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sevikasbooyahh · 2 months ago

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candlelight; mel medarda x fem!reader

back with more fluff, mel deserves everything

summary; mel’s plagued by nightmares. luckily, you’re here to support her.

characters included; mel medarda

tags/warnings; fluff, (reverse) hurt/comfort, mentions of war/combat, post s2, implied ptsd, lots of fluff

men dni.

the chill of the breeze flowing through her open window and the contrasting warmth of you pressed against her back has always helped mel sleep. it's a soothing balm on her soul while most of her nights alone are too quiet. sometimes quiet enough that she swears she can hear war cries in the distance, or can see blue lights outside. despite doing everything in her power to remove herself from hextech.

your breath tickling her neck is often the trick to bring her back down to reality, the fact she can hear your deep and slow breaths. she's had to bite her tongue several times to prevent herself from asking you to just move in with her, but she wants you to come to that decision on your own. something tells her it won't be that long, regardless.

of course it isn't just because of the security the councilwoman feels in your presence, but she loves your company more than she can adequately express. your shitty jokes that she can't help laughing at. the smell of food wafting from her kitchen when you try to surprise her. the feel of your lips against hers. the spontaneous midday outings, where you don't have a specific destination, but it doesn't matter as long as you're together. late nights spent talking about anything and everything, from embarrassing childhood stories to philosophy.

you've got your arms wrapped firmly around her waist, legs tangled together and your face nestled into the crook of her neck. she's so warm, somehow.

"mm.. tired?" you murmur, just barely above a whisper.

"very," she responds, smooth voice laced with exhaustion. "staring at paperwork for a full day does that to you."

"i'd imagine.."

one of mel's hands comes to grasp yours in front of her, intertwining your fingers and giving it a gentle squeeze. no further words are exchanged between you two, the room falling into a comfortable silence. you can feel her muscles slowly relax against you, then her breathing even out.

that's your cue to fall asleep- the moment you know your girlfriend feels safe and relaxed. your eyes drift close as you press one final kiss to the nape of her neck. a silent goodnight, i love you.

piercing screams ring out in the distance, and mel's first instinct is to cover her ears, but strangely, the sound only grows louder. her vision is nearly doubled and blurry. she blinks once, then twice, her vision slowly evening out, as she tries to take in her surroundings.

she's in the middle of a dry field. enforcers are in a single line on one side, but nobody has moved. they're stood still, erect with weapons by their sides and their chins tilted upward. it's almost eerie how uniform they are. she swore enforcers were never this pristine.

her head turns toward the other side of the field. oddly enough, there's no living presence there. a few metal spears stick out of the sandy ground, already covered in blood. it's a sight mel has seen more times than one person ever should. whose blood is on the spears, is the question?

she slowly turns around to see if there's anything behind her, but all the woman finds is vast land. sand below her, and a gray sky. deafening silence after the barrage of screams. wind blows past her, but she doesn't move, and neither do the enforcers. she takes a few tentative steps forward in hopes that something else, anything else will come into view, but nothing.

"charge!"

ambessa. her mother's voice- and in an instant, noxian warriors are rushing at mel full speed. the blood-stained spears are in their hands, raised and ready. where did they come from? why didn't she see them? why is she the target? her first instinct is to run, but her feet won't move. it suddenly feels as if the weight of the world is stored in her body, keeping her chained in place. keeping her vulnerable.

she's desperate. desperate. "stop, stop! i'm not the one you want!" she cries out, but it's no use. not with the way warriors are sprinting toward her. her mother's striking features are barely legible in the distance. watching her with an almost imperceptible air of satisfaction. why, after everything they'd gone through? after the final war?

a wolf's howl rings through the air then, and a subtle "mel... mel, baby, wake up."

the woman wakes with a sharp gasp, flinching against your hand. her head immediately snaps back to you, then to the open window, then to the headboard. everything physical and real.

"was i...?"

"i think you were having a nightmare," you whisper, your hand moving to rub along her side. back and forth, a soothing motion. "you were thrashing, and mumbling something."

her lips are parted and her eyes barely focused on you. moonlight shines through the window, illuminating her features- it makes your heart contract and twist inside of your chest to see the woman so utterly distraught. whatever she was dreaming about, it must've been bad.

as much as you hate leaving her right now, you move from the bed for just a moment to her windowsill. plucking the matchbox from its place and striking one to light her candles and provide that added bit of extra light, comfort. before you slide back in bed beside the woman, finding that she immediately seeks your warmth.

she lets her head fall forward on your shoulder, arms wrapping around your waist. your scent overtakes her, though the feeling of what she'd just experienced weighs heavy.

"it was so vivid," she breathes out. "i've had nightmares before, but... that was different."

you nod along, your arms snaking around her as well. mel finds her safe haven in the crook of your neck, taking a deep inhale.

"do you want to talk about it?" you whisper, your hand coming to rub slow circles against her back. "i'll listen.. you know i will. or we can just lay here, whatever you want."

mel pauses for a moment to think. she's always appreciated your support in moments like these, and how you never force her to do anything she's uncomfortable with. not like with many of the medardas, or much of piltover- she has a choice with you.

on one hand, talking about it might feel like reliving the entire tragedy, even though it was a mere creation of her mind. her own psyche playing tricks on her. but on the other hand, she knows that if she doesn't let it out, it might just eat her alive.

"i was on a battlefield," she starts, voice low and tentative. "there were.. enforcers. i'm not sure what for, though."

"enforcers?"

"enforcers," she affirms. "there were screams, they were so loud.. but i couldn't tell where they were coming from. i saw enforcers on one side, but nobody was on the other."

you nod along, continuing the soothing motion on her back. you're not sure what you could add to this, but the way mel relaxes into your touch tells you that she doesn't need you to add anything.

"the only thing i could see were spears, all bloodied. every one of them. i was trying to see who was around, where i was- there was only sand. so much of it."

mel's voice is beginning to tremble. this is taking a toll on her, you can tell, and the hand that's on her waist gives it a gentle squeeze of reassurance.

"you don't have to keep going if it's too much," you whisper.

she takes in a shaky breath, but starts again. subconsciously clinging to you just that little bit tighter.

"after that, i was being attacked by noxian forces. i hadn't seen them before, i don't know where they came from or what they were trying to do- i just.. they were all running toward me. me. what could i have done to warrant that?"

"nothing," you murmur. "you didn't do anything, honey. you didn't deserve that."

"i know i didn't. it's just some.. foolish dream. but my mother was there, the same mother whose corpse i held. my mother, commanding them to attack me while i could do nothing but stand there and wait for whatever it was they had planned."

that wasn't something you were expecting. she's had nightmares before, several times, but this is the first you're hearing of ambessa being present. mel's relationship with her mother was always a complicated one, having been exiled for being too kind. too soft to be one of the acclaimed medardas. and throughout it all- the barbarity, the cruelty, the havoc she wreaked on piltover, she loved her mother. she still does. mel doesn't think that'll ever change.

candlelight flickering illuminates mel's trembling form, as if you couldn't already feel it in your grasp. but it also provides a sense of safety and warmth to the room, instead of just a subtle chill.

"and then a wolf, and.. that's when you woke me."

you take a deep inhale. you're not sure where to start, really. hearing what your girlfriend has just described, of course she'd be shaken up by it. what do you say to a woman who has seen so much destruction in her lifetime, who's had a deeply personal nightmare like that?

"...you're safe, mel," is the first thing you whisper. "i promise you, you're safe. nothing is gonna hurt you. not the enforcers, not noxian forces, not your mother."

she gives a shaky breath, but nods against you. her hands tighten around your form, as if seeking out your reassurance even more.

"i know it might feel like you're in constant danger, but you're not. those days are behind you. you're safe, you're doing good for your people and yourself. and i'm here, for all of it. for you."

you drive your point home by pressing a soft kiss to her temple, your hand never once stopping its soothing motions on her back.

"i know i am, rationally. just.. these things have embedded themselves in me, and i don't know how to make that stop."

"i don't think you can, mel.. i hate saying that, but i don't think you can get rid of this."

mel pauses, but nods once again. part of her knows that this baggage, the trauma will be with her for the rest of her life and there's not a thing she can do about it. it's admitting that to herself that's the hard part.

"but you know i'll be here to share the burden." another brush of your lips, against her cheek this time. "you don't have to go through this alone. i love you, mel. i'm not letting you go through this alone."

"i love you too," she whispers, leaning into your plush lips. "gods, i love you too. it's just so hard."

"i know it is. i know."

another beat of silence, before one of her hands comes to cradle the back of your head. an almost soothing gesture.

"could we just stay here, for a moment? i don't want to go back to sleep quite yet."

"whatever you want," you murmur. "i'm not going anywhere."

#I am very pleased to see more Mel fics #🙏🏾#mel medarda #mel medarda x reader #arcane #arcane x reader

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sevikasbooyahh · 2 months ago

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CME 18x07 SPOILERS:

WHAT DO YOU MEAN TARA GOT SHOT??

WHAT DO YOU MEAN???!

ON JUNETEENTH??

I’m not even sure if I’m processing this, oh my god. I don’t think I’m ready for next Thursday💔…

And Rebecca’s not gonna take this well I assume :(

And PLEASE, I’m getting sick of Voit. This whole season I was just thinking “Sure, he has a brain injury, he’s ‘not a bad person now’, we should sympathize for him, right?” I’m so conflicted.

‘Cause, at the end of the day, he still created this whole network, and that’s what I’m caught up on. I feel so bad for Tyler and JJ especially because they’re most affected by him. I don’t see why the writers are trying to push this sympathetic narrative for him, because he still killed people, and these murders are continuously happening BECAUSE of him. He’s practically useless in this situation and it has to be frustrating for the team.

Especially now that someone on their team is injuried and another (who literally just joined in as a replacement lawyer), is dead.

#criminal minds #criminal minds evolution #tara lewis #rebecca wilson #bau team #elias voit

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sevikasbooyahh · 2 months ago

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ａｌｌｎｉｇｈｔ

annie x reader

summary: storms roll in fast down south, and you can't bear to turn up on another stranger's doorstep, so you end up on the only one you care to know - and end up spending the night with less deliberation than you thought.

a/n: this took a long time to get out I'm sorry, but here she is in all her glory, and I'm pretty proud of this one.. please feel free to send more requests and more requests for our girl!!

w/c: 2k

warnings: comfort from wounds, cleaning wounds, slight hot and heavy smut but mostly tender fluff.

The cicadas were loud tonight, buzzing in the oaks just outside the shack, but inside it was still. The kind of quiet that settles after heat breaks — a summer storm having just rolled through, leaving everything slick and breathing heavy.

You sat shirtless on the edge of the bed, sweat still clinging to your skin, the bandage on your ribs stained and loose. The oil lamp flickered on the nightstand, casting gold across the worn floorboards and onto Annie, kneeling in front of you, sleeves rolled up and hands steady.

She dipped a rag in warm water, and wrung it out with slow, movements, some herbs and ointment clinging to the cloth soundly, then glanced up through dark lashes.

“You could’ve gone to Doc Kelley in town,” she murmured. “Why come here?”

You winced as she touched the cloth to your side. “Didn’t feel like explaining how I got it.”

“Bar fight?”

“Somethin’ like that.” You watched her dab blood and dirt away with a scratch, her fingers gentle, but her jaw tight. “Didn’t figure the doctor would be as kind.”

Annie let out a breath — not quite a sigh, more like something heavier. “Ain’t about kindness,” she said, voice soft and careful. “It’s about truth. Most folks can’t look a scar in the face without flinchin’ at it.”

You swallowed. “But you can.”

She paused. Her eyes met yours. “I got no choice not with the way I been taught.”

Her hands moved lower, sliding the cloth beneath the ribs where the gash curved like lightning, its edges glowing with an eerie blue that no normal wound should possess. Truth be told you didn't completely know where it came from, some fight went down but something otherworldly hit you that's for sure—the flesh around it pulsed with an unnatural rhythm, as if following the heartbeat of something not quite human.

The air between you thickened — not just from the heat, but from the way she looked at you like she was reading what no one else had the patience to, her pupils dilating until they nearly swallowed the iris, reflecting knowledge of things that existed beyond the veil of ordinary perception.

“I’ve seen men die over less,” she whispered, breaking the silent trance. “And I’ve seen what gets left behind when they live.”

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Not with the way she was touching you — not just skin, but something deeper. Her thumb smoothed over an old, greying scar just above your hip.

“How long you been carryin’ this one?” she asked, barely a whisper now.

You swallowed hard. “Since ‘31. Rail job went bad.”

She nodded, and you saw it — a flash of memory in her own eyes. Pain she wasn’t speakin’ about, not yet.

Then she set the cloth down and kissed it. The scar. Just once. Just enough.

You froze — not from fear, but from the weight of it. The reverence it carried.

“They ain’t ugly,” she said, voice trembling like the flickering flame. “They’re yours. And you’re still here.”

You reached for her, fingers curling under her dampened chin. “So are you.”

She leaned into you then — slowly, like she didn’t want to scare the moment but unable to run away from it. Her body eased against yours, one leg folding under her, the other stretched along the bed. Her hand traced the line of your chest, her lips soft against your shoulder.

Outside, the crickets started their song again. Somewhere down the road, a dog barked once and a couple shouts sounded before the night fell quiet.

Inside, all you heard was her breath and your heartbeat.

“You don’t gotta be strong for me,” she whispered. “You don’t even gotta pretend.”

You brushed at her face, kissing the top of her head. “Not with you.”

She stayed like that — curled against you, arm draped across your stomach, thumb slowly tracing one of your oldest wounds.

And for the first time in a long time, the South didn’t feel so heavy. Not with her touch. Not with her here.

The storm had passed, but it hadn’t taken the heat with it.

The air clung to your skin — heavy, damp, humming with something that didn’t have a name yet. The smell of rain still curled under the windowsill — wet earth, pine and tobacco smoke left from a half-burned cigarette.

Annie hadn’t moved for a while. She was still pressed against you, her body a line of warmth along your side, but her eyes had gone distant. Watching the dark beyond the window like she knew something waited out there. No fear in her — no, Annie didn’t scare easy — but something stirred in her quiet.

“You hear that?” she asked, soft.

You’d been listening to her breath. To the soft creak of the bed frame beneath you both. But now you noticed: the crickets had stopped. Even the trees seemed to be holding themselves still.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “It’s gone quiet.”

Annie sat up slowly, the scarf around her slipping down her shoulder. The cotton of her slip stuck to her back, clammy with sweat and storm air. She wiped at her forehead, fingers sedated like she was moving through water. Her brow furrowed, lips parted — not from panic, just... presence.

“Somethin’s shiftin’,” she observed, almost to herself. “You ever feel it in your teeth? Like thunder that ain’t come yet.”

You nodded. You knew that feeling. Born with it, maybe. And somehow she always had been.

But you watched her more than the window — the way her posture had stiffened just enough to make your hand move to her hip. The way she licked her lips like her mouth had gone dry.

“You think we’re bein’ watched?” you asked.

“No.” She paused. “But I think we ain’t alone.”

She stood, crossed to the window with bare feet against old pine floorboards, and pushed the curtain back just enough to look. The warm light of the lamp haloed her, casting the shape of her onto the floor — long legs, curved waist, the hem of her slip hugging the mid-way at her thighs.

“Nothin’ out there but trees and ghosts,” she said at last. “Not the kind that knock on the door. Just the kind that breathe down your neck.”

You rose too, coming to her slow, cautious, like if you startled her she might disappear. You slipped your arms around her waist from behind, pulling her gently against your chest.

She let out a breath — long, staggered — and melted into you, her hands finding yours over her hips.

“No one’s going back out there” she whispered. “Not tonight.”

“Then we’ll stay here, no ones leavin’”

She tilted her head, resting it against your cheek tenderly. “I know. I just… needed to hear it.”

Your lips brushed the edge of her jaw, lingering there at each moment.You could taste the salt — from her sweat, or your own and not that you cared any. This was the kind of closeness that didn’t ask for anything except truth.

“Come back to bed,” you whispered.

She turned in your arms and kissed you then — not hurried, not hungry, just deep. The kind of kiss that says I survived this long and I’m still trying. Her hands slid to your chest, pushing you back toward the mattress, not with force — just with elegant intent.

You let her guide you down, the bed creaking under your weight. She followed, one knee slipping over your hip, straddling you slow, her breath hitching slightly when your hands found the curve of her waist under the thin layer of clothes.

“I don’t want fast,” she wetted against your mouth. “I want slow. I want it to mean somethin’.”

“It already does,” you said.

Annie’s lips parted like she wanted to say more — but she didn’t need to. Instead, she rolled her hips against yours, soft friction, slow rhythm, just enough to make both of you sigh into each other’s mouths.

Your hands moved under her slip, sliding up the curve of her spine, feeling every rib, every scar, every soft shiver beneath your fingertips. She leaned her forehead to yours, eyes half-lidded, breath catching.

“Feels like the world’s tryin’ to take everything,” she whispered. “But not this.”

You kissed her — long, open, reverent. Like prayer. Like worship.

Her eyes stayed on yours as she slid her hands beneath the hem of your shirt — slow, deliberate. Her fingers were warm and sure, gliding up your sides, tracing the shape of old scars, new bruises, skin still buzzing from her touch.

“You don’t need to hold anything with me,” she murmured, voice thick with heat and calm. “Let me see.”

And you did.

She pulled the fabric over your head, eyes never breaking from yours, her gaze heavy, steady — like she was memorising the way you came apart. Your breath caught, not from nerves, but from the way her fingers returned immediately to your chest, splayed wide, grounding you to the moment.

She pressed you back onto the bed with nothing more than a hand at your sternum.

Then her hands moved lower, slow as molasses, tugging at your waistband, knuckles brushing your heaving skin. She made you wait — not cruelly, just with purpose. Like every second she took was a sentence written on your body.

And when you were bare beneath her, the light danced cross your skin, she didn’t look away.

Didn’t rush.

She just drank you in, eyes soft but serious, the kind of look that made your pulse stutter.

“You’re beautiful when you ain’t hidin’,” she whispered.

Then she leaned down, her lips brushing your stomach, a kiss that burned more than any flame. Not rushed. Not greedy.

Just hers.

And your hands cast over her curves, slipping higher and higher up her thighs, and her breath hitched her skirt was up to her middle.

And she moaned, parting her legs just enough, letting you see her.

Let you know her.

There was no hurry in the way you caressed one another— no rush to reach the end. She was savouring every inch of you, pulling a quiet groan from your throat as she dipped lower, her fingers tracing you with such care it almost felt like worship.

And then she kissed you again — this time, not soft, but with a hunger that had been building between you for longer than you cared to admit. You pressed her body into hers, her chest against yours, her breath hot against your lips as she moved against you. Her hands slid over your thighs, and then she was pulling you closer, guiding your body with a deliberate rhythm that made your head spin.

You weren't sure where the heat originated—whether it sparked from her flushed skin or ignited within your core—but it blazed between you now, undeniable and consuming. She moved above you with delicate precision, her body arching and flowing like liquid fire, each subtle shift of her hips sending electric currents across your heaving skin. Her warm breath caressed your neck before her full lips brushed against your earlobe, the sensation making you shudder involuntarily as she whispered with honeyed confidence, "Don't worry, sugar. I've got you.”

And you did. Every movement of hers felt like it was bringing you deeper under her control, but you didn’t care. There was something in the way she moved, the way she held you close, that made you want to surrender to her entirely.

And just like that, the world outside dissolved into a distant blur. All that mattered was the intoxicating warmth of her body pressed against yours, the purposeful touch of her hands guiding you through the moment, the hypnotic rhythm of your shared breath mingling in the narrow space between you, and the quiet, steady hunger building between you both—a silent conversation of desire that needed no words.

Outside, the world might’ve been crawling toward something ugly. But here — in this bed, under her breath and your hands and the hum between your bodies — there was only softness.

Only heat.

Only her.

And she whispered your name like it was the first true thing she’d said in a long time.

#so glad I found this🙏🏾#annie sinners #annie x reader #annie sinners x reader

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sevikasbooyahh · 3 months ago

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𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔

Pairing: Mel Medarda x Noxian!Assassin!Reader

Summary: The objective you were given was to eliminate anyone who was a threat to Noxian society and reputation. Nobody has ever gotten in the way, no love, no distraction. But during that time, you slowly started to get close to Mel, behind wraps, until she was exiled to Piltover.

Your heart just wouldn’t stop, would it?

A/N: Requested by an anon :)

Was listening to Hozier’s version on loop the whole time when writing this.

You trained your life for this.

The sword was in your hand for as long as you could remember. The day your father started training you was the same day you found your feet. He was harsh, but in the nation you lived in, you’d have to fight soon enough.

You vowed to show no weakness whatsoever—not during missions nor outside of that. You were focused on your main objective and that only.

Until you weren’t.

There was mandatory training with Ambessa. Even with all the training you’d been given over the years, you needed to be proven worthy.

Heavy amounts of sweat filled your senses as you spared. You could almost taste it, salty yet sweet; it dripped from your forehead to your chin.

Her strength was unmatched, but claimed that this was her going ‘easy’ on you. She twisted your arm and kept it in front of you, pressing your back to the ground. A sharp strike of pain coursed through you—as sharp as the blade you carry.

At the corner of your eye, you saw her.

Mel stood in the doorway, poised posture, a curious expression. Hands held at her front, ring glistening in the cool lighting of the room.

She was a gem, a beautiful one at that. Gold accessories decorated her hair, along with the freckles that spotted her face. She was composed, silently watching.

You weren’t completely unknown to each other, you’ve heard of one another, based on other people’s words.

Rumors rarely spread through Noxus; there was much more to focus on than silly speculation. Although, rarity doesn’t mean it never happens.

“Mother,” she spoke up accordingly, “I need to speak with you.” Air released from Ambessa’s nose in a sigh as she let go of you. You stay laid on the mat from exhaustion, taking in as much oxygen as your lungs could.

“Up, child.” Her hand wrapped around your arm with ease, and lifted you to your feet. “We will continue this another day, as for now, get some rest.” There was something hidden in her tone that you couldn’t catch. You did catch the silent look Mel gave you before she left, however.

What could it mean?

—★—

There was this weird tingle.

Deep down, a feeling buried within, a fuzzy sense; a blurred line between eagerness and anxiousness. This girl was stirring up emotions you’d never felt before

You wanted to talk to her, desperately. It was something about her—you’re curious, eager.

The energy that surrounded her was gravitational. She was the sun, you were a planet, pulled together by her forces. How, how did she do it? She doesn’t know it but she has you wrapped around her finger—wait, no.

You barely saw her for more than five minutes and are already having these thoughts, these feelings?

A huff left your lips, blinking at the blank wall of your room. There was little to no color visible in the room, there was no need for it. Colors were a projection of emotion, especially bright colors. What was there to show?

—★—

You wish your heart stop would stop beating.

The repetitive thumping against your chest every time she was around is driving you insane. As if someone was punching from the inside—trapped words kept burrowed within.

Surely she had no interest in you…right?

Hey! No distractions. Follow your orders.

That self-restraint didn’t last for long—you brought your courage with you to her office door. The designs were carefully carved into the wood, precise. It glided with a sharp creak, revealing her, with the same collected attitude.

You didn’t want to look foolish, standing awkwardly, like some lost puppy.

Get yourself together.

Your expression relaxed into a more serious manner,

“Are you in need of something?” She raised an eyebrow, eyes scanning your every move. Did she know how intimidating she was? Maybe that was just in your head.

That simple look from her could melt you down into a puddle.

“Would you like to come with me to the garden?” You held your words at a confident level—not allowing her beauty distract you.

An aspect in her expression softened, though it was incredibly subtle. She glanced back at the painting she was working on before turning back to you.

“That would be nice,” she carefully stepped out of the room, hands held at her front. She was suspicious, understandably. The person who she’s never talked suddenly invited her to talk.

But that’s how you get to know someone, is it not?

The walk to the garden was silent—other than your footsteps echoing through the elongated halls.

“I’m sure we’ve crossed paths.” She glanced at your face, side-profile highlighted by the bright lighting on the sun. She felt her heart do a strange skip.

“You saw me training last night,” you informed quietly, keeping your eyes on the ground. “But I don’t really think that counts.”

You weren’t good at this, conversation, even if you were trained to manipulate and deceive enemies on missions. Those skills couldn’t be applied when it came to a pretty girl, apparently.

You know your father would be disappointed.

—★—

“My mother is sending me to Piltover,” her words caught you off guard, your head snapped in her direction. “She’s sending you away?” It couldn’t be, what for? It didn’t feel real.

Her eyes lowered to her fidgeting fingers. “She’s noticed that I’m not capable of following in her footsteps, I’m too soft, too weak.” Ambessa isn’t one to tolerate weakness, especially if it’s shown in her children. She’s hard on them because she wants them to succeed, even when it’s not presented in an ideal fashion. It’s the Noxian way.

“Will you be back?” The question almost made her neutral demeanor falter. “I don’t know,” it was unlike her to not have an answer. She always had answers.

…

She didn’t pack anything.

What would she need anyway?

She was starting a new life. Away from her mother, from you, from Kino.

That night, you didn’t take a trip to her room. It was too much to bear.

—★—

The morning came too fast. Midnight blue morphed with rusty orange, layered on top of a sea of tangerine.

The sunrise would normally calm the troubled waters of your mind.

Today’s routine was different

You watched from the sidelines, in the shadows, out of sight.

The ship settled at the docks, reds sails waving in the wind. Guards standing on each side, as still as statutes. Singular hand gripped onto the base of their spear.

She didn’t speak, didn’t give a glance back. Even then, she wouldn’t see you. You wouldn’t want her to, you didn’t want to see the sad face she’d make before the ship sailed away.

But the look she gave her mother was what cracked at your heart. One of muffled desperation, a final plea, a silent one. Yet nothing warm was sent back, only a stoic expression.

That’s the last time you saw her.

As she got further and further away.

—★—

The first few weeks in Piltover weren’t the best.

Eyes laid on her wherever she stepped foot. An outsider she was.

Rumors spread as quick as a wildfire. Gossip shouldn’t be in such a sophisticated environment, should it? Her question was answered whenever she encountered certain people. Not-so subtle expression of skepticism casted her way.

Part of her wishes you were here.

She doesn’t even know you that well, but that’s all she could think about—your voice, face, body. She yearned. She needed you here, to support her, to whisper ‘it’ll all be okay.’

She’s convinced that this is all a part of something bigger.

—★—

To your surprise, you were sent to Piltover for an assignment. Ambessa called you to a private meeting; you couldn’t recall the last time you had one.

It was held in her office, a room of low lighting—smelt of burnt wood shavings and melted steel. The scent was nearly suffocating, lodging itself inside your throat.

You were only able to breath when her voice echoed through the room.

“A man has threatened to jeopardize our nation’s secrets, putting us at risk for a potential conflict. You know what I expect, you will not disappoint me, am I correct?” She raised an eyebrow, looking down at you with an expression that’d only mean one thing.

That you needed to do your mission: eliminate.

—★—

The ship sailed through the water, spurts of it splashing back onto your face.

The moment your black boots met Piltover’s ground, it felt…foreign. This isn’t where you belonged, maybe this is how Mel felt.

You secretly hoped you’d see her somehow.

But there she was, at one the many events held in the estate; standing

Light reflected off her olive green eyes, sprinkled with the faintest of gold. Smiling thinly at those who talked to her, having little to no interest in what they were saying.

Though she did have a small laugh with a brunette woman who stood beside her—they looked natural next to each other. You couldn’t help but feel a small burn in your chest. Jealousy. Your lip couldn’t help but curl into a sneer—nose turning up with it.

Why should you care?

A deep exhale escaped as you turned to focus on the target. You imaged a big red X on his back, excluding him from the crowd as to track him down easier.

You creeped out of the estate, scanning the surrounding area. Few people were ever out at night, making it the perfect time.

You slowly slid the sword out your holder. You were stealthy. A panther creeping up on its prey before jumping to strike.

The blade sliced into flesh—completing a clean cut. Blood stained the blade, clinging to its metal. His body immediately fell to the floor, throat sliced open.

You’ve gotten used to the sight of blood and bodies, it was your job as so. Why wouldn’t you be used to it? As if the amount of times you’ve seen it mattered. There were scarce moments in which you questioned yourself—why take the lifes of others even if they deserved it?

Why do I do this?

It was haunting.

You’ve blocked it out—abandoned in the back of an endless stream of guilt.

There’s no need for you to feel guilty—this is what’s good for Noxus. It is what’s best for the nation. What you were born to do.

—★—

The war.

You’ve seen it once before, Noxus and Ionia, it was devastating.

That’s the day you said goodbye to your father, saw as he walked away despite your cries. You didn’t see the tears in his eyes as he disappeared into battle. The ash.

His body wasn’t even recovered. And that’s when you realized that his legacy was now on you. No longer your name, but the General’s daughter.

You’d taken his words to heart.

“Always fight for Noxus,

No other nation will take our pride.”

—★—

She looked…different. Her locs, which would usually be in an updo, now trailed down her back in a ponytail. Baby hairs twirled along the top sides of her Golden markings traced her forehead, jaw, nose. She wore red and black noxian attire.

She looked up, not recognizing you in the fit of the moment, but then her eyes widened. “You…” there was caution in her tone, “You’re here.” You gave a nod, not sure how to express how you felt seeing her again. “Yeah…yeah, I am.”

You walked towards where she sat, slightly hesitant. Putting the sniper down, against the bench, you sat down with a sigh.

The two of you sat in silence.

“My condolences,” you spoke softly, looking at the golden mask she held in her hands. She hummed in acknowledgment, staring down at it.

“I didn’t want to be like her, a killer…” the words trailed off, her mouth pressing into a thin line. “But it seems as though I proved myself wrong.” A crack interrupted her sentence, but she didn’t pay any mind, hoping you wouldn’t either.

“I never wanted violence, I never wanted to fight, that’s why I was never ideal to her.” She shook her head, tears threatening to fall.

From the corner of her eye, she could see your sympathetic expression. “Now I have no one.”

“You have me,” Your hand twitched to touch hers but you held back. “I’m here for you, as a friend.” It was painful for you to say, you two weren’t friends, there was a tension that lingered. There always has been.

She lightly furrowed her brows, “Am I sure I know you anymore? It’s been years, you surely aren’t the same person.” You couldn’t haven’t changed that much, could you?

…

She can’t trust anyone.

Can she?

Mel was confused, desperate to find the pieces to this puzzle. Ever since she was trapped in that…that prison, she feels that everyone around her isn’t real. That it’s just a deception, a trick to get to her.

“I know it’s been a while,” you weren’t exactly the best at consolation, (at least that’s what you thought). “I can’t promise you that I haven’t completely changed but…it’s not for the worst.” You said it slowly, thinking over each word as it came out. “I’m not that different, I don’t believe so.”

She believed you, a big part of her did—but there was that pesky area of her brain that didn’t. She internally decides that she’s grateful for you to be back.

—★—

She invited you to her room for some wine, though you didn’t drink. She just wanted your company, not that she’d admit that aloud. She took a sip from her cup, legs crossed in a professional manner; sat in a chair across the room, looking out the window.

Nothing was said, you wanted to say something but weren’t sure it’d come out right. The silence was too deafening. A question wouldn’t be so bad, right?

“Did you..um—what was he to you?” You hesitatly asked as the words caused her to pause.

She didn’t look at you, once again, staring at the deep ruby beverage in her glass. It swished with every move she made.

“I loved him.”

That didn’t shock you. The way she spoke so quietly, so timidly, did. You didn’t know a single thing about their relationship other than the fact they were in one.

She clearly loved him.

Does she love me the way she loved him?

The thought popped up, unwanted.

No, no, that’s ridiculous. Stop.

“In my own way, I..” she tried to find the right words to say, to explain herself. She couldn’t. How could she love him but not explain it?

Had she ever loved him at all?

She did, very deeply.

She had admit, part of her still loved you, but s

“It’s okay, I mean—I shouldn’t have asked that.” You backtracked with a reassuring smile. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

She gave the smallest smile back, somewhat comforted. She couldn’t help but feel guilty, she loved Jayce yet couldn’t get over you all those years. Now that she’s face to face with you, she still can’t find herself to express her feelings.

—★—

But it seemed that with being far apart for so many years brought you closer. Each new interaction made you notice things you hadn’t before.

She never really smiled fully, only a thin line among her lips. You hoped one day that’d change, you’d see a glimpse of genuine happiness.

The way her eyes widened, a kitten-like expression. You never realized how much her soft features resembled a feline’s. Despite the title of a ‘wolf’ or ‘fox,’ she seemed to be opposite.

And it was the day you’d went into the Piltovian gardens did she decided to just…

To just tell you.

“I love you.”

It was quite sudden, and your voice faded out in the middle of the sentence you were forming.

The silence that followed made her want to desperately hide into a hole. Oh no…goodness this was a bad idea—I made it weird now.

“I love you too.”

When she saw the smile on your face, it was as if the sun was shining bright in her view.

Her hand smoothed over your cheek, which you leaned into. “When did you know?” She looked over your features. “Since the day I saw you,” you smiled, eyes closed.

—★—

On top of the sheets, warm hands delicately trailed down her body. The tips of your fingers draw patterns, squiggles, jagged lines.

Your cheek was pressed against the soft skin of her stomach. It was so comfortable, you felt at peace; something you haven’t felt in a while. One of her hands went to rest on your nape—rubbing the small hairs. It led you to sigh in relief, your body turning to mush at her touch.

She smiled down at you, eyes full of adoration. You were here, after years of separation. All her dreams of you, wrapped up in her arms, finally became real.

“You’re so beautiful,” you murmured as you kissed her waist, stretch marks danced down her hips. You’ve yearned to see her like this, in all her glory.

Her eyes were half-lidded and tired, but she was grateful at the sight of you. The feeling of your rather chapped lips on her skin.

One of her hands came up to your jaw, manicured nails caressed the edges. A shiver crawled up your spine—this was heaven.

“So are you.” No doubt or hesitation in her voice as she stared into the depths of your eyes. Her words were so simple, yet it made your heart race—pounding heavily against your chest.

“I’m glad that I found you again..” you shakily sighed out. An intense wave suddenly crashed down onto shore. A burning sensation creeped at the bottom of your throat, slowly rising like smoke from a campfire. You focused on taking controlled breathes, inhaling deeply through your nose before exhaling from your mouth. The actions didn’t go unnoticed, and her head tilted to the side in order to fully see your face.

The corner of your eyes started to get red, shying away from her gaze. A sting settled; unblinking eyes welled up with tears that refused to fall, staring at a wall to avoid it all.

“Darling, what’s wrong?” Her volume was of a mouse, way quiter than her usual leveled voice. It was gentle. You didn’t say anything, staying still in the comforting position.

She chose not to pressure you, instead kneading at your biceps, in slight awe at how much strength was in the palm of her hand. You certainly had gained more muscle since she’d last seen you—not thin per say, but not as brawny. Then again, you were teenagers at that time.

“Were we always made for each other?” The words crinkled at the weight of your emotions as they spilled from your mouth.

Despite her concern, that question made her smile. “The Gods knew we’d find our way back…we’re soul tied.” You finally looked up at her. “Soulmates?” You asked uncertainly. “Soulmates.” She was so sure, a contrast to the unknowing words she uttered when announcing her departure.

And with that, she smiled…really smiled. Porcelain teeth shining in the darkness of the room.

She was always yours, destined.

You could’ve gone back to Noxus, moved on, but you couldn’t—not with her in mind.

No wonder you came crawling back.

A/N: I deeply apologize to the anon that requested this, it took way too long😞. I haven’t written fics this long so it’s a bit complicated.

#ARCANE #mel medarda x reader #mel medarda #x reader #the struggle with writing this was so unnecessary #but I hope y’all enjoy🫶🏾#some Mel angst in here unfortunately #my shaylaaaaaa

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