I Honestly Feel Like This Song Captures What Mel Probably Feel Towards Her Mother Especially These Verses

ꜱʜɪᴍᴍᴇʀ ᴋɪʟʟꜱ ᴘᴛ 2

ᴊɪɴx | ꜱᴇᴠɪᴋᴀ | ᴇᴋᴋᴏ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | || ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ || 5815 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴍᴜʀᴅᴇʀᴇᴅ, ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ, ᴅʀᴜɢꜱ/ꜱʜɪᴍᴍᴇʀ, ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴄᴀɪᴛʟʏɴ | ᴠɪ | ᴍᴇʟ ᴠᴇʀꜱɪᴏɴ

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊɪɴx | ꜱᴇᴠɪᴋᴀ | ᴇᴋᴋᴏ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ

JINX

It was a cold, oppressive night in the heart of Zaun, the air thick with the scent of oil and smog. The world felt too heavy for Jinx, her mind teetering on the edge of something darker, something that always felt just a little too close. But tonight, there was something even worse lurking in the shadows.

Y/N had always been there for her—like a sister, a steady presence in Jinx's chaotic life. The older woman, warm and patient, had been the first person to ever show her kindness, to let her see the world as something other than an endless series of explosions and pain. Y/N understood Jinx in a way that no one else did. And she never judged.

But tonight was different.

Jinx had seen them—shimmer addicts, the same ones who’d been hunting down anyone they could get their hands on. They had appeared out of nowhere, their eyes glowing with the unnatural light of the mutagen, their bodies twitching and full of fury. Jinx hadn’t been fast enough to dodge them, her head swirling with thoughts of her old friends and of the things she had lost. Her hand had reached for a weapon, but before she could strike, the shimmer-addicts lunged at her, their eyes flashing red.

Then, out of nowhere, Y/N had appeared, her expression fierce as she shoved Jinx aside. The shimmer addict, a man whose body contorted unnaturally from the drug, swung his weapon with a brutal force. Y/N caught it in midair, her strength surprising even Jinx.

"Go!" Y/N shouted, her voice strained. "Get out of here, Jinx! Now!"

But Jinx stood frozen, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn’t want to leave her friend, her protector, to face this alone.

Without warning, Y/N had grabbed the shimmer user by the waist, pulling him close, her arms wrapping around him as tightly as she could. The addict flailed wildly, his arms caught in her grip. Y/N’s strength was incredible, but even she couldn’t hold on much longer.

The ground beneath them began to crack, and Jinx watched, helpless, as they both tumbled back. Y/N’s arms tightened around the man just as the pit below them yawned open, swallowing them both into the abyss.

"No!" Jinx screamed, her heart breaking as she tried to reach for Y/N, but it was too late. The darkness of the pit swallowed her voice, and the world went eerily still.

Jinx couldn't remember how long she had stood there, frozen in place, staring at the black void that had taken Y/N away. But the pain in her chest was so deep, it felt like her heart had shattered into a thousand pieces. She hadn’t even had time to say goodbye.

=

The days that followed were nothing but chaos. Chaos flooded her mind—more than it ever had before. Jinx could feel herself spiralling, but there was something else, too.

It was Y/N.

She had started seeing her—hearing her voice in the back of her mind.

"Jinx," Y/N’s voice echoed, soft and reassuring, "It’s okay, I'm still here."

It wasn’t possible. Y/N had fallen. She had to have fallen. Yet, Jinx couldn't shake the feeling that she was still there—watching over her.

Every time she closed her eyes, she could see her: Y/N’s warm smile, her comforting presence, her laugh that made everything feel like it was going to be okay, even when it wasn’t.

But something was wrong. Y/N’s image was fading—blurred, distant, like a faint memory she was struggling to hold onto. And then, the voice. The voice that had once been a source of safety, of solace—now felt hollow, accusing.

"Jinx…"

It was soft, yes, but there was something sharp in it, something Jinx had never heard before. The warmth was gone, replaced with a cold edge. Y/N’s face, when it appeared, was a twisted mockery of the woman Jinx had known. The smile, once bright and full of warmth, had now become a sad imitation, her eyes hollow, like she had been staring at Jinx from a place far beyond her reach.

"Jinx..." The voice spoke again, low and quiet. "You shouldn’t have let me go..."

Jinx flinched, the words cutting through her chest like a blade. She tried to shake it off, to push the hallucination away, but it lingered, relentless, like a shadow that refused to leave her alone. Was Y/N blaming her? Was it her fault Y/N had fallen?

"No... no..." Jinx whispered, tears threatening to spill as she clutched her head, trying to make the voice stop. "I didn’t want you to go. I tried... I tried so hard, Y/N!"

But Y/N’s image only faded and returned, morphing into something darker. The voice was no longer comforting, no longer a source of strength. It twisted in the air, accusing, and Jinx felt herself suffocating beneath the weight of it.

"You weren’t fast enough, Jinx," the voice came again, colder now. "You didn’t save me. You never save anyone..."

Jinx’s breath hitched. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Her hands trembled as the image of Y/N flickered before her, an ethereal, fading presence, pulling further and further away from her grasp.

"I... I was too slow..." Jinx whispered, her voice breaking. "I didn’t mean to... I tried to protect you, I did, but... but I couldn’t... I wasn’t enough..."

The hallucination shifted, Y/N’s form becoming almost unrecognisable now—her face twisted in silent judgment, her eyes now accusing, like she could see every failure, every mistake Jinx had ever made.

"You never could do enough, could you?" Y/N’s voice whispered, now almost bitter. "You let me fall."

Jinx’s heart twisted with guilt and sorrow. It felt like the weight of the world was crushing her chest. The shimmer had taken over her mind, warping her memories and emotions into something unrecognisable. But the guilt—the crushing guilt—was all too real. The things Y/N was saying, the things she had never even thought about before—was it all her fault?

"No, Y/N," Jinx whispered, her hands gripping her head tighter. "Please, don’t leave me like this… I didn’t mean to... I couldn’t stop it."

But the hallucination didn’t respond. It only stood there, the accusing image of Y/N still lingering in the air, forever out of reach.

Jinx’s mind screamed for it to end, but all she was left with was the sound of Y/N’s voice, forever haunting her, always reminding her of what she could never undo.

She had failed. She had failed Y/N. And she would never forgive herself for it.

SEVIKA

Sevika sat at the bar in The Last Drop, nursing a glass of something strong. Her eyes were tired, haunted. She hadn’t been able to sleep properly since that night. The weight of it clung to her—Y/N's face, the last words they'd shared, the warmth of her hand slipping away in the cold.

The glass in her hand felt heavier than usual, as if the very weight of her grief had sunk into the amber liquid. She had no one to blame but herself. No one could have stopped the shimmer addict, the madman who'd killed Y/N. But Sevika couldn’t shake the feeling that she should have been there, that somehow, she should have seen it coming.

Her thoughts drifted back to that night, the echo of the explosion still ringing in her ears. The sudden chaos, the flash of fire, the sound of glass shattering. The alley had been a war zone—a battlefield in the heart of Zaun, where death was all too common. But this time, it felt different. The second that explosion hit, everything seemed to shift, like the very world had spun off its axis.

Y/N... That voice—the soft whisper of her name—still haunted her. Sevika had been only a few steps behind. She'd seen Y/N's familiar silhouette, heard her gentle voice calling out as the explosion rang in their ears.

“Sevika… stay close, I’ll be alright.”

But Y/N hadn't been alright. The shimmer addict had been too quick, too crazed. Sevika had turned just in time to see the man’s wild eyes, the crazed grin, as he lunged toward Y/N with a blade in his hand. The shimmer in his system made him unpredictable, dangerous. Y/N hadn’t stood a chance. The flash of steel, the sickening sound of a blade cutting through flesh. Sevika’s blood ran cold. She reached for her gun, but it was too late. By the time she pulled Y/N into her arms, the damage was done. The woman who had always carried herself with such grace, the person who had offered comfort and guidance to the kids of Zaun, was now nothing but a crumpled, lifeless weight in her lap. No, no, no... Her breath came in short, frantic gasps as she tried to stop the bleeding, tried to do something—anything. But there was nothing to be done. Y/N’s blood mixed with the dirt of the alley, staining the streets she had once walked with such kindness. Y/N’s eyes fluttered open for a moment, weak and unfocused. She blinked as if seeing the world for the first time. Her lips parted, trying to say something, but no words came. “Y/N… please, don’t…” Sevika whispered, her voice a broken thing, rough with panic. “Please stay with me.” But Y/N’s hand moved—slowly, so slowly—reaching up to touch her cheek. The touch was soft, gentle, like it had always been, but this time, it felt different. There was an emptiness behind it, a finality Sevika couldn’t ignore. “Don’t…” Y/N whispered, barely audible. “Don’t let the darkness consume you… You’re better than that…” The words hit Sevika like a punch to the gut. Y/N had always believed in her. Always believed she could be more than the monster she’d let herself become. Now, Y/N was gone, and all Sevika had was the weight of her dying words.

“Y/N, no... no…” Her voice cracked, and with it, all the years of pain, regret, and fear poured out. Her chest felt like it was being crushed under the weight of the loss. Sevika held onto her, unwilling to let go. I couldn’t save you... I couldn’t... But Y/N’s hand fell limp in hers. Her body grew cold in Sevika’s arms, and the world around her seemed to still. The sound of the distant chaos, the crackle of burning buildings, faded into a hollow silence. Y/N was gone. Sevika couldn’t move, couldn’t think. She just held her, cradling the woman who had meant everything to her. But the minutes, the hours—how long had she been sitting there?—dragged on. The rain began to fall softly, mixing with the blood, washing everything clean, leaving only the memory.

Her thoughts now drifted back to the present. The bar around her felt distant, as if she were no longer a part of this world. The clinking of glasses, the low hum of murmurs from the other patrons—nothing mattered. Nothing could fill the emptiness inside her.

Jinx's voice cut through the fog of her grief. “Sevika…” The younger woman’s voice was soft but insistent. Sevika looked up to see Jinx standing beside her, her wide eyes flicking nervously between Sevika and the empty bottle in her hand. “You’ve been here for days.”

Sevika only gave her a cold stare, but inside, it was like a fist around her heart. Jinx had been there too. She’d lost someone she cared about, and yet, here she was, trying to keep things together. Trying to keep the chaos at bay.

“She’s gone, Jinx,” Sevika muttered, her voice rough with emotion. “Y/N… she’s gone, and I couldn’t save her.”

Jinx didn't say anything at first. She simply reached out, placing a hand on Sevika’s. It was warm against the cold bitterness that had settled inside her. “You didn’t do this, Sevika. You didn’t kill her.”

But Sevika couldn’t hear it. The shimmer addict who’d pulled the trigger was still out there, somewhere. He was the one to blame. He had taken Y/N from her. But the truth didn’t change the fact that Sevika hadn’t been fast enough, hadn’t been there in time. She’d failed.

The last thing Y/N had said to her echoed in her mind: “Don’t let the darkness consume you, Sevika. You’re better than that.”

Sevika closed her eyes, the tears threatening to break free. Y/N had always believed in her, always believed there was a way out of the darkness. But now, there was nothing left but the abyss.

“I’ll make them pay,” Sevika whispered, her voice cold and resolute. “I’ll make them all pay.”

Jinx nodded, the grim look in her eyes matching the one Sevika knew too well. “We will. But you need to pull yourself together first.”

Sevika’s expression hardened as she looked at Jinx. She nodded, her jaw clenched. “I’ll make it happen, Jinx. Just... leave me to it.”

With that, Sevika stood up, leaving her drink untouched. Her heart burned with the need for vengeance, the need to make the world feel her pain. The shimmer addict, the man who had torn everything apart... he would pay. And anyone who thought they could harm those she cared about would learn just how far Sevika was willing to go.

She walked out of The Last Drop, the sounds of the bar fading behind her, as she set her eyes on the streets of Zaun. There was work to be done, and Sevika would see it through, no matter the cost. She would avenge Y/N. The darkness would consume her enemies, not her.

EKKO

The dimly lit streets of Zaun had never felt colder, not even with the biting wind that usually swept through the alleyways. Ekko’s usual sharp, confident steps now faltered, each one dragging him closer to a pain he didn’t know how to deal with. His heart, once filled with hope, now felt heavy—like a weight that threatened to crush him entirely.

The news had hit him like a freight train. Y/N, the one person who had always been there, the one who had made everything feel brighter, was gone. And it wasn’t just any death. She’d been taken from them by someone who had dared to abuse the power of shimmer. A power that was meant to change the world for the better but had corrupted those who wielded it into monsters, willing to take anything, including lives.

Ekko had been there, fighting alongside her, feeling invincible as they always had. But this time, when the battle raged, it was different. He hadn’t been fast enough to save her. His hands trembled as he adjusted the goggles on his face, still not sure if he was seeing things clearly. He had come too late, just in time to see Y/N fall, her eyes filled with an expression he had never wanted to see: pain, fear, and worst of all, the realisation that she wasn’t going to make it.

Her last words were burned into his memory, though he hadn’t wanted to hear them. "Take care of them… Ekko... please..." It was a plea she had made countless times for the people of Zaun, and now it was for him. She had always put others first, always willing to sacrifice for the greater good. And now, she was gone.

But Ekko wasn’t here to make a statement or to seek vengeance. His path was one of healing, of remembering her for what she had been. He could have torn down the shimmer users who had done this, could have thrown his fury into every fight, but that wasn’t what Y/N would have wanted. No, she had always fought for something better, something more than just a cycle of revenge.

=

He stood in front of the mural that now adorned the wall in the heart of Zaun. It wasn’t just a memorial—it was a testament to who she had been, to what she had fought for. The mural depicted her as she had always been: kind, strong, and full of light. Her vibrant energy captured in the strokes of the paint, a smile on her face, her hands reaching out to the children, her heart always giving. And at the centre of the mural was the soft glow of her eyes, filled with the warmth and compassion that had touched every life she had encountered.

The children of Zaun, the ones who had loved her so dearly, were the ones who had painted the mural. It was their way of saying goodbye, their way of giving her something back after all the kindness she had shown them. Their small hands had brushed the vibrant colours onto the wall, their laughter ringing through the streets as they worked—just like she had always encouraged them to do. They had taken something painful and turned it into something beautiful, just like she had.

Ekko’s hand rested gently on the wall, his fingers brushing the image of her smiling face, his breath catching in his throat. She was still with him, in this space, in the memories, in the legacy she had left behind. The city had lost so much, but what Y/N had given would not be forgotten. The wall seemed to echo her spirit, reminding him of all she had fought for—her hopes, her dreams, her belief that they could make this city a better place, even in the face of darkness.

He closed his eyes, letting the memories flood over him. Her laugh, soft and comforting, had always been his safe place. Her endless dedication to the kids of Zaun, always working to mend the torn clothes of the orphaned, always helping without hesitation. The way her eyes would light up when she talked about her work, when she talked about making things better, when she talked about them. She believed in the future, in the people of Zaun, in the children, in hope. And now that hope had been shattered, leaving nothing but the aching void of her absence.

=

Ekko had tried to stop the pain, tried to hide it, but it was impossible. There was no hiding the loss, no denying it. But she wouldn’t want him to give in to the anger, to the darkness that shimmer had brought into their lives. She had always believed in doing better, in lifting each other up.

"I’m sorry," Ekko whispered, his voice breaking for the first time. "I should have been there… I should have—"

His words were interrupted by a soft voice from behind him, breaking the stillness. It was a child, one of the faces that had been painted in the mural.

"You couldn’t have stopped it, Ekko," the small voice said, filled with a wisdom beyond their years. "But we’ll carry on what she started. We won’t let it end."

Ekko turned, surprised to see the group of children standing behind him, their eyes filled with the same mixture of grief and resolve. Among them was a boy who had once been a tearaway, but now stood taller, stronger, his shoulders squared with a new purpose.

"We know," Ekko said softly, offering a sad but grateful smile. "She always taught you well."

The boy nodded, his expression serious. "We’ll change this place, Ekko. You don’t have to do it alone."

Ekko’s chest tightened as he looked at them, at the kids who had given so much of themselves to this city, who had lived through pain and loss, but were now standing tall in defiance. His eyes flickered back to the mural.

"Zaun will change," Ekko murmured to himself, his voice steady now, the storm inside him quieting. "Because she believed in it. And I believe in it too."

The tears that had threatened to fall now felt unnecessary. Instead, he stood tall, resolute. Y/N would never truly be gone, not while there were people here who remembered her, who would carry her legacy into the future. He would continue to fight, not for vengeance, but for the world she had always dreamed of. For the city that she had believed in. He would make sure that her hope wasn’t lost, that her vision for a better Zaun would live on.

"No more shimmer. No more corruption," Ekko said, a fire reigniting in his chest. "Only the work of those like her—who had made the world brighter by simply being in it."

With a final glance at the mural, Ekko turned away, the weight on his heart now transformed into something else. A quiet determination. A promise.

=

He knew that this city, broken as it was, could still heal. He would make sure of it. For Y/N. For all the children whose future she had worked so hard to build. For a world that would always need people like her. And as long as he had breath in his lungs, he would carry her spirit, her strength, her kindness with him.

Zaun would change. And it would change because of her.

Ekko turned to the children once more, his gaze steady.

"We’ll do it together," he said, his voice firm. "One step at a time."

The children nodded in unison, their faces alight with the same determination he now felt burning through his veins. They would rebuild. They would honour her. And Zaun would rise from the ashes, stronger than before.

SILCO

The streets of Zaun were never quiet, but tonight, something felt different. Silco, his face stoic and cold, walked through the alleys with purpose. The clink of his boots echoed in the damp air as he made his way to a familiar, darkened corner of the city. He had been searching for her all night, driven by a gnawing feeling in his chest. Y/N had been gone longer than he cared to admit, but something in his gut told him she was near.

When he reached the spot, the air was thick with the acrid stench of violence and the distinct metallic tang of blood. His eyes flicked to the ground, where he saw her. Y/N’s lifeless body lay in the gutter, blood staining her clothes, the warm glow of her skin already fading. A shimmer user, hunched over her, still thrusting the sharp steel inside her.

Without hesitation, Silco reached for his gun, his anger rising like a tide. His voice was a low growl as he spoke, just loud enough for the attacker to hear, “You. You dare lay your hands on her?”

The shimmer user didn’t even look up. Lost in their frenzy, they didn’t care who was watching. But it was too late for them to make a move. Silco pulled the trigger, the sound of the shot echoing down the street, loud and final. The shimmer user collapsed, their body falling to the cold stone with a sickening thud.

For a moment, Silco stood frozen. His heart raced in his chest, but there was no time for grief. His eyes shifted to Y/N. Her body was still warm, but the life had gone from her, leaving only the shell of the woman who had once been his everything.

He knelt beside her, his fingers gently brushing her hair from her face, wiping away the blood that marred her features. His hand trembled, but he steadied himself, his gaze hardening with a mixture of fury and sorrow.

With a deep, steadying breath, Silco lifted her into his arms. He held her close, the weight of her body in his arms almost unbearable. Her head rested against his shoulder, her once vibrant presence now an absence he couldn’t begin to accept. Every step he took toward The Last Drop felt heavier than the last, each movement pulling him further from the present moment and closer to the aching reality that she was gone.

=

The door to The Last Drop creaked open, the sound almost unnatural in the otherwise hushed atmosphere. Silco’s eyes, cold and calculating, scanned the dimly lit room. The few patrons still inside froze at the sight of him, their eyes darting nervously toward the body he cradled in his arms. Y/N. The weight of her lifeless form was enough to silence the room.

Without a word, Silco moved through the bar, his steps heavy and deliberate. He wasn’t looking at anyone, didn’t acknowledge the whispers that were starting to ripple through the crowd. His gaze was fixed forward, focused on the narrow staircase leading up to their shared room. The only thing that mattered was getting her there.

The creak of the stairs under his boots was the only sound that followed him. The usual warmth of their room now felt distant, foreign. It hadn’t been long since Y/N had filled it with her presence — laughter, light, a sense of comfort that Silco had never truly known until she had entered his life. But that warmth was gone, replaced by the thick, suffocating cold of her absence.

As he gently laid her down on the bed, Silco’s hand trembled ever so slightly. He brushed a strand of hair away from her face, his fingers lingering on the skin of her cold cheek. His eyes, usually so steady and sharp, faltered for a moment, staring at her as though he could will her to wake up. To return to him.

But it was too late. She was gone.

"Y/N..." His voice cracked, the name falling from his lips in a low, broken whisper. "You can’t be gone. Not like this."

He stood there for a long moment, just staring at her. The silence in the room was deafening, pressing in on him from every angle. His chest ached in a way that no amount of rage could burn away. She was gone, and nothing could bring her back.

A dark chuckle, bitter and hollow, escaped his throat. "You always did think you were invincible, didn’t you? But you’re not. And now… now they’ll pay for this." The words came out in a growl, the promise of violence thick in the air.

He turned his back to her for a brief moment, walking toward the window. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, nails biting into his palms. The city of Zaun was out there, sprawled beneath him — a broken, chaotic mess, just like the world that had stolen Y/N from him.

He turned back to her, his gaze fixed on her now-still form. The overwhelming desire to break something, to make the world feel the same pain he was enduring, pulsed through his veins like wildfire. But in the back of his mind, beneath the fury, there was the raw, jagged ache of loss.

"I should have protected you," Silco muttered, his voice shaking. "But now… now it’s just me. And that’s not enough."

He took a step toward her again, crouching beside the bed. He placed a hand gently on her arm, as though touching her one last time might change something, anything.

"Rest now," he said softly, though the words were harder to say than he had anticipated. "Rest. And when I’m done with them… when I’m done with all of them… I’ll make sure no one forgets who you were. No one will forget us."

With that, he stood again, straightening his back. His posture returned to the cold, unyielding figure he had always been. Silco’s eyes hardened once more, but beneath that, there was a quiet sorrow that would never leave him.

He had one last promise to keep, and this time, it wouldn’t be broken.

BONUS: VANDER

The dim glow of the Undercity was never comforting, yet it had become familiar to Vander. The moans of machinery and distant shouts from the slums had been his life for as long as he could remember. But tonight, something was different. The air felt heavier, the silence thick with an unspoken weight pressing on his chest. The kids—Vi, Powder, Mylo, Claggor—were still in their rooms, but Vander couldn’t rest. His gaze drifted to the door, as though waiting for someone who would never come through it again.

Y/N. She had been everything to him—an anchor, a light amidst the madness that surrounded them. But now, she was gone, torn from him by the cruelty of a shimmer-fuelled rage.

=

It had been a quiet evening, the Last Drop bathed in the soft light of flickering candles, the steady hum of conversation swirling around the bar. Y/N had been there, laughing at something silly one of the kids had said, her bright voice a balm against the chaos of their lives. Vander could still see her, standing near the counter, her dark eyes glinting with the warmth that she always brought into the room.

And then the door had crashed open. A shimmer addict, his eyes wide and unhinged, stumbling into the bar. He was high—frantic. The madness of the drug turning him into something far worse than just a person in pain. The scuffle had been sudden, too fast for anyone to react. Someone had shouted, and then everything descended into chaos.

It had happened so quickly, too quickly. Vander hadn’t even realised that Y/N was caught in the middle of it until it was too late. The shimmer user, desperate and panicked, had lashed out. The air was filled with the sounds of broken glass, muffled shouts, and the sickening thud of fists meeting flesh. When Vander had forced his way through the crowd, he found her crumpled on the floor, blood seeping from a wound too deep. Her breathing had been laboured, slow, her once-bright eyes now dimming. She had reached out to him, a final plea in the grasp of her fingers. "I... I’m sorry, Vander," she whispered, the words barely audible. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble.” “No, no, don’t,” he had begged, his hands shaking as he tried to stop the bleeding, but the life was already slipping from her, the glow in her eyes fading with each passing moment. “Y/N, please, stay with me...” But she didn’t.

The weight of it crushed him, and it was in this darkness that the door creaked open again, pulling him from his reverie. He turned to see the kids—Vi, her face drawn with a mixture of worry and confusion; Powder, her wide eyes too bright, teetering on the edge of something too big for her to fully understand; Mylo and Claggor, standing silent, their usual banter missing, the bravado that always accompanied their steps nowhere to be found.

Vander’s chest tightened at the sight of them. The reality of what had happened settled heavily over him. They needed to know, but the words felt too sharp, too final. He swallowed hard, fighting to push down the bile that threatened to rise.

Powder was the first to break the silence, her voice small, fragile. “She’s not coming back, is she?”

Vander’s heart lurched. The question echoed in his mind, louder than any scream or battle cry. His throat constricted, and for a moment, he couldn’t speak. The truth felt too much, too raw. He clenched his jaw, trying to keep the emotions buried beneath the weight of his grief.

“No,” he whispered, the word barely making it past his lips. “She’s not.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. The room seemed to close in on them, the truth hanging heavily in the air. None of the kids were old enough to fully grasp the depth of the loss, but they felt it, just the same.

Vi stepped forward, her usual strength faltering as her hand reached out to Vander. Her face was pale, the mask of composure slipping as the tears threatened to fall. “I’m sorry, Vander,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “We’ll keep fighting. For her. For you.”

Vander didn’t respond immediately. He wanted to say something—something that would make it better, make them believe that everything would be alright. But the words weren’t there. Instead, he just nodded silently, his eyes dark, his gaze fixed somewhere far beyond them.

His throat tightened, the lump growing, but he had to keep it together. He had to focus on them. On the kids. They needed him to be strong, to help them through this. He couldn’t let himself fall apart, not now. Not when they were looking to him.

His voice cracked as he spoke, but he kept it steady. “You’re right, Vi. We’ll fight. For Y/N. For all of us.”

The silence stretched, heavy and uncomfortable, but before anyone could speak again, Powder shuffled forward. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around Vander’s waist, pressing herself into him with all the desperation she didn’t know how to express. Her small form trembled against him, as though the weight of the world had descended on her fragile shoulders.

“We’ll make sure you don’t have to be alone,” she whispered, her voice trembling but firm. The words were simple, but they carried the promise of something more—a quiet declaration that they were still here, still together, despite everything.

Vander closed his eyes, fighting the tears that were now burning behind his eyelids. He had to hold it together. For them. His arms found Powder’s tiny frame, pulling her close, holding her as though he could somehow shield her from the pain. His hand brushed over her hair, his grip tightening as he whispered a broken, “Thank you.”

Then his hand moved to Vi’s, pulling her into the embrace as well. Mylo and Claggor followed suit, their usual swagger replaced by something quieter, more solemn. They all huddled together, a group of broken souls trying to find comfort in each other amidst the wreckage of their world.

Vander didn’t allow himself to break. Not now. His emotions, his grief—it was something he couldn’t afford to share. Not when they needed him. So, he kept it buried, hidden behind the walls he had spent years building. His chest tightened, his breath ragged, but he didn’t let it show. He just held them close, his focus entirely on comforting them.

The tears came, but they stayed inside, hidden beneath the surface as he clung to the kids, the ones who needed him to stay strong. The world could burn for all he cared. In this moment, it was just them. The broken pieces of their family, clinging together in the face of something too big to comprehend.

He didn’t know how long they stayed like that, tangled in their grief and shared silence, but eventually the sobs began to quiet. Vander didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. They would fight, they would carry on. For Y/N. For each other. He just held them, his heart breaking in ways he didn’t dare to acknowledge, his sadness locked deep inside, where it wouldn’t burden them.

And for them, he would keep fighting.

Vi x Reader knew each other when they were younger before everything went downhill with the incident with the explosion, and later they meet again as pit fighters in the arena. After the match, as they tend to the other's wounds, they catch up and over the time they spend together in and out of the arena, they eventually become a couple and move in together.

Fight Me

masterlist!

synopsis: my take on the above request, where instead of becoming a couple and moving in, they get heated (18+ but I’m a coward and can’t write smut)

pairings: vi x reader

The whispers in the underground fight scene were quiet, but the whispers were all saying the same thing: there’s two people to beat, and they’re fighting tonight. 

The Hound versus The Bandit. 

The air in the pit was thick with sweat, blood, and the anticipation of the fight to come. Bodies pressed against the rusted railings, eager to witness another brutal clash between two of the underground’s deadliest brawlers. The energy was electric, charged with the weight of bets, debts, and grudges waiting to be settled. 

You stood in your corner, rolling out the tension in your shoulders, feeling the familiar heat of the arena lights overhead. The rough wrappings around your knuckles were tight, already stained from past battles. You had fought in this pit before—won in it before, you could do it again. 

The Hound stood across the pit, flexing her fingers, rolling her neck. Even from this distance, you could see the glint of something dangerous in her eyes. 

She was watching you, sizing you up—not just as an opponent, but as something more. Something familiar. 

Your stomach twisted, but you shook it off. You had fought countless people in this pit. This was no different. 

The announcer’s voice cut through the tension like a knife. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, you know the names! You’ve heard the stories! But tonight, only one walks out victorious! Will it be the relentless force of nature—The Hound—or the cunning, untouchable legend—The Bandit?”

A roar of cheers and jeers rose from the crowd, coins clinking, fists pounding against the rusted railings. 

The Hound smirked, and she cracked her knuckles. “Didn’t think I’d see you here,” she called over the noise. 

Your chest tightened. Her voice—it had been years, but you could still hear the echoes of it from a life before this one. Before the explosion. Before everything fell apart. 

You steadied your breathing, meeting her gaze. “Didn’t think you’d recognize me, I’ve made myself pretty faceless down here.” 

She tilted her head, her slightly tipsy, cocky smirk never wavering. “Please. I’d recognize that stance anywhere.” 

The referee raised his hand. “Fighters ready?” 

You shifted your weight, planting your feet. 

Vi rolled her shoulders, dropping into a stance you remembered all too well. The referee’s hand dropped, the bell rang, and the fight began.

Vi came at you fast—faster than you remembered, faster than anyone else in these pits. You barely dodged the first blow, feeling the air shift as her fist grazed past your jaw. She was strong. Stronger than before. 

You countered with a quick jab, catching her just below the ribs, but she barely reacted. She just grinned. 

“Oh yeah,” she muttered, eyes flashing with something exciting, something exhilarating. “I missed this.” 

You missed this too—the fight was a blur of fists and instinct, muscle memory taking over where words had failed. Every blow exchanged was a conversation of its own—questions asked in the form of jabs, answers given in the crack of fists meeting flesh. 

Vi fought like she had something to prove. You fought like you had nothing left to lose. 

The crowd around you roared, but their voices faded into the background, drowned out by the rush of blood in your ears and the weight of Vi’s gaze locking onto yours with every strike. 

She was testing you. And fuck if it didn’t wet your entire body on fire. 

Your fist connected with her jaw, snapping her head to the side. She staggered but barely hesitated before retaliating, her knuckles slamming into your ribs, knocking the wind out of you. You gritted your teeth, biting back a groan as you stumbled. 

Vi, grinned through the sweat and the blood smeared at the corner of her lip, didn’t let up. “You’ve gotten better,” she said, breathless. 

You wiped a trickle of blood from your chin with the back of your hand. “So have you.” 

The fight didn’t last much longer after that. 

It wasn’t that one of you was leagues above the other—no, this was a match of equals. A battle between two people who knew each other’s tells, who had grown up mirroring each other’s movements before life had thrown them into opposite corners of the ring. 

But in the end, Vi took the win. 

She had you pinned, her weight pressing you into the cold ground, your wrists trapped in her grip. Your chest heaved beneath her hips, every breath labored, every inch of you aching. 

For a moment, neither of you moved. 

The crowd’s cheers rang hollow in your ears. 

Vi’s smirk softened just slightly as she hovered above you, her breathing ragged. “Still think you’re faceless?” she asked, voice low, teasing. 

You swallowed hard, feeling the warmth of her breath against your flushed skin. “Guess not.” 

The referee declared her victory, but Vi didn’t move—not right away. Not until her fingers briefly, almost hesitantly, squeezed yours before letting go. 

And just like that, the fight was over. 

————————————

You found her later in the back room, unwrapping the bloodied bandages from her hands. 

Vi barely glanced up as you entered, but the smirk was already on her lips. “Came to gloat?” 

You scoffed, stepping closer, the adrenaline from the fight still buzzing in your veins. “You won. Why would I gloat?” 

She hummed, flexing her fingers before wincing slightly. Without thinking, you grabbed the roll of fresh bandages from the table, stepping into her space. 

Vi raised an eyebrow but didn’t protest as you took her hand, carefully wrapping her knuckles. “Still good at this,” she murmured, watching you. 

You didn’t look up. “Did a lot of patching up over the years.”

Silence settled between you, thick with unspoken words. With memories of a time when fights weren’t for survival, when your fists weren’t used to hurt but to train, to prepare for a future that should have never come. 

Her fingers twitched under yours. “I looked for you,” she admitted suddenly. “After… everything.” 

Your hands stilled. 

You exhaled slowly. “I know.” 

Vi tilted her head, her eyes searching yours. “Then why didn’t you—?”

You cut her off before she could finish the thought. “I didn’t want to be found. I wasn’t the same.” 

Her jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought she might argue. But then, something shifted in her gaze—understanding, maybe. Or acceptance. 

You finished wrapping her hands, but before you could pull away, Vi caught your wrist. 

“Neither was I,” she murmured. 

The weight of her words settled deep in your chest, and then, before you could second-guess it, before the past could creep in and drag you both back down, you leaned in. 

Vi met you halfway. 

The moment her lips crashed into yours, it felt less like a reunion and more like a collision—messy, desperate, something inevitable finally set into motion. 

She pushed you back against the table, hands gripping at your waist, your fingers tangled in her damp hair. The tension from the fight, from the years lost between you, snapped like a frayed wire. 

Vi’s hands were rough, calloused from years of fighting, but they moved against your skin like she’d never forgotten the contours of your body. Her body was pressed tight against yours, heat rolling off her in waves, her breath mixing with yours in the small space between hurried, hungry kisses. 

You barely had time to breathe before she lifted you onto the table with ease, standing between your legs, her finger digging into your hips just enough to send a shiver through you. She kissed you like you were still fighting—teeth nipping at your lower lip, tongue tracing against yours in a way that made your head spin. 

Your hands explored familiar territory, fingers pressing into her back, tracing the muscle that had only grown stronger since you last knew her this way. your nails raked against her skin, and she groaned against your mouth, the sound sending heat pooling low in your stomach. 

Her lips trailed long your jaw, then lower, her teeth scraping the sensitive skin of your neck. You let your head fall back, a breathless laugh slipping out between gasps. “Still cocky,” you murmured. 

Vi laughed against your skin, her hands slipping beneath your shirt, fingertips brushing against your ribs, then your chest. “You like it,” she muttered, her voice rough, her lips pressing against your collarbone before he bit down, just hard enough to make your breath hitch. 

You did. You really, really did. 

Your fingers tangled in her hair, tugging her back up to meet your lips again, swallowing the growl she let out in response. The years apart, the pain, the battles fought with fists instead of words—it all burned away in the fire lit between your bodies. 

She pressed you further onto the table, the cool surface grounding you against the sheer blaze of her body. her hips rolled against yours, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips, The friction, the desperation, the way her body fit against yours like she was still made for you—it was too much, and not enough all at once.

“Vi—” her name left your lips in a breathless plea, “come on, fight me.” 

She grinned against your skin, her voice husky. “Yeah, I got you.” 

If you enjoyed this one shot, please check out my other series!

ambessa with wife reader who’s biggest opps are her parents… especially her mom.

♡♥︎Ambessa vs. Your Mother♥︎♡

♥︎ Ambessa knew from the moment you told her about your strained relationship with your parents that she wasn’t going to like them. She’s never been the type to tolerate people who hurt the ones she loves—least of all you.

♥︎ When she finally meets your mother, it takes everything in her not to let her displeasure show outright. Ambessa is a master of strategy, and if there’s one thing she won’t do, it’s let an opponent see her cards too soon.

♥︎ Your mother, on the other hand, takes one look at Ambessa and decides she’s too arrogant, too powerful, too intense. She doesn’t approve of your relationship (not that Ambessa cares), and she makes no effort to hide it.

♥︎ You can always tell when Ambessa’s resisting the urge to speak her mind. There’s a certain set to her jaw, a slight narrowing of her eyes when your mother makes a passive-aggressive comment about your life choices.

♥︎ “A woman of your status must be so busy. I’m sure it’s difficult to make time for a real marriage,” your mother muses over dinner, sipping her wine. You feel Ambessa’s hand tighten ever so slightly on the table before she smiles—sharp, dangerous. “I make time for what’s important. You must know how that feels, yes?”

♥︎ If your mother ever criticizes you—your decisions, your career, your existence—Ambessa is shutting that down immediately. “You will not speak to my wife like that,” she states, voice calm but final. And when Ambessa Medarda says something with finality, there is no arguing.

♥︎ She absolutely refers to your mother as her greatest enemy. Not in a dramatic, emotional way—just a simple, casual, “Ah, yes, my greatest opponent,” whenever she brings her up.

♥︎ The tension is palpable whenever they’re in the same room. You can practically feel the invisible battlefield between them, both standing their ground like generals before war.

♥︎ Ambessa refuses to let your mother manipulate you with guilt. If she ever notices you falling into old patterns—apologizing when you shouldn’t, doubting yourself—she steps in. “You owe her nothing.” The way she says it, firm and unwavering, makes it hard not to believe her.

♥︎ If your mother ever tries to criticize Ambessa to you, she will find out very quickly that you’re not interested in entertaining that conversation. “If you have a problem with my wife, take it up with her.” (Spoiler: she never does.)

♥︎ Ambessa, with all her power, influence, and sheer presence, is petty in the most elegant way. If your mother ever buys you a gift meant to be a subtle dig (like a book on “proper etiquette” or something equally condescending), Ambessa one-ups her by buying you something extravagant. “Ah, yes, an etiquette guide. Well, I got you a villa in Noxus. Use whichever you prefer.”

♥︎ The first time your mother really underestimates Ambessa, she tries to intimidate her. She speaks in that condescending, self-righteous tone, expecting to unnerve her. Ambessa simply leans back, watching her with a slow, knowing smirk, and says, “I have led armies. Do you think your words will move me?”

♥︎ Your mother despises that Ambessa calls you “my love” in public and in private, her voice dripping with possessive adoration. She especially hates that you always soften under Ambessa’s touch, no matter how tense your mother tries to make you.

♥︎ If your mother ever tries to push you into family obligations that you clearly don’t want to take part in, Ambessa has no problem stepping in. “She will not be attending.” And just like that, the decision is made.

♥︎ Ambessa is terrifyingly good at subtle power plays. Your mother will try to make a sharp remark, and Ambessa will respond with the most cuttingly polite reply, all while watching her like a predator studying prey.

♥︎ You know she’d go to war for you if it came down to it. One time, after an especially rough encounter with your mother, Ambessa muttered, “It is fortunate that I value your happiness more than my pride.” You knew, without a doubt, that she had been holding back.

♥︎ Ambessa does not believe in winning battles through screaming matches—no, no. Her victories are silent, effortless. When your mother scoffs that she’s “not what we expected for our daughter,” Ambessa simply replies, “No, I imagine you expected someone weaker.”

♥︎ The only reason Ambessa hasn’t officially declared war on your mother is because she respects that it’s your relationship to navigate. She knows you don’t need saving—but she is always there, standing beside you, ready if you ever call on her.

♥︎ Despite it all, Ambessa never forbids you from seeing your family. She knows it’s your choice. But she does make one thing clear: “If they hurt you, I will remind them why I am feared.”

♥︎ At the end of the day, when it’s just the two of you, away from the battlefield of family tension, she holds you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You are mine,” she murmurs against your skin, voice softer than it ever is with anyone else. “And that is all that matters.”

to the moving and the strange

arcane | silcovander | explicit, 4k, no revolution au canon divergence | fighter Vander, manager silco

written for @zaundads-week Day 4: Alternate Universe

Vander’s heart automatically skips a beat; he knows, he hopes Silco won’t allow him to reach it without a toll, and Vander is very ready to pay it. They both know this dance by now. Even after the cold shower, Vander leaves the fights always drunk on adrenaline, and since they started fucking he feels driven to him the minute he’s out. This is bound to be a disaster: they are supposed to be working together. Silco is the one that actually has the patience to know which fights to pick; before they started working together, Vander lived way worse. He should worry about that, about not losing him as a friend and as a manager for a good fuck.

He should; he doesn’t.

continues here on ao3

arcane characters x fem reader! in a fantasy au

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: yo, just had the BEST time writing this! felt like i was in my element, total geek vibes. i'm all about that fantasy stuff, and i think i nailed every character. maybe we’ll do more parts of this, but y’all gotta let me know if you’re down! as you already know request are open ;)

viktor as a cursed sorcerer!

The tower stands in the middle of nowhere, an ancient and somber structure, surrounded by an unsettling silence. The full moon bathes its gray stone in an ethereal light, as if the very sky itself fears coming too close. You know you shouldn’t be here, but the urge to uncover the secrets this fortress holds has led you to its doors. The mission is clear: steal a single object, a forbidden grimoire, and escape before the sorcerer notices.

Your footsteps echo against the walls of the tower as you venture into its dark corridors. Every corner is filled with ancient books, bubbling vials of mysterious liquids, and artifacts that seem to radiate an arcane energy beyond comprehension. The air, thick with magic, wraps around you like a second skin, making you feel both small and infinitely connected to something greater. A soft sigh escapes your lips, a shiver runs down your spine. The tower itself feels alive—breathing, watching.

At the highest point, in what seems to be a laboratory where the darkest secrets are woven, you find what you were searching for: an ancient grimoire, bound in black leather with golden symbols that faintly glow in the dim light. You take it with trembling hands, knowing that with it, your fate is sealed. But before you can take a single step toward the exit, the air grows heavy with dark energy, and the room’s light seems to fade.

A whisper, soft as a sigh, echoes through the chamber. A deep resonance that reaches the most hidden parts of your being. The sorcerer is near.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” The voice is deep, rasping, filled with an authority that makes your skin prickle. You cannot see his face, but the pressure in the air tells you he is watching you with an intensity that makes you feel utterly exposed.

You turn, and there he stands. His figure is outlined in the gloom like an eternal shadow, a being that seems to exist beyond death. His skin, pale as the moon, is almost translucent, and his golden eyes glow with an intensity that pierces through your soul. Viktor—the cursed sorcerer, the lich who has sacrificed his humanity in pursuit of a power that not even the gods can comprehend.

“What brings you to my domain, intruder?” His voice slithers toward you, a cold whisper that cuts through you like a dagger. “Do you not know that everything has a price? Curiosity, greed… and now, your soul.”

But you do not step back. You are not afraid, not even as you feel the dark magic coiling in the air, making it difficult to breathe. Instead of fleeing, you stand your ground, holding the grimoire in your hands as a silent declaration of your defiance. You know what he has done, what he is, and yet, something inside you tells you that perhaps this being, who has forsaken life itself, can teach you more than you ever imagined.

“I am a scholar,” you answer, your words firm despite the slight tremor in your voice. “I came to learn, not to steal.”

Viktor watches you in silence, his golden eyes gleaming with an eerie light. A flicker of interest crosses his gaze, and for a moment, he forgets his own power. There is something about you that intrigues him, something even he cannot explain. In that instant, the tension between you shifts, as if the universe itself had decided to intertwine your fates in a way neither of you can comprehend.

“To learn?” The word leaves his lips with a mocking edge. “What do you think you can learn from a being like me? A mere mortal who is not even fortunate enough to still be among the living?”

His words strike your chest like a blow, but you do not falter. Instead, you step closer to him, meeting his gaze with unwavering resolve.

“Perhaps I will learn what lies beneath your power,” you say, surprising even yourself with the strength in your voice. “Perhaps what you have sacrificed… was not what you thought.”

The sorcerer seems frozen in time, his glowing eyes flickering with something that is neither anger nor disdain, but something far more dangerous… desire? For a brief second, the hollow space within his chest seems to pulse—a heartbeat long forgotten, one that calls to you like a leaf caught in a current.

“Do you know what it means to renounce your humanity?” Viktor’s voice is softer now, almost vulnerable. “Do you know what it is to exist like this? Without a soul, without emotion, without love… all for power.”

His words resonate within you. You know he has paid a price, but at the same time, something in his eyes tells you that not all is lost—that somewhere, deep within him, something still lingers.

“No,” you whisper. “But I do know what it is to lose oneself. And I know that what we have lost does not have to define us. Perhaps there is still something you can reclaim.”

Viktor remains silent, and for a moment, the dark magic around him dims, as if, just for a second, he wants to believe in your words. The connection between you is intangible, like a breeze that travels the space between two lonely souls, each trapped in their own prison.

You take another step closer, your fingers grazing the surface of the grimoire you still clutch. Viktor watches every movement, and for the first time, you see something in his eyes—something that is not malice, but a profound sadness, a distant longing.

“And if I let you go,” he says quietly, his words laced with bittersweet tenderness, “what will you do with your life, scholar? Will you continue seeking what others have forgotten, or…?”

“I don’t know,” you answer, almost in a whisper, but there is something in your voice that speaks louder than any words. “But if you let me go, I will find a purpose. I always do. And maybe… you can, too.”

The magic in the tower seems to shift, as if a door has opened—not to a future you fear, but to one you might walk together. Despite his curse, despite his nature, Viktor feels as though he has found something in you that makes him question his fate. And you, in that same moment, realize that you have not only found what you came for, but something far more important: someone who, though cursed, is still capable of love.

You both know it is dangerous. You both know that the dark magic surrounding him could consume everything. But there is something else, something beyond death itself. Something only the two of you can understand.

The silence between you is thick, charged with the electricity of the forbidden. Viktor watches you as if you are an impossible riddle, as if your mere presence in his tower threatens to unravel centuries of solitude and absolute knowledge. For years—decades—he has mastered dark magic, crossed the limits of life and death, but he never anticipated this. He never imagined that a mere human could disrupt his world with nothing but words.

“You are strange, scholar.” His voice is a murmur, a confession carried by the spectral wind that haunts the tower. “You are not like the others. You do not tremble before my power, nor flee from what I am.”

You take another step closer, your fingers brushing the cold marble of the table between you, the grimoire still in your hands.

“Perhaps it’s because I see beyond what you are now.” Your voice is soft yet firm. “I see what you were. What you could be.”

Viktor lets out a low, bitter laugh.

“A condemned man. A soul that ceased to exist the moment I sealed my fate.”

You take a breath and dare to look directly into his eyes—those golden depths glowing with an unnatural light. Despite his curse, there is something human in them, a distant echo of the man he once was.

“I don’t believe you ever ceased to exist.” You clutch the grimoire to your chest. “If you had, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

His expression hardens—not with anger, but with something far more dangerous. Vulnerability.

The magic in the tower hums, expectant. And then, Viktor speaks.

“Very well,” he murmurs. “You may stay.”

But as he looks at you, his gaze burning into your soul, he gives you one final warning.

“Knowledge comes at a price. And in my world… love is the greatest curse of all.”

And yet, you do not turn back.

Because even in the deepest darkness, love still lingers.

Even if it means being damned along with him.

And so, in the shadows of the forbidden tower, begins the story that was never meant to be told.

jinx as a banshee!

The mist clings to the ground like a shroud, wrapping the cursed village in an icy embrace. The air is saturated with whispers, spectral laments that slip between the abandoned houses, carried by the nocturnal wind.

And then, the laughter echoes.

A sharp, mocking sound, distorted by death itself.

Your skin prickles, but not from fear. The first time you heard it, you thought it was a bad omen. That the villagers were right to warn you about the banshee that roamed the town, announcing death with her song. But over time, you began to seek that sound, to long for the moment when her voice would tear through the stillness. Because behind that ghostly echo, there was something more. Something that called to you.

And tonight, she has come for you.

The air turns frigid in an instant, and when you blink, Jinx is there. Suspended in the air, as if the wind itself cradled her in its arms. Her skin is pale as alabaster, her blue hair floating around her like ethereal flames. Her eyes glow with an otherworldly light, but what captivates you most is her smile—tilted, playful, with a touch of madness and melancholy woven together.

"Found you." Her voice is a seductive murmur, gliding through the air like a thread of silver.

You don’t scream. You don’t run. You only watch her, fascinated.

She tilts her head, circling you slowly, as if evaluating a new toy. "You know, most people scream when they see me." Her icy fingers brush against your cheek, sending a shiver through you, but you don’t pull away. Jinx narrows her eyes, amused. "But you don’t. Why?"

Because you don’t fear her. Because death has never scared you. Because, somehow, she doesn’t feel like a harbinger of doom, but like a mystery you want to unravel.

"Because you don’t seem as terrifying as they say."

Jinx’s laughter vibrates in the air, a melody both inhuman and enchanting, twisting between the real and the spectral. "Oh, sweetheart… that’s a mistake."

Suddenly, the world shifts.

The village distorts, buildings contorting, shadows coming to life. You’re somewhere else now—a realm between life and death, where colors are too vivid, where the ground beneath your feet feels unreal. Spirits drift around you, translucent figures who weep and laugh, trapped in an endless cycle.

Jinx watches you with delight. "Welcome to my world."

Your breath catches. You don’t know if it’s terror or wonder that fills you, but Jinx steps closer, her cold hands holding you with an unsettling gentleness. "Aren’t you scared?" she whispers, her lips inches from yours, her laughter dancing in the air.

You don’t answer. Because the truth is, you are. But not in the way you should be.

You’re afraid you won’t be able to walk away from her.

You’re afraid you won’t want to.

Jinx smiles, as if she can read your thoughts. "Oh, this is going to be fun."

The ground beneath your feet feels unsteady, as if you’re walking on the breath of a dream that could vanish at any moment. You’re in Jinx’s world now, a dimension suspended between life and death, where the lights flicker like ghostly fireflies and the sky is an endless stretch of shadows entwined with blue glimmers.

The banshee moves with eerie lightness, her feet barely touching the ground as she twirls, radiating the capricious joy of someone who has long forgotten what it means to be human. Her laughter rings through the air, a melody that dances between beauty and terror.

"So, little adventurer," she murmurs, watching you with those eyes that burn like blue fire, "what’s your story?"

Her voice reverberates through the corners of this spectral realm, as if each word leaves a scar in the air itself.

"My story..." you repeat, trying to grasp onto something tangible while your mind struggles to understand where you truly are. "I don’t know. I don’t think it matters here."

Jinx stops. Her expression softens for a moment, as if she’s found something unexpected in your answer. "Exactly," she whispers, almost like a secret shared between you. "Here, nothing matters. Not time, not names, not even memories."

She extends a hand, and without thinking, you take it. Her touch is frigid, as if death itself dances on her skin. But her grip is firm, so real that you can almost convince yourself you still belong to the world of the living.

"Come, I want to show you something."

You follow. Not because you trust her, but because the pull of her presence is impossible to resist.

She leads you through a forest of barren trees, their branches twisting in the air like skeletal fingers. Tiny lights float between them—souls trapped in the border between worlds. Some whisper in barely audible sobs, others laugh with a hysteria that chills the blood. Jinx ignores them.

Finally, you reach a clearing where an ancient fountain stands at the center. Its water is not water, but a swirling mist of silver that churns endlessly. Jinx lets go of your hand and sits at the fountain’s edge, swinging her legs with the careless joy of a mischievous child.

"This is my favorite spot," she says. "It’s where I can hear the voices of those about to die."

Your stomach tightens. "You hear them?"

She nods, and for the first time, the laughter fades from her face. There’s something melancholic in her expression, a weight you hadn’t noticed before. "Always. Every time someone is about to cross over, their last words drift here. Sometimes they’re broken promises. Sometimes regrets. Other times..." She pauses, staring at the mist with a sorrow that surprises you. "Other times, they’re just a sigh."

The silence between you is heavy.

You kneel beside her, feeling the cold radiating from the fountain. "It must be exhausting to hear that all the time."

Jinx looks at you, and for the first time, there’s no mockery in her eyes. Only something that resembles vulnerability.

"No one ever says that."

Your heart pounds harder. You don’t know if it’s from fear or from the strange tenderness you’ve just discovered in the creature before you.

Jinx leans closer, her smile returning, though softer this time. "You know, I like you," she murmurs, her fingers brushing your wrist with the delicate touch of a breath of wind. "Maybe I’ll let you stay a little longer."

You don’t know if that’s a reward or a curse. But when she intertwines her fingers with yours and the world around you seems to grow more vibrant, you realize you’re already trapped.

Not in her world.

In her.

vi as a werewolf!

The moon hangs in the sky like a watchful eye, spilling its pale light over the forest. Mist swirls between the tall, gnarled trunks, filling the air with the scent of damp earth and the whisper of rustling leaves.

You shouldn’t be here.

The stories about this forest are not mere superstitions; every villager who has crossed the border of these trees has vanished without a trace.

But fate, cruel and capricious, has drawn a different path for you.

A howl tears through the night before scarlet eyes emerge from the undergrowth. There are many of them. Shadows within shadows, stalking with a silent ferocity that makes your skin prickle. Your heart hammers in your chest as a deep growl rises to your right, and before you can even think of running, something strikes you.

The world tilts, and you fall onto the cold grass. An overwhelming weight pins you down, and when you look up, you meet a pair of impossibly pink eyes glowing in the darkness.

Her face is mere inches from yours, her breath warm against your skin, but what truly sends a shiver down your spine is the intensity in her gaze. It’s not just the fierceness of a hunter—it’s something deeper, something primal. Something that doesn’t understand why she hasn’t killed you yet.

“Who are you?” Her voice is a low growl, threatening.

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to find your voice. “Just… a traveler.”

Vi narrows her eyes, her fingers pressing your wrists harder against the ground. Her grip is firm, but not crushing. There is control in her strength, yet also a subtle tremor, as if she’s holding back.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“I know.”

The pack moves around her, wolves with dark fur and glowing eyes watching the scene with anticipation. Vi is their leader, and they await her decision. But she remains still, looming over you, her breath heavy, her chest rising and falling in an unsteady rhythm.

Finally, after a long, tense silence, she jumps back.

“Lock her up.”

The wooden cage is stronger than it looks, reinforced with claws and teeth of creatures that once dared to challenge the pack. Hours pass slowly, and the feeling of being watched never fades. Vi hasn’t returned since you were thrown in here, but her presence lingers in the air like a storm waiting to break.

When she finally appears, the moon is high in the sky. She no longer carries the form of the beast, yet you can still see it in the way she moves, in the way her eyes never blink as she watches you.

“I should have killed you,” she says bluntly.

“Why didn’t you?”

Vi remains silent. Then, with calculated slowness, she steps closer to the cage, wrapping her fingers around the bars. You can see the tension in her hands, the muscles in her arms tightening with restrained strength.

“I don’t know,” she finally admits.

She doesn’t know, but you do. You saw it in her eyes, in the way her wolf fought against its instinct to tear out your throat. There is something holding her back. Something she doesn’t want to name.

Fate.

The word hangs in the air, unspoken yet ever-present.

She feels it, just as you do.

You know what it means to werewolves. An unbreakable bond. A tie forged by the moon itself. If what Vi feels is real, then she is trapped in an impossible dilemma.

Kill you. Or claim you.

The thought sends a shiver down your spine. And yet, a part of you wonders… what would you choose?

And the next full moon will decide the rest.

caitlyn as a vampire!

The night in the Ravencourt mountains was an icy whisper among the dead trees. The castle loomed over the mist like a stone sepulcher, its gothic towers cutting against the pale moon. The stories spoke of a monster dwelling within—a creature with sharp fangs and eyes that gleamed like sapphires in the gloom.

And you had come to kill her.

Your footsteps echoed through the silent halls, the shadows stretching like spectral fingers as your hand clutched the hilt of your silver dagger. The air smelled of melted wax and aged wine, but beneath it… blood.

You were not alone.

"How disappointing," the voice reached you before the figure did. "I was expecting something more… imposing."

You spun in an instant, your dagger poised to strike. But Caitlyn didn’t move. She was leaning against the stone wall with the elegance of someone who had centuries to perfect arrogance. Her eyes gleamed in the dim light—cold, calculating, yet laced with amusement.

"A monster hunter, sent to kill me. How ironic."

"You’re no different from the other vampires I’ve slain," you spat.

Caitlyn smiled, her fangs glinting under the moonlight filtering through the stained glass windows. "Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong."

In a blink, she was no longer against the wall. She moved faster than you could react, and suddenly, your back collided with a marble pillar. Her face was mere inches from yours, her breath as cold as the night wind.

"If I were like them," she murmured, her fingers grazing the line of your jaw, "you’d already be dead."

Your heart pounded against your ribs.

"Don’t play with me," you warned, trying to ignore the shiver running down your spine.

Caitlyn tilted her head, her lips dangerously close to your neck. She didn’t press down, didn’t bite. She merely let the moment stretch, let the tension weave between you like an invisible thread.

"Play?" she whispered. "Darling, if I were playing… you would have already lost."

Her voice was like dark silk, like the caress of the night itself.

And the worst part… was that she was right.

She didn’t kill you that night.

Instead, she let you go, with a challenge on her lips and a promise in her gaze. You returned to the castle, night after night, searching for reasons to hate her, to convince yourself that she was no different from the monsters you had hunted before.

But every time she found you in the shadows, every time she saved you from something worse than her, every time her smile curled with that exquisite taunt… the certainty inside you crumbled a little more.

Caitlyn played with limits, with the space between desire and danger, between the hunt and surrender.

And you didn’t know how much longer you could resist.

jayce as an elf prince!

The Kingdom of Eldareth was a dream carved in light and sculpted in gold. Its crystal towers rose toward the sky, capturing the sun’s rays in an ethereal glow. The forests whispered with ancient magic, and the rivers sang songs only the elves could understand. Here, everything seemed unchanging, eternal. Here, the ephemeral had no place.

That was why, when you set foot in the court of the crown prince, you immediately felt the weight of the gazes upon you. A human in the heart of the elven kingdom. A foreigner in a land where perfection was the norm.

And no gaze was more intense than that of Jayce Talandriel, the golden prince.

From the moment you were introduced as his escort, he regarded you with a mixture of disdain and curiosity.

"A human protecting me?" His tone was a blade wrapped in velvet. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"If it is, Your Highness," you replied with a mocking bow, "I hope you find it amusing."

The court held its breath. Jayce raised an eyebrow.

From that day on, your relationship became a battle of wills.

He tested your patience with comments about "human clumsiness." You proved to him, with every training session, that you could disarm him in seconds. You argued daily, clashed like summer storms, and yet…

When he thought you weren’t looking, his eyes followed you.

When night fell and the kingdom was draped in its mantle of stars, he took you to places where magic flowed purest. He showed you trees whose leaves glowed like fireflies, rivers where creatures of light swam, ruins where time stood still.

"I’ve never brought anyone here before," he murmured once, leaning against an ancient silver-barked oak.

"Not even some noble elf you’re destined to marry?" you asked with a teasing smile.

He let out a soft laugh but didn’t deny it. His world already had a predetermined path. And you were not part of it.

But then, one night, as the moon bathed the fields in a melancholic blue, you felt his hand on yours. A light touch, barely a graze, as if the difference between you could crumble with a single gesture.

"If things were different…" he began, but let the sentence drift into the wind.

Because things were not different.

You were a human warrior, born to fight and move on.

He was an elven prince, born to stay and rule.

But for a fleeting second, as his breath brushed against your lips and the world seemed to hold its breath… none of that mattered.

You could feel the magic in the air, vibrating between you. The same magic that flowed through his veins, the same magic that separated his world from yours. You weren’t blind to reality. You knew that an elf like Jayce had his destiny set from the moment he was born, his ties to the royal family bound by ancient pacts that ensured the kingdom’s balance.

And yet, you did not step back.

"You are the crown prince," you said softly, the whisper of leaves carrying your words. "And I am just a passing human. What’s the point of imagining things could be different?"

Jayce clenched his jaw, as if the truth tasted bitter. "You are more than that."

The echo of his confession lingered between you. And for the first time, after all the arguments, all the clashes, all the defiant glances… you didn’t know what to say.

ekko as a wayward fairy!

The forest had no end.

Each tree seemed to reflect upon the next, as if the whole world repeated itself in an endless cycle. The shadows stretched and shrank with every step, and the whisper of the wind carried laughter. Childish, mocking laughter that bounced between the leaves like tiny bells shaken by invisible fingers.

You stopped, your breath caught in your chest, feeling the weight of magic pressing against your skin. You were not alone.

“Well, well… what do we have here?”

His voice was a playful murmur, barely a caress in the air. Then, a presence appeared above you: a young man with bright eyes and translucent wings that reflected the moonlight in shades of gold and emerald. He was floating upside down, elbows resting on the air as if it were his own throne.

“Let me guess,” he said with a crooked smile. “You’re lost.”

You didn’t answer immediately. It was hard to tell if he was real or just another illusion of the forest.

Ekko snapped his fingers, and suddenly, the moon multiplied in the sky. Five, ten moons twinkled above you, each spinning in opposite directions. You blinked, stunned, and when you looked again, reality had returned to normal.

“Well, well, seems like you're more resilient than I thought.”

He landed softly in front of you, tilting his head in curiosity. Though his expression was mischievous, his eyes held a glimmer that wasn’t entirely joyful.

“Listen, little human,” he began, circling around you. “This forest is no place for your kind. Time here is… fickle. A day, a decade, a whole lifetime… who’s to say how long you’ve been wandering?”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“I’m looking for the way out.”

Ekko smirked. “Of course you are. Everyone does.”

He stopped in front of you, and for a moment, his gaze seemed to darken. But then, his smile returned, and a spark flashed in his eyes as he took a step back.

“I’ll make you an offer, human,” he said, spreading his arms. “Let’s play a game.”

The word floated between you, light yet charged with meaning.

“A game…?”

“A game,” he repeated, spinning in the air with the ease of someone unbound by time. “Follow my lead, do as I do. If you catch up to me, I’ll guide you out of the forest. If you don’t…” His smile widened, revealing sharp teeth. “Then you’ll be mine.”

A shiver ran down your spine.

“Mine forever.”

The night breeze whistled through the trees, carrying his last words like an echo.

You knew you had no other choice.

“Alright,” you said, lifting your chin. “I accept.”

Ekko snapped his fingers, and the forest came alive.

The game began with a chase.

Ekko weaved through the shadows, vanishing and reappearing between the trunks as if time itself bent to his will. Roots tried to snare you, bushes turned into walls, and the fairy’s laughter filled the air, mocking your every stumble.

“Is that all?” his voice echoed behind you, yet when you turned, he was already gone.

You ran faster. You leaped over a stream that hadn’t been there a second before, dodged branches that seemed to move on their own. Your breath burned in your lungs, but you refused to give up.

Then, without warning, Ekko stopped in front of you.

You crashed into his chest.

He didn’t move. His hands closed around your arms with an unexpected gentleness, keeping you from falling.

“You’ve got guts, human.”

His voice wasn’t just teasing anymore.

The forest lights flickered. In that instant, with his dark eyes locked onto yours at such a close distance, you saw past the mask of mischief.

Something inside him was broken.

“Why do you live here alone?” you asked, your voice still unsteady from the chase.

Ekko didn’t answer right away.

For the first time since you met him, his smile faded completely.

But then, with a flicker of magic, he disappeared once more, his laughter scattering into the air like the wind of an endless night.

The game was not over yet.

Ekko’s laughter still lingered in the air, playful and ethereal, as if the forest itself fed on his mischief. “Are you still looking for a way out?” his voice resonated through the mist, wrapping around you like a whisper in the dark.

The feeling of being lost became more and more tangible, as if time itself were dancing around you. You walked blindly, heart racing, mind clouded. The forest shifted with every step, every direction you took leading you somewhere new without any logical order. It was as if the world you knew was unraveling around you, a dream beyond your control.

Suddenly, the mist began to clear, revealing a glade illuminated by thousands of golden fireflies. The air was thick with the sweet, strange scent of night-blooming flowers, and in the center of the clearing, Ekko was waiting, seated with an amused smile on his face. His eyes glowed with a spark of mischief, and his presence felt like a beacon in the darkness of the enchanted forest.

“You took your time, human,” he said, his tone relaxed but with a hint of challenge. “I thought you wouldn’t be able to keep up with my games.”

You stepped closer, trying to keep your composure, but you couldn’t stop your gaze from lingering on him, trapped by a strange fascination. “I thought you only liked playing. I didn’t know you actually wanted me to win.”

Ekko stood up slowly, his luminous figure like a dancing shadow among the fireflies. He moved toward you, and for a moment, his laughter faded, leaving behind a heavy silence. “What I want isn’t always what it seems,” he said, his voice softer, more serious. “And what seems like a game can have greater consequences than you imagine.”

The air around him thickened, growing heavier with each second. Something in his expression had shifted, shedding the carefree amusement to reveal a hint of sadness. It seemed that Ekko, the mischievous fairy, carried something inside him—something darker and more sorrowful than his playful facade.

“What’s wrong, Ekko?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, realizing that all this time, he hadn’t just tested you with his magic and illusions—he had shown you a part of himself no one else had seen. “What are you hiding?”

A sigh escaped his lips, and for a moment, his expression softened. “Time isn’t just a game to me, human. It’s a cycle that never ends, a prison that drags me along without mercy. I’ve been trapped here in this forest longer than you can imagine, but in you… I see something different. Something that might change everything.”

Suddenly, everything made sense. The forest, the time, the illusions… everything was designed to keep him captive. And you, caught in his game, had become something more than just a challenge. Without knowing it, you had become the key that might free Ekko from his eternal torment.

“If I stay here, what will happen?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. Would you become just another part of his cruel curse? Or perhaps… could you be his only way out?

Ekko stared at you, his eyes filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite decipher. “If you stay, you’ll lose your way. But maybe, just maybe, you’ll find it in me.”

Seconds stretched like hours. You knew that if you took this path, everything would change. But as you looked at him—so vulnerable, yet so full of magic—you felt something inside your heart begin to waver.

“And if I accept your challenge?” you said, a hint of a smile forming. “What happens if I stay?”

“Then, you’ll be mine,” Ekko replied, his voice as soft as a spell already cast. But in his eyes, there was something more—something that spoke of hope, not just possession.

The wind whispered through the trees, carrying the feeling that time no longer mattered.

And so, in the magic of the forest and the echo of his laughter, the two of you became something more than lost souls—something fleeting, yet eternal.

silco as a demon!

A red glow began to fill the room, as if the very air was burning. You had made a mistake—one you could not take back. The summoning had been a desperate attempt, a last resort to obtain something you couldn’t get by any other means. But now, before you, stood him.

The air grew dense, heavy, as if the darkness itself was swallowing the light around you. Silco emerged from the shadows, his presence so powerful that the ground beneath your feet seemed to tremble. A demon, yes—but not just any demon. He was temptation incarnate, a master in the art of making people surrender to their darkest desires.

His voice was low, deep, like a whisper that seemed to speak directly into your mind, filling you with thoughts you weren’t sure were yours or his.

"What is it that you desire, human?" His tone was a mix of curiosity and something far more dangerous. "Because you already know—I offer nothing without expecting something in return."

You tried to keep your composure, though your heart was racing. Every instinct within you screamed to run, to forget this and leave. But an inexplicable force kept you rooted to the spot, trapped by the way his eyes—dark as the night itself—bored into you, piercing through every layer of your being. His gaze was intense, relentless, as if he could see straight into your soul.

"I offer you what you crave the most," he said, stepping toward you with slow, deliberate movements, like a predator closing in on its prey. "The opportunity for more power, more wealth, more… everything you could ever imagine. But—there is a price. There is always a price."

The temptation in his words was undeniable, and you knew you were about to make a choice that would change everything. Silco—the demon who trades in souls—was offering you something only he could grant. The promise of everything you desired, but at what cost? Your soul? Your freedom? Or something far more sinister?

"What I want…" your words were barely a whisper, trembling beneath the weight of his gaze. "What I want is… time."

A slow, wicked smile curled on his lips—one devoid of kindness. "Time… A very rare gift. And one that I can give you." He took another step forward, and at once, you felt the heat radiating from him. "But like any gift, it comes at a price."

He was too close now, and your breath hitched. The temperature in the room had risen noticeably, the air around you burning with an almost tangible intensity. Silco was a man of few words, but the ones he spoke were like spells—deeply seductive, impossible to ignore.

His face was inches from yours now, his breath warm against your skin, his presence wrapping around you like a shadow from which there was no escape.

"Accept my offer, and you shall have what you desire. But I know you won’t do so without hesitation, without doubt…"

The tension between you was palpable, electric, and something inside you was beginning to waver. Part of you wanted to flee, to escape whatever was happening—but another, much stronger part, wanted to know just how far this dangerous seduction could go. The power, the risk, the thrill—it was a game, one you were already ensnared in.

Silco, as if reading your thoughts, smirked again. His face drew even closer, his eyes gleaming with a dark promise.

"All I require, dear one, is that you surrender to me. Not now, not all at once—but little by little, with every encounter. And when the time comes, there will be no turning back."

The pulse in your veins pounded wildly, and a realization dawned upon you—whether you said no or not, you were already caught in his web. Every word, every glance, every movement was designed to erode your resistance. You had been invaded, ensnared by something far greater than yourself, and you knew that nothing would be the same after this moment.

"And if I refuse to surrender so easily?" you asked, challenging the imminent danger looming over you. But his low, dangerous laughter was answer enough.

"You’ll know when the time comes, human. There is no resisting what I offer. Because I am not just a demon… I am the only one who can give you everything you desire."

The pressure in your chest became unbearable, the air itself suffocating. The seduction in his words was too strong to ignore. You could feel the desire, the temptation surrounding you, wrapping you in an inescapable darkness.

Silco leaned in, his face mere inches from yours, his breath ghosting over your lips. His voice was a whisper in your ear.

"I am giving you an opportunity, human. A chance to claim what you want most. But be warned…"

"Because you won’t always know when you’ll give in. You won’t always know when you’ll be mine."

And in that precise moment, you knew—the fate awaiting you was inevitable. Dark, consuming, and utterly irresistible.

mel as a mermaid!

The storm had lashed the sea with fury, leaving in its wake a chaos of raging waves and skies riddled with lightning. The shipwreck had been inevitable, and when the waters finally calmed, the darkness that preceded the stillness seemed denser, deeper. The last thing you remembered was the sensation of sinking, the water filling your lungs, and then… nothingness.

You awoke, enveloped in a gentle current, but instead of the roaring sea and the deadly cold of the waters, the temperature was warm, embracing. Opening your eyes, you found yourself underwater, floating like a specter in an expanse of blues and greens. It was not the darkness you knew, but a golden light that seemed to come from everywhere. At first, you thought you were trapped in a dream, or perhaps death had taken you beyond, but the air, the softness of the current… no, it was not a dream.

The sight before you was like a mirage—an underwater palace, its columns and ceilings carved from iridescent coral, surrounded by floating gardens of plants you had never seen before, vibrant in color, moving as if they were alive. But what truly captured your attention was the figure approaching with impossible grace.

A mermaid.

Her tail was a golden gleam, reflecting the light from the ocean floor with a brilliance that dazzled, and every movement was a seamless dance, as if the water was her natural element, her home, her domain. The upper half of her body was slender and harmonious, her skin smooth as pearl, with a sun-kissed hue that seemed to glow with its own inner light, as if the ocean’s sun touched her eternally. She had the face of a goddess, a beauty so perfect that it made everything else around her seem dull. Her hair cascaded in soft waves down to the middle of her back, a golden tone that merged with the sea as if it were a reflection of the ocean itself.

Her gaze was intense, profound, and when her eyes met yours, you felt yourself drowning in them. They were a striking green, like the purest ocean water, and within them was a gleam that you could only describe as… ancient. She knew things you could never comprehend. She knew secrets the sea had kept for millennia.

The mermaid approached slowly, her movements as fluid as the waves. She observed you with a mix of curiosity and something more—something you couldn’t define.

“Well, what do we have here?” Her voice was like music, soft and enchanting, a melody that made your heart race, as if each word was woven with magic. “A lost sailor, come from the surface.”

Before you could respond, she smiled. The smile of a creature who knew her power and understood there was no escape. With a single movement of her hand, the water around you seemed to freeze, to halt, as if it obeyed her will.

“Why should I let you go when the sea has already claimed you?” Her voice was a whisper, and at the same time, a command. “What sense is there in resisting when everything here, in the depths, is more beautiful and more eternal than anything you’ve ever known on the surface?”

Her presence was overwhelming, her closeness making everything more intense. Your body trembled, not from fear, but from an irresistible fascination. You could feel her power in the water surrounding you, as if she were the sea itself, and you were just a small vessel about to be dragged by the current.

“Why not stay with me?” Her voice grew even softer, sweeter, as if she were whispering directly into your soul. “There’s so much I can show you… so much the sea has kept hidden for centuries. Everything you desire, everything you could ever become… I can give it to you. You only have to trust me.”

You felt trapped, but not in the way you had expected. There was something so intoxicating about her, about her presence, that it was difficult to think clearly. There was something dangerous in the way her words caressed your skin, something that drew you in, that seduced you, something that made you want to stay—even though you knew you couldn’t.

And then, her gaze turned more playful, a spark of mischief crossing her eyes.

“But it’s never that easy, is it?” she mused. “The surface calls to you, doesn’t it? Humans are always so stubborn. They think they can escape… but the sea always claims what is hers.”

You felt yourself lose balance, and before you could think of anything else, her golden tail moved with a speed you could barely follow, trapping you in a swirling vortex of water that surrounded you like a liquid prison. She was close—too close—her face now near enough that you could feel her breath, warm and damp.

“Come now, don’t resist…” she murmured, her voice a lullaby, a spell. “Let me show you the world I’ve kept just for you.”

Her words were more than an invitation; they were an enchantment, a promise that made you shiver, that overflowed your thoughts and your will.

You felt lost—but in a strange way, as if by losing yourself in her, you could finally find yourself.

But you knew that the surface, the life you had left behind, was still calling to you. Could you resist the beauty of the ocean, the seduction of Mel, the princess of the depths? Or would you become just another soul ensnared by her spell, trapped in her world, with no hope of return?

The question echoed in your mind, but you already knew that, no matter your decision, you would not be the same person when you emerged from the depths of her kingdom.

sevika as a gargoyle!

The forgotten city seemed like a whisper from another time, a relic that had survived the erosion of the centuries. Among its ruins stood an ancient temple, its stones carved with symbols that no one remembered anymore, its columns covered in moss, and its structure corroded by the passage of wind and rain. It was a place that people had stopped visiting long ago, yet here you were, as if fate had guided you to its heart. No one came to this site anymore, but in your search for ancient secrets, you had gone too far.

The air was heavy, dense, as if the city itself were guarding a secret, waiting to be discovered. You moved cautiously, the echoes of your steps resonating against the shadow-covered walls. The darkness inside the temple was complete, except for the faint light filtering through the cracks in the ceiling, creating dancing shadows on the gargoyle statues that adorned the columns. They were imposing figures, carved with an unsettling perfection, their wings spread and their faces fixed in an eternal watch.

You approached one of them, drawn by its magnetic presence. The sculpture was larger than the others, a female figure, her body carved with strong, angular lines, as if the sculpture itself were the manifestation of an ancient war. Her eyes, though empty and lifeless, seemed to watch you. On her face reflected a contained fury, and something in her gave you the feeling that she was not just a statue.

An irresistible impulse led you to come closer and extend your hand, touching the cold surface of the stone. The sensation of the texture under your fingers was rough, as if centuries of dust and time had accumulated on it. And it was at that moment when everything changed. A shiver ran through your body, a vibration of energy that seemed to come directly from the very bowels of the earth. Suddenly, a deep sound, a cracking like stone crumbling, made you recoil. The wings of the gargoyle, once rigid, fluttered slightly, and the temple resonated with a low, almost ancestral echo.

Before you could process it, the figure began to move. The gargoyle that had once been a statue woke up. Its form rose, and the tremor of the stone gave way to a body in motion, an imposing figure that looked at you with an intensity that made you feel minuscule in its presence. A growl, low and guttural, emanated from its throat, a mixture of contained anger and desperation.

And then, it saw how you had frozen in fear.

The gargoyle said nothing. It stepped forward with heavy steps, its stone claws scraping the floor as its golden eyes, as bright as fire, locked onto yours. Its figure was massive, almost indomitable, and while it still retained the form of the statue, it now moved with a dark grace that belied its weight. Every movement was filled with controlled violence, and the fury of its presence filled the air, crushing you mercilessly.

But when its eyes met yours, something changed. A glimmer of something more human shone in its gaze, a fraction of doubt, as if, in some forgotten corner of its soul, there still existed a spark of humanity.

"What have you done... human?" Its voice was deep, full of a resonance that seemed to come from the very depths of the earth, a voice so profound it made the ground tremble.

You tried to step back, but you had become trapped in a corner, with no way out. The gargoyle, or what had been a gargoyle, moved closer, its presence enveloping you. There was something hypnotic about the way it looked at you, something that told you that you were not the first to be ensnared by its gaze.

"You are nothing more than an intruder in a place you do not understand," it said, its voice softening slightly, as if evaluating you. "You have awakened something that should not have been awakened. Now, you belong to me."

Fear ran through you, but there was something else too. A strange fascination. Something in the way it moved, in the brutality it seemed to embody, awakened a primal response in you. And even though you told yourself you needed to escape, you couldn't stop watching the figure in front of you, its sculpted body, its latent power.

For a moment, you couldn’t say anything. Fear, though strong, faded away, and what remained was an unusual desire to understand it, to comprehend who this creature really was, trapped between two worlds. In its eyes was something more than fury, something more than hate. It seemed that beneath the rock, under the weight of the stone, a heart still beat.

"Who are you?" Finally, you managed to ask, your voice trembling, but determined. "Why are you here?"

The gargoyle stopped in front of you, looking at you for what seemed like an eternity. The hardness of its stone face softened, if only slightly. "I... was not always stone," it confessed, its voice now less harsh, but filled with palpable pain. "I was not always what you see now. A long time ago, I was human like you."

Its words surprised you, and in that moment, something inside you changed. The idea of the gargoyle as a mere statue, an impassive being, began to crumble. Maybe there was something deeper inside her, something more than a prisoner of stone.

"Why have they turned you into this?" you asked, taking a step toward her, intrigue replacing your fear.

Silence.

"Because time does not forgive," she said finally, her tone much softer, almost sad. "And the price for protecting these temples... is much more than you can imagine."

Your heart beat faster as you looked at the gargoyle, not as a threat, but as a living tragedy. Maybe, just maybe, there was a way to break the curse that kept her trapped in her stone form.

And as she watched you, the fate of both seemed to hang by a thread as fragile as the touch of your hands on the cold stone.

more sevika cosplay crumbs ~

follow my twitter hehe @ higuromii I can’t wait to do her s2 look!! wig is already secured.

Omg im so super done with fragile helpless reader!!! Pls do sevika and reader freshly dating or even just seeing each other, they’re still still getting to know each other and sevika being herself she LOVES to tease and annoy reader and show off her strength and stuff expecting reader to be to be helplessly weaker than her, however when reader get fed up enough they start fighting back ^playfully^ and sevika making a mental note to not take readers warning for granted🙏🏼 basically reader unexpectedly humbling sevika

Challenge Accepted

"Look me in the eye and say that again." You said in a more gravely voice that usual as you shifted into a better sitting position, glaring daggers into Sevika's gaze.

This wasn't the first time Sevika underestimated your strength or wit. She had the habit of doing that because of the sheer fact she was so darn old and had seen a lot.

You admitted it, yeah she'd seen some shit in life but that didn't automatically mean she was untouchable.

"I dont think you'd be able to take me in a fight." Sevika repeated and put out the cigarette she was smoking in the ashtray on the bedside table.

"Oh, yeah?" You repositioned yourself so you were now over her thighs, straddling them. "Are you challenging me?"

"Why yes, sweetheart." Sevika stared at you with amusement, one eyebrow raising.

"Challenge accepted." You whispered and got off her.

Sevika blinked in mild shock before slowly getting off the bed too, to stand in front of you.

Sevika easily towered over you. But that didn't faze you really, you'd come to terms with the fact you were short as fuck compared to her.

"You really wanna do this?" Sevika asked as she crossed her arms, both flesh and mechanical arms flexing as she did so.

"You scared?" You taunted as Sevika flexed her flesh bicep purely to annoy you non-verbally.

And it worked.

It ticked you off.

You charged at her, but Sevika being taller than you took advantage of her height.

She scooped you up with ease, pinning you to the wall. "Angel, just accept it. You're weaker than me." There was no heat behind her words as she said it though. It was more playful than anything.

You simply gave her an amused look before locking your legs around her waist and grabbing her flesh hand, pressing down on the shoulder nerve making her wince and pull her arm back.

Because she did so, she let go of your frame giving you the opportunity to push her on the bed with all your strength and pinning her hands down with both your legs.

You grinned victoriously at her.

"Gremlin." Sevika whispered under her breath. You let up and let her get out of your grasp, Sevika flexed her mechanical arm and it's fingers before letting out a soft sigh.

"Fine, you win."

You smiled and laid back down in the bed, the soft mattress dipping under your weight.

"Wipe that look off your face." You pulled Sevika close.

"Hmph."

She was clearly sulking. What a sore loser. But that's fine. She was yours after all.

As you laid down beside her, Sevika wrapped her flesh arm around you. You grinned a little and wrapped both arms around her, squeezing her making her chuckle.

"Even though I am prideful, I correct my errors if I notice them." Sevika kissed your forehead, it was a silent promise of always respecting your strength. That's all you needed.

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.

Ambessa feeding into readers mommy issues… I need

♡ Approval, something you'd constantly demand from any older woman you'd encounter. It was pathetic really, the ongoing desire you'd always have to be reminded that you're enough. And Ambessa, she'd absolutely feed your little comfort seeking heart.

Smiling at you through the crowd, squeezing your shoulders with one hand as she'd pass by you, examining your art crafts with attention and giving detailed comments, brushing your hair gently while massaging your scalp, pinching your nose in a teasing manner whenever you'd get upset over small things.

It was amusing to her really, the way you couldn't hide the sparkle in your eyes whenever she'd slightly praise you, your heart jumping in joy and happiness, the missing places getting filled slowly by her warmth and affection. She knew she was all you'd needed and sought for your whole life, so she was going to grant it generously, knowing how calm and relieved it'd make you.

"You're always so good for me," she'd tuck your hair behind your ears, kissing your forehead making you smile ear to ear. "Wish I'd found you sooner you know" she'd mumble into your ear from behind as you were busy doing your little things, eyebrow frowned in focus. "Relax, little one" she'd touch between your eyebrows with her thumb, making your frown disappear.

She had a habit of showering you with kisses, her soft plump lips traveling on your skin, slowly leaving kisses all over the warmth of your body. It soon turned into a habit, running to her in the middle of the day demanding kisses, to which she'd deliver happily. "Greedy little thing," she'd hum in your neck "You're lucky I love you"

masterlist

sevika always sits you on her lap during her card games, one hand in between your thighs to enjoy your body's warmth. she's got her thumb rubbing slow circles against your clothed clit, ignoring every sniffle and whimper you make when she grinds her thumb a bit too hard.

until it gets to a point where you're too loud due to sevika pushing your panties to the side to access your slick hole. she bullies two thick fingers into you, cooing softly when you moan loudly, enough to draw attention from all over the bar.

when she sees people looking, she stares them down with a look that means death. everyone knows to avert their gaze, despite the tempting sight you make writhing on sevika's lap.

because you're hers and her fucking you in public doesn't mean people are allowed to look at what's hers.