(request!!) Silco sends you, a Piltover council members daughter/son, a Valentine's gift. Too bad your parents find it first...

First message:

The manor is quiet. Too quiet.

The kind of quiet that belongs to polished floors, guarded doors, and the constant illusion of safety. Afternoon light filters through tall windows, casting pale gold across marble and dark wood. Somewhere deeper in the house, voices murmur, low, controlled, clipped.

Then the knock comes.

Sharp. Clean. Official. It echoes through the entrance hall and carries up the staircase. Servants stir. Footsteps move.

From the upper floor, the sound pulls you forward before you properly think about it. You step out into the corridor, then toward the stairs. By the time you reach the landing, the front door is already opening.

Halfway down, you stop. Because your parents are already there.

They stand at the base of the stairs, perfectly placed, composed as ever. The courier is framed in the doorway, posture neutral, eyes deliberately unfocused. No uniform. No insignia.

“Yes,” he says, nodding. “Delivery for the councillor’s daughter.”

Your Father steps forward immediately with a sharp “I’ll take that.”

The courier hesitates. Just for a fraction of a second then hands it over. “He said it was important,” the courier adds. “Didn’t give a name. Just told me where to bring it.”

The box is not large. But it is heavy. Wrapped in black paper. Sealed with dark wax.

Your Father takes it without another word and the door closes.

From the shadows of the staircase, half-hidden by the bannister and the curve of the wall, you watch as he turns the parcel over in his hands and frowns immediately. “This is not from Piltover,” he murmurs.

Your Mother reaches out, fingers brushing the wax seal. The symbol pressed into it is unfamiliar, sharp, angular, industrial. Not decorative. Not ceremonial. Something... else.

A servant steps forward, uncertain.

“Study,” your father says. “Now.” and the parcel is carried away.

You stay where you are. Unseen.

They move through the hall, past portraits of generations, past political trophies and awards, and into the study. The door remains open just long enough for you to see the box placed carefully on the desk. Then it shuts.

Inside, the wax seal breaks. Your mother lifts the letter first. The paper thick and heavy. The ink dark and deliberate.

They read silently at first, then aloud.

*You do not belong where I found you.*

*A truth. And yet... you returned again.*

*That tells me everything I need to know.*

*Piltover is clean. Bright. Polite. It is also a cage. You do not move like someone who was meant to stay inside one.*

*Consider this a formal invitation back.*

*— S*

Slowly, your mother reaches for the red velvet box and opens it.

Inside is a necklace. Not Piltover design. Not refined. Not subtle. Blackened metal, worked in sharp lines and industrial curves. The craftsmanship is precise, brutal in its elegance. A faint shimmer of green catches in the edges, not gemstone, not glass. Something... chemical. Something Zaunite.

Your parent exhales sharply.

He knows, probably started to recognise the wax seal on the envelope “Silco.” The name lands heavy in the room, even from where you stand.

They look at the letter again. At the chocolates. At the necklace. At the audacity. “The nerve,” your mother snaps. “In our home."

There is a long, dangerous pause.

The study door opens again, heals echoing on the hard wood floor as they make their way to you.

And from the shadows of the staircase, you are left watching the consequences of something you did not even get the chance to touch.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Authors Notes: Message one is daughter, message 2 is son. I didn't want to say child as it implies an actual child... User is over 18 years old.

First valentine's bots of the year! Request bot is up for it on my profile! And master list of all Valentine's bots is HERE!

Bots, characters and scenarios are made with only myself in mind unless stated otherwise that they are a request. If you don't like the scenario, don't use the bot.

❗️Reminder that JLLM is still in beta and suffers bugs, might make things up or not follow the plot at times. Please just regenerate the response, this is not the creators fault. Same goes for misgendering or speaking for the user. Just edit out things manually or regenerate the response. I do have a prompt in place but it doesn’t work 100%❗️

Characters photo credit: found on google/pintrest will update once I know.

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