, exhaustion plain in the way she leans against her desk. The analyst scurries away, eager to escape the heat of her glare.

Chris paces behind you, letting out a huff at the sight in front of him. “Never seen Sevika this rattled. She’s usually ice.”

You survey her expression, heartstrings clenching at the dreary look on her face. She’s visibly lost in thought, eyes distant as she stares at the wall.

Last night must have affected her, you think, lips down, turning into a small frown.

Her eyes meet yours, expression hardening immediately as she notices the stares from you and Chris. Causing you to avert your eyes down to your trembling hands.

Waiting for your nerves to steady, the next caller lights up your phone. You’re about to answer when you feel a cool hand brush against your blouse.

Sevika’s voice, lower now, cuts through the chaos. “Doll, take a breath. You’re no good to anyone if you crack up.” It’s barely more than a murmur, meant for you alone, and for a moment, the noise fades.

You nod, swallowing hard as you force yourself to focus. Another client, another round of panic. She gives your waist a comforting squeeze before pulling away, her touch lingering longer than necessary.

Hours pass and the final bell rings through the cavernous trading floor, cutting sharply through the lingering noise. Phones went silent and the frantic buzz of voices faded into a low murmur. The glowing green on the Quotron terminals slowed their frantic dance, setting into a steady, muted glow.

You let out a long breath, feeling the tight knot in your shoulders loosen just a bit. Around you, traders rubbed their tired eyes and stretched still limbs, exchanging exhausted glances. The air, heavy with the scent of stale coffee and sweat, felt less oppressive, more resigned.

Sevika stood near the window, her silhouette framed by the fading dusk. Her tie was loosened, sleeves rolled up, but her posture remained rigid, her gaze sharp as she surveyed the city below.

You approached cautiously, unsure if she wanted company. “We made it through,” you said quietly.

She didn’t turn immediately, then finally glanced your way with a brief, almost dismissive nod. “Barely,” she replied, voice clipped. Then, softer, almost reluctant: “Not pretty, but it’s over.”

You swallowed, sensing the wall she’d put up. “It felt endless today.”

She shrugged, eyes flickering away. “Markets don’t care about how we feel. They just keep moving.” Then, catching your gaze, she added, “You held up better than I expected.”

A flicker of warmth, quickly masked by her usual guarded expression.

“I tried…” You reply, trying to gauge her expression.

Sevika exhales, the tension in the air almost palpable.

“You did good today, doll. I’m… sorry I was so short with you,” she says quietly, her gaze dropping to the floor.

You nod, voice hesitant. “It’s alright, Sev… I just…” Your words falter as you glance around at the other traders gathering their things, the day winding down. “…Can we talk about last night?” The question barely escapes your lips, little more than a whisper.

Her jaw tightens, shoulders stiffening. “Doll-” Her tone is sharper than you expect, as if she’s chastising you for even mentioning it.

You cut in, desperate. “Please…”

She sighs again, resignation flickering in her eyes. “Go grab your stuff. I’ll drive you home.”

Relief and apprehension twist together in your chest as you pack up, hands trembling. She’s willing to talk, but the uncertainty gnaws at you.

The walk to her car is thick with silence, awkward and strained-so unlike the easy camaraderie you’re used to. The drive is worse; Sevika keeps her eyes on the road, her posture rigid, tension radiating off her in waves. You stare out the window, heart pounding, wishing you could read her mind.

When she finally parks, you both head upstairs in silence. She trails behind you, hands shoved deep in her pockets, every step heavy with unspoken words.

You unlock your apartment, flicking on the lights. It’s fine. Everything’s fine. She’s just here to talk, you tell yourself, but the attempted mantra does little to slow your racing pulse.

Sevika steps inside, glancing around as if she’s never been here before. Her presence feels strange, unfamiliar. You hate it.

“Want a drink…?” you offer, fidgeting with your hands.

She looks at you, unreadable, eyes searching your face for something you can’t name.

“Sure.”

“Please, sit down.” You gesture stiffly toward the couch, wincing at how formal the words sound as they fall from your lips.

She sits, sinking into the cushions, her posture guarded.

You turn toward the kitchen, but freeze. Down the hall, your reflection stares back at you from the mirror–alone. Sevika should be visible in the glass, shouldn’t she? You glance back at her, still seated, close enough to be seen. Your stomach knots.

No, you’re imagining things. That’s impossible. Sevika isn’t a… No. You won’t let your mind go there.

You move to the kitchen, feeling detached, as if you’re watching yourself from a distance. Your eyes flick to Sevika, half-expecting her to vanish, half-afraid she’ll move.

Your hand shakes as you pour her a glass of scotch–her favorite. Nearly spilling the malt liquid as you cross the room; nerves fraying.

You sit beside her, careful to leave a considerable amount of space. Her gaze lingers, intense, as if she can sense every tremor of your anxiety.

“Relax, doll.” Her voice is gentler now, a command softened by concern. She takes a sip, sets the glass down. You mimic her, letting the whiskey burn some of the fear away.

She leans back, eyelid’s hooded, the air between you thick with anticipation. She’s waiting–for you to bring it up, to ask.

You fold your hands in your lap, voice barely steady. “What happened last night, Sev?”

Sevika’s eyes flicker away, her jaw working as she searches for words. For a moment, you think she might shut down again, but then she sighs, running a hand through her hair.

“It’s… complicated,” she says, voice low, almost gravelly. “What you saw-” She stops, glancing at you, as if gauging how much you already know, or how much you can handle.

You grip your glass tighter, knuckles whitening. “I need to know, Sev. I need to hear it from you. I can’t keep pretending nothing happened.”

She leans forward, elbows on her knees, head bowed. The Sevika you know–the unshakable, commanding presence seems smaller now, weighed down by something you can’t name.

“I never wanted you to get dragged into this,” she murmurs, barely audible. “You weren’t supposed to see. Any of it.”

You swallow, heart thudding in your chest. “But I did. And I can’t unsee it.”

Her gaze snaps to yours, sharp and searching, as if she’s looking for any sign of fear or revulsion. “You’re scared of me.” It’s not a question.

You hesitate, then nod, honesty trembling in your voice. “A little. But I’m more scared of not knowing the truth.”

She lets out a shaky breath, her posture softening. “You always were stubborn,” she says, a ghost of a smile flickering across her lips before fading.

You manage a weak laugh, the tension in the room thick as fog.

Sevika’s eyes darken, her voice dropping to a whisper. “What I am… it’s not something I chose. It’s not something I’m proud of. But I’ve kept it hidden for a reason. For your safety. For mine.”

You lean in, searching her face for any trace of the monster you glimpsed–or thought you glimpsed-the night before. All you see is exhaustion, regret, and something achingly human.

“Are you going to hurt me?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

She shakes her head, fierce and immediate. “Never. I’d sooner hurt myself.”

A heavy silence settles between you, broken only by the distant city sounds filtering through the window.

You look down at your hands, then back at her. “So… what now?”

Sevika leans back, her expression unreadable. “That’s up to you, doll. You want answers, I’ll give them. But once you know, there’s no going back.”

You nod, resolve settling in your chest. “Tell me. I want to understand.”

For the first time all night, Sevika looks almost relieved. She picks up her glass, takes a long sip.

The silence between you stretches, taut and uneasy. Sevika’s gaze drifts to the window, the city lights glinting in her eyes. She doesn’t speak right away; when she does, her voice is barely above a whisper.

“There are things about me I can’t explain–not really,” she begins, words measured, careful. “Things I’ve carried for a long time. It’s not something you’d read about in a paper, or see in a movie. It’s… older than that. Heavier.”

You wait, pulse thrumming in your ears. “Sevika, I saw–” She cuts you off, a flash of something like fear in her eyes. “You saw more than you were meant to. I’m sorry for that.” She rubs her hands together, restless. “I try to keep it contained. Most days, I manage.”

You swallow, the air thick with questions. “Contained? What do you mean?”

She smiles, but it's a brittle mask that doesn’t quite fit. “Let’s just say I have… needs. Hungers. Not the kind you can fix with ordinary food or drink.” Her gaze flicks to you, searching, almost pleading for you to understand without asking more.

Your mind races, piecing together memories—the missing reflection, the way she moved in the dark, the chill in the air. “You’re a-” She shakes her head, almost violently. “Don’t say it. Names have weight. I’m still me, doll. I’m still the person you know. Just… with shadows you haven’t seen before.”

You notice her hands clenching, the tension in her jaw. She’s holding something back, something sharp and dangerous.

“Are you safe?” you ask, voice trembling.

Her answer is slow, deliberate. “I’m careful. I have to be. I don’t want to hurt anyone—not you, especially.” She looks away, voice thinning. “That’s why I keep my distance. Why I don’t let people get close.”

A silence settles, heavy with all the things she isn’t saying. You realize she’s given you just enough to keep you close, but not enough to set you free from wondering.

She finally meets your eyes, haunted and resolute. “I can’t give you more than that. Not tonight.”

You frown, desperate for answers, but before you can form another question, she cuts you off.

“That’s enough, doll.” Her voice is gentle, but there’s a finality to it that makes your chest tighten.

“Sev, please…” You reach for her hand, fingers curling around hers, clinging to the connection. “Don’t shut me out. I know what I saw-”

“I know you know,” she murmurs, her tone softening for a heartbeat. She slips her hand from yours and stands up, the distance between you suddenly vast.

Panic claws at your insides. She’s going to leave. You can feel it–a cold certainty. Something inside you begs you not to let her go.

“How do you feed?” The words tumble out, raw and intrusive, slicing through the heavy air. Sevika freezes, already halfway to the door. She turns, her expression unreadable, eyes shadowed.

She doesn’t speak at first, doesn’t move. The silence throbs.

“…How–?”

“Sheep’s blood,” she says at last, voice strained. “I… I use ferrous sulfate to mimic the taste of…” She trails off, but you know what she means. The truth hangs between you, sharp and metallic.

You nod, heart pounding. “Is it… hard to get?”

A bitter glint flickers across her lips. “Yeah. It is. But I can go months without it if I have to. Last night, I just… I hadn’t fed in a while.” Her words are brittle, shame threaded through every syllable.

You sit with this, the silence prickling your skin. Then, before you can stop yourself, you blurt out the thought that’s been lurking in the back of your mind.

“Why don’t you just… feed on me? If it’s easier.”

The room seems to contract, the air thickening until it’s hard to breathe. Sevika stands utterly still, her eyes darkening, something dangerous flickering in their depths.

“No.” Her voice is low, almost a growl.

“But–”

“No.” She takes a step closer, her presence suddenly overwhelming. “You have no idea what you’re offering. You can’t possibly understand what that would mean.” Her words vibrate with something wild, barely leashed.

You swallow, pulse racing, the reality of what you’ve suggested settling over you like a cloak. Sevika’s gaze is fierce, protective, and for the first time, you glimpse the full weight of what she’s been holding back—not just hunger, but fear. Fear for you.

You barely have time to draw a breath before Sevika is on you, her strength startling, pinning you against the arm of the couch. The world narrows to the press of her body and the wild, ravenous look in her eyes–a hunger that both terrifies and mesmerizes you.

Instinct screams at you to shrink away, but instead, you tilt your head, fingers trembling as you sweep your hair aside, baring your throat. You squeeze your eyes shut, heart pounding so hard you think it might burst.

You feel her breath hitch, a low, guttural sound escaping her. She leans in, her lips ghosting over your skin, and you shudder as her tongue flicks out, tracing a slow, deliberate line from your collarbone up the column of your neck. The contact is electric, sending a jolt through your nerves.

She sighs–a sound that’s almost a growl, inhuman, primal. Her mouth finds your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your pulse, her grip tightening at your waist. Her other hand is gentle, brushing your hair further aside, her touch almost reverent.

“I apologize for any… discomfort,” she murmurs, voice rough, vibrating against your skin. She presses one last kiss to your throat, and then you feel the sharp, decisive puncture as her fangs sink in.

A strangled gasp tears from your lips. Pain–sharp and blinding–blooms through you. But then the sensation shifts, ache melting into something strange and exquisite; a rush of euphoria that leaves you dizzy, weightless. Every nerve alight, every sense sharpened, the world dissolving into the heat of her mouth and the pounding of your heart.

You clutch at her shoulders, breath coming out in short, desperate bursts as she feeds. The room spins, your awareness narrowing to the rhythm of her drinking and the press of her body. The impossible intimacy of the moment terrifying, exhilarating, and utterly consuming.

When Sevika finally pulls away, you’re left gasping, your head spinning with a dizzying cocktail of exhaustion and something dangerously close to bliss. The world feels muffled, as if you’re underwater. Sevika’s face hovers above yours. Her lips stained, eyes wild and haunted.

Her chest rising and falling in ragged waves. For a moment, neither of you moves. Her hand lingers at your waist, steadying you, but her gaze is distant, as if she’s already retreating somewhere unreachable.

You reach up, fingertips brushing her cheek, searching for reassurance, for some sign that you haven’t just crossed an invisible, irreversible line. But Sevika flinches away, guilt and shame flickering across her features. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, eyes squeezed shut.

“I shouldn’t have…” she whispers, voice raw. “I lost control. I’m sorry, doll. I’m so damn sorry.”

You try to speak, but your tongue feels thick, your body heavy and boneless. There’s a strange warmth blooming in your chest, a sense of connection that’s both comforting and terrifying. You can still feel the echo of her hunger inside you, the memory of her mouth at your throat.

“It’s okay,” you manage, though you’re not sure if you believe it. “I offered. I wanted to help.”

She shakes her head, jaw clenched. “You don’t understand. It’s not supposed to be like this. I’m not supposed to want–” She cuts herself off, standing abruptly. The loss of her touch is jarring, cold.

You watch her pace the room, running a trembling hand through her hair. The apartment feels cavernous, the silence between you thick and suffocating.

“Are you… are you alright?” you ask, voice small.

She stops, back to you. “I’ll be fine. You need to rest. Drink some water. If you feel dizzy, lie down.” Her tone is clipped, reverting to the Sevika you know from the office. Distant, controlled, untouchable.

You nod, but a lump forms in your throat. You want to reach for her, to bridge the gulf that’s opened between you, but your limbs are leaden, your mind foggy. You wonder if you’ll ever be able to look at her the same way again–if she’ll let you.

Sevika lingers in the doorway, silhouetted by the hall light. For a moment, you think she might say something more, offer comfort or explanation. But she just stands there, shadowed and uncertain.

“I’ll check on you tomorrow,” she says at last, voice barely audible. Then she slips out, the door clicking shut behind her.

You’re left alone in the quiet, the taste of copper still lingering on your tongue, your pulse fluttering like a trapped bird. The night presses in, thick with questions and fear and something you dare not name.

You close your eyes, replaying every moment, every touch, every word. The world feels irrevocably changed, the boundaries between fear and desire, trust and danger, blurred beyond recognition.

You wonder if you’ve saved Sevika from her hunger, or if you’ve only fed something far more complicated and dangerous.

taglist: @half-of-a-gay @sapphiccup @iamaboringrattat @spinback-kiva @theoreticalfreak @moodient @diouna @helaenabugmom @womenlover360 @sumisamente @thatsmadiculous @madzorwhatever @vkumi @boom58 @h2pinky @glittzygorilla @koralinebox @kay-khronicals @belldonic @rosebg @thehoneybeestings @sunflowerwinds @dyketoast @dvrkhcld @blasphemous-riot comment to be added to taglist for the final part :)

sub!vi getting her shit disrespectfully rocked <3

✄ sub!vi who's sprawled out across the couch when you come home from work, spending her day off taking some well needed rest

✄ sub!vi who immediately notices your pissed off look, knowing it was gonna be a long night

✄ sub!vi who doesn't resist your harsh hand when pulling her in - kisses all teeth and tongue, free hand grasping at every inch of flesh while her other held onto the collar of her cotton tee

✄ sub!vi who lets you drag her to the bedroom, following after your every step like a shadow

✄ sub!vi who waits patiently on the bed as you rush out of your work clothes, baby blue's staring right at your strap as you shuffle the harness on and lube it up

✄ sub!vi who welcomes your body clambering onto hers, calloused hands gentle and soothing on your waist as she spreads her legs for you

✄ sub!vi who's gentle presence contrasts with your strung out and exasperated one, letting you pour your frustrations past her lips and down her throat as forcefully as you need to

✄ sub!vi who sighs quietly at you grinding your strap against her, mouths moving in sync while the silicone rubs against her clit

✄ sub!vi who can't take it after a while, pulling away from the kiss to beg you to just put it in her

✄ sub!vi who agrees with your degrading teasing, giving you puppy eyes in hopes you'll let up

"yes, yes, i'm a desperate slut. just c'mon, please? i need you in me."

✄ sub!vi who moans when she feels you fill her up. not high pitched, not pornographic - it's raw, nearly broken from the teasing alone

✄ sub!vi who hardly gives herself time to adjust to the stretch, already grinding into you before you have the chance to move

✄ sub!vi who reels at the sudden emptiness as you pull out, only to immediately get stuffed again with a swift slam of your hips

✄ sub!vi who gets very little warm up before you start to pound into her, skin slapping against skin full pelt as you grab her ankles to push above her shoulders

✄ sub!vi whose breathing picks up at the pace, coming out as choppy gasps melded with small mewls

✄ sub!vi who rocks into you desperately despite her position, struggling to lift her hips up off the mattress, causing you to snicker

"gettin' greedy now, violet?"

✄ sub!vi who feels the sharp sting on her scalp before her eyes snap open - your hand grasping her hair near the roots, forcing her to look down

"look at yourself. sluttiest fuckin' pussy. aren't you ashamed?"

✄ sub!vi who can hardly form a response, a high pitched mewl tearing from her throat as she tries to close her eyes, only for her hair to get yanked farther

"did i tell you to close your eyes? huh? open that shit right now."

✄ sub!vi who cums not too long after, vision spotting as white hot pleasure floods her veins and arteries

✄ sub!vi whose thighs shake as you abate your movements, rubbing her clit to see her squirm and kick out before smoothing your hands down her thighs

✄ sub!vi who feels your hands grab at her not too long after, shifting her to lay on her back, head hanging off the edge of the bed

✄ sub!vi who feels the head of your strap prod at her lips, her eyes still closed as your voice floods her ears

"clean your mess up."

✄ sub!vi who barely opens her mouth before it's forced open, silicone bottoming out in her throat

✄ sub!vi who gags and chokes, shaky hands on your hips as you fuck her face

✄ sub!vi who swallows around the girth of the dildo, trying to relax as her eyes flutter close again

✄ sub!vi who gasps for air when you finally pull away, arms falling limp when you step out of her reach

✄ sub!vi who doesn't talk much as you clean her up, only answering the more important questions of "are you okay?" or "i didn't push it, did i?"

✄ sub!vi who lets you carry her to the bathroom, setting her in a warm bath while you change the sheets

✄ sub!vi who comes out of the bathroom a few minutes later, looking slightly more alive as she dries off and gets dressed

✄ sub!vi who lays down in bed with you, clinging to your form with her face buried in your neck

✄ sub!vi who gets to pick the movie for doing such a good job for you, falling asleep to heavy praise and kisses

alr everyone thank saturn for helping me w this one or go sit in the corner

taglist : @hihihhihahahha @lolitalovess @peskylez @saturnhas82moons @kylorey25 @lipglosskxsses @mars4hellokitty @hwasddeongbyeoli @foralltheprettygirls @meow4510 @therealhexstrap  @sunflowerwinds

hey, sorry if you're tired of seeing me, but what do you think about reader rejecting Vi multiple times cause Vi is like a fuckgirl and reader doesn't know if Vi is only playing or mocking her, and don't wanna get hurt, but Vi it's totally serious and wants to get reader so bad?

btw, hope you're okay, have a great day, love ya! 🫶🏼

all of the girls you loved before

♡ vi x f!reader

wc: 4k

notes: i love seeing your asks 😭😭 don’t worry !! (sorry for taking so long to make this lol i haven’t been writing this much lately) i love this idea and i LOVED how this turned out, i want a girlfriend so bad now 😔

If you asked any gay girl (or bi, or questioning—basically anyone even remotely attracted to women) about Vi Vanderson, you’d get one of three very specific responses:

1. “She’s the love of my life, but I can’t get her to look my way.”

2. “I hate her and I hope she dies a slow, dramatic, painful death.”

3. “She said she’d call me back and I’ve been waiting for a week. Can you tell her to text me?”

Which, honestly, tells you everything you need to know about her.

Violet Vanderson had that reputation—the kind where she’d either broken your heart, your roommate’s heart, or was currently in the process of doing both. She had an effortless charm, a smirk that could melt steel, and a walk that made heads turn in slow motion. Basically, she was a walking red flag... and yet, somehow, irresistible.

So when she’d throw a wink my way, flash that annoyingly perfect grin, and drop the cheesiest pick-up lines known to mankind—“Your eyes are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, princess”—I didn’t exactly swoon. I simply rolled my eyes.

Because we were friends. And if Vi flirted with strangers for fun, she flirted with me for sport.

“You know, princess,” she said on a typical morning, stealing one of my fries with no shame, “you’re the most gorgeous girl in here. When are you finally going to let me take you on a date?”

I didn’t even look up. “Piss off, Violet. Go flirt with Sarah or something—she’s been staring since you walked in.”

Vi glanced over her shoulder, spotted Sarah practically drooling, then turned back to me with a smug little smirk. “She doesn’t have your charm.”

I snorted. “I’m not on the menu.”

“Maybe,” she said, plucking another fry. “But I’m patient.”

And that was the problem with Vi—she knew exactly how to walk the razor-thin line between teasing and tempting, and she was dangerously good at pretending it didn’t mean anything.

The real question was: when did I start wishing she meant it?

I mean, I wasn’t that stupid... right?

No. There was absolutely no way I was falling for my walking-red-flag-of-a-friend. The same friend who flirted with any girl who so much as breathed in her direction. The one who collected hearts like seashells on a beach and didn’t even pretend to keep track of whose they were.

Of course I wouldn’t be that girl.

I wouldn’t be stupid enough to feel a little flutter in my chest every time she called me princess. Or get all flustered when she teased me just to see me blush. Or mad—irrationally mad—when she smirked like she knew exactly what she was doing.

And she did know.

“You’re gonna wait forever, then,” I said flatly, standing up and grabbing my tray, done with being caught in Sarah’s piercing glare. “I’m not interested. At all.”

I didn’t wait for her response, didn’t risk looking back at her face, because if I did, I knew I’d see that stupid half-smile of hers—the one that said, I know you’re lying.

But as I walked away, I heard her voice ring out across the cafeteria, louder than necessary and way too dramatic.

“Don’t do this to my heart! You know you love me!”──────────────────────

The next time Vi tried to convince me we should go out, I was sitting under my favorite tree on campus during lunch, headphones in, enjoying the rare peace, when her shadow suddenly blocked out the sun like a bad omen.

I didn’t even have to look up. “If you’re here to confess your undying love again, I’m gonna need it in writing. Preferably notarized.”

Vi laughed and dropped down beside me like she belonged there. “Can I at least offer a bribe before the proposal?”

I sighed and took one earbud out. “Depends. Is it food?”

She grinned like she’d just scored a goal. “Better. It’s me. I come with jokes, tattoos and limited emotional availability. Total package.”

I blinked at her. “Wow. I can’t imagine why you’re still single.”

“Me neither,” she said, leaning back on her hands, stretching like she was trying to give the sun a show. “Maybe it’s because the girl I actually like keeps rejecting me in increasingly creative ways.”

I scoffed at that, like she actually liked me. I ignored the way my heart did an actual somersault in my chest.

“Maybe,” I muttered, biting into my sandwich like it could distract me from her eyes on me.

She leaned in just a bit, lowering her voice like we were sharing secrets. “Come on. Just one date. If you don’t have the best time of your life, I swear I’ll never flirt with you again.”

I turned to her slowly, looking her dead in the eyes. “You say that like it’s supposed to scare me.”

Her smirk only deepened. “Because you’d miss me.”

“Oh, yes, I’d really miss being aggressively hit on while I try to eat a sandwich with too much mustard. Huge loss.”

“You pretend to hate it,” she said, nudging her knee against mine. “But you haven’t told me to stop.”

I narrowed my eyes, cheeks warming despite my best efforts. “Maybe I like watching you embarrass yourself.”

Vi raised a brow, eyes glinting with something that made my stomach twist. “Then you must love me by now.”

I scoffed. “Love you? Please. I tolerate you the same way I tolerate cramps and coffee withdrawals.”

She clutched her chest like I’d stabbed her. “Brutal.”

“Good,” I said, wrapping my sandwich back up. “Maybe then you’ll finally take the hint and let me rot in peace.”

“Not a chance, princess,” she said, all confidence and charm, her infuriatingly pretty eyes locked on mine. “I’m in this for the long game.”

And to be honest? I was almost—almost—ready to give in. To say yes, just to see what she thought she’d get out of this.

Maybe she liked the challenge. Maybe it thrilled her to know I was the only girl who hadn’t fallen headfirst into her lap. Maybe the chase was more exciting than the prize.

And that’s what scared me the most.

Because if I said yes—if I let her take me out, let her treat me like I was the only girl in the world for a night—what then?

What if she kissed me, touched me like I was something soft and fragile instead of her sarcastic best friend, and took me back to her room? The same room where she’s taken all the others before me. The same room I’ve heard stories about, or walked past, knowing some random girl was probably still tangled in her sheets.

Would I just be another name on that list?

Would she lose interest the second I stopped being a challenge?

Because once I crossed that line, there was no going back. Our friendship wouldn’t survive it—not intact. And neither would I.

Somewhere along the line, Vi stopped being just my flirty, reckless friend with too many one-night stands and a wink that could burn straight through steel. She became someone I couldn’t afford to lose.

And that made everything so much more complicated.

──────────────────────

After that day by the tree, it felt like something shifted. Like Vi sensed that I was slipping. That maybe—just maybe—I was close to giving in. And if she did notice? Oh, she absolutely took it as a challenge.

Maybe she was doing the same thing she always had, or maybe this time it was different. Maybe I was just different—too tired to keep pretending her attention didn’t affect me.

“Good morning, princess. Looking beautiful as always,” she said with that casual confidence, her grin tugging slightly at the little scar on her upper lip.

And of course, my traitor eyes immediately darted to her mouth. Like clockwork.

It was too early for this. Too early to fight the urge to smile back or roll my eyes or reach out and touch her—God, why did she always look so good first thing in the morning?

I tried to muster a response, something snarky, something that would remind her (and myself) that I wasn’t buying it.

“Do you ever wake up and decide not to flirt with someone?” I muttered, brushing past her with my coffee in hand. “Or is this just a full-time job for you?”

“Only when you’re around,” she shot back, grinning like she’d already won something.

I didn’t respond. Couldn’t, really. Because if I did, my voice might crack under the weight of how badly I wanted to believe she meant it this time.

And she didn’t stop. Not that day, not the next, and definitely not the one after that. If anything, she doubled down.

Every morning came with a new compliment, a pet name, a reason for her to stand too close or brush her hand against mine like it was an accident.

“Nice shirt,” she said one afternoon, leaning over the back of the couch where I was writing one of my essays. “Brings out your eyes. Not that I need a shirt to notice those.”

I didn’t even look up. “You say that like you haven’t recycled that line a hundred times.”

“Maybe I have,” she murmured, her breath warm against the shell of my ear. “But it still makes you blush.”

Damn her.

I slammed my laptop shut and stood, brushing past her. “You are unbelievable, you know that?”

She followed, undeterred. “What can I say? I have a soft spot for beautiful girls who act like they hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” I snapped, stopping short. “I just don’t believe you.”

That made her pause. For the first time in a while, Vi didn’t have a quip ready. She just stood there, lips slightly parted, like she hadn’t expected honesty to sting so much.

“I’m not trying to mess with you, Y/N,” she said after a beat, softer this time. “I know I’ve been… stupid with other people. But you’re not them.”

And that was the most dangerous thing she could’ve said.

Because some part of me wanted to believe her. So badly. But that little voice in the back of my head—the one that remembered every time I saw her kiss someone else at a party, every wink she threw at another girl—it wouldn’t let me forget.

So I laughed. Cold. Dismissive. Defensive.

“Try that line on someone who hasn’t heard your greatest hits, Violet.”

──────────────────────

I tried avoiding Vi for a while. Maybe if I didn’t see her, I’d build up some kind of immunity to her constant flirting. Maybe the distance would help me put my walls back up, stronger than before. Maybe I’d stop slipping.

Desperate times, right? I even went to a party. But of course, the moment I stepped into the frat house, there she was, like fate had planned it just to mess with me.

Drink in hand, hair styled exactly the way I liked it—messy but deliberate—and that stupid black jacket hanging off her shoulders like she owned the night. She was leaning in close to some girl I didn’t recognize, and it took everything in me not to turn around and leave.

She had that look again. The “I’m going to ruin your life, and you’re going to thank me for it” look. Eyes half-lidded, head tilted just enough to seem effortless. I watched as she tucked a strand of hair behind that girl’s ear, smiled like she meant it, and brushed her fingers along her shoulder. Textbook Violet.

And it made my blood boil.

I tried to play it cool. Pretend it didn’t bother me. Pretend I wasn’t two seconds away from marching over there and dragging her out by her smug smirk.

But then she looked at me.

Just one glance—one second—and suddenly it was like her flirty dial cranked up to a thousand. She leaned in even closer to the girl, whispered something, and then—of course—she made her way over to me.

Drink still in hand. Grin still plastered across her face.

I didn’t even wait for her to speak.

“Oh, don’t stop now,” I snapped, arms crossed tight. “She looked like she was really enjoying herself.”

Vi blinked, taken aback. “What?”

I laughed, bitter and sharp. “Don’t play dumb, Vi. She was practically on top of you.”

The smirk twitched back onto her lips, but this time it looked more like a shield than confidence. “Is someone jealous?”

And that did it.

“See?” I snapped, louder than I meant to. “That’s exactly what I mean. You say you want me, that I’m the only girl you’re actually serious about—but the second I’m not around, you’re back to being the stupid version of you. Flirting with anything that breathes. How am I supposed to take you seriously when you act like that?”

Her smile dropped. Just like that. Her jaw clenched, and she stepped closer, something softer flickering behind those impossible blue eyes. “You really think I don’t mean it?”

“I think you don’t know what you mean,” I said, my voice trembling now, though I tried to hold it steady. “And I’m not going to be just another girl you use to pass the time.”

Silence settled between us. The music around us kept playing, but it sounded so far away. For the first time, she didn’t throw back a comeback. She just stood there, those goddamn puppy-dog eyes searching mine, her throat working like she was trying to find the right words.

“I’m not trying to pass the time,” she said quietly, voice low and rough. “I’m trying to get you to believe that I’m in this for you. And yeah, I flirt. That’s how I cope. That’s how I hide. But nothing I’ve ever said to them meant even half as much as what I say to you.”

I wanted to believe her. I really wanted to.

“I want to believe you,” I whispered, looking away. “But your words don’t match your actions, Vi. And I… I don’t want to be just another girl on your bed.”

She took a breath, and for a second, I thought she might say something reckless and heartbreaking. But instead, she just said, “Then tell me what to do to prove it.”

──────────────────────

Then tell me what to do to prove it.

Her voice echoed in my head long after the conversation ended.

And true to her word, Vi didn’t just let it go.

The next day, there was coffee waiting for me at my desk. We had the same 8 a.m. lecture, and as I stepped into the room and made my way to my usual table, I saw it—my exact order, the one I never told anyone because it was way too specific, was waiting for me, my name written in her messy scrawl on the side.

“I’m not flirting,” she said as I eyed the cup suspiciously. “I’m just… paying attention.”

Day two: A sticky note on my computer that said “You looked beautiful yesterday. Just thought someone should tell you”

Day three: the Jane Austen book I’d been dying to read—the one I kept complaining was always checked out from the library—sitting on my living room table. Another sticky note on the cover: “Someone finally returned it! :)”

Every day after that, there was something new. Something soft. Something small. A gesture that felt intentional. Deliberate. Real.

And she wasn’t flirting the way she used to. No more over-the-top pickup lines. No more exaggerated winks. No more “princess” with a grin that dared me to fight her off. Now, when she looked at me, it felt… different. Like she wasn’t trying to seduce me—just see me.

And it was terrifying.

Because on one hand she was being true to her word, she was showing me that she actually—actually!!—wanted me, not just because I was a challenge, but because it was me.

But on the other hand, I couldn’t shake the fear. What if she slipped? What if the next party rolled around and I turned to see her back to whispering in someone else’s ear, smirk in full force, drink in hand?

What if this version of her—soft, steady, real—was only temporary?

Still, with every action, every quiet gesture, it was like she was telling me, “Yes, I’m serious about you.” And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t ignore the growing feeling that giving her a chance was the right thing to do.

Maybe I was going to be the stupid girl who fell for her walking-red-flag-of-a-friend.

──────────────────────

I don’t know what finally broke through my defenses.

Maybe it was the book.

Maybe it was the way she stopped trying to win me over with smirks and pickup lines and started showing up with nothing but sincerity.

Or maybe it was how quiet she’d gone about it all—how she never pointed out the things she did, never asked for credit, never even looked to see if I noticed.

But I did.

God, I noticed.

Every sticky note. Every small gesture. Every look that lingered longer than it should have.

So the next time she handed me a coffee, I didn’t roll my eyes. I didn’t raise a brow or accuse her of flirting.

I just took it.

“Thanks,” I said, soft and a little unsure, brushing my fingers against hers for maybe a second too long. “You remembered the oat milk this time.”

“You’re welcome,” she said slowly, carefully, like she didn’t want to scare me off by saying too much.

I held her gaze a moment longer than I usually would. Then I glanced down at the cup, smiling faintly when I saw our names written side by side in her handwriting, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I swallowed, heart in my throat. “I was thinking…” I said, trying to keep my tone light even though my palms were sweating, “if you’re not busy Friday night, maybe we could… grab dinner or something?”

Vi blinked. Once. Twice.

Then her whole face lit up like I’d just handed her the moon.

“You’re asking me out?” she said, grinning so wide it was nearly blinding. “Is this a trap? Are cameras gonna pop out?”

I laughed, embarrassed, but I didn’t take it back. I couldn’t. “Don’t push it, Violet.”

She leaned in, her voice softer than I’d ever heard it. “I won’t. I swear. Just tell me where to be… and I’ll be there.”

──────────────────────

Friday night came faster than I expected, and the moment I saw her standing outside the restaurant, every ounce of my carefully built composure cracked.

She wasn’t in her usual leather jacket and cocky smile. Instead, she wore a crisp white shirt, tucked into her loose black jeans. Her hair was still slightly messy, and she kept spinning the rings on her fingers like she was nervous. Vi. Nervous. That alone nearly made me trip over my own feet.

“You showed,” she said, looking me up and down slowly.

I walked up to her, trying not to look like I’d been holding my breath the entire ride there.

A soft smile tugged at her lips. “You look… incredible.”

“And you’re still a flirt,” I replied, brushing past her with a smirk, my cheeks flushing. “But thanks.”

She chuckled and held the door open for me, just a little shy this time—like she was still half-expecting me to change my mind.

Dinner started awkwardly. We both fumbled over the menu, over small talk, over who was going to order the wine. It felt like trying on new clothes—familiar pieces in an unfamiliar context.

But somewhere between the second glass of wine and a story she told about her and Jinx sneaking onto a rooftop to watch fireworks, things started to ease. I was laughing—really laughing. And Vi… she just looked at me like I’d hung the stars.

“You know,” I said, taking another sip of wine, “I thought I had you all figured out.”

“Yeah?” She raised an eyebrow. “What did you think?”

“That you were just in it for the challenge. Trying to get into my pants because I didn’t immediately fall at your feet. And that once you got what you wanted, you wouldn’t even look my way again.”

She huffed a short laugh. “And now?”

“Now… I feel like you’re being genuine. I don’t know. You keep surprising me.” I paused. “And I like it.”

She reached across the table, slow and careful, her fingers brushing mine.

“And I hope I keep surprising you,” she whispered. “As long as you let me.”

I let my hand turn, let our fingers tangle—just a little.

Maybe I was still scared. Maybe I still didn’t have all the answers.

But in that moment—with her looking at me like I was something rare—I wasn’t turning away.

We ended up walking after dinner, neither of us ready to call it a night. The city buzzed softly around us—the way it always did after 10 p.m.—still alive, but quieter. Calmer. Like it was winding down, holding its breath along with us. We wandered toward the park, the air cool and just a little crisp, carrying that quiet kind of magic only late nights could.

“Okay,” Vi said, nudging me gently with her elbow. “Be honest. Dinner wasn’t a complete disaster, right?”

I smirked. “I mean, you didn’t make me mad, and you didn’t flirt with the waitress—huge progress.”

She laughed, the sound echoing lightly in the open air. “So I get points for not being a menace?”

“You get points for trying,” I replied, casting a glance at her from the corner of my eye. “And maybe for making me laugh.”

Her smile softened at that. We walked in silence for a bit, but it wasn’t awkward—just… easy. Comfortable. Somewhere along the path, we passed a little ice cream stand still open, and Vi tugged me gently to a stop.

“Ice cream?” she asked, her eyes practically sparkling. “My treat.”

I raised an eyebrow. “If this is your secret strategy to win me over, it’s dangerously effective.”

“Not a strategy,” she said with a grin, already pulling out her wallet. “Just craving something sweet.”

The old woman behind the counter gave Vi a knowing smile after handing us our cones. As Vi turned back toward me, I caught the faint pink on her cheeks.

We found a bench near the edge of the lake and sat, ice cream in hand—mine was mint chocolate chip, hers something absurdly fruity. The streetlights cast everything in a soft golden glow, and a breeze rustled the trees overhead. In the distance, someone strummed a guitar lazily. It felt like a scene from a movie I hadn’t realized I was starring in.

“You’ve got a little…” Vi gestured vaguely toward my face.

I blinked. “What?”

“Here,” she said, and before I could react, she leaned in. Her fingers brushed my cheek, her thumb warm as it wiped a smudge of green ice cream from the corner of my mouth.

It was such a small touch. But it stopped everything.

She didn’t pull away right away. Her eyes flicked to my lips—slowly, carefully—and then met mine. The air between us shifted, suddenly charged. My breath caught in my throat. Everything about her—her nearness, the way her hand lingered just a second too long, the way she looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered—made the world go still.

I could’ve pulled back.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I leaned in, just slightly, testing the waters. Vi mirrored the movement instantly—like we’d both been waiting for this and didn’t want to move too fast and break it.

Her lips brushed against mine—soft, unsure, hesitant. When I didn’t move away, she kissed me deeper. Gentler. Like she wanted to memorize it, savor every second.

And I kissed her back.

It wasn’t desperate. It wasn’t rushed. It was slow and careful, like she was trying to say everything she hadn’t been able to in words.

When we finally pulled apart, both of us breathless, her forehead rested lightly against mine. Her hand still hovered near my cheek.

“Still not flirting,” she whispered, her eyes fluttering shut.

I laughed quietly. “Liar.”

But I didn’t let go.

And neither did she.

──────────────────────

masterlist

I honestly feel like this song captures what Mel probably feel towards her mother especially these verses

~Childlike mother and a motherly child Child like it's mother, like mother like child Too alike to love each other more Than acceptably mild A dog bites bones like a daughter bites her words Fight like wolves but flee like birds We're from the same pack but From rivaling herds~

I don't think Ambessa is a very affectionate person or honestly knows how to portray affection without making her feel like she is being weak which of course strained the relationship between her and her mother

I feel like she would listen to this song while laying on bed when she first left Noxus maybe reminiscing and hoping her mother could see her for what she is...

"If I cannot be wanted, I will be needed and if I cannot be needed let me be used until there's nothing left of me."

I swear I heard this quote and their faces just popped up in my head both Sevika and Vi even though hold polar opposite views and stand on opposite sides still manage to be unbelievably similar to eachother how they both at the end of the day are big emotionally messed up kind hearted women whose situations just made it impossible for them to love freely and of course live without opression god I am so down bad...

grayson x housewife!reader

pairing! grayson x housewife!reader

about! tonight you made an extra special dinner for your wife, and you simply couldn’t wait for her to come home! but… when she didn’t come home at her usual time, you began to worry…

cw! nothing really (i mean unless you are SUPER duper sensitive!)

word count! 507

an! sorry this took a while to post, lowkey procrastinated writing this…. but it’s here now, hope this is my grayson redemption arc😔

today was simply going to be perfect! it was always perfect, really. this was your domain, sanctuary, your home. you were the “mighty housewife”, as grayson so lovingly put it. you loved cooking, cleaning, sewing, that was simply your love language. and tonight you thought you nearly out-housewifed yourself. you set the table with table mats, utensils in neatly folded napkins with pink embroidery, the best plates in the house you never let anyone use. vanilla candles, champagne chilled in a bucket of ice, this was going to be a special night. was there anything inherently special about this day? not in particular. you just felt like it.

but apparently grayson didn’t get the telepathic message. everything was set up, dinner was meticulously arranged on the plate and served on the table, but there was no grayson! maybe you just started cooking earlier to account for the desserts, perfect explanation. still… sitting at the dinner table with your head in your hands, your eyes kept flickering to the clock on the stove. you tapped a rhythmless sound on your cheek, watching the numbers change.

5:10.

5:12.

5:17.

5:24… and on and on.

in an attempt to taper down your frustration, you grabbed both the plates and slipped them in the oven to keep the food warm.

you let out a chuckle, because of the irony of course? because right when you put in the plates, grayson is going to come in the door right… now! now? she’s not here.

this simply just doesn’t make sense! grayson is never late, she even says “i leave 4 minutes early to get home at the perfect time for dinner.” what if something happened? what if she went out on an assignment and some… gang of criminals kidnapped her and the other officers? what if somehow she got hurt and is in the hospital at critical condition?! well now you don’t care if you technically worked yourself up, now you had to make sure your wife is okay! you paced back and forth in front of the pink rotary phone, contemplating if you should pick up the phone and turn the dial to call the hospital.

just then, the phone on the way to your ear, you heard the sound of keys fumbling with the lock… and grayson came in. a sheepish, out of breath grin on her face. huge bouquet of buttercups, white peonies and baby’s breath.

the phone fell from your hand as you stood in shock, before running nearly full speed and tackled her. your arms flew around her neck, rocking back and forth as you embraced.

“easy, love—im here, im here. im sorry i worried you, the florist was backlogged with orders, even though i put in the order weeks ago.” grayson lifted the bouquet, explaining everything with a look that said “please forgive me.”

“you… you got these for me? oh, you—!” you sniffled, happy tears welling up. “your lucky i love you!”

and you kissed her, gentle, loving, and overall… happy.

My obsession is becoming all-consuming. You can lock me up anytime you want mommy warlord !! 😏🧎🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️

I Belong to You

Summary: Who do you belong to?

(The reader is 18+ and gender-neutral. The ethnicity/race is preferably Black/POC.)

“I suggest we start making reinforcements, General. The guards at the borders are plenty, but we don’t know what tactics the enemy will soon use.” The lieutenant looked up to Ambessa, waiting for her response to his suggestion when his eyes caught you again, and quickly he began to stare like before.

Shit, you thought, your body urging you to try to cover up the mark again, but you fought it off. It was against Ambessa’s orders for the day: “Unless I tell you to, you will not cover up my markings, little one. You will proudly display them.” Standing at her side, you tried to appear as professional and unbothered as she was, but you were quickly failing at it. 

By ‘markings,’ she meant the obvious hickeys she had left upon your body. She had been in a particularly ravenous mood the night before and chose to leave them on your neck, shoulders, arms, wrists, and even on your chest and stomach. Thank goodness that your outfit covered a large amount of your body; the only skin visible to others were your neck, shoulders, and wrists. 

“Lieutenant,” Ambessa said, looking down at him, a look of pride visible on her face. You didn't have to be a mind-reader to know that she was enjoying this.

“Yes?” The man responded, trying to ignore the dark bruises on your visible skin.

“Is there something wrong with my (Y/N),” she asked, her lips quirking up into a faint smirk. You tried to ignore it, but the sound of her calling you ‘My (Y/N)’ had butterflies fluttering in your stomach and a hot feeling stirring in your nether regions. You saw a familiar look in her eyes, one that was present the night before, and the hot feeling grew 10x times hotter.

“No, ma’am,” he answered, finally lowering his gaze down to the ground, hoping he hadn’t angered her. 

“Then what are you staring at,” She asked, looking back at the man, while bringing a hand up to caress the side of your face. Before you knew it, you pushed your face into her hand and nuzzled it, like the  desperate puppy she called you last night. 

“Nothing, General. May we start the reinforcements today?” he questioned, a bead of sweat beginning to roll down the side of his face in fear. Everyone knew how possessive the Warlord could become with her lovers.

A chuckle left her as she stood in silence, her hand still caressing your face. Even though she wasn’t looking toward you anymore, she knew you probably held the cutest desperate puppy look in your eyes.

“Yes, you may,” she told him, moving her hand from your face down to your shoulder. Nodding, the man hurried and left, Rictus following soon after him, and standing outside the door, already aware of the events soon to take place in the room.

It was silent for only a second before she pulled you close to her body, wrapping an arm around your waist and cupping your face with her other hand, smirking down at you. “You wear my markings beautifully, little one.”

“Bess, please. Can’t I cover up just a little?” 

“Absolutely not. I need others to know who you belong to? Understand?” She lowered her face towards yours, and you immediately moved yours closer, your lips almost touching hers. 

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

“Then tell me, darling, who do you belong to?” 

The hotness inside you grew even more and you knew that tonight there would definitely be more ‘markings’ covering your body. 

“You, Ambessa. I belong to you.”

Mizu, femininity, and fallen sparrows

In my last post about Mizu and Akemi, I feel like I came across as overly critical of Mizu given that Mizu is a woman who - in her own words - has to live as a man in order to go down the path of revenge.

If she is ever discovered to be female by the wrong person, she will not only be unable to complete her quest, but there's a good chance that she'll be arrested or killed.

So it makes complete sense for Mizu to distance herself as much as possible from any behavior that she feels like would make someone question her sex.

I felt so indignant toward Mizu on my first couple watchthroughs for this moment. Why couldn't Mizu bribe the woman and her child's way into the city too? If Mizu is presenting as a man, couldn't she claim to be the woman's escort?

However, this moment makes things pretty clear. Mizu knows all too well the plight of women in her society. She knows it so well that she cannot risk ever finding herself back in their position again. She helps in what little way she can - without drawing attention to herself.

Mizu is not a hero and she is not one to make of herself a martyr - she will not set herself on fire to keep others warm. There's room to argue that Mizu shouldn't prioritize her quest over people's lives, but given the collateral damage Mizu can live with in almost every episode of season 1, Mizu is simply not operating under that kind of morality at this point. ("You don't know what I've done to reach you," Mizu tells Fowler.)

And while I still feel like Mizu has an obvious and established blind spot when it comes to Akemi because of their differences in station, such that Mizu's judgment of Akemi and actions in episode 5 are the result of prejudice rather than the result of Mizu's caution, I also want to establish that Mizu is just as caged as Akemi is, despite her technically having more freedom while living as a man.

Mizu can hide her mixed race identity some of the time, and she can hide her sex almost all of the time, but being able to operate outside of her society's strict rules for women does not mean she cannot see their plight.

It does not mean she doesn't hurt for them.

Back to Mizu and collateral damage, remember that sparrow?

While Mizu is breaking into Boss Hamata's manse, she gets startled by a bird and kills it on reflex. She then cradles it in her hands - much more tenderly than we've seen Mizu treat almost anything up to this point in the season:

She then puts it in its nest, with its unhatched eggs. Almost like she's trying to make the death look natural. Or like an accident.

You see where I'm going with this.

When Mizu kills Kinuyo, Mizu lingers in the moment, holding the body tenderly:

And btw a lot of stuff about this show hit me hard, but this remains the biggest gut punch of them all for me, Mizu holding that poor girl's body close, GOD

When Mizu arranges the "scene of the crime," Kinuyo's body is delicate, birdlike. And Mizu is so shaken afterward that she gets sloppy. She's horrified at this kill to the point that she can't bring herself to take another innocent life - the boy who rats her out.

MIZU'S ONE MOMENT OF SOFTNESS AND MERCY, COMING ON THE HEELS OF HER NEEDING TO KILL A GIRL TO SPARE HER THE WORST FATE THAT THIS RIGID SOCIETY HAS TO OFFER WOMEN, AND TO SPARE A BROTHEL FULL OF INNOCENT WOMEN WHO ARE THE CASTOFFS OF SOCIETY, NEARLY RESULTS IN ALL OF THEIR DEATHS

No wonder Mizu is as stoic and cold as she is.

And no wonder Mizu has no patience for Akemi whatsoever right before the terrible reveal and the fight breaks out:

Speaking of Akemi - guess who else is compared to a bird!

The plumage is more colorful, a bit flashier. But a bird is a bird.

And, uh

Yeah.

I like to think that Mizu killing the sparrow is not only foreshadowing for what she must do to Kinuyo, but is also a representation of the choice she makes on Akemi's behalf. She decides to cage the bird because she believes the bird is "better off." Better off caged than... dead.

But because Mizu doesn't know Akemi or her situation, she of course doesn't realize that the bird is fated to die if it is caged and sent back home.

Mizu is clearly not happy, or pleased, or satisfied by allowing Akemi to be dragged back to her father:

But softness and mercy haven't gotten Mizu anywhere good, recently.

There is so much tragedy layered into Mizu's character, and it includes the things she has to witness and the choices she makes - or believes she has to make - involving women, when she herself can skirt around a lot of what her society throws at women. Although, I do believe that it comes at the cost of a part of Mizu's soul.

After all, I'm gonna be haunted for the rest of this show by Mizu's very first prayer in episode 1:

"LET" her die. Because as Ringo points out, she doesn't "know how" to die.

Kind of like another bird in this show: