Blasphemous-riot - Solace

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 :)

headcannons or a story with Vi and Jinx having a younger sister that has little space or who’s autistic?

Vi and Jinx having an autistic sibling

Vi is your protector and biggest advocate

She makes sure people respect your boundaries and understand your needs

Jinx is chaotic but surprisingly considerate

She might be unpredictable, but she always takes note of what makes you comfortable

They both learn your routines and help you stick to them

Vi is more structured, while Jinx turns it into a fun game

Vi is patient with your communication style

Whether you prefer direct conversations, struggle with eye contact, or need time to process, she never rushes you

Vi keeps noise levels in check

She makes sure loud situations don’t overwhelm you or helps you escape them if they do

Jinx is naturally high-energy but dials it down for you

If she notices you getting overstimulated, she’ll be quieter (or at least try)

They both help with sensory overload in their own ways

Vi is grounding and calming, while Jinx distracts you with something engaging

Vi has a weighted blanket for you

She doesn’t use it, but she got it just for you because she heard it might help

Vi helps you navigate social situations

She’ll gently guide you if you’re unsure how to respond to something

Jinx doesn’t care about social ‘norms’ anyway

So she never makes you feel bad if you don’t fit them

Vi teaches you self-defense

Not just physically, but also how to stand up for yourself if people don’t respect you

Jinx hates when people treat you differently

If someone talks down to you, she will start a scene

They never force you into conversations

If you don’t want to talk, they’re fine with just sitting in comfortable silence

Jinx will hyperfixate with you

If you have an intense interest, she’ll dive into it just so you can share it together

Vi encourages your passions

Even if she doesn’t fully understand them, she loves seeing you happy

Neither of them judge if you repeat things a lot

Whether it’s watching the same show, repeating a phrase, or wearing the same outfit, they don’t mind

Vi is protective but lets you be independent

She won’t coddle you but will always step in if you need her

Jinx will (lovingly) terrorize anyone who upsets you

Not really… but kind of

They both support you unconditionally

No matter what, they love you exactly as you are

Vi is your safe space

If the world gets too much, she’s always there to ground you

Jinx reminds you that being different is awesome

She had NO RIGHT looking that good!!! Anyway rock, paper DEFINITELY scissor🥴✂️🥵

Hii i love your works so muchh and I just wondered if you could do an Ambessa x reader (angst), where Ambessa was supposed to die from the black rose but it ended up being the reader. Thank youuu🫂💗

An Altruistic Act

Contains angst, death of reader

You knew the time would come, you did but never had the guts to really tell Ambessa.

You were married to her, step mother to Mel who seemed to despise you with all that was in her.

Whatever the case was, Ambessa's orders were clear, "Stay where you are, don't intervene, don't move," and so you did when you watched Caitlyn Kiramman initiating a fight with Ambessa, a move you would've normally said was foolish.

But you could sense something darker underlying, you didn't know what to do. Every cell in your body was yelling from you to intervene but you didn't want to let Ambessa down.

Then it happened.

Caitlyn’s quick reflexes severed Ambessa’s protection—her talisman, the one safeguarding her from magic.

The moment it was ripped away, the room seemed to still. A sinister force coiled in the air like a serpent ready to strike.

But you didn't want to let it. You couldnt.

Ambessa had to live, she couldn't die this way.

The next few events went in a total blur, you lunged in front of her is all you remembered. White hot pain shot through every single vein of your body, agony gripping you, threatening to eat you whole and then you landed on the ground with a thud.

All the air knocked out of you.

Vision blurring with tears from pain.

Absolutely everyone watching was petrified, transfixed wherever they were as they stared, trying to comprehend Ambessa's reaction only there was none.

The woman walked closer to your limp body, sinking down on her knees for once, cradling your head.

Ambessa tilted your head delicately as if afraid your head would come detached into her hands, "Why?" She questioned, she couldn't cry. She couldn't let herself.

"Ambessa," her word was a whisper on your lips, hand raising to cup the side of Ambessa's face. "I'd rather die, than live without you." Your thumb rubbed against her cheek in a soothing manner.

"But you were supposed to live," Ambessa said, voice almost strained with emotion but she wouldn't let her resolve crumble.

"So were you," you chuckled weakly but then your hand fell limp from her face, Ambessa grabbed your hand tightly in her own.

You could see from your peripheral vision— Caitlyn and Mel stood there, horrified by what just happened. Not only did they miss their shot at Ambessa, they shot someone else completely.

"Stay with me," Ambessa said although she knew it was of no use, pressing her forehead against yours with oh-so desperation as if it would magically cure everything.

"Ambessa, promise me," you said, dark edges creeping in your vision, "Promise me, you'll win this battle and every other one after this."

Ambessa nodded, "I promise," she said with so much emotion, no Noxian had ever heard her like this.

Ambessa felt you fading from her arms, golden eyes raising with pure rage to lock over Caitlyn and Mel.

Perhaps nobody had ever heard Ambessa being so vulnerable before but now? No one would ever hear that again.

There was nothing more to lose for Ambessa for they had taken away what kept her going at the worst times in her life.

You.

Fuck it

what are some of YOUR favorite HCs for our ladies? Any subjects, just things you haven't been able to bring up or talk about through requests

I wanna hear your thoughts :3c

~💜

Oh my gosh, finally someone wants to hear me outttt, you're the sweetest, anon 💜, thank youuu

Headcanons (Ft. Sevika, Ambessa Medarda, Violet, Jinx)

Author's Choice

Sevika

Multilingual through and through but sometimes a little bit of this language slips in through a little bit of that language because there's just so much in her vocabulary that she can't get across by using one singular language (Am I projecting? Yes.)

Sensitive to South Asian stereotypes and butch lesbian stereotypes

Likely to beat someone up over it

Grew up in a mysoginistic society which made her feel that she was somehow below men in the past but she doesn't let that affect her now

Considers dyeing her hair because she's insecure of the gray

In her past relationships, her ex girlfriends always made her feel like she needed to wear the pants in the relationship, so she never really was the one being spoiled, spooned or even simply headpatted

Loves being able to show even the slightest bit of feminity when she can with you, but it's rare because she's so insecure of it

If you bring it up, she'll say "Ridiculous," with a scoff and a head shake

Immensely insecure ever since she lost her arm and struggles with body image issues. Please reassure her

Has anger issues and breaks things when she's angry

She's just a kitten when she's angry so hold her close and hug her. Tell her it's okay and coo praises to her

No matter what I've seen other authors say, I think Sevika does get sort of abusive when she's angry, but she doesn't hit you of course. Instead, she slams and breaks things in the house

Ambessa Medarda

Brings you expensive gifts just because she can

When you sleep next to her, Ambessa hums a song and you can't help wonder of her melodious voice, and that she should sing more

Makes honey tea for you with her own hands and goodness does it taste like heaven, she tastes better though

Kneels down and does your straps for you even if her ego is so high, she loves kneeling before you in front of people to flash the dynamic of your relationship with her

Likely to propose only if you share the same loyalty for family as her

Eye contact means everything to this woman whether it's a normal setting, intimate setting or simply sex— look into her golden eyes and whisper "I love you"s

Would figuratively die out of concern if you ever got hurt in any way possible, wouldn't let you out of the Medarda Estate in fear you'll get hurt again. It may take a while for her trust in the world to build again, but she's not all that controlling

Shockingly lets you wear whatever you want to wear when outside but don't expect her to coddle you and take her time stripping you form those clothes. She is feral, she'll tear them off

Her love language is providing all sorts of protection that you need from whoever even if it may be the most dangerous person on the planet, you're safe with Ambessa

Vows to keep you safe whenever you fall asleep, mumbling them to herself as a constant reminder that whatever happens, her loyalty was to you and her family

Her kisses are surprisingly warm, gentle and calculated. She doesn't want to rush, and takes her sweet time. Sometimes it's barely tongue, and she just enjoys the feeling of your sweet lips against hers

Violet

Although she claims she doesn't care for your commands, if you told her to sit she'll sit

Favorite part of your body is your boobs no matter if they're big/small. She'll bury her face in them and even use them as stress balls. Nothing lewd really, she just likes sniffing them. What a pervert but come on, it's Vi

Loves interlacing her fingers with yours, rubbing the top of your hand with the pad of her thumb

Always carries sanitary pads/tampons for you to be your saviour at times of crisis

Can't stand your pout or your tears. Crocodile tears or not, Vi is buying you whatever you want or beating someone up over something that you want. She can't stand seeing her princess all pouty

"You're not scared of me, are you?" Vi's sometimes afraid what impression she gives off to you

Worried because you may be exposed to Shimmer. She doesn't care what the living conditions are, but she doesn't want you to get addicted to any sort of substance that can cause your life to go downhill

Stares at you so much you're sometimes worried whether she's even listening to what you have to say, or when you're just casually conversing she's staring at you as if you've grown two heads.

In reality, Vi takes one long look at you, one that could battle a stare contest, and decides you're too good for her. But she'll never say that out loud in fear you're gonna leave her

Scared she's gonna lose her shit and hit you when she's angry because poor baby has anger issues

Very much capable of confidently arguing with a child and losing

Jinx

Has anxious attachment issues with you, she knows it and you know it. But you both silently acknowledge that

Perfect dates mean bombing and terrorising Pilties with her... Or, you both could decide on a sugar marathon. Whichever you prefer

Her love language is putting effort into remembering the things that you like, often stealing the best of it from Piltover. Jinx makes you your favourite weapons in your favourite colour, with little scribbles that say you belong to her

Blushes when you hug her and she awkwardly returns it back but when she gets comfortable she can't stop hugging you

If you ever left her, she'd actually lose her shit, she's way too attached with you

Overthinks the whole love confession thing before you both dated and she lit your yard on fire with the words "I LOVE YOU"

Cried in your arms after Caitlyn shot her middle finger off. She was so upset, you almost gutted the woman for doing that to your baby

Sometimes she loses her shit, hallucinates and you wake up tied to her chair, her knife poking at your heart. "Love me. Love me. Love me." She repeats, her voice hoarse from screaming and crying. Jinx calms down eventually, unties you and asks you if she scared you. You always tell her no and give her headpats

Jinx is way too scared of relying on anyone emotionally and you can tell. You don't force her to trust you immediately but it is a slow process, she slowly starts to open up more

Swings her legs back and forth from the edge of the bed while you do her hair. Your arm workout is doing her hair

You motivate her to actually take care of herself, eat properly and shower. But you have to do it all with her

Surprisingly can pick you up

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.

Ambessa: Chosen of the Wolf Review!

Like many others who held their breaths anticipating the second season of Arcane back in November 2024, I too was drawn to the hype (Cait and Vi, ladies!). I love how the main characters are beautifully written–none are perfect; they have flaws, strengths, and weaknesses. The nuance of the interactions between these characters is full of emotional complexity that makes you, as an audience, relate to their feelings.

In other words, I’m an avid fan of the show!

So when I saw Riot was announcing a novel featuring one of the badass villains that I LOVE to hate, I immediately pre-ordered the audiobook!

Brief Summary of the Story:

Ambessa: Chosen of the Wolf written by C.L. Clark (same author who wrote the sapphic novel The Unbroken and The Faithless!) follows Ambessa Medarda, who we all know from Arcane series, is one hell of a badass warmonger Noxian general. Set a couple of years before the events of Arcane, the book dives into her backstory, showing her ambitions, relationships, and especially her complex bond with her daughter Mel. The story kicks off with Ambessa having a power struggle with her cousin Ta’Fik over the future of the Medarda clan. A full-on story about power moves, family drama (Medarda over all!), and her emotional battles in her personal and political life, which ultimately lead to her arrival in Piltover in the Arcane series.

Narration and the Audio Production: 

I love the fact that the audiobook is narrated by Ellen Thomas herself, the VA of Ambessa from the show!  Her voice is just perfect to capture the whole essence of the book! While I was hoping for some dramatization with sound effects or music, but it's a straightforward reading like a traditional audio book. Still, I enjoyed it nonetheless.

Personal Impressions:

The book nails Ambessa’s character just like in the show. It’s not one of those stories where they try to make the villain seem all soft and misunderstood. Nope, Ambessa is just as fierce and unapologetic as you remember. The author didn’t water her down or change her motives to make her seem more sympathetic. What you see in Arcane is exactly what you get here–no out-of-character moments. Ambessa care about her family and even protects them, but ambition has always been her main driving force. She’s willing to sacrifice her family members if they stand in the way of her goals. This theme is emphasized throughout the story and became a source of internal conflict within Ambessa herself as she has a hard time admitting it and often tries to deny it, but her actions speak louder than words.

About the Lore:

If you’re a fan of Arcane’s lore, this book is a must-read. It feels like a setup for the next Arcane show, which is heavily hinted to be set in Noxus. Even if you have zero knowledge of League of Legends lore, it’s a great introduction to the Empire, their cities, their war culture, and how the Noxian view magic in general. There is also a moment in the book where they talk about Demacia, a rival empire of the Noxian. It also serves as a setup for Mel’s backstory. Just after the end of Arcane season 2, Riot released a video called “Welcome to Noxus,” featuring Mel returning to Noxus to uncover the truth about her roots. This book delves deeply into that backstory, providing valuable context and enriching the narrative.

Overall Ratings

3.5 Stars - Good, with some minor issues

How Sapphic is this book?

There is a side character (one of the heroes in LoL that has a potential to appear in the next Arcane show) that has a sapphic relationship in the book, but it’s not the main focus of the story.

-----SPOILER ALERT------

The book sets the stage for another League of Legends champion: Rell! It turns out that Rell is Ambessa Medarda's protégé, which adds a fascinating layer to the character. Plus, she's sapphic, and her brief but adorable teenage romance with a young stable-hand named Tora unfolds during the conflict between Ambessa and Ta'fik. I'm super excited to see if Rell makes an appearance in the next Arcane show. The groundwork laid in this book hints at some thrilling possibilities for her character and storyline in the series.

THIS MOMENT

synopsis: what’ll happen when Yamaguchi Tadashi realizes he likes boys— his best friend, Tsukishima Kei, to be exact?

a/n: did i make myself cry while writing this? yes, yes i did. but this is for all you TsukkiYama shippers ;)

cw: *let me know if i missed something* angst, bullying, violence, blood (kinda), use of sexual slur, fluffy ending

i wanna give a huge thanks/shoutout to @usami-ichigo for helping w the title and beta-reading 🥺

word count: 1,593

Yamaguchi Tadashi and Tsukishima Kei have been friends since primary school; Tsukishima having helped the latter from some bullies. They have been by each other’s side since then- it’s rare to see one without the other.

For some odd reason, Yamaguchi had begun to- at times- get shy around Tsukishima in their last year of middle school- his stomach feeling weird and tingly. He would also find himself daydreaming about the latter. Wait, he’s my best friend, so why is this happening. I can’t like him; it’s impossible because I’m supposed to like girls- not boys.

Yamaguchi was very open with his mother and explained his feelings to her. “Tadashi, baby, I believe you may have a crush on Kei.”

Tearing up, he said, “b-but I’m supposed to like girls- not boys.”

“Tadashi, look at me,” there she goes with her soft voice and equally soft hands grabbing his face, turning it towards her. She wiped the tears off his cheeks with her thumbs while sending him a warm, comforting smile with a soft look in her eyes. “It’s okay if you like boys. You’re allowed to like whoever you want.”

“But won’t kids make fun of me? Won’t Tsukki be disgusted by me?” Just the thought alone is enough to send him into a panic. His mother hugged him, cooing words of consolation.

That night was when Yamaguchi Tadashi realized he had feelings for his best friend, Tsukishima Kei.

Fast forward a few months from his middle school promotion to his first year in high school: his feelings only grew as time passed. Thankfully, he was able to hide them from Tsukishima. But not from his classmates.

One day before volleyball practice, Yamaguchi was turning a corner when he bumped into someone. The person pushed Yamaguchi to the ground, looking at him with a look of disgust. “Watch where you’re going fag,” he spat out, emphasizing the last word. Yamaguchi looked down at his pants, his face flushing out of embarrassment.

“Hey, he’s blushing. I think he liked it,” the guy’s friend said, causing him to cackle.

“Oh, so you like that degrading shit? You kinky ass fag.”

“Repulsive.” The two looked at each other for a brief moment before nodding and kicking Yamaguchi. All the poor boy could do was curl into a ball and protect his head with his hands. The first boy grabbed him by the collar, yanking him up and off the ground, and gave him a harsh blow to the face; he’s going to have a black eye and busted lip after this. He threw Yamaguchi back on the ground and spit on him before walking away, laughing, with his friend.

None of the bystanders that watched the whole thing did anything to help him; they all just stood there, watching everything unfold as if it were some MMA match on TV. Yamaguchi heard some of the whispers from those that were around:

“I heard that he’s sucked off some of the teachers for a better grade.”

“I heard he gives himself up for money.”

“Guys like him disgust me.”

“He should go to hell for being gay.”

Yamaguchi tried to fight back the tears threatening to spill out from his eyes. He stood up from his place on the ground and continued on his way to the boys’ locker rooms.

He was relieved to see that it was empty. He wasn’t ready to be interrogated by his teammates. He stripped himself of the white uniform shirt- which had some faint tints of red. Yamaguchi drew his eyebrows together in confusion and looked down to examine the wounds; they were already forming dark purple bruises and had some small cuts. He opened his locker door and spared a glance towards the small mirror attached to the inside of it.

He was right; he did have a busted lip, and a bruise was also forming around his right eye with a small cut on his brow bone. Lightly bringing his fingers into contact with his swelling eye, he winced in pain. Tears started to form in his eyes again, no, not now. Just wait until later. I can’t cry right now. So he finished changing into his clothes for practice, slamming the locker door shut, and walking to the gym.

Stepping into the gym, Sugawara greeted him. “Hey, Yamaguchi!” and the latter mumbled a small hey in response. Sugawara’s eyes grew wide once he saw Yamaguchi’s state: busted lip, bruised eye, and slightly limping.

“Yamaguchi, are you okay?! What happened?” His senpai questioned, rushing over to him; this gained the other members’ attention, their eyes also blowing wide.

Yamaguchi ignored his question, only causing Sugawara to grow more worried. “Hey, what happened?”

“Nothing,” he mumbled in response. Once he got to his usual spot in the gym, he saw Tsukishima looking at him, concern and anger laced into his usually stoic expression. Yamaguchi tried to avoid his best friend’s gaze but couldn’t. Just one look into Tsukishima’s eyes was enough to have tears stream down Yamaguchi’s face.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Tsuksihima asked in a hushed voice. Yamaguchi gave a small nod in response and told his best friend what had happened- only loud enough for the latter to hear.

“So what if you are [gay]? Why the fuck do they care?” There was pure anger in Tsukishima’s voice, face gaining a tint of red from it. “Who was it? You know what,” he walked away from his spot and sped walked out of the gym.

“Tsukki? Where are you going?” the latter asked, rushing after him.

“I’ll just find them myself.”

“Stop.” Tsukishima kept walking, ignoring Yamaguchi’s attempts to stop him.

“Please, just leave it be.” Still, Yamaguchi was being ignored, which only made him grow frustrated. “Tsukishima Kei!” the other came to a sudden halt hearing Yamaguchi call him by his full name. “I said,” Yamaguchi’s voice was shaky, “stop. Leave it alone.”

“I can’t!” the other shouted, throwing his arms in the air out of frustration.

“Tsukki, stop.”

“I can’t!” Yamaguchi flinched at his shout.

“Please, Tsukki.”

“I can’t just let this go; why don’t you understand that, Yamaguchi?”

“Because it’s nothing! You’re just going to make things worse. It doesn’t matter anymore. It already happened; it’s in the past. Just let it go.”

Yamaguchi started walking away when Tsukishima grabbed his arm and pulled him into a hug. “Ts- Tsukki?” He just stood there, in the other’s arms, confused.

“I can’t let this go,” Tsukishima’s voice was softening, “because it pains me to see you like this.”

“Why do you care?” Yamaguchi tried to say sharply, but instead, it came out shaky.

“I’ve always cared, and I’m sorry for not showing it.”

He pushed the other away, “just stop. You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

“Yamaguchi,” he lowered his voice. He closed his eyes and started leaning in when the latter, once again, pushed him away, getting out of his hold.

“Tsukki, stop. You’re just going to lead me on.” Shit, he realized he had indirectly confessed. Fuck, why’d I had to say it aloud? Tears started to stream down his face because he could no longer hold them in.

It pained the tall blonde to see Yamaguchi crying and so vulnerable. He had to do something, but he didn’t want to do the wrong thing. He opted for pulling Yamaguchi in for a hug: one hand holding his head and the other rubbing small circles on his back.

“Tsu-”

“Please, just let me hold you.” Yamaguchi gave in to his words and hesitantly wrapped his arms around the latter. Tsukishima held him a little tighter with the fear of the other running away if he were to loosen his hold; he was already prepared for the other to run away. But to his surprise, Yamaguchi snuggled his face into the crook of his neck, causing Tsukishuma to stiffen a bit.

“Please,” Yamaguchi croaked out, “please don’t leave me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I’m… because I’m gay, and,” he paused, tears once again spilling from his eyes.

Tsukishima felt the warmth of his tears on his neck, then reassured him by softly saying, “I’ll stay no matter what you say.”

“And because,” he took a deep breath. “I like you,” he mumbled into his shoulder.

Tsukishima pulled away just enough to see Yamaguchi’s face, holding it with his hands and wiping the few tears on his cheeks. Yamaguchi leaned into his touch, closing his eyes. Was he always this pretty? Gosh, I’m definitely in love with him. Tsukishima took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he was about to say. “Yamaguchi,” the boy looked into his eyes, “I’ve always had this weird feeling when I’m around you.” Yamaguchi tried to turn his face away. He’s just trying to make me feel better. He doesn’t mean it.

Tsukishima held his face in place, “and now I think I understand the feeling. I love you, Tadashi.” And that was it, he said them. But did he mean it? He must have meant it if he used Yamaguchi’s given name, right? He just has to say back, even if Tsukki is lying.

“I love you too, Kei.”

“I promise I won’t leave you.” He planted a kiss on Yamaguchi’s forehead. The two boys stood there- foreheads now pressed together.

What does this mean? What will happen to their friendship? Those are questions to be answered another time. Right now, all they’re thinking about is savoring this moment.

© putmeinyourdeathnote

This is my first time ordering here. AAAAAHHH It took me a while to gather up the courage.

I want one from the time Violet was in prison. I totally imagine Vi having her first experiences with the woman who did her tattoos (tattoo artist), with her being the only person Vi trusts in prison and more experienced then our fighter. 🫦👀

OOOHH I'm embarrassed now 🙈🙈 Me feel a teenager again

new to this.

sub!vi x dom!reader. tw: smut. fingering. vi is inexperienced. light degradation. praise. men dni! a/n: AWW HI THERE!! i'm glad that you got the courage to ask me for this, because i love this idea so much!! fair warning, i have a kindergarteners level knowledge about prisons, but i know that prisoners typically have cellmates so you guys are cellmates! i'm following a more real life logic rather than arcane 😅 i apologize if this is inaccurate in any way, thank you for this again, anon~

vi was laying on her side in her bed– if you could even call it that. the mattress was so thin it barely covered the wood it was laying on. uncomfortable, but she'd gotten used to it. used to laying on her side staring at your pretty face. you were the thing that made this prison bearable.

you were the resident tattoo artist. most of the inmates in stillwater that had tattoos (vi included) had gone under your steady hand to get them. your work was incredible, and it earned you lots of favors. intel, extra food, cigars even– but you always declined. you had given up on keeping score long ago, not too long after being thrown in here.

thrown in here with... the prettiest girl you'd ever seen. honestly, you didn't understand how such a sweet girl could commit a crime heinous enough to be tossed into a place as horrid as this. you very quickly learned, however, that it was false imprisonment. it wasn't easy, but you'd managed to grow close to your pink haired cellmate, and you'd become quite fond of her. she came to you for all three tattoos she wanted, and thanked you endlessly for the incredible work.

being fond of her was a crime in itself, though. you found yourself staring at her more often than you should've, and you caught her staring back at you more often than not. your gaze often traveled down to her arms, her hands, those thighs... you'd fallen asleep many times with thoughts of her in your head. her constantly getting into fights didn't help– she'd be returned to your shared cell with a bloody nose or a black eye, and you'd take care of her, as always.

tending to her wounds just led to more longing. you hadn't realized how badly you'd been yearning for her until she'd gotten a particularly nasty fork wound on her thigh. she was sitting there in boxers while you made sure to clean the bleeding holes to the best of your abilities. that was months ago, but you still remember the feeling of her eyes on you, the way your stomach flipped at every little gasp or twitch from her, and the way your eyes kept drifting just a little further upward.

months later, here you are in your current predicament. you're staring at her from across the room, both of you holding eye contact. your heart is beating faster than usual. you'd both just gotten done eating, and now it was lights out. there were a couple dim lights on in the hallway, the shadows making vi's face look even softer than it usually did. there was an unspoken tension, and you knew she felt it too if the way she was looking at you like she wanted to kiss you was any indication.

"violet, you want something. i know that look." you state, propping yourself up on your elbow.

"i- hey! i don't like how you know me that well. i just... i've been thinking." vi sighs, you can immediately tell something is wrong. she sat up, but she's not looking you in the face anymore.

"about?" you prompted after a few minutes of silence. vi was obviously contemplating something, and it was making you anxious.

"you? us? i don't know. just... there's something between us, and i know you feel it too." her eyes flicked up to yours, then down to the bedsheet a couple times.

you didn't even speak. you got up, walking over to sit down beside her and grab her hand. vi turned to look at your entwined hands, giving a light squeeze before meeting your eyes. you leaned in, mouth close to her ear.

"do you want this?" you ask, voice hardly louder than a whisper. your free hand moved to rest on her thigh.

"want w- oh. i've never... i'm new to this." vi hesitated, nervous to say it out loud. she swallowed so hard, you swore you could hear it.

"hey, hey, that's okay. let me show you, yeah? we can stop at any time if you want to." you pull back enough to look her in her soft, grey eyes. you bring your hands up to cup her cheeks, making sure she's focused and listening.

"yeah... i'll let you." vi nodded in your hands, eyes closing with a soft sigh.

you kept your hold on her face, but leaned in to kiss her. her lips were softer than you expected them to be, your own eyes closing as you relaxed at the feeling. you pulled back, but before you could even open your mouth to check on her, she presses her lips on yours again.

vi was a little messy with her kisses, but the more you kissed, the more she got the hang of it. your hands started to wander, one moving back to her thigh, and the other coming to hold her waist. your hands on her gave her the confidence to start to touch you. you felt one of her hands slide up your back, while the other held the side of your face. you smile into the kiss, both hands moving to her hips to gently tug her into your lap.

soon enough, you had vi straddling your thighs– knees on either side of your hips as you kissed. you pulled back, trailing your mouth down her jawline and to her neck. you nipped a little just above her collarbone to test her reaction. vi's soft gasp drew a wicked smile from you as you bit harder. you sucked a couple hickeys into her neck, giggling at her soft whimpers.

"can i take this off, pretty girl?" you ask, hands coming up to the hem of vi's shirt. she nods immediately, leaning back to help you pull the shirt over her head.

your eyes widened once her shirt was off. she was toned, you'd watched her work out before but you'd never seen her shirtless like this. you traced the contours of her torso with a hungry gaze, eyes coming to rest on her tits. her nipples were hard, chest flushed a light red from the blush that had taken over her face.

"stop staring! it's embarrassing." vi protested, crossing her arms over her chest.

"ah, ah. don't cover yourself up, vi, you're so gorgeous." you tell her, hands coming up to pull her arms away from her chest.

you used one hand to pull her body closer to you, your mouth latching on to one of her nipples. your free hand came up to twist the other one, drawing a moan from vi's pretty lips. you pulled back, your hand stopping it's movements.

"sshh, don't be so loud. do you wanna wake the whole hall?" you whispered, purposefully squeezing her breast to pull another noise from her. she quickly shook her head, resting her forehead on your shoulder.

"yeah, that's what i thought. c'mon, baby, can i lay you down?" you speak softly, feeling the vulnerability radiating off of the girl in your lap. you feel vi nod against you, and slowly move her onto her back. she's looking up at you through pink locks of hair, her lips parted as she breathes a bit heavier than usual.

you crawl between her legs, leaning over her to plant a couple kisses on her lips. her head tilts back as you kiss down her neck, breath quickening. her hands fist the sheets as you trail down her collarbone, to the valley between her breasts, down her stomach, and finally to the waistband of her pants. you look up, eyes meeting hers and hands coming to rest on her hips.

"can... is this okay? can i take these off?" you slowly rub her hips, keeping your voice soft. you're trying to make her feel as comfortable as you can.

"y-yeah, uh," vi clears her throat, taking a deep breath. "go for it."

you nod, beginning to slowly slide her pants down, and eventually off her ankles. you run your hands up and down her thighs, trying to soothe her.

"you're so pretty, vi. so, so gorgeous. are you okay?" you query, resting your head on her inner thigh as you stare up at her. your breath hits dangerously close to where she wants you, causing her to try and squeeze her thighs together.

"mmh- yeah, fine. want you so bad." she pants, voice taking on a higher pitch than usual. she's doing her best to keep quiet, you can tell.

"yeah? i'm sure you do, baby. let's get these off." you smile at the neediness in her voice, moving to slowly pull her boxers off. it takes everything in you not to let out a moan at how pretty she looked.

vi's pussy was already soaked. she was practically dripping onto her sheets already, you hadn't realized how long you'd been staring until she closed her legs. you immediately pushed them back open, earning a gasp from her. you reached one hand up, running your index finger through her folds to see how she'd react. she almost jumped out of her skin, hips jerking with a sharp gasp.

"fuck! baby-" she whined, immediately covering her mouth with her hands. you smiled, giggling at how desperate she was already.

"aww, what is it? you need me that bad, huh?" you ask, voice falsely saccharine. you ran your finger through her heat again, dragging it more firmly over her clit.

"uh huh! mmf, please, please! i need it." vi begs, turning her head to bury her face in the thin pillow. it wasn't doing much to hide her, but you wouldn't tell her that. you did, however, warn her.

"okay, baby, okay. i'm gonna put one finger in, alright? is that okay?" you continue rubbing her outer thigh with your free hand. you kept a close eye on her face, half of it still visible, for any signs of discomfort or pain.

that's the question that made vi look up at you, her expression already looking fucked out despite you having not even done anything. she nods, a string of quiet begs coming from her. that's all you need to push your finger in, watching as vi's hips twitch slightly. she brings her hand to her mouth, eyes squeezing shut as you push your finger in and out. you do that for awhile, trying to get her used to the feeling.

it doesn't take her long before she's already begging for a second, and of course you oblige. who are you to decline a pretty girl whos asking so nicely? a second finger being pushed in draws a low groan from her, back arching.

"that feel good, sweetheart?" you scissor your fingers, pace gentle as you let her adjust. she doesn't properly answer, just whines and pushes her hips down on your hand faster.

"aww... such a slut for me, huh? so greedy." you tease, voice slightly condescending. your words draw a high pitched whine from her. you watch as her hands move to fist the sheets, eyes looking down between her thighs.

"please? more, i need more- oh god!" vi's words quickly cut off whenever you hit a gummy spot inside her after hooking your fingers. her hips jerk into your hand, moans more freely spilling from her lips.

"ah, there we go. you sound so pretty, baby." you smile, happy she was enjoying herself so much. you angled your fingers to keep hitting that bundle of nerves in her, drawing moan after moan and whine after whine. vi had given up on muffling herself, she knew she was probably waking up the whole block but she couldn't care less.

she felt way too good, feeling the electricity run through her body. the muscles in her stomach tightened, back arching further off the bed as she panted. vi couldn't help it, her hand reached to grab the hand you had on her outer thigh. she squeezed it, and almost immediately, all of the tension in her body released. pleasure washed over her like a wave in the ocean, and her body went lax. she was breathing heavy, eyes closed, hand death gripping yours.

you pull your fingers out of her, licking them clean before trailing kisses up her thighs, over her stomach, all the way up to her face. you take a second to dip down and lick the rest of her clean, not bothering trying to clean the sheets knowing laundry day was tomorrow. once she lets your hand go, you both sit up and face each other.

vi is still panting, but she's breathing easier now. "oh my god. does that always feel that good?"

"yeah, pretty much. god, you looked so pretty." you praise, moving her hair out of her face and gently cupping her cheek.

she blushes bright red, looking down instead of making eye contact. "h-hey! you can't just say that. you were doing all the work." she argues.

"hush, you did good too. i'm proud of you for going out of your comfort zone for me." you smile softly at her, thumb caressing her cheek. "let's get your clothes back on, yeah? you can sleep in my bed tonight." you offer.

vi looks up at you and nods immediately. "sounds good to me! lucky we did this before laundry day..." she shakes her head playfully, standing up and stretching before bending to pick up her clothes.

"i'm tempted to hide your clothes from you so i can see your body for longer." you tease, watching as she slides her boxers and pants back on.

she giggles, turning around to look at you as she puts her shirt on. "you hide my clothes, i'll never get another tattoo." she jokes back, knowing how much you'd been begging her to get another tattoo from you. she looked so pretty inked up, how could you not?

"hey! okay okay, no hiding clothes!" you stand up, grabbing her hands. "you truly are gorgeous, though." you say, sighing as you stare into her eyes with adoration. vi leans to kiss you, pulling you over to your bed.

"whatever you say, babe." she lays down, gesturing for you to lay beside her. you do, resting your head on her chest and closing your eyes.

"i love you, violet."

"i love you too."

a/n: i am SO sorry this took me so long, i was dealing with a lot of shit this week and part of last, on top of going through a big period of feeling more ace so 😅 working on this was difficult, but i'm finally done!! i'm very inexperienced at writing smut, so i apologize if any of this sounds cringy or bad. thank you for the request, anon, and i hope you request again !! i loved this idea <3

hi… hc’s for dark! grayson?

— dark!grayson 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

𝜗𝜚 Dark!Grayson who you met in Zaun. Being a Zaunite came with its risks, especially when it came out of necessity. You'd hurt, fight, and steal from anyone to survive. So when you got into a fight with someone else in Zaun, setting their stand on fire, Grayson had the Sheriff's responsibility to check out what happened.

𝜗𝜚 She had an eyebrow cocked, staring down at you with her enforcer mask covering her features. "Did you set this man's property on fire?" She asked, as if you'd ever be honest, far too gullible you thought. Her voice had the sound of a chronic smoker with some charm to it.

𝜗𝜚 You fawned, a pout forming on your face. You made yourself seem smaller, hands behind your back innocently. You had crocodile tears forming in the corners of your eyes. "I didn't, ma'am." Your bottom lip trembled purposefully. "The stand was already on fire, swear it was, Sheriff!" Your voice cracked as the tears fell.

𝜗𝜚 Grayson huffed, she looked nearly convinced. "Are you certain? People around these areas don't make reports unless necessary." You looked so sweet, sickeningly sweet even. She couldn't believe a woman like you did such a thing, but it was her job to interrogate. "I promise, everyone here knows I stay out of the way!" Your words seemed so promising, she couldn't help but let her guard down.

𝜗𝜚 "You know I have to make an arrest, right?" The pout on your face deepened but your lips let out a resigned sigh. You fluttered your lashes at her, beady tears on the tip of them. "Do you really have to put handcuffs on?" She moved you so gently, putting your hands behind your back and securing them on your wrists with a firm nod to your question.

𝜗𝜚 "Nothing will happen if you cooperate, okay?" You nod, letting her walk you with her hand harshly on your upper arm.

𝜗𝜚 Since then, it's been a power dynamic going on between your two. Constant threats from her to throw you in jail and fawning from you so she wouldn't. You never imagined a quick act to get yourself out of repercussions would lead you here.

𝜗𝜚 "Don't test me, girl." She'd reply to your behavior with a finger pointed at your chest. You treaded a line of questioning her authority over you and she wasn't afraid to remind you. "I took you out of that place and I could easily put you somewhere worse." Her stern gaze didn't move from your shaky one. "Do you understand me?" Her voice raised, ensuring a nod from you.

𝜗𝜚 You'd wait for her to cool down on the ground besides her, resting your head on her knee as she sat back on the couch trying to collect herself. Her hand would pet your head as she calmed, sighing and then patting her lap for you to crawl up. Once you got the gesture, you'd immediately find your way onto her and hide your face into the crook of her neck. "M'so sorry Gray'," You'd whimper.

𝜗𝜚 She'd take you to every ceremony and gathering of the enforcers, walking you on her arm like a pet or arm-candy. She'd prance you around in classy dresses, everyone knowing you were picked up like a stray from the streets of Zaun. The powertrip always got to her, kissing you fervorly as everybody watched and wished they could get their hands on you. "Gonna ruin you when we're home doll," and all you could do was nod dumbly.

𝜗𝜚 She fucks you skin to skin, preferring her hands, mouth, and cunt over a strap-on. She only uses a strap-on when she needs to assert strength or let out stress. If not, she's usually knuckles deep inside your pussy, curling them into the spot that makes your eyes roll back into space.

𝜗𝜚 The nasty squelching noises would serve as a reminder of who you belonged to, who made you feel this good. Your moans echoing and her condescending praise right besides your ear. "Just a stray puppy, need to fuck you to compensate, right?" She bit down on the lobe of your ear after each sentence.

𝜗𝜚 She loves being called "officer" or "ma'am", hearing you call her those things as you beg to taste her just fuels her ego. Your knees were sore from how long you've been pleading on them, "Please ma'am, let me eat you, need a taste," She groaned, fisting your hair and pushing your head into her bush but not giving you permission to dart your tongue out. "Officer, please, it'll feel so good.." You tease her cunt by flicking your tongue and she chuckles, letting you finally get what you wished for.

𝜗𝜚 Dark!Grayson who keeps you on an invisible leash constantly, just grateful she got so damn lucky in the slums of Zaun ♡