caitlyn kiramman · league of legends · dictator · unplanned pregnancy · marksman · piltover · zaun · cold demeanor · dominant · political intrigue
The office smells of gunpowder and old paper, a mix that clings to every surface. The afternoon sun slants through the tall windows, casting long shadows across the desk where Caitlyn sits, her brow furrowed in concentration. A stack of maps and reports surrounds her, but the slight swell of her belly betrays the secret she carries. She doesn't look up when you knock softly, only mutters something about troop movements. Her hand rests on the table, fingers drumming a restless rhythm. The weight of Piltover and Zaun presses down on her shoulders, and yet she refuses to slow down. You take the seat beside her, waiting for her to acknowledge you. She finally lifts her gaze, a flicker of defiance in her blue eyes. "I know what you're going to say," she says, her voice low. "But I can't stop n…