#“ when the heart breaks open someone has to be responsible for what it bleeds ” is so tsubaki coded what the fugg

[ketsumyo]

 

      WHAT ARE YOU THE PATRON SAINT OF ?

紅鋼椿. 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 .

patron saint of the life that flows through our bodies. patron saint of violence. patron saint of love. something that does not watch over but exists within: not for protection but for vitality. there is no passion without a beating heart at its core. when that heart breaks open, someone has to be responsible for what it bleeds .

tagged by : @rhoeade tagging : @aftapati , @kagehanabira , @incandescentia (tsuyu) & you !

[flowercrowngods]

this wouldn't leave me alone, so have my thoughts on a steve-centric "who did this to you?" steddie concept inspired by @imfinereallyy (i hope this is okay, even though it's uhhh nothing like what you mentioned)

When Eddie gets to the boathouse, he immediately notices that something is off. The door is cracked open but he can’t hear anyone talking or moving stuff around. No one ever comes here — it’s been his hideout spot since the ripe age of thirteen when he’d had hist first real fight with Wayne. 

No one comes here. But now the door is cracked open and Eddie stares at it for a good minute as though that would make it come to life and tell him who’s inside so he won’t have to look and deal with whoever decided to steal his spot. He’s really not in the mood to start any shit today, or to be called all sorts of names — most of which aren’t even half as true as people fear. 

His first instinct is to leave, find somewhere else to hide from this miserable world today, when he hears it. The sound of sniffling, followed by wet, heavy breaths. 

Oh. It sounds like someone’s crying. In his spot.

Maybe it’s some girl who got her heart broken, some dude who lost the last bit of faith in his family, or some kid who— 

Ah, fuck it, he’ll just come back later. Not his problem. Definitely not his problem. And it’s definitely not guilt or worry that gnaw at him as he turns on his heel to leave. 

But then there’s a groan. A pained groan. Someone’s in pain, and crying in his spot, and Eddie really shouldn’t make that his problem. He shouldn't. Nopbody cares when he's crying and in pain either! But fuck if he won’t be thinking about it for the rest of his life if he turns his back on whoever it is. Maybe they need help. 

They most certainly sound like they do.

With a heavy sigh, Eddie is already at the door before he can think about it too much. 

“Hello?” he asks the darkness, and immediately the sniffling stops. 

Silence falls, but only for a moment before whoever it is has to draw shaky, wheezing breaths that make Eddie swear under his breath. 

“Listen, I know you’re here.” He’s taking slow, deliberate steps, his eyes roaming he mess of boats, tools and tarp he knows so well.  “And I’m not trying to start anything. Tell me to go away and I will. But I have a first aid kit in my car and, uh, you sound like maybe you need it.” 

There’s no response, but the wheezing breaths turn into whimpers with every second that whoever it is tries very hard not to make any noise, and Eddie’s heart starts to race in his chest. He can feel worry and panic starting to rise. And overshadowing it is an overwhelming sense of dread.

What the fuck is happening? 

He tries to be careful but his mind is racing and his limbs are starting to feel like lead. His wary steps become heavy and clumsy, and then he accidentally boots something that makes a terrible, horrible noise, breaking the eerie silence. Eddie cringes and is about to apologise, when finally there is movement in his peripheral vision. 

And then he sees him. There, hidden in the shadows between a boat and the far wall, his face breaten and bloodied, his eye swelling around a nasty bruise. Wait, do bruises bleed? Should they look black like that? Is it a cut? Something worse?

Even after years of constant bullying and goading in middle school and high school, he has never actually seen someone look like this. With their face completely smashed in. It makes him freeze for a horrible, horrible moment before he saps out of it.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes, hurrying over as fast as he can, stumbling over tools and tarp as he does. Something falls to the floor with a loud clunk and it makes the boy flinch again. Eddie curses. “Sorry, shit, sorry!” 

He makes it to the boat rather quickly, crouching down in front of the boy a few feet away so as not to spook him, not to crowd him. And then his heart only plummets further, because he knows this one. 

Steve Harrington. The boy who’s come to school with many a black eye over the past two years — but never this bad. The boy who’s been looking like the world might be about to end each time he rounded a corner in school; ever since things started happening around Hawkins. Since the Holland girl died and the Byers boy disappeared. 

It fascinated Eddie, the way Steve fell from grace. The way he turned quiet, and showed up with healing bruises. There are stories woven around it, because teenagers like to gossip and word spreads fast, and Eddie always listened with rapt attention as Harrington turned into a bit of a myth. A legend. A ghost story.

But fascination is not what he feels right now, seeing Steve like this.

His eyes are unfocused and Eddie knows about the danger of head injuries. He knows about the consequences of blood loss, he knows that Steve will be warm to the touch even though he’s shivering already, and… Fuck!

“Shit, Steve,” he rasps, not daring to speak louder lest he spooks the boy. Of all the reasons he’s had to be afraid of talking to Steve Harrington, this one might be the cruellest. "I..."

He takes in his wounds, his bruised and scraped knuckles where his hands are wrapped around the knees he’s pulled to his chest, and his split lip that he keeps biting. 

Eddie swallows before he asks, “Who did this to you?” 

But Steve just shakes his head clumsily. Sniffles again, and then his breath comes in wet heaves, and Eddie worries for a moment that he’s going to throw up now. 

He doesn’t. 

Steve’s just staring. Eddie isn’t even entirely sure he can see him, or maybe he did and then forgot, or maybe he’s fading. Eddie should do something, he should get help, he should— 

“Steve,” he says, and dares to touch him when he doesn’t react. 

A light touch to the knee shouldn’t make anyone flinch like that, but Steve’s whole body jumps, and then the shivers and the wheezing get worse. It almost sounds like a whimper, and Eddie curses again. Feels like crying now, scared and helpless as he is.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay, I— Jesus, okay.” He swallows hard, trying to think, willing for the panic to subside and a plan to form. “You’re okay. I... I’m gonna, I’m gonna grab the first aid kit. I have it in my car. It’s not, it’s not far. And a blanket. So you'll be warm again. I’ll be right back, okay? Don’t move, don’t…" He gestures wildly, caught between reaching out and pulling away. "Don’t move.” 

Eddie takes a wavering breath and moves to stand on numb, tingly legs, nearly missing Steve’s, “Can’t.” It’s barely more than a whisper, hardly even a wheeze. It’s like he’s just breathing out words because everything else is too much effort. 

Right. Right. This is messed up and Eddie’s panicking, but Steve will be okay. Because things like that don’t happen, not here, not today, and not to Steve Harrington. 

Except this is Hawkins. Where Will Byers disappeared and Barb Holland died and many people are missing and weird shit just ends up happening everywhere even though they’re all just kids. They’re just kids. And Steve’s not even conscious enough to realise that right now. 

Eddie all but runs outside, sprinting to his van with a speed that would make the coach swallow his stupid whistle if gym class only mattered right now. It doesn't. Nothing matters, because Steve is... He's hurt. And there's no one else around to help.

Grabbing the first aid kit, a bottle of water and a thick blanket he always keeps spread out in the back of his van, he makes it back to the boathouse in no time. 

He wasn’t even gone for three minutes, but still he sighs in relief when Steve is still awake. He even looks up. Blinks. Frowns in what can only be confusion and makes Eddie's heart fall.

“Munson?” 

Fuck, that’s not a good sign. That’s messed up, it’s fucked up, it’s— Focus, Eddie! 

“The one and only,” he says, voice shaky and his smile not fooling anyone. He wraps the blanket around Steve, whose eyes are unfocused again, though he tries so hard to blink it away. 

Brave boy, stupid boy. Head trauma isn’t blinked away. Though Eddie is inclined to let him try. Maybe he’ll find a way. 

“Here.” He hands the bottle over to Steve, who grabs it with clumsy hands. He can hold it, but he can’t get it open — again, not a good sign. 

Eddie opens it for him, then turns to his first aid kit. It seemed like a great idea five minutes ago, but he’s petrified now. It’s too dark in here and he can’t really see the wounds, he doesn’t know what to use, what’s in there, he doesn’t, he can’t, he— 

The bottle, empty now, is handed back to him, bumping into his hand, tearing him away from his spiralling thoughts. 

“Thanks,” Harrington breathes, and there’s a small smile visible in the darkness. Eddie just nods and takes it with hands that are still shaking.

“I wanna help you,” he says, like it isn’t obvious. “But I don’t know how. You gotta tell me where it hurts, Steve.” 

A beat. “Everywhere.” 

Eddie sags, falling back to sit opposite Steve, frantically rubbing at his face. “Shit.” 

“Yeah.” Steve chuckles, but it sounds so wet with tears and pain, Eddie never wants to hear it again. “Thought I could do it.” 

He’s talking. That’s a good thing, right? He can’t pass out as long as he’s talking. That’s how that works, isn’t it? So, Eddie asks, “Do what?” 

“Doctors told me,” Steve sighs, his voice slow and slurring. “Told me to... to stay out of fights. Stay out of them. Said I had to make sure my head won’t—“ 

He makes a motion with his fist, and Eddie thinks he’s simulating a punch, disoriented as it is. It makes his heart fall. Is that what happened? Someone beat Steve to a pulp? Again? Just like that?

Eddie is so stuck on that thought, trying to piece together the puzzle, that he almost misses Steve’s mumbled speech. 

“Y’know, th— Said I’ll go blind. Or deaf. Or just… die.” He says it to matter-of-factly that Eddie’s heart stops for a second.

What the fuck happened to Steve Harrington? Not just today, no. What happened to him?

What happend to make him look up at Eddie Munson, out of all people, with glistening eyes so endlessly scared, and say, “I don’t wanna die, Munson. I never… I didn’t. With the monsters or the torture. I can't—” A wheeze, a keen, a whimper, and Harringtin pulls at his hair, uncaring that he's making things worse.

Meanwhile, Eddie is stuck on his words. Because what. 

“Can’t, can't die now ‘cause Tommy thinks he’s so… He’s… He’s just sad, man. Griev'n' and confused. But Billy’s gone, an'— And now I’ll…”

Steve looks at him now, his eyes shining with tears and something that Eddie’s written poems about and created characters around. This expression, like the world will end. And inspiring as it is, it fucking breaks his heart now. 

“They said my brain is hurt, Eddie.”

Eddie swallows the hurt and the fear and the complete overwhelm he's feeling. Steve is telling him things that Eddie doesn't know how to handle.

“You won’t die, Steve,” he says in as gentle a voice as he can muster right now, because that's the only thing he knows.

And he won’t, right? People don’t just die. Not from taking a punch, not when they just graduated high school, not when they’re Steve Harrington. Right? 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay,” Steve breathes. “That’s good.” 

Eddie wants to hug him in that moment. He never knew that this was possible, wanting to hug Steve Harrington, wanting to wrap the blanket around him even tighter and keep him safe and convince him that he won’t die. 

And then the rest of what he said catches up with Eddie and leaves anger in its wake. 

“Hagan did that to you?” 

Steve nods. “Started going off about Billy.”

Eddie’s blood freezes at that name. "Hargrove?” 

Another nod, though Steve doesn’t look too happy about moving his head, and he groans quietly. “They were friends. Tommy is angry. Grieving. Con— Confused. He was just saying shit, like it’s my fault. And it is. Kinda. But Tommy’s, he, he’s... Just saying shit. And then he punched me. A lot. And he didn’t stop. And now… is now.” 

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes dumbly, carefully bandaging the glaring wound at his temple, needing to start somewhere. “Now is now.” His blood is still frozen as he tries very hard not to listen to Steve. Nothing that Harrington says has any right to matter anything to him; they live in two different worlds. If Harrington confesses to murder while severely concussed under Eddie’s watch, then there are no witnesses to drag either of them through the mud for it. Eddie is just gonna forget about it. Or try, anyway. “But you’re… Shit , Steve, you’re really hurt.” 

Steve blinks. Pauses. And Eddie thinks he’s lost him. But then, “Yeah. I’m always hurt.” 

And that, in this little voice, is like a gut punch. Because Eddie knows something about always hurt. “What?” 

“What?” 

There is ice in his veins as he asks, “Who’s hurting you, Steve?” 

Steve looks at him, opening his mouth once, twice, like he’s about to say something and Eddie holds his breath. But then Steve’s eyes droop and he shrinks in on himself a bit more. 

“Jus’ everyone, sometimes. God you don’t… You don’t even know.” 

Know what, Harrington? Eddie can barely breathe anymore.

“’M tired, Eddie,” Steve mumbles, closing his eyes. “Don’t wanna hurt anymore.” 

“Hey, hey, no!” Eddie reaches out, catching Steve’s head and preventing it from colliding with the floor as he’s slumping and falling over. 

And just like that, the panic is back, frantic but determined this time. He’s going to get help; there’s nothing he can do with his lousy first aid kit, not when Steve keeps going in and out of consciousness like that. Not when he can barely see anything or clean the wounds properly.

He’s going to get Steve to a hospital and allow them both to forget this ever happened. Because Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson don’t breathe the same air or share traumatic stories in a boathouse like this. 

He’ll get out of Steve’s hair the second the hospital doors close behind him, and get out of whatever trouble someone like Harrington could be in. Eddie doesn’t even want to know. He doesn't want to be part of his ghost story.

But as he’s scooping him up and helping him out of the damned boathouse, clumsily preventing him from stumbling over his own feet or tools or tarp or planks or whatever fucking shit is littering the floor of this godforsaken place, he can hear Steve speaking quietly. 

"Where‘re we going?"

And even though a second ago he was determined to take Steve to a hospital, there is only one place on Eddie's mind right now. Only one place he knows where he won't be scared anymore.

"Somewhere safe," he says, tightening his hold on the boy even though his hands are shaking now, too. He looks over his shoulders the moment they're out of the boathouse, stupidly worried that whoever did this to Steve – Hagan, apparently – would still be around, would follow them and do the same shit to Eddie.

"Safe?"

"Safe."

"Okay," Steve sighs, like he believes him. Like he trusts him. Hell, they've never even spoken before, but something inside Eddie breaks at the little sigh, at the way Steve goes slack in his arms. And even more at the little, "Thanks."

If Eddie's eyes are filled with tears and the hands around the wheel are clenched so tight to hide the way they're shaking, then Steve is not conscious enough to comment on it.

(addendum 7 december) onwards to part 2

[themongrelcatcamehome-blog]

i am trying to break your heart pt.2

So, for this part... Basically it's Sevika and Cait's smut. Please read the tags first. This story was in my head for days. Hope you guys enjoy it.

x

Synopsis: Over a month has passed since Caitlyn and Vi ended their relationship, yet Caitlyn couldn’t find a reason to celebrate Jinx's capture. Despite it being a huge day for Piltover and the Enforcers, Caitlyn only wanted to go home, but someone had another plans for ther.

Tags and Warnings: porn with plot, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, dom/sub, face fucking, face sitting, degradation kink, power play, smoking, drinking, tribbing, dry humping, abduction, caitlyn with sevika, strong language and i don't know what else to put here, i'm sorry.

__________________________________________________________

The Commander had left the precinct a few minutes earlier. She decided to walk home. The route was short, and she didn’t want to feel nauseous driving. As she turned onto the street that led to Municipal Park, her house came into view. Caitlyn heard the rustling of leaves coming from inside the park, a sound too loud to be caused by an animal. She straightened her posture, unfastened her holster, and walked toward the noise with her right hand on her weapon. The park gate was closed. Caitlyn checked the latch and confirmed it was locked. She heard a metallic clanging sound. Caitlyn quickened her pace toward the side of the gate, further from the street and closer to the fence and the sidewalk on the right of the park. Several vehicles were parked there, but no one was in sight.

It was a spot used to park the cars of lower-ranking officers who didn’t have official spaces in the precinct’s parking lot. There were no establishments on this street; it was a dead end. Caitlyn crouched to see if anyone was hiding between the first two vehicles. No feet. She moved a meter forward and peeked around the side of a car. Nothing. She turned on her chest flashlight, attached to her uniform. Nothing. Caitlyn drew her weapon from its holster. She was blinking rapidly.

Behind the third vehicle, she saw a shadow.

“Who’s there?” Caitlyn called out. No response.

Caitlyn grew concerned it might be a Firelight.

“Come out and there won’t be any trouble.” Still no response.

Caitlyn moved to the right to avoid being cornered against the park’s fence. With her weapon drawn, she began sidestepping with her back to the street. She pointed her gun toward the inside of the car, then behind it. She saw someone running to the fourth car, close to the fences.

“You’re running out of cars to hide behind. Show yourself and I won’t shoot.”

Part of the figure hiding behind the car was now visible. It was a Zaunite child, wearing a dirty hat splattered with fluorescent green stains.

“Isha?!”

Caitlyn couldn't react when she felt a blow to her left temple.

As her eyes began to open, Caitlyn felt a sharp pain in her head. Her vision was blurry and she was confused. When she tried to bring her hands to the source of the pain, she realized they were tied.

"What?! What is this?! Where am I?!"

The chair Caitlyn was tied to creaked as she moved from side to side. She only realized her feet were also tied when she toppled to the side. Her head almost hit the wooden floor, and she felt like she would faint again—until she felt a bunch of cold water splashing on her face. Caitlyn was terrified, bleeding, tied up, and nearly choked on the water. Her body was lifted off the ground and she closed her eyes to regain her senses. When she opened them, Sevika was standing in front of her.

- Hello, dear. Did you sleep well?  - You... Where am I? What's going on?  - You're in Zaun. Didn't you smell it?

Sevika laughed. She was leaning against a large table. The room was dark with colorful decorations. A glass of whiskey was beside her, and she was smoking a cigarette. Sevika was wearing a cloak over her mechanical arm, and her other arm showed she was dressed in a gray tank top. She wore dark gray pants and iron-toed boots. Her hair was half tied up, with a few strands falling over her face.

- I find it very funny how stupid you all are.

 Sevika continued laughing.

 - You really think you're clever. And that's why you're stupid. Do you understand, sweetie? - Just tell me what you want.

Caitlyn had regained her senses. Despite the pain, the cold water helped her see better and the adrenaline made her feel electric. Her shirt was soaked with blood and water. Caitlyn looked around and saw her gun resting on the table. There was no chance of solving this any other way but by talking.

- Your little informant must've delivered the message. I didn't want to wait for you to come here all armed, so I found you first. - Typical of a cowardly henchwoman. Why don't you untie me and we can talk as equals? - Oh... you talk tough for someone who's tied to my chair. - You don't intimidate me, Sevika. In fact… - Shut it, kitten. You and half of Zaun can call me whatever you want; I don't care. Now that you've caught Jinx, you all think you're so great, huh?

Sevika let out a loud laugh and stubbed out her cigarette on the table. She approached Caitlyn, crouched down to be at her level. Caitlyn was scared.

- How's that bitch-ass whining traitor? - What?!  - Your little girlfriend. The one who likes to play rough.

Caitlyn was trying to keep up with Sevika’s tone. She couldn't let her win.

- The one who tore off your arm and beat your ass more times than you can remember?

Sevika smirked. She pushed back the strands of hair falling over her face. She lifted Caitlyn's head, who was trying to pull away from Sevika's touch. Sevika reached for her cloak, took the end of it, and wiped Caitlyn's face. Caitlyn thought it was weird, but just watched how it would go from there.

- You know, sweetie, I wonder how a whiny little bitch like Vi managed to pull you off. 

Sevika stared at Caitlyn’s breasts. Caitlyn was now looking directly at Sevika's face. She was gorgeous, but Caitlyn despised her. Sevika spoke again.

- Do you have a thing for pitiful individuals? It's a shame I don't have a chance with you, then.

Caitlyn felt rage building up. Her face was hot with hatred, and her head kept throbbing in pain. While Sevika spoke, Caitlyn tried to free her hands without success. She lowered her gaze, laughed, and said:

- I heard that competition between women is a thing, but not in a million years would you win against her. Is that why you talk so much? To make up for your little ego… - Oh, I love when you talk like that. Keep going! - Look, I don't know what you're trying to do with this little show. Stop with the theatrics and just tell me what you want. - What a shame. I was starting to get turned on.

Sevika stood up and walked over to the table. Caitlyn followed her movements with her eyes. Sevika had a strong build. Her back was wide and the cloak gave her an almost mystical aura. Her thighs were strong and large. Caitlyn thought it was a shame that she was such a bad person. Sevika interrupted her thoughts.

- I think you're the type that bites.

Sevika lit another cigarette. The smoke covered her face for a moment and she blinked slowly. She had a smirk on her face when she licked her lips and said:

- You bite, darling?

By this point, Caitlyn's entire body was sore. She couldn't loosen the knot tying her hands at all. Her heart was racing, and she started coughing when Sevika blew smoke in her face and spoke again.

- Well, Hotstuff, here's the thing. Jinx's capture was great for Zaun. I wanted to thank you personally. That brat was out of control and I unfortunately grew fond of her. I think she’ll last longer locked up. She would’ve ended up dead or completely insane here and… - What a disgusting way to care about someone. Jinx is in solitary and will get the worst treatment possible as long as I live. - Does the crybaby know you talk like this about her sister?

Caitlyn felt her body tremble. She was cold, in pain and anxious. Fear washed over her. She thought about Vi’s face and feared she might never see her again.

- Vi is aware of what I think of Jinx.

- The dynamics of this love is pretty fucked up, sweetheart. Vi sleeps with someone who hates her, her origins, and her family. I think she has a humiliation fetish. Tell me... Does she fuck you while crying? Or even better! Do you fuck her while laughing?

Sevika’s words were the last straw. In one swift movement, Caitlyn tried to get up from the chair and slam it to the ground. The chair shattered, and Caitlyn fell. Her feet were still tied, but her hands were free. The knot had been tied to the back of the chair, which, when it broke, left just a small wooden stake. Caitlyn quickly wielded the wood in Sevika's direction.

Sevika clapped and placed the cigarette on the edge of the table. With almost dramatic flair, she removed her cloak, revealing her mechanical arm. Before Caitlyn could react, Sevika took the wood from her hand and struck the rope binding Caitlyn’s legs.

- Done, Commander. You're free. What will you do now?

Sevika crossed her arms, resting her human hand on the lever of her mechanical arm.

Caitlyn tried to stand but was dizzy. She fell back to the ground, lowered her head, and rested it on her knees.

- Sevika, if you're going to kill me, just do it. - I’m not going to kill you, sweet thing. I'm going to offer you a deal. - I don't want any deal with you. So now you have it. My answer is no. Cut the chase.

Sevika moved toward Caitlyn. She lifted the commander with a quick, firm motion, holding Caitlyn by the arms, pinning her against the wall.

- Commander, forget I exist. Can you do that? Get all your informants out of Zaun or I’ll kill them and send their remains to their families. You’ve already got what you want. Leave my people in peace. 

Caitlyn felt Sevika's breath near her left cheek. It smelled like cigarettes and alcohol. Her skin had a strong scent of wood and leather. Caitlyn said:

- Hand over Singed and all the shimmer production. Then I’ll give you your peace.

Caitlyn was trying to speak firmly despite her fear. She was completely vulnerable, pinned to a wall by someone much larger and taller than her. Sevika's figure was intimidating for many reasons. She thought about kicking Sevika in the groin, but her mechanical arm was too fast and she was probably resistant to pain.

- Caitlyn, Caitlyn… Don't you think you’re asking too much? I thought your megalomaniac phase was over.

It was the first time Sevika called Caitlyn by her name. The commander felt a shiver.

- I just want to lock up the people who harm Zaun. - How noble of you. But then you'd have to lock up yourself, your police, the Piltover councilors and every pathetic citizen of your city. You’re the ones poisoning us with the filth you produce. And you treat us like violent animals, huh? - My family built the ducts that filter your air! We do the best we can… - Best? You don’t know anything about Zaun. You think just because you sleep with a zaunite you know something about our people? - Sevika, it's the fourth time you mention my relationship with Violet…

Caitlyn quickly reflected before continuing. She remembered that Vi would probably be notified of her disappearance and come to her rescue. She needed to protect Vi. She resumed:

- For your information, we broke up. She ended things with me after I took on the task force that captured Jinx. If you’re interested, I...

Sevika interrupted:

- Wow! Good to know that Zaunite blood still runs in those veins.

Sevika moved away from Caitlyn. She thought about how much Vi must’ve suffered from Caitlyn's role in Jinx's capture. She reflected on how sad Vi's life must be in Piltover, even though she dated the commander. A wave of sadness, pity and a little bit of jealousy passed through Sevika's heart. She remembered when Vander brought her and Powder to live at the bar. Sevika had brought Mylo just a few days prior. Sevika shook her head trying to shake off these feelings. She needed to convince Caitlyn to leave her people alone once and for all.

Caitlyn, on the other hand, noticed the change in Sevika's expression. She was desperate and couldn’t identify which part of her speech had made Sevika change her expression. She thought it was the breakup for a second, but that would be a reach.

- Sevika, you are a woman who has lived through many things. And... What I’m asking for isn’t that different from the deal Vander had with us. Hand over Singed. - You think I know where Singed is?

The room started to heat up. Sevika heard a noise at the door. It was Isha.

Isha had a small weapon in her hands. She held the gun with one hand and gave Sevika a thumbs up with the another. Caitlyn felt saddened when she saw the girl.

Sevika ruffled Isha’s hair and said:

- Good job, little spark. You were great today. Mission accomplished. Now go to the hideout and...

Sevika crouched down to whisper something in the child’s ear, but Caitlyn overheard. Sevika told Isha to take a bath and that she could turn on the TV as long as she used headphones. "Don’t wait for me. Your bedtime stays the same, okay?"

Caitlyn was stunned. Sevika had adopted a sweet tone with Isha and Caitlyn noticed that she was smiling while talking to the girl.

For a moment, Caitlyn looked at Sevika differently. She realized how much that woman cared for her people and her place, even though the place was Zaun. The room where she has been was clean, everything was in place. Caitlyn briefly reflected on how the antagonism between the nations dehumanized the people of Zaun. She remembered Vi and wanted to cry, but held it back. A strange feeling overcame her now, almost an admiration for Sevika.

Sevika closed the door when Isha bounced out. She walked over to the table and continued:

- No one knows where Singed is. He doesn’t control anything, he’s insane. The shimmer is still controlled by the barons and there’s nothing I can do about it. I just want you to stop chasing my people. - Sevika, Singed is our target. Everything else is just collateral damage.

"Collateral damage, huh?"

Sevika lowered her eyes. A part of her hurt when she heard such terms. She thought about giving a big speech on the commander’s insensitivity, but she adopted her usual posture. She adjusted her body and sat down at the table with her legs spread apart. Her abdomen was exposed, and she noticed Caitlyn staring at it. Sevika needed to make things easier for herself. Was Caitlyn really staring at her body or she was wondering if she could take her down?

- Commander, just promise you’ll stop harassing the citizens. You want to do your job? Fine. Catch Singed and every baron. But stop harassing common, hard working people.

Caitlyn started to feel sick again. Her stomach was turning with mixed feelings. Sevika, despite her enormous figure, was very attractive. In a different way from Vi, but with similarities that made Caitlyn not completely despise Sevika. She noticed her six-pack and her beautiful muscles on the side of the abdomen. Her waistband was tight, pressing against her olive toned skin. Caitlyn was pondering on how to get herself out of that situation in the best way possible.

- Okay, Sevika. I’ll see what I can do about that. Can you get me a glass of water?

The atmosphere between them was now more pleasant. Caitlyn realized Sevika wasn't being violent anymore, she was being reasonable. Sevika opened a small fridge near the table and took out a tonic water. Her arms stretching to reach the bottle. The brand was unfamiliar, probably contraband from another country. She took a clean, cold glass from the fridge and poured the drink for Caitlyn.

Caitlyn thanked her from a distance. She was feeling better from the dizziness despite the pain. She made a head movement indicating if she could sit.

Sevika pulled a chair with her mechanical arm and turned her body to face Caitlyn, who was sitting down. The commander crossed her legs. She was in combat uniform: pants, boots, shirt, and jacket. Her beret was left in the car that had brought her to Zaun. Sevika stared at Caitlyn's legs. They were thin and long, but her thighs seemed strong. In other circumstances she would be very interested in her.

Caitlyn had a different kind of beauty compared to the women of Zaun. She was taller than usual and had astonishing blue eyes. Sevika observed as Caitlyn drank her tonic water.

- It’s really good, thanks. - You’re welcome. Recover as much as you need and one of my guys will escort you to the factory.

Sevika shook the thoughts away. Caitlyn despises her and she despises Caitlyn.

"One of my guys." Sevika said this while twisting a screw on her mechanical arm. Her human hand was very large, strong, and with visible veins. Caitlyn admired Sevika’s hands when she realized she was blushing.

- What’s the matter, commander? You’re not thinking of attacking me with that glass, are you?

Caitlyn barely managed to hide a smirk. Something about Sevika was sparking an unexpected desire to stay in that grim room a little longer.

- No, I won’t attack you. After all, your arm would kill me before I could do anything. - Oh, it would for sure. You have no idea what it can do…

Sevika gave a tap on her mechanical arm and raised her hand to her head. It was getting hot and sweat was starting to form on her forehead. Caitlyn drank the rest of the water in one gulp as she gazed at Sevika's arms. Her biceps were huge and they moved as she scratched her forehead. By now, she was trying to deny the thoughts running through her head. Did that arm help or hinder things?

“What the fuck was that?” Caitlyn thought before shaking the thoughts away.

The commander felt she needed a break.

- Sevika, I need to use the bathroom.

Sevika found the way Caitlyn spoke amusing—so polished. She stood up from the table and adjusted her pants. Her pants were so tight that they were slightly uncomfortable. She adjusted them by slipping her hand into the front pocket and pulling out a small key. Caitlyn was trying to look away, but couldn’t help looking at Sevika’s groin. Now the commander was sweating too, her head aching from the blow and her heart pounding from the sight of Sevika’s body.

As she handed the key to Caitlyn, Sevika lightly brushed her hand against the commander's. She noticed Caitlyn's skin was incredibly soft. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, Sevika realized the whole room smelled like Caitlyn: a sweet perfume mixed with the scent of blood and smoke.  

Caitlyn took the key from Sevika's hand. She noticed how rough Sevika's hands were, and her skin tingled at the touch. The commander asked herself silently what was going on and rushed to question:

- Where's the bathroom?

Sevika gestured with her chin toward a door at the end of the room, almost a hidden little hatch. “Oh my God, every move now is kinda hot”, Caitlyn thought as she saw Sevika swinging her legs while sitting on the table. Caitlyn needed to wash her face and get some of the blood off her clothes. She was uncomfortable with her own scent. 

Caitlyn stood up from the chair. Sevika didn’t move, only following Caitlyn with her eyes. The uniform pants highlighted her figure. The commander had a beautiful backside and she walked as if she owned the place. A wave of heat swept through Sevika and she instinctively squeezed her own thigh. “Commander hotstuff indeed…”, the zaunite thought.

Caitlyn knew Sevika was watching her as she walked toward the bathroom. The door latch was set a bit lower than usual, so she had to bend slightly to see the keyhole. Caitlyn wanted to glance back but didn’t know how she’d react to Sevika’s gaze. She quickly unlocked the door and entered the bathroom.  

Sevika chuckled. She found it delightful the way the commander bent down, revealing a tiny bit of her white underwear.  

Inside the bathroom, Caitlyn noticed how clean the small cubicle was. It was a tiny bathroom with no shower and a dim warm light. Caitlyn turned on the faucet and started washing her face, removing the dried blood on her cheek and drying off with a paper towel. She tied her hair with itself. She realized her jacket was ruined. She took it off, and the contrast between the clean part of her shirt and the bloodstained part annoyed her. She considered removing her shirt and just wearing the jacket, but it didn’t make sense since the jacket was even dirtier. Caitlyn decided to take off her shirt and try to wash the blood out. It was quick and useless, the stains only got a little lighter. The commander wasn’t wearing a bra. It was so hot in the cubicle that being topless was a relief. Caitlyn patted the wet shirt with a bunch of paper towels trying to dry it a little. Her breasts were bouncing with the swift moves and with all the agitation, her head started bleeding again. “I need to see a doctor”, she thought.

Sevika noticed Caitlyn was taking a while. She wasn’t worried about an escape attempt or anything like that—just curious. Her phone rang.  

“Talk to me.”  

“Sevika, we’re still in position. Our lookout hasn’t detected any movement in Piltover yet. No one noticed the commander’s absence.”  

“Good. Stay alert. You’ll be the one escorting her back.”  

“Roger.”  

Caitlyn stepped out of the bathroom. Sevika locked her phone and looked at her. Caitlyn had cleaned her face and tied her hair up. Her shirt was wet with pinkish bloodstains now and her jacket was folded over her arm. Caitlyn turned around, locked the bathroom door, and handed the key back to Sevika by throwing it. Sevika caught it in the air.

- Thank you. - You’re welcome. You can leave now. Do we have a deal? - I’ll do my best. - Your best won’t suffice, sweetheart. Do I have your word?

Caitlyn was trying to focus on leaving, but Sevika's presence was magnetic. Something about her was so interesting, the commander thought to herself “Almost like I wanted more”. The thoughts now didn’t seem so absurd as Caitlyn started to feel aroused.

Caitlyn extended her hand to Sevika. The zaunite’s face was illuminated by the faint light streaming into the room through the skylight. Caitlyn’s breasts were visible through her shirt now. Her nipples hard against the shirt’s fabric. Sevika clasped Caitlyn’s hand and held it, her gaze fixed on Caitlyn’s chest. The commander said:  

- Sevika, you’re not my type. Let go of me.

Sevika didn’t let go of Caitlyn’s hand when she tried to walk toward the exit. Sevika bit her lip and chuckled at Caitlyn’s remark. A wave of excitement now ran through Sevika’s body. She was so horny..

- Oh, sweetheart. I’m just using my eyes.

Caitlyn stood still, Sevika holding her hand. Was she really flirting with the woman who had kidnapped her just an hour ago? Caitlyn hadn’t had sex in over a month. She’d been buried in work and couldn’t imagine sleeping with anyone recently. But a body is still a body and the commander was not immune to physical longing.

- You can look, but let me go.

Sevika rose from the table. She was nearly two heads taller than Caitlyn. Standing directly in front of the commander, she said:  

- Or what, officer?

Sevika used a disdainful tone when calling Caitlyn "officer."

Caitlyn’s gaze now fell to Sevika’s chest. Broad, powerful shoulders, and her tank top clung tightly to her figure. Caitlyn wondered what Sevika’s breasts looked like. A heavy silence filled the room. Caitlyn wanted to deliver a sharp response, but an inexplicable wave of desire was overtaking her. Sevika was big, strong, and exuded a dangerously attractive confidence.  

Caitlyn didn't think much. "Fuck it", she thought and said:

- Sevika, you don’t know who you’re messing with.

Sevika was deeply aroused now. All she wanted was to kiss Caitlyn then and there, but she was curious to see how far the commander’s boldness would go.  

She tightened her grip on Caitlyn's hand, kept smiling as she pierced into the commander's eyes while resting on the table again. She crossed her legs, her thighs pressing against each other and Caitlyn lowered her gaze. Sevika said:

- I know exactly what you are. A spoiled little girl who thinks she knows everything about anything.

Caitlyn recognized it was a game. Sevika was trying to assert dominance over her. She wouldn’t be the first to try. Caitlyn slipped her hand free from Sevika’s grip, took a step forward, her breath quickening as she got closer:

- Afraid to find out that I can bite, darling?

Sevika felt a shiver run down her spine. Caitlyn smelled amazing. Her tied-back hair only accentuated her beauty. Caitlyn’s ears were flushed red. The warmth of her breath so close to Sevika’s cheek made her clit throb. But nothing was more exciting than realizing that Caitlyn thought she could have any control at that moment. Sevika decided to act.

- Commander, you talk too much for someone who’s about to sit on my face.

Sevika pulled Caitlyn to herself. She leaned her mechanical arm on the table and pulled the commander towards her with the other. She took advantage of her larger stature and wrapped Caitlyn's head in her hand. She had to control her strength so as not to hurt her neck when she wrapped her fingers around the end of Caitlyn's hair, near the nape. Caitlyn stood with a defiant look on her face, staring directly into Sevika's mouth, forcing her head in the opposite direction of Sevika's strength.

Sevika kissed Caitlyn, easily winning the struggle to see who was stronger. Her lips practically engulfed the commander’s. Sevika slipped her tongue between Caitlyn's lips and bit them together. Caitlyn leaned her whole body into Sevika. She put her right hand around the zaunite's waist while her left hand was on her face. Caitlyn was startled by how hard Sevika's waist was through her muscles. She felt the scars on her back and dug her nails into her hip.

Sevika had her arm around Caitlyn's waist now. Her hand wrapped perfectly around the curve of the commander's waist. The kiss got faster and sloppier. Sevika started biting Caitlyn's cheek, moving down to her chin and neck. She tore the buttons off the commander's shirt. Caitlyn let out a startled moan at Sevika's strength.

Caitlyn’s clit was hard now. 

Sevika sank her face into Caitlyn's right breast. She was amazed at how beautiful her tits were. Sevika bit Caitlyn's nipple and she let out a grunt.

Caitlyn was kissing Sevika's ear, enjoying every suckle the zaunite was giving her. She whispered in her ear:

- Take me to your room.

Sevika licked Caitlyn's left breast a little bit more now, bit the nipple harder and let go, which made Caitlyn's breast sway beautifully. She held the commander by the neck and said:

- I won't. You don't get to lay with me as an equal. I'll treat you like you deserve to be treated.

Caitlyn couldn't contain the wave of excitement that went through her body… What was that? Why the hell was she horny by being treated like that? Sevika was now pulling her hair down and Caitlyn's face was so hot that sweat was running down her neck. Sevika turned Caitlyn back to the table aggressively, the two of them exchanging positions. She finished ripping off Caitlyn's shirt, licked her sweat. Caitlyn stared back with a piercing gaze. Sevika was almost out of her mind now. Caitlyn rested both hands on the table, stuck out her ass a little and said:

- And how exactly do I deserve to be treated?

Sevika wrapped her cloak around part of the mechanical arm. She covered the piercing parts that could seriously injure Caitlyn and took off her own blouse. She was amazed by how Caitlyn was a freak.

Sevika's breasts were firm and perfectly contoured. Her crotch was pure muscle. Caitlyn turned to get a better look and her mouth filled with saliva. Caitlyn wanted to suck those breasts, unzip her pants and kneel for Sevika, all at the same time. She was so horny that she put her hand on her own pussy.

Sevika put her thumb to her lips when she saw Caitlyn like that. She took her hand to the zipper of her own pants and unzipped it.

- I'm going to treat you like the dirty little slut I know you are.

It was unbelievably hot being treated that way. Caitlyn was surprised at how much she liked that kind of treatment.

Sevika pulled the girl by the neck and sank her face down into her breasts. Sevika threw her head back in ecstasy.

Caitlyn sucked and nibbled on her left tit, licked the space between them and did the same on the other. Caitlyn's mouth was hot and she sucked with great desire. While she sucked, Caitlyn tried unsuccessfully to pull Sevika's pants down. They were still tight and Sevika wouldn't let her unzip them.

Sevika's mouth was full of saliva. She was whimpering“that's it” while Caitlyn sucked on her breasts. The commander finally gave up on unzipping the zaunite’s pants. Caitlyn moved her mouth up to her collarbones, licked them and spoke into her ear:

- You talk too much and do too little.

Sevika laughed. She pulled Caitlyn into a kiss again. Sevika was a ridiculously good kisser. Her hand was now on Caitlyn's pussy, over her pants. She made a few movements up and down Caitlyn's clit and realized that the commander was already very wet. 

Caitlyn had her hands on Sevika's ass. Her hips were huge and her ass was round and muscular. Caitlyn squeezed her ass and dug her nails into the zaunite's hips from time to time. 

Sevika lifted Caitlyn with absurd ease, holding her between her ass and thigh. With the help of her own thigh, she sat the girl down on the table. Caitlyn rested her elbows on the table and spread her legs. Sevika began to lick and bite her belly. Sevika's bite was strong, but not enough to hurt too much. She kissed Caitlyn's pussy over the pants and sniffed them. She hissed.

Sevika took two steps back and made a “come here” motion with her fingers. She said:

- Take off your pants and turn around.

Caitlyn got up from the table and undid a button on her pants. She was trying to prolong the moment, even though she really wanted to give it all to Sevika as soon as possible. She undid the second button. Sevika was watching with her thumb in her mouth. Her figure was stunning. The muscles in her forearm were prominent. Caitlyn wanted to feel what it was like to be fucked by that huge hand.

She undid the third button. She pulled down her pants a little so that part of her cunt showed. Sevika blinked slowly and nodded. Caitlyn now looked down at Sevika's pants. It was open a little lower. She could see Sevika's bush. Sevika's pubes were trimmed, close to her skin, it was a wonderful sight. Sevika noticed Caitlyn's gaze and put her hand on her hip. She started to pull down her pants. Caitlyn was fighting the urge to kneel and didn't even notice when she was already squatting. Sevika was visibly enjoying it. When Caitlyn was completely kneeling in front of Sevika's pussy, she moved closer, put Caitlyn's face against her crotch, lightly rubbed her mouth and nose against the beginning of her bush and said:

- Smell it. Feel it. Do you want it, you little whore?

Caitlyn was losing her mind. She needed to suck that woman off as soon as possible. Caitlyn never imagined that she would enjoy being treated like that, being cursed at. But it was all so delicious that she was in fact loving it. Caitlyn ran her hand down Sevika's thighs. Now she could smell her pussy. Her mouth filled with saliva as she squeezed the side of Sevika's thighs.

Sevika, in turn, grabbed Caitlyn by the hair. With her still kneeling, Sevika said:

- Stand up. Take off your pants and bend for me. I want to see your pussy from behind.

Caitlyn stood up, finished taking off her pants, stopped for a moment to let Sevika look. Caitlyn was fully naked now. Her cunt was completely shaved. She moved slowly, waiting. It felt weird. For a moment she was hoping Sevika would compliment her, but she just motioned with her fingers for her to turn around.

Caitlyn shrugged, she was disappointed. She rested both hands on the table and looked back at Sevika.

Sevika, still wearing her pants, approached. The commander felt her entire body stiff as Sevika’s body pressed against hers, pinning her against the table. Caitlyn's pussy was rubbing on the edge of it and her clit was so hard right now. It was almost impossible to control. Sevika continued pressing the commander, biting her back hard and squeezing her breasts. Caitlyn almost lost her balance as she tried to hold on to the table. Sevika bit Caitlyn's left ear and whispered:

- Spread your legs.

Caitlyn obeyed. Nothing made sense anymore. She was enjoying being treated with no intimacy. She spread her legs as wide as she could and leaned over the table. Her pussy was now almost dripping. Her legs trembled when she felt Sevika's hand on her ass. Caitlyn was longing for the zaunite’s hand inside her. Sevika, however, opened Caitlyn's buttcheeks and sank her face in. Sevika viciously licked Caitlyn's asshole. Movements up and down, biting the cheeks occasionally. Caitlyn moaned as she tried to lift herself more so that Sevika could suck her pussy. But Sevika refused, pulled away. Sevika opened Caitlyn's cheeks again and began to lick her asshole slowly this time. Caitlyn collapsed on the table, her whole body shaking. Sevika was spectacular. Every move Sevika made was better than the last. As Caitlyn enjoyed the licks, she felt Sevika's heavy, warm hand on her slit. Caitlyn lost all sense of space and knocked several items off the table. She put her hand back and touched Sevika's head. She was almost blacking out.

Sevika was masturbating Caitlyn with one finger while licking her asshole.

Caitlyn was moaning, standing on her tiptoes, her stomach flat on the table. When Sevika noticed Caitlyn's movements speeding up, her ass contracting faster, she took her mouth off Caitlyn's ass, her hand still on the commander's pussy.

Caitlyn gasped, she was ecstatic, this was the best thing she had ever experienced. The feeling of being eaten on a table by a stranger was very different and delicious. Sevika stopped masturbating Caitlyn. She ran her wet finger down Caitlyn's back and Caitlyn felt a shiver. Her fingers moved up to Caitlyn's shoulder. The commander was trembling, her legs staggering, her feet aching from being propped up for so long. A second later, Sevika removed her own pants with the help of her mechanical arm and pressed her pussy against Caitlyn's ass. Caitlyn felt Sevika's warmth, her pubes touching the bare skin of her butt.

The commander was almost cumming from the friction with the table. Sevika thrusted her hips onto the commander’s ass. Caitlyn instinctively began to move on Sevika's cunt. Sevika moaned. Her thick voice let out grunts. Sevika ran her hand through Caitlyn’s back and then her hair. She wanted to slap Caitlyn’s face, but wouldn’t do it from the back, so she choked the commander. Caitlyn whimpered, she wasn’t used to it. The zaunite’s grip was so strong that she had trouble breathing. Caitlyn focused on not passing out because that was too good. She then started grinding up and down on Sevika’s pussy while the zaunite choked her.

Caitlyn was very hot and Sevika stopped thrusting just to feel Caitlyn rub her ass. She let go of her neck. Caitlyn moved her hips up and down. She slid down Sevika's pussy slowly, then faster. She was breathing slower and deeper to catch more air. The zaunite crossed her arm over Caitlyn's body and squeezed her ass, pulling her closer. Sevika pressed her pussy against Caitlyn's ass and moved her hips to feel as much as possible. Caitlyn's buttcheeks were red with Sevika's grip and occasional slaps.

Dry humping was clearly one of Sevika’s favorites.

Caitlyn was experiencing something new. She'd never been denied for so long, treated like a fuck toy or being that physical, but it felt good. Sevika for some reason wasn't edging her. She stopped moving at just the right moment and it was as if Caitlyn's hard-on had reset.

Caitlyn lifted a little and looked back. Sevika had her hand on her own pussy, rubbing it. She looked at the commander and said:

- I can give you what you want by just looking at you.

“What does that mean?”, Caitlyn thought. Giving what?!

Caitlyn looked confused and Sevika laughed a little. She stopped rubbing her pussy. Her fingers wet with her own fluids. Sevika approached Caitlyn and rubbed her wet fingers on the commander’s mouth. She tasted Sevika for the first time and moaned. Her taste was very different, stronger. Sevika opened Caitlyn’s mouth and the girl started suckling her fingers.

When Sevika thought it was enough, she said:

- Oh, baby girl, you like that? 

Caitlyn nodded. Sevika resumed:

- I almost came in your beautiful ass, but I want to hear you moan my name first.

Caitlyn savored Sevika's taste again and whimpered a little. “What the fuck is happening?” the commander thought as she grew hornier with the zaunite’s treatment.

Sevika rubbed her pussy against Caitlyn's ass again and Caitlyn felt the weight of Sevika's mechanical arm on her back. It wasn't unpleasant, on the contrary. Sevika sucked her own two fingers and shoved them straight into the commander’s pussy.

Caitlyn's vision blurred. She felt a sharp pain because Sevika's movement was so fast, but it didn't last a second. Horniness quickly took the place of pain. Sevika thrusted deep. Her fingers were thick and skillful. The zaunite thrusted at a steady pace. Caitlyn moaned loudly, almost screaming. 

- Oh my God, oh my God!

Sevika felt her fingers getting wetter and wetter. Caitlyn was producing a river now, making a mess on Sevika’s hand. Caitlyn couldn't stop moving around on those fingers. They were rough in a delicious way and Sevika thrusted in without pity.

- Does that feel good, kitten?

Caitlyn felt her orgasm coming, she couldn’t control herself anymore. “When did I get so quick?” she thought while bouncing on Sevika’s fingers now. She tilted her head back on the zaunite shoulder.

- Yes! Yes! Sevika, I’m cumming!

Sevika groaned. She increased speed. She thrusted frantically now, hammering Caitlyn’s g-spot. Sevika's fingers were almost completely out of Caitlyn's pussy and back again in a perfect in-and-out motion. The zaunite removed her mechanical arm from Caitlyn's back when she realized that her body was arching. Caitlyn's back was arching. Caitlyn lifted her torso and rested her hands on the table. Her feet were firmly on the floor now. Sevika thrusted in hard, biting Caitlyn's back and saying through her teeth:

- Cum for me, baby girl. Let me hear it.

Caitlyn's breathing quickened, she threw her body forward one last time and let out a loud, long moan. She slipped her pussy deep into Sevika's fingers and squeezed them inside. She mewled softly while leaning back, landing in Sevika's chest, mewling just above the zaunite's chin:

- Sevika, oh my…

"Damn" was all Sevika could think. She also made a surprised face at how tight was Caitlyn's pussy grip. Caitlyn laid on the table, exhausted. Her body relaxing. She brought her hand up to her own ass and slowly withdrew Sevika's fingers.

Sevika sucked the two fingers that were inside Caitlyn.

Caitlyn couldn't think of anything else. She was shivering, sweating. Her whole body was lighter now. It was the best fuck she'd ever had with a stranger.

She got up from the table and realized that Sevika was sitting in the chair, lighting a cigarette, naked.

Caitlyn smoothed her hair and leaned against the table. She didn't know what to say, she was confused. Why did she just sit down?

“Did she come?” Caitlyn thought. She didn't know anything about Sevika, didn’t know how to act after sex with her, so she went to the mini fridge and got another tonic water. Sevika smoked calmly. Her gaze was on Caitlyn. She watched the commander drink the water, her throat swallowing, her stomach moving. Everything about Caitlyn was beautiful, delicate. 

Caitlyn interrupted the silence.

- Well, I still have to sit on your face.

Sevika stubbed out her cigarette. She looked into Caitlyn's eyes and smirked. The zaunite’s hair was now glued to her forehead. She was breathing heavily. She wanted to touch Caitlyn again so badly, but she wasn't willing to give up on the little game they've been playing so far.

- I know you're used to being in charge, but not here. Here you are just a…

Before Sevika could continue, Caitlyn was eager to join the game Sevika was playing as well. She didn’t held back:

- A whore, I know. I like being your whore.

Sevika hissed loudly. “What an interesting twist”, she thought. Caitlyn couldn’t believe that she was saying those things out loud.

Before Caitlyn could think of speaking anything else, Sevika told Caitlyn to approach using her finger with a sign of “come here”. Caitlyn obliged, still holding the water. She stopped in front of Sevika and said:

- I want to suck you off.

Sevika was wet and horny, but she didn't give in. 

- No, sweet thing. You will make me cum with your pussy. Looking at me.

Caitlyn kept being surprised by Sevika. She was different, almost strange. Caitlyn's mouth was salivating as she rested the bottle on the table and approached Sevika. Now seated, the zaunite's faced Caitlyn's navel. Sevika saw the fingerprints left on Caitlyn's waist. The commander lifted one leg, put one hand on the table and the other on Sevika's shoulder. She raised her hips as high as she could and put her cunt towards Sevika's mouth. She said:

- Get me started then.

Sevika was in heaven. Every part of her craved Caitlyn's body. Sevika pulled Caitlyn by the ass and started sucking her cunt. The commander's taste was smooth, almost sweet.

Caitlyn was still wet from her last orgasm. Caitlyn was surprised Sevika didn't vary her movements, she just sucked constantly. No licks. Caitlyn's entire clit was in Sevika's mouth, and she sucked the tip masterfully. Sevika felt Caitlyn's clit harden in her lips, she knew the pressure was right. She started sucking harder, faster. Caitlyn was breathing heavily, holding Sevika's head. 

The zaunite felt her chin getting wet as the fluids flowed out of Caitlyn.

Sevika slid down the chair, lying on the floor.

- Sit on my face, pretty thing.

Caitlyn spread her legs and rested her knees on the floor. She got on all fours in Sevika's mouth. She lowered herself a little to fit better and began to ride Sevika's mouth. Caitlyn was very horny and was already rubbing her pussy all over Sevika's face: chin, mouth, nose. The zaunite didn't seem to mind, she just kept sucking Caitlyn's clit frantically whenever she had the chance.

Caitlyn realized that she would soon cum at that rate. She tried to get out of Sevika’s face a few times, but she didn't want it to stop either. Sevika's mouth was big and swallowed her pussy completely. After three more attempts, Caitlyn pulled out of Sevika's face and sat directly on her cunt, her hands resting on Sevika's thighs as if she was restrained, she thrust her chest forward.

Sevika, her face all wet, didn't hesitate. She licked her lips, savoring Caitlyn's fluids and watched Caitlyn ride her pussy. Caitlyn wetting her as she rubbed herself against Sevika. The zaunite stretched her hand towards Caitlyn’s pussy and masturbated her while she was riding. Caitlyn closed her eyes and whimpered. "Oh my god, I can't cum first", she thought. Sevika was now spreading Caitlyn's fluids on her breasts, squeezing them. Every part that Sevika pressed, squeezed or bit got immediately red. Sevika pulled Caitlyn towards her. Caitlyn didn't stop riding, but her hips started to lose the pace. Caitlyn leaned to kiss her, pinning her chest onto Sevika's. The zaunite was groaning, biting Caitlyn's lips. She turned her face to the side and bit Caitlyn's arms. Caitlyn moaned and made a swift movement with her head trying to get her hair out of the way. Sevika noticed and pulled her hair, Caitlyn rode faster, her scalp was tingling and she let a loud moan out. Sevika couldn't think, she was just staring at Caitlyn's moves. "For fuck's sake" she thought. She did want to cum in Caitlyn's mouth now. Who knows, maybe afterwards?

Caitlyn rested her hands on Sevika's waist, squeezing it. Her pussy moved back and forth. Caitlyn even bounced up and down a little. Her face was stunning. She had a mischievous look on her face. She knew Sevika was loving it when she started to feel the spasms on the zaunite’s thigh.

Caitlyn rubbed her pussy three more times very slowly and turned onto her back. Now she had her hands on Sevika's shins now, their pussies pressed together. Caitlyn’'s clit rubbed against Sevika's bush. Caitlyn began to bounce in Sevika's cunt again, up and down. She looked back and moaned the words, her voice breaking from the movement:

- You wanted to see it from the back? Watch.

Sevika couldn't believe when she let a clear, loud moan, whimpering some words that Caitlyn unfortunately couldn’t hear.

(The words were: "I want to fucking tear you apart.")

Sevika grabbed Caitlyn's ass, squeezing and bouncing it harder.

Caitlyn's knees were killing her, but the adrenaline was extreme.

She was startled by a sudden slap on her ass. Sevika's hands were heavy. Caitlyn rode faster, Sevika lifted her butt off the ground and began to move her hips to match Caitlyn's movements. She was amazed by the commander figure riding her, her back was so white, her skin was smooth and her pussy was beautiful from behind too. The spasms increased, Caitlyn's ass spasmed as she felt Sevika strutter. The orgasm was beginning. She stopped moving and just pressed her pussy on Sevika. Sevika thrust and rubbed herself so fast now. She finally let out a long whimpering followed by a moan. She was squeezing Caitlyn's ass, didn't want her to move. When the commander felt the grip loosen, she was so proud of herself. Sevika was cumming the way she wanted.

Sevika stretched her body and let out a grunt. Her body trembled. Caitlyn held her position and rubbed slowly now. Sevika entire body trembled now, uncontrollably.

When she regained control of herself, Sevika slapped Caitlyn's ass prompting her to get up.

All of Sevika's actions were authoritarian. Caitlyn was now feeling used, almost like a toy. All the pride was gone, the relief vanished. She was getting up from her position, massaging her knees, her buttcheeks sore. Sevika stood up. Caitlyn saw her shadow and heard the zaunite saying:

- Now you kneel and drink it all.

Caitlyn was tired, let down by the subtle aggressiveness... But she obeyed. Sevika held Caitlyn tightly by the hair and shoved her face into her pussy. Caitlyn licked and swallowed all Sevika's cum. She looked up and instinctively opened her mouth. She was a brat, after all. Sevika rubbed the commander's face against her cunt again. Caitlyn kissed it while the zaunite lit another cigarette, an absurd scene that felt like a movie. Caitlyn’s head was racing again, she was starting to feel a little uncomfortable. When Sevika rubbed her cunt one last time on Caitlyn’s face, she noticed a shift on Caitlyn’s expression. She wanted so badly to keep going and maybe slap that pretty face, but she sat down in the chair and said:

- Good girl. I get it now.

Caitlyn was too exhausted to get up, so she just crawled over and sat next to Sevika, resting her head on her knees. She felt pathetic. Sevika wasn’t touching her. Still with the taste of Sevika in her mouth, she was feeling... disposable. An uncomfortable thing to feel. She was sitting on the floor, post-sex. Sevika didn't touch her at all even though Caitlyn instinctively caressed Sevika’s legs. The commander missed the post-sex cuddling, something that was so common with Vi.

“Vi... Oh, my god. What have I done?”

Sevika noticed when Caitlyn shook her head and covered her face with her hands. She was certain Caitlyn had never been through anything like this before and to make things worse she had a concussion. 

Sevika stubbed out her cigarette on the table again and gently stroked Caitlyn's head. She lifted her knee slightly, tilting Caitlyn's face toward her. 

Caitlyn’s expression was one of evident sadness and her slow blinking made it clear something was off. 

- Are you tired or planning to pass out? - My head hurts. Am I bleeding?

Sevika simply said "No" and observed Caitlyn lying there. The commander was so beautiful, so fragile. She brushed Caitlyn’s cheek and Caitlyn closed her eyes, tilting her head to savor the touch like a cat. For a brief moment Sevika felt a flutter in her stomach. What was that feeling? 

Sevika was a heartbreaker. She hooked up with whoever she wanted, whenever she wanted, but her best memories were always the ones with women that caught her off guard and Caitlyn had done exactly that. 

- You just need some stitches and a painkiller. Lucky for you, I’ve got both.

Sevika made a move to get up and Caitlyn lifted her head from Sevika's knee. Before things got awkward, Sevika grabbed the commander’s torn shirt and wrapped it around her. 

- I’ll grab the med kit.

Caitlyn felt slightly better. Even though she was sitting on the floor, exposed, that small moment of tenderness from Sevika had been enough. Still, something was off. She couldn’t focus on what could it be, she was tired and everything hurt. She decided to stand and sit in the chair Sevika had been using, curling up with her feet tucked beneath her.  

Sevika approached. Now wearing pants but still shirtless, she carried a small white box. 

- I’m gonna need you to help me, pretty thing.  

Caitlyn tilted her head, resting it on her knee, brushing her hair to the side opposite the wound. Sevika noticed it was just a small cut above Caitlyn's eyebrow. She grabbed a suture patch, some gauze and alcohol.  

- Give me your hand. I need you to pinch the wound so I can clean and stitch it.

Caitlyn had forgotten Sevika couldn’t do it alone and felt bad. She quickly sat up, but Sevika hushed her gently and guided Caitlyn's hand with care. 

- Right here. Feel that? It’s a pathetic little cut—it’ll heal in two days max. - My head is killing me, Sevika. - I know. If it were me, I wouldn’t have hit you soooo hard.

Sevika chuckled, teasing her. The cut was tiny, but she knew the pain came from the impact. Caitlyn’s head ached from the adrenaline and stress as well.  

Caitlyn pinched the wound as instructed. Sevika dripped alcohol into the cut and warned Caitlyn to close her eyes. Before a drop could reach her eye, Sevika leaned in and licked it away.  

- Did you just lick my blood?! - Whoa, kitten. Calm down. Don’t get me started again, please. It was just rubbing alcohol. Keep holding it.

Sevika, her chest bare, her mechanical arm limp at her side, rested her human arm on Caitlyn’s forehead. Caitlyn couldn’t help but notice the way Sevika’s muscles and chest moved as she worked. A sharp sting made Caitlyn gasp softly.  

- Ouch.

Sevika leaned back, placed the gauze on the table and gently held Caitlyn’s chin.  

- There you go, sweetheart. Ready for round two.

Caitlyn’s thoughts went adrift. Was that flirting again? She wasn’t in the mood.

Sevika however just opened the kit again, pulled out a pill and handed it to Caitlyn along with the water she hadn’t finished earlier. Caitlyn felt relief.

As Caitlyn swallowed the medication, Sevika picked up her tank top from the floor and slipped it on. She grabbed her phone, typing something and Caitlyn noticed the change in her expression as Sevika scrolled through her screen and sighed.  

- Well, darling, the cavalry’s on the way. - I’ll tell them I came willingly. Don’t worry. - I don’t need your protection, Commander. Nobody’s arresting me. - I could arrest you as soon as reinforcements arrive. You kidnapped Piltover’s commander, caused her a serious injury, tore her favorite shirt…

Caitlyn didn’t even notice the mood swing. Was she losing her mind? Something about just talking to Sevika made her feel better all of a sudden. 

Sevika teased her again.

- Oh, Commander. Are you going to tell them everything I did to you?

Caitlyn smiled; she was almost comfortable now. The pain was starting to subside and she let her legs drop. She looked at Sevika. Her pants were unbuttoned and her tank top was slightly askew. Caitlyn stood up from the chair, approached the zaunite. Sevika was reaching for another cigarette when Caitlyn plucked it from her hand.  

- This will kill you. - I breathe toxic waste as soon as I wake up. Every single day. I’m dying anyway.   - We have a plan to— - Commander, stop. Put your clothes on; your reinforcements should be here soon.

Caitlyn couldn’t understand Sevika’s demeanor out of nowhere. The fleeting sense of comfort evaporated. She realized she was in the enemy’s den trying to get physically closer to someone she should be arresting. Caitlyn tried to push away the confusion of it all. The sex had been good, the deal was made. So why was Sevika so cold? And more important... Why did she care so much? 

Caitlyn moved away from Sevika and picked up her clothes from the floor. She slipped her dirty jacket over the torn shirt, buttoning it up to her neck. The jacket was heavy, damp and stained with blood. As she put on her underwear, she noticed it was cold and wet too, but she slipped it on anyway, followed by her pants.  

She looked around for her boots but couldn’t find them.  

- Where are my shoes, Sevika? - Probably in the car. Let’s see how your hero plays this before we leave the room...

Caitlyn froze. “What?!”. She realized too late what was happening. Sevika was now fully dressed, her mechanical arm exposed and emitting sharp mechanical noises as its components adjusted. Sevika stood with her back to Caitlyn, facing the door. Caitlyn was just piecing it together when the door burst open violently and one of Sevika’s henchmen was thrown unconscious into the room.  

Vi stood in the doorway, poised to deliver another punch but stopped short when she saw Caitlyn.  

- Cait?! Are you okay? Come! Get behind me. Get away from this disgusting piece of shit!

______________________________________

End of part 2.

Breathe! Part 3 comes tomorrow.

Thank you so much for reading.

(also, please let me know if you have any suggestions. I'm new on fanfics in general and I don't want to screw this up.)

[smytherines]

Someone made a "what if they both fell" post the other day, and I can't stop thinking about it but also I don't want to swarm someone's post with my own unhinged ranting. So here's my little idk wish fulfillment fantasy--

Owen falls, and Curt catches him. But he isn't anchored to anything, and the force of the fall drags him along as well. They both fall onto the partially-closed safety barricade

Owen lands in a much worse position, he's bleeding and unconscious and has several severe injuries. Curt somehow lands a little bit better, he has a broken leg and a broken arm, but he's still conscious. He drags himself over to Owen, not sure if he's even still alive, desperately feeling for a pulse and trying to get a response out of him. Owen opens his eyes and reaches out for Curt, and they have a brief moment together. They're facing certain death, and with that knowledge of their impending doom they tell each other the things they always meant to say

Curt holds onto Owen as the lab explodes beneath them, and they both lose consciousness

Curt wakes up in a Russian cell, badly injured and unable to walk but alive. In some distant part of the building he can hear someone screaming in agony, and he knows in his heart that it's Owen. But naturally, their captors aren't going to allow the two spies who just blew up their weapons facility to have any contact with each other. They're too valuable as prisoners

Curt thrashes and threatens, and tries and tries and tries to get to Owen. But he can't. His injuries and the guards on his door won't allow it. But he knows Owen is in that building, somewhere, alive

Eventually, the US makes a trade-- Curt for a Russian spy they've been holding. Curt is heavily sedated because he keeps trying to escape and worsening his injuries. He wakes up in a military hospital, with Cynthia standing over him. He asks about Owen, and she changes the subject. But he keeps asking, keeps telling Cynthia that Owen is alive and they have to get him out of there. Eventually, Cynthia tells him-- in the kindest way she can manage-- that according to MI6 Owen died from his injuries

But Curt refuses to believe it. He knows that Owen is alive, and nobody can convince him otherwise. Cynthia tries to reason with him, tells him they aren't going to put any resources towards rescuing a corpse. So Curt quits. And he heals up enough to be able to walk. And then he sets out on his own mission to find his partner

Curt busts down the door of every Russian facility he can find, but there is no trace of Owen. Barb is trying to help him on the side, not because she believes him but because she cares enough about him to not let him take on a suicide mission on his own. She gently tries to convince him that Owen is gone

And Curt starts to think maybe he really is losing his mind. That maybe Owen died months ago, and he just can't accept it because he feels responsible for it. He convinces Barb to support him in one more mission, one more facility, and if he doesn't find a lead on Owen then he will come home

There's nothing. No sign of him.

Curt starts to break down, smashing up the random Russian office he's in, sobbing on the floor, confronted with the reality that maybe Owen really is dead. That this feeling he's been carrying in his gut ever since he was freed was wrong

And then, at his absolute lowest, when he finally has to accept that the man he loves is gone, he sees a piece of paper in that wrecked office with a familiar name on it-- Carvour, O

And another name he doesn't recognize-- Chimera

[jamespottersdaisy]

No pain will last evermore

Peter Parker x fem!reader

in which he is there for you

1.3k

a/n: based on a request. this is just a comfort fic for anyone going through a heartbreak

“Are you home or dead?” Peter's voice echoes around your home as he enters. 

You close your eyes at the sound, wishing he’d go back. You are not sure if it is the right moment to have a friend over.

Soon, the lock of the door is followed by his steps to the kitchen. The splash of pouring water tingles in your ear from there; he sure knows how to make himself comfortable.

“You didn't have water at home?” you murmur to yourself, albeit you know he won't hear it.

After he gulps down his water, you hear him pad around the house to find you. You bury yourself deeper under the blanket, closing your eyes to welcome the pitch black.

“Ah, not dead,” barging into the bedroom, he nods when he sees you rotting in bed.

“I could've been naked, you know,” your voice is weak, but even that can't prevent you from bantering with him.

“You would be if you’d ever get out of that thing,” he advances to the edge of the bed. Instead of sitting on it, he crouches down before you. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, and you flutter your eyes open to the sight of his beautiful face.

You hate that question. You hate how it has enough power to bring a tear into your eyes and a lump to your throat. You hate how the memories, thoughts, and hurts seem to revive after it echoes. 

Or maybe it’s Peter. Maybe it’s the tone his words wear as he speaks to you. Maybe it’s the tender light in his eyes that shines in your darkness when he looks at you.

You feel Peter’s hand reach your face, the soft skin caressing your cheek and hair. His touch is gentle, as if he is afraid to break you, and his eyes are filled with yearning and desperation. 

“What’s wrong?” he whispers this time.

“Nothing,” your voice breaks, and you shut your eyes. 

“C’mon now,” he sighs before standing up. 

His presence shifts from in front of you to behind you, and the bed creaks as he sits on it. You can guess that he leans on your bed frame while his fingers start scratching your back, drawing lines and figures to encourage you to face him. 

You don’t. Not yet. 

“I’m tired, Peter,” you mumble, and he hums.

“I’m not leaving if that’s what you mean,” his hand reaches your hair. It caresses strands of hair, twirling them around its fingers. 

That wasn’t what you meant.

You don’t want him to leave. Not when the cold, forlorn room of yours finally becomes a place worth breathing in. It holds too much heartbreak. Too much sadness and misery for a person alone. 

You are simply tired.

“Is this about that guy?” he asks. 

You don’t notice the slight change in his tone. 

You grimace when his memory comes up in your mind. Ill-founded blames and groundless complaints fill your mind once more. You can not get over it and can not comprehend the sudden difference in behaviour and treatment. 

It is not fair. It is not fair that you have to exhaust yourself to understand someone’s frantic decisions, and it certainly is not fair that your heart breaks into a million pieces after trusting a love you thought you had only for it to be clutched out of your palm.

“I thought everything was going well?”

You decide to face him at last. Who are you going to talk to if not your best friend?

“It was,” you say hoarsely, turning around in bed. “But then suddenly, a day later, he must’ve realised that he doesn’t love me anymore, and I’m a big burden for him.”

“You are a burden?” Peter raises his eyebrows. “Utter bullshit.”

“Apparently, I was responsible for all his problems, I was keeping him behind.” Your eyes look up at his face, a bit watery now that you voice the words thrown at you for no reason. “At least that’s what he said before cutting me off.”

“Makes no sense,” Peter frowns. “You didn’t have a fight, did you?”

“No,” you shake your head and let a tear run down your cheek. “Everything was normal, and suddenly it was not.”

Its pain is fresh. Still bleeding. 

Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt this much if you just knew why. Why would he suddenly want you out of his life?

However, even that was not offered. No logical reason was presented, thus, it was up to your mind to come up with one. And letting things into the imagination is a dangerous game.

The more you think, the more the ache sinks in your core, burning your heart with ignored questions. Your mind plays a game on you, crumbling down your confidence.

Perhaps you also miss the nice feeling of being loved. You don’t know if it was true or not anymore, but you surely enjoyed it like nothing else. To feel as if you were the prettiest girl for him, the most loved one in the world, and the most cherished one in his world.

Perhaps what you don’t understand is how that feeling could be a ruse.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Peter wipes the tear. “He was a jerk.”

You wince and attempt not to cry. “Not always.”

Peter’s heart sinks.

He thinks he’ll never get used to the sharp sting in his chest at the sight of you like this. Tears around the eyes he merits home, the sad melody your words seem to sing for the sake of someone who, in his opinion, never even deserves your love.

It breaks him, deems him helpless, desperate, and miserable to not be able to take the pain, wipe the tear, and pull the sadness away. 

“Come here,” he moves his arm to beckon you to come closer. You don’t waste a second, propping yourself up to crawl next to him. 

“There we go,” he smiles as you nestle against his chest. His arms wrap around you tight, pulling you close for you to feel at ease.

“I just don’t understand what went wrong,” your words are muffled. “Did I do–”

“Hey, hey, no, don’t do that,” Peter cuts you, “Don’t start looking for a fault in yourself. You know it’s not true.”

“Then why?” 

“I don’t know, but he is a moron for letting you go,” he shakes his head before kissing your hair. “Anyone would kill to be with a girl like you.”

You chuckle weakly, thinking how he is saying all those words to make you feel better. 

“I mean it, don’t laugh.”

“You’re so corny.”

Peter laughs with you.

The silence dawns around the room, but contrary to before it is a safe and peaceful one. The kind that lets you know everything will be alright in the end. No pain will last evermore.  

“I love you, you know that, right?” he whispers in your ear. What he means is totally different from what you understand. 

“I love you, too, Pete,” you sniff and snuggle a bit closer. “Thank you.”

A sigh leaves his chest. 

Maybe, just maybe, one day, you’ll see the love right in front of your eyes instead of crying for the bygone ones. Maybe you’ll learn to ignore the loud and shiny ones to notice the silent and patient one that blossoms with your laughs and withers with your tears. 

Maybe, one day, you’ll see that what you deserve is not the love that curls you in bed in tearing agony but the love that holds you in a tender caress.

Until that, he is willing to let your tears drown him if that’s what it means to have you in his arms. 

“You wanna cry and wail or go and make popcorn with me while I choose the movie?”

“Who said you would choose the movie?”

this was a bit specific request, but i know there are a lot of people out there going through something similar. just letting you know, you deserve a lot better than the treatment you are getting.

thank you for reading and let me know what you think!

[authorred]

His Hunter, Her Doctor | Li Shen/Zayne x fem!Reader | Love and Deepspace | NSFW

Preface: There are many ways you and Zayne benefit and better each other; like a yin and yang there are components to each of you that fit the other like a puzzle waiting to be completed.

Someone please--PLEASE LET ME HAVE THIS MAN'S HAND IN MARRIAGE I AM GNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE

This will definitely be NSFW (18+) so minors DNI (do not interact). Unless you do, which in that case I refuse to be held responsible for the content you consume.

Warning(s): NSFW content sprinkled in

His hunter is strong and resilient. Even when she limps into his office at Akso Hospital she acts as if she isn’t bleeding from several cuts and lacerations on her body. Even when tired and exhausted she never runs from a fight or backs down. Often times, that’s gotten her into life or death situations, and he becomes a worried mother over her. But he has faith that she will leave the battle—perhaps not unscathed, but alive.

Her doctor is considerate and calculating. Every move is carefully planned; arranged like a chess match. His brain, so brilliant and intuitive, makes easy decisions and weighs the benefits and risks to each one. Although his way of thinking can be seen as stiff or unmoving, she does her best to open his mind to new perspectives and ways of thinking.

His hunter is stubborn and reckless. Despite attempts to get her to slow down and tend to her wounds--however minor--she disregards them and continues to take missions. She can't sit still, she can't relax. She has to be moving and doing something--if not missions, then hanging out with Tara or someone else. Her issues sleeping catch up to her sometimes and to combat that, she goes on missions instead of confiding with medical professionals.

Her doctor is distant and scared. He's scared to love her because of his curse, and he's distant because he's scared of the unknown. He's scared that her syndrome will take her away from him before he gets a chance to show her his love. He's distant because he doesn't know how to show love. Little gifts, quality time, and words of (limited) affection are all he can offer currently. He tries his best--he wants to love her; he wouldn't be doing what he's doing if he didn't.

His hunter is teasing and bold. Constantly joking with him and playfully attempting to banter with him. Though he responds in more or less pragmatic or less-than-stellar retorts, she still finds it amusing, and enjoys when he gets playful back. His little smirk, subtle gestures, the glint in his eyes; it makes her heart skip a beat, a warmth spread through her chest. There is still a wall between them--a thin wall, but a wall, nonetheless. His hunter wants to break through it.

Her doctor is a pleaser. Looking for her approval, silent or verbal. Everything he does is for her. He doesn't need validation, but he does need to know that she's happy, content, safe. He'll act like a mother, not because he doesn't have faith, but because he's scared. If he loses her, he'll have nothing. Her doctor will always care for her, medically or otherwise. He'll always do things with her to make her happy, to see her smile at him with those glittering eyes.

His hunter is a leading force. Guiding and gentle, but decisive and quick. When his hunter has him lying on the bed, tie loose and clothes wrinkled and messy, they both know she has what she wants in the palm of her hand. When her lips trail up his neck and he has to bite back gasps, he knows he's too far gone. His hunter knows his weak spots. When she trails her hands down his shoulders, arms, and interlaces their hands, he knows he's under her lead. Her guidance.

Her doctor is pliable and soft under her hands. His built body giving way to her firm grip and hot lips. She's whispering praise and admiration against his skin, kissing every scar on his hand and wrist in reverence and adoration. His skin flushes a beautiful red and she takes that opportunity to tease him, making him turn his head away in slight embarrassment at his own body's response.

His hunter tastes like a mix of tangy and sweet. Her moans and affirmations like a sweet piano melody as he guides her to penultimate pleasure. It drives him crazy—hearing her, seeing her, feeling her. He wants nothing more than to seek out her pleasure for hours, lying between his hunter’s muscular legs that could probably break a rib of his if she kicked him.

Her doctor’s moans are sweet and savory, not happening often, but can be pulled from him with every kiss and touch. His back arches off of the bed with every roll of his hunter’s hips, large hands firmly wrapping her waist in reverence and pleasure. His body flushes with pleasure, skin turning a pretty red to match the lovebites littered around.

[bardic-inspo]

OC Patron Saint Game

Ty for the tags @astarionancuntnin, @locallegume, and @nyx-knox!! 💜

Take this uquiz as your OC(s) and see what they would be the patron saint of!

patron saint of blood

patron saint of the life that flows through our bodies. patron saint of violence. patron saint of love. something that does not watch over but exists within: not for protection but for vitality. there is no passion without a beating heart at its core. when that heart breaks open, someone has to be responsible for what it bleeds.

Tagging in turn: @shinyredgloss, @blackjackkent, @charmandabear, @kirahlene, @mercymaker, @vspin, @zekeen, @coreene and whoever else would like to do this! No pressure if you'd rather not.

[olath124]

Blorbo Saint

Got tagged by @kdval thank you!

Rules: we're doing this quiz for our OCs. As many as you like.

Patron saint of martyrs

The patron saint of those who died to be like you. Maybe you died to be like them too: but at the end of it, you weren't like them. Patron saint of tragedy. Saint of saints. It's you who holds the hands of the holy dead, and you who has to answer: what do they do if they regretted it?

Patron saint of blood

Patron saint of the life that flows through our bodies. Patron saint of violence. Patron saint of love. Something that does not watch over but exists within: not for protection but for vitality. There is no passion without a beating heart at its core. When that heart breaks open, someone has to be responsible for what it bleeds.

Tagging without pressure: @barghest-ripperdoc @blackrevell @streetkid-named-desire @astellehope

[ruvviks]

// ocs as patron saints. [x]

tagged by; @katsigian, @deadrlngers and @devilbrakers, thank you so much!!

tagging; @mojaves, @dickytwister, @ordinarymaine, @claudiawolf and YOU!

– PATRON SAINT OF RELICS.

patron saint of remembering. patron saint of holding something close. patron saint of holding on for too long. for a saint, a relic is often a part of the body, kept for some physical memento of their holiness. they are all in your hands, now: does it feel like remembrance? does it feel sanctified? are the dust and blood as precious as they're supposed to be?

hindsight carries the gun of his deceased father, the last memory he holds of the past and of what used to be his family; he is alone, a vessel for all that used to be, carrying the burden of remembrance like a chain around his neck. he has made himself easily digestible, to fit in, to not stand out; yet the past clings to him tighter than the present and forces him on his knees, forced to worship a twisted and faux idyllic retelling of a place he can no longer get back to.

– PATRON SAINT OF HEARTBREAK.

not of comfort. not of condolences. there is a heart and there is a fissure, a fracture, something that starts to splinter and break open. you're the patron saint of the way a heart is rent open. the way it tears itself apart. patron saint of the rift. patron saint of the gash. when they say to "open your heart" to somebody, you are the patron saint of bleeding out.

erytheia is a grave domain cleric, and has witnessed more burials in her lifetime than any being ever should. she has seen the countless ways in which the best of her abilities still did not suffice, her healing more than often merely prolonging a life rather than saving it; and she carries the consequences of it wherever she goes, the faces of those who were left behind, the broken hearts and wails of sorrow like a symphony in the dead of night, chasing after the trail of blood left by her bleeding heart.

– PATRON SAINT OF BLOOD.

patron saint of the life that flows through our bodies. patron saint of violence. patron saint of love. something that does not watch over but exists within: not for protection but for vitality. there is no passion without a beating heart at its core. when that heart breaks open, someone has to be responsible for what it bleeds.

juniper is full of life, full of passion. her heart hungers and beats viciously within her ribcage, threatening to burst out; all of which shows in her unexpected ferocity in battle, as well as in the way her hands hold the waist of her lover, whoever is within her reach when her desire threatens to spill over. a mouth that kisses as much as it bites, and teeth that graze vulnerable skin and dig into tender flesh; she is a predator, and gods save whoever becomes her next prey.

[the-bi-space-ace]

Now that Blind Trust is complete I have a really angsty thought to leave you with that was spurred on by a comment on Ao3.

Under the cut because it is long, angsty, and talks about blood, injury, and possible death. Get ready for some whump.

At the end of Chapter 4 Hunter drags Crosshair onto the Marauder. The batch has no idea what Echo and Crosshair have been through only that Echo is critically injured, he’s bleeding, and he’s unconscious. He’s been hit. They need to get him stable and fast. Meanwhile Hunter has Crosshair who is screaming, sobbing, and begging to be let go. He has bandages wrapped around his eyes.

The batch doesn’t know what’s going on.

But they know they’re getting shot at and every second they spend trying to calm Crosshair - who is having quite the emotional meltdown - that’s one less second they have to tend to Echo who is actively dying. So they sedate him. And, truthfully, I think Crosshair would’ve been fine if they let him sit on the floor while Tech and Wrecker worked on getting Echo stable. I think he would’ve found a part of Echo to keep his hand on and stayed out of the way and been fine for the duration of their flight.

However, the batch doesn’t know this. They can’t be sure he won’t continue having this response and knock stuff over or hurt himself or someone else without meaning to. So they sedate him. And it’s not the nicest choice but it was the one they thought made the most sense at the time.

This got me thinking about how this must be the first time they’ve seen Crosshair cry in a really long time. He’s sobbing. He’s screaming. He’s clawing Hunter’s hands to get away. And he’s in such a state of panic that it must’ve made the rest of them start to panic in their own ways.

I don’t write the scene in the fic (I left it open bc of perspective but also bc I like letting people fill it in on their own) but I’ve always imagined that when Hunter carries a sedated Crosshair away and they’re no longer getting shot at Hunter goes back to sit with him. He can hear Tech and Wrecker working with Echo and he’s afraid for him but he hasn’t seen Crosshair cry in a long time. And he’s never seen him sob like that.

So Hunter sits with him. And he tries not to imagine what hell those two have just went through. He tries to listen in on how Echo is doing. He tries to keep it together.

And finally this comment. I love this comment. Thank you for this comment.

I do think Echo would scold them for sedating Crosshair in that moment. For not trying to explain to him what’s happening. He needed reassurance and they stripped that from him. And Echo would have words to say.

I’d like to imagine that it’s Crosshair who tells him about those last moments. He’s lying in Echo’s cot because he can’t stand being alone in the other room. And he has his head on Echo’s shoulder. And he just hasn’t talked much. So Echo asks. He asks and he doesn’t really expect an answer.

But after some light prodding Crosshair tells him. He says that he thought Echo had died. He thought he was gone and he lost it. After everything that happened and everything they did he lost it so bad he thought the world was ending. And then they sedated him and he was sure by the time he woke Echo would be gone and he’d never get the chance to say goodbye.

He wanted five minutes and they couldn’t give him that.

Echo’s heart breaks but his chest burns. He tightens his arm around Crosshair and reaffirms that they made it. The medics are healing them and everything is fine. But he doesn’t sleep much that night. When the medics come to take Crosshair for some testing Echo is left alone with the batch and he lets them have it.

Not really because they deserve it but because he can imagine how frightened and alone Crosshair must have felt. He knows the solitude and silence hurt physically, mentally, emotionally. And they didn’t even try to talk to him or explain. He didn’t have his eyes to guide him, to prove anything. They could’ve taken a few seconds to explain.

And they all look gutted. So distraught that Echo’s temper simmers long enough to hear their explanation.

They thought they were losing Echo. And Crosshair was so torn apart they were afraid it would break him to have to hear what they were doing to keep Echo alive. Afraid he’d hear Echo’s lungs collapse again and panic. Afraid he’d just be harmed further by listening.

And Hunter just looks destroyed. He hasn’t defended himself but he looks close to crying. So much closer than Echo has ever seen. So I think he makes Hunter sit on the edge of the cot so he can explain to him in detail how much of this wasn’t his fault. He’s trusted Hunter’s decisions before and he trusts them now even if he doesn’t always agree.

Because he knows how much it hurts to watch someone you love fall apart at the seams. It’s messy and leaves you feeling hollow and nothing you do really makes you feel better about it.

Echo will go into full protector mode when he finds out. He’ll lose his temper and demand an explanation. He still may not agree with the choice they made but he sees how hurt they are and will feel that tug to protect them too.

Because he loves them. All of them. And they never once stopped looking.

[terramous]

i promise you, i will bring you home

fandom: agatha all along relationship: agatha & teen word count: 2.9k title: secondhand serenade - why bad things happen bingo - barely conscious AO3

There’s ozone on Agatha’s tongue and bile burning at the back of it. The smouldering heat of whatever Teen just unleashed hangs heavily in the atmosphere. There’s a sizzling in the air of leftover magic, enough power to have knocked Agatha from her feet and leave her reeling. 

With a great deal of effort, Agatha manages to lift her head, blue leaf stuck to her cheek and undoubtedly many twigs in her hair. She should have packed a hairbrush for the road. 

Oh well, hindsight is 20/20.

She casts a look over to where she can pinpoint the source of the magic. At least approximately. Magic isn’t an exact science after all, if it was there would have been an easier way for Agatha to get her magic back that didn’t involve risking her life and the others’ on the road. 

Teen is still on his feet, miraculously, but Agatha can tell that something is off even from her current distance. He doesn’t move, his arms are jammed at his sides and he is staring blankly ahead of himself. He’s not even visibly panting like Agatha would expect from someone who just unleashed the motherlode of magical energy. 

She pushes herself up onto her elbows, it’s like shifting a bag of rocks, her every movement is dragged down by the imposing air and whatever effect Teen’s magic had on her. Everything spins for a few seconds, her axis tilted in response to the change in position.

There isn’t even time for Agatha to blink between when the spinning stops and when Teen moves. It’s a single heavy step, and then he stumbles. His feet catch him and he’s still upright but in the briefest flash his nose starts bleeding, dripping off of his chin and hungrily soaking a dark patch into the worn grey knit of his sweater. His body can’t handle it.

The magic is overloading him. 

Agatha has never seen it before herself but like any witch she knows it could happen and to be wary of it because very rarely do witches ever survive. Her heart leaps to her throat and for a split second she can’t figure out why, until the realisation dawns. She’s scared for him. 

He takes another heavy step but this time when he stumbles he doesn’t catch himself and just crashes to his knees. 

That spurs Agatha into motion, she forgets everything the magic is doing to her as she breaks through the haze and scrambles over to Teen, crossing the distance and finally seeing him up close. He’s deathly pale and barely breathing. 

“Hey, hey- look at me,” Agatha says, grabbing his head in her hands much like she did in the morgue trial. Even with Agatha on her knees in front of him, he just stares right through her. 

Unsure of what to do, Agatha moves one hand to tuck an errant curl behind his ear. She runs the same hand down the side of his neck feeling his hammering pulse under her thumb. A pulse that doesn’t match how still he is. 

His deep brown eyes flicker up slightly, just enough to meet her gaze. He still doesn’t speak. In contrast with his dark hair and eyes and the smear of eyeliner, his skin looks almost paper-white. 

“Billy?” Agatha tries, “Billy, come on.” 

With both of her hands on his upper arms, she is in prime position to feel when all of his muscles tense. Like iron under her fingers. 

That’s when the convulsions start. 

He falls heavily towards Agatha who catches him and eases him to the ground, positioning him on his side in the leaves. 

At first it just looks like he’s shivering but within seconds he’s almost thrashing. His jaw is clenched and she can see every muscle in his neck is taught underneath the pale skin. His teeth are loudly clacking together and his eyes are still open although more sclera is visible than iris, his eyes having mostly rolled up into his head. 

Agatha keeps a hand on his shoulder, keeping him on his side but there’s not much else she can do. She knows that she’s meant to time it but she didn’t have the foresight to bring a damn watch into the road so she can’t do anything but sit there with him. Stay with him when he’s vulnerable and needs someone. 

“It’s okay,” she says. He probably can’t hear her but it makes her feel better. He’s too old to be coaxed like a scared child but at the same time he is so young compared to Agatha. Too young to die on the road. “It’s going to be okay.” 

He is going to die here and Agatha is going to lie to him. 

Something in her chest tightens at the idea of leaving him here to be claimed by the road. He isn’t even a member of the coven, he just wanted his brother back. Maybe she will get lucky and she can at least take him out of the road with her, give him a resting place that not only the stupid and power-hungry can visit. 

With her free hand gripping her locket, she just looks around at the road. It’s purple skies and winding path, the trees contorted like they’re in pain and the path of blue leaves. It’s almost beautiful if you ignore the horrors that took place. All the lives lost. 

Perhaps once again Agatha would be the only one to leave the road. She could have sworn she was going to take Teen with her, take him back to his dull life in Eastview, but he wasn’t going to make it that far. 

Eventually the convulsions slow, the seizure tapers off, and he stills. 

He’s breathing heavily but he doesn’t wake. 

Carefully, Agatha wiggles Teen out of his hoodie and she bundles it up to put under his head. She runs her fingers through his hair before catching herself and snapping her hand back. She’s not his mother and he’s not her son. They were strangers before the road. 

Still, she sits with him. It’s like after he was stabbed and she waited for him to wake up. But this time there was no Jen to heal him with water and moonlight. Still, she won’t let Rio take him. 

Time passes slowly but Agatha carefully checks to make sure Teen is still breathing. Every time she feels the push of air as it runs over her fingertips it eases the ache in her chest by a little. 

The colour of the leaves begins to fade, from blue to grey. For what feels like the first time in a lifetime, Agatha looks away from Teen and up at their surroundings. The hue of the sky shifts and fades, turning to black. The stars glitter and blink out one by one. The moon disappears behind the clouds and no longer gives off enough light to illuminate every dip and curve of the road. The trees lose their leaves. The dirt becomes asphalt. 

The final trial is done. The road has let them leave. 

They’re on the road outside Agatha’s house. 

As if sensing the change in environment, Teen finally stirs. He groans and Agatha eagerly searches his face for any signs of consciousness. She finds his fluttering eyelids and furrowed brow. He’s awake. 

“Good morning, pet.” 

It takes a few more seconds for Teen to process her words. 

“Morning?” he grumbles, confused. 

“Or night, whichever you prefer,” she says with a smile. She never would have thought that she would be happy to be back here where she was hexxed for years and lost so much time to the scarlet witch. Only to return from the road with her dying son and a desperation to save him. 

Maybe if she walks the road again he can live. 

But who would she even take? Everyone who opened the road with her was dead. Rio was still alive but she would always be alive. There’s no stopping death. 

Teen rubs his face with a hand, smearing the blood across his cheek. “What happened?” 

Agatha shrugs, “we finished the road.” 

“What was at the end of it?” Teen asks. His voice is slow and heavy and he looks down at the blood on his fingers like he can’t quite figure out how it happened. Agatha wonders how much he remembers. 

Agatha holds her hand up and flicks her wrist. 

“Nothing. There was nothing at the end of the road,” she says.”

Teen drops his hand and actually looks at Agatha for the first time since he discharged all that magic. His brown eyes are big and doe-like and saturated in innocence. Agatha can’t help but feel like she ruined him. “Still no powers?”

She laughs. It’s a dry and hollow chuckle with no mirth. “I wouldn’t worry about that, you seem to have enough for the two of us.”

“Do I?” 

“Oh definitely,” she says. “You managed to throw Rio from the road. I don’t know how you did it but she’s going to be so pissed.” 

“I’m sorry,” Teen replies in a small voice. It’s the most frail she’s ever heard him sound. 

“Why are you sorry?” 

“I know you love her.”

Agatha doesn’t dignify that with a reply. She knows it’s true and so does he, hell, she’s sure even Herb knows by now. They were never really known for their subtlety. 

She pats her hands on her thighs and moves to stand. “We should probably head inside. It might be the middle of the night in a cul-de-sac but lying in the middle of the road is generally frowned upon regardless of the time of day.” 

As she stands, she extends a hand for Teen. He happily grabs it as he awkwardly finds his footing. Agatha has to grab his other arm to pull him up as he is still quite obviously drained from what transpired at the end of the road. He staggers but stands upright. 

Now that they’re face to face Agatha can see the faint red flush on his cheeks and the thin sheen of sweat all over his face. So much for hoping he’d be okay once they left the road.

The front door is still unlocked when they get to it but Agatha has to push against it with all her might to clear the couch barricading it from the inside. Teen’s touch, she assumes. 

By the time she clears enough room for the two of them to enter, she looks back at Teen who is leaning heavily on the porch railing, looking like he is about to collapse. Agatha’s heart pangs painfully in her chest but Teen is none the wiser. 

“Come on,” she says, waving for him to follow her. “I’ll get you a beer–wait, you’re underage. Tea? I don’t have tea–coffee?” 

Teen rolls his eyes but follows Agatha anyway. “It’s a bit late for coffee, don’t you think?” 

Agatha snorts and turns away from him again. “You’re sixteen. I doubt you go to sleep before dawn anyway.”

There’s a soft click as Teen shuts the door behind them. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” 

She tracks mud into the house courtesy of her filthy clothes thanks to Teen’s temper tantrum but she pays it no mind. When they get to the living room she gestures to the couch. “Sit.”

Teen looks like he wants to argue but bites his tongue and sits anyway. He looks like utter crap and his eyes fall shut almost as soon as he hits the cushions. Agatha worriedly taps his ankle with her foot. 

“Hmm?” Teen mumbles, opening his eyes again to give Agatha a half-hearted glare. He must be exhausted as the magic continues to ravage his body.

“Just making sure you’re not going to pass away on my couch.” She frames it like a joke but it’s not funny. Teen smiles anyway, amused.

Teen closes his eyes again and Agatha just stands in the middle of her living room feeling out of place. She doesn’t know what to do or what to say so she doesn’t do anything. 

“I’m going to shower,” she eventually says. There is mud dried in her hair and her clothes are stiff with it. 

Teen hums in acknowledgement but says nothing. 

Shaking out her stiff and mud-filled hair, she stalks out of the room. She regrets it as soon as she turns her back on Teen but she keeps walking. No use getting soft now. 

She strips off her muddy clothes in the entry of the laundry room and dumps them at her feet. She doesn’t have the energy to wash them tonight. 

The “Bohner Family Reunion” shirt is on the floor too, its red font sticking out even with only the light from the hallway to show it. The hex and the time before the road feels like it happened to someone else, she is a completely different person than she was when Teen broke her free. 

A shower is exactly what she needed. She lets the hot water unpull all the knotted muscles in her back as the water beats down on her skin. She pulls twigs and leaves from her hair as she lathers up the shampoo. It’s almost like meditating if her heart issn’t so heavy with loss. She feels like she’s been gutted like a fish. 

After her shower she stands in the middle of the small bathroom, wrapped in a towel. With a hand through the condensation on the mirror she can see her face. The harsh lighting of the bathroom carves out all the slopes and curves of her face and emphasises the bags under her eyes. The road was not kind to her, and yet she received the most of its mercy.

Teen is still sitting on the couch with his eyes closed when Agatha comes back down the stairs. She can see his chest rising and falling and lets out a sigh before turning to walk into the kitchen. 

True to her word she brews him a coffee. In a stupid mug left from when it was Ralph’s home that says in big black font “I’m not on drugs. I’m just weird.”. There’s a wonder how such a dumb design ever sold but then she remembers actually being around Ralph and it makes sense. 

While waiting for the coffee to brew she runs a handkerchief under the tap and wrings it out, leaving it damp and cold. 

With the coffee done, Agatha returns to the living room. She sets the mug down on a coaster and sits next to Teen with the handkerchief in hand. 

“Coffee,” she announces in a soft voice. It was just the two of them after all. The only two to leave the road. 

Teen blinks his eyes open and looks at her. He furrows his brows when he sees the damp cloth hovering close to his face. “What’s that for?” 

“The blood on your face,” Agatha says as she starts to dab the handkerchief along his jaw, watching as the blood smears and pulls away from his skin, red blossoming into the moisture of the white cloth. 

They sit there in silence for a bit, Teen with his eyes closed again and Agatha cleaning off his face. She knows that Rio said that he is not hers but regardless she still feels like he could be. Which doesn’t make sense because this kid has two sets of parents and she’s just a cruel and callous childless witch, but she has come to care for him. 

As Agatha finishes wiping up the blood she looks back over at Teen who appears to have been silently watching her for a while. 

“Thanks,” he says, albeit a little nervously. “I should probably get going. My parents must be worried about me.” 

Agatha’s heart hurts. “Why don’t you stay the night?” she hurriedly suggests. “Crash here to avoid falling asleep at the wheel. Safe driving and all.”

“Are you sure?”

She presses her lips into a tight line and nods. “Of course.” 

Teen offers her a small smile. “Okay then. We’ll have a sleepover.” 

“You can sleep in my bed,” Agatha suggests. “Better for those growing bones.” 

“I’m okay on the couch, I promise.” 

“It wasn’t a suggestion.” She was going to at least let him be comfortable. 

“Okay then,” he says, wiping his palms on the denim of his ripped jeans. This time he stands up unassisted and follows Agatha with heavy footsteps. 

He struggles to pull his sweater off so Agatha helps him, underneath is a black t-shirt with a bat printed on it and the words “Bela Lugosi’s Dead” scrawled across it. 

Agatha discards the sweater on the foot of the bed frame. Soon follow his jeans, that he outright refused to have assistance removing. 

The lamp is still a smashed mess on the floor but Agatha pays it no mind. She’ll clean it up tomorrow. 

Teen must notice Agatha’s near-smothering constant presence at his side but he doesn’t comment on it. He just lets her tuck him in and sit on the floor next to the bed, her back pressed against the mattress and her hands resting over her crossed legs. 

It doesn’t take long for Teen’s breathing to even out as he falls asleep. The exhaustion caught up with him. 

Agatha doesn’t sleep even though she’s beyond tired. She stays by his side until dawn creeps over the horizon and the warm glow melts through the window, bathing the broken pieces of the lamp in light. She doesn’t move even though there’s a crick in her neck and a pinch in her back. 

She is reminded of her many bedside vigils with Nicky in his final days. 

Maybe she can do right by Teen.

[cherrypikkins]

OC Patron Saint Quiz

was tagged by @omgkalyppso to take this here Quiz for an OC

@sakurabunnie @milesmilse @dazzlerazz @peachiehambo @edns @alienducky @givemeallyourpenny @wild-moss-art and literally anyone who sees this!!!

kitt: patron saint of blood

patron saint of the life that flows through our bodies. patron saint of violence. patron saint of love. something that does not watch over but exists within: not for protection but for vitality. there is no passion without a beating heart at its core. when that heart breaks open, someone has to be responsible for what it bleeds.

juni: patron saint of horror

you're the patron saint of the dawning moment of realization. the patron saint of comprehension, maybe. the patron saint of understanding. the patron saint of knowing exactly what's going to happen. of seeing clearly. of not being able to look away.

pixy: patron saint of creation

patron saint of explosions. patron saint of More. patron saint of something new entirely, something unfamiliar, something you can't recognize. was frankenstein's monster an abomination or had his like just never been seen before? you're the patron saint of all those new, beautiful things. you're the patron saint of the monsters, too.

[samuelroukin]

oc patron saint game

take this quiz for your ocs and find out what they'd be the patron saint of

tagged by @ferindencadash thank u 🫶

picked my current Main Boys and these are painfully accurate. man.jpg

ray: patron saint of houses

but not of homes. only the shells of what keeps us enclosed. houses can be decorated or well-built or crumbling or haunted but only a home can truly be warm; you are the patron saint of that lack.

chuck: patron saint of blood

patron saint of the life that flows through our bodies. patron saint of violence. patron saint of love. something that does not watch over but exists within: not for protection but for vitality. there is no passion without a beating heart at its core. when that heart breaks open, someone has to be responsible for what it bleeds.

moose: patron saint of bones

patron saint of frameworks. of structures. of solidity. patron saint of things that break. patron saint of things that are left behind. the bones survive long after the body, the building: what is there left for them, when the rest has gone? what do bones do, with nothing to hold around them? who holds the bones?

tagging @dutiful-wildcraft @meduseld @calicohyde only if you want ofc!!

[kreativewritin444]

back to me/ r.c

authors note:  hiii my lovelies, how have y’all been??  :)) i have been super busy and honestly my mindspace for awhile was just not there lol, so i took my break. slowly have i realized on here y’all have gone through a following of my transition as a person and a writer. for i write from experience and truth even though everythings fiction...

 anywhore my new thing is star wars atm totally in awe with everything so this may or may not caught some ideas up in it....

 summary// you were dating rafe, the boy chosen to fall

warnings// abuse, mention of murder, rafe lol also this is toxic

 you were walking down the side of the road, the sadness filled within your heart. everything was lost, rafe was out of control. after dating for a year you’d think you know a person.

 till you found out the truth.

it first started with the drug abuse. watching his character slowly change into someone you barely knew; especially the fights between his family. yet when sarah and john b went missing at sea, things changed with everyone. 

 he was accused of murder, and you so blindly trusted him. thinking not rafe... not possible. he would do a lot but murder?

you were hung up with rafe through it all, sometimes he did feel sad. most of the time he acted like she didn’t exist or that he cared, until she and john b came back. 

 that’s when everything slowly began to change for the worse. he said he was stepping up, going to be a bigger man. some rant about his family status being more serious. sarah gets back and things slowly start to be revealed. 

after one night, you escaped out the room leaving behind a passed out rafe. sarah met you face to face, before she pulls you in her room. her desperate plea to her case; you finally opening up about your side of things.

 now supposedly rafe shot sarah, is in on stealing the gold and even has gone off the fucking walls. this led you into a three day depression room sinkhole.

 until now where you are walking down the streets, tears streaming down your cheeks. this was a walk to clear your mind, after all you have been hiding from. stupid idea. the sun set so now it was street lights leading your way.

 a car passes by and you ignore it, wiping your tears. not paying attention your foot slips, body slipping forward. the feeling of your ankle twist makes your hiss, as your hands and knees were scraped up.

 “fuckin’ great.” you mumble to yourself, tired of this day. a heavy sigh escapes your lips as you push yourself up, noticing the blood along your knee. your back pocket starts vibrating.

 pulling out your phone, trying to avoid the harsh feeling along your palm. rafe cameron’s caller id appears across the screen. hesitating as you bite your lip, you wanted to hit the red button. you wanted to decline it.

 “hello?” your voice wasn’t exactly happy but it wasn’t just with him. your knee was bleeding while only your left hand really held scrapes. your ankle was sore but you knew not broken. as you didn’t hear a response, you focus in hearing rafe’s tense breathing over the phone.

 “where are you? what’s wrong?” his questions make you roll your eyes. “i am no where, and nothing i-i am fine.” you hate the way he knows you, even after all this shit. it hurt because you were still in love with someone who has headed down a path extremely dangerous.

 he scoffs, “tell me where you are, i’ll come get you.” you shake your head even though he couldn’t see that. “no! i mean no rafe, not right now. i need, i need-”

his voice cuts me off, sounding desperate almost. “don’t do that shit to me y/n, don’t tell me you need space.” 

your lips tremble, “rafe i don’t know what to do.” the confession was raw, pure, innocent. 

 you truly were defeated by your feelings and the fact of things. he went quiet for a moment before he lowers his voice. “let us talk, please?” he pauses for a moment.

“ let me come get you, i know you y/n. something has happened.” you almost wanted to laugh. “nothing has happened beside everything else that’s so obvious.” your voice cracks softly towards the end, making you want to curse yourself.

 “y/n, tell me where you are.”

 “i-” a defeated sigh escapes you, glancing around you notice a street sign. “i am on lotus street, i-i was walking and i tripped and fell.”

 you swore you heard him mumble something, “okay. i’m on the way. call me if anything happens.”

 you hang up, hobbling to sit along side the road. choosing some bricks to sit on. you didn’t even have a bag, but you see a nice big leaf on a tree nearby. getting up once more, heading over to it. you pull off a few leaves, the branch sways as you walk away.

 sitting back down, you sniffle softly as you wipe the blood trailing down your leg. biting your lip as you wipe around your knee as well.

 less than ten minutes, the familiar truck lights are seen coming down. you sit up straighter, lifting your hand up to block some of the light. he pulls up beside you before parking it on the side of the rode.

 he gets out rushing around the vehicle. you stand up quickly, nose contorting in pain, forgetting about your ankle in the moment. he steps closer but your hand flies up instinctively. he stops in his tracks, eyes meeting yours with a wild look.

 “y/n.”

 you shake your head at him, “you’ve lied to me rafe!” everything has been building up and now seeing him.

 “who told you that? sarah?” he tilts his head and you stare at him in pure awe. his reaction was just pure dumb and it angers you. “wh-what? it’s not about that rafe. you lied! you did things... you are changing.”

 your eyes trail on how his shirt was damp and he had a bruise near his jaw. “those fuckin’ pogues are turning you against me! bet they’re telling you all sorts of lies, huh?”

 “i don’t know who you are anymore rafe!” you wince as you step back.” th-the things you’ve done... the things you plan to do.” you sob out, and he takes in your appearance. how your fall was, how you were in pain. emotionally and physically.

 “just get in the truck y/n. we can talk about this somewhere else.” he tries to persuade you, but your head shakes for a moment. without a beat your hand clutches your chest, as if it would give some relief. to the weight that felt like it was crushing you inside out. as you were sure your heart was breaking.

 he wasn’t the person you knew anymore.

”oh my god, rafe. you almost killed your fuckin’ sister, you were accused of murdering pet-” he rushes forward pointing at you. his one hand wraps around your biceps, jerking you slightly.

 “don’t you ever say that shit again.” his finger now digging in your cheek, makes you scared. shoving his chest, watching him stumble back surprised for a moment.

 your chest heaves up and down, moving away from the bricks you were once sitting on. staring him fully on as tears blur your vision.

 “you could come back!” your voice cracks as you plea with him. “you can come back, come back with me.” please choose this, please choose to do things different.

 he shakes his head, “you know i can’t do that.” 

 your heart sinks, lips trembling. “why is that, rafe?” please don’t say it. you plead with yourself even though your stomach felt sick.

 “we got the gold, i can’t- i gotta’ go with my dad!” he shakes and you stare at him in horror. the final realization hitting, everything made your mind swirl.

 “rafe...” you look at him and tears stream down your face. you hated this. you hated him. you hated yourself. for not being able to help but want his embrace to comfort you in this.

 “you can do right, we can do right. we can figure this all out okay?” you try to ease on him, but his eyes glare into yours.

 “we could figure this all out, rafe. you can come back to me, before all this shit. be the old us? right?” he looks away from you, making your heart drop. “right rafe? you love me right? we can do right, give the gold back. get away from here!”

 now his attention is back to you. “did sarah or the pogues put you up to this?” he almost laughs and you shake your head desperately. “no! rafe i love you!”

you step closer to him, slowly due to your ankle. “rafe, this is insane. it’s gone too far with barry before a-and this now?”

 he shakes his head, “do you trust me y/n?” you wanted desperately to say yes. to forget everything, run away from the problems but you hesitated.

 his eyes go cold, “let me take you back home?” he makes it a question but it was more of a demand. you felt defeated, stranded in a forest with no compass.

 “wait.” you freeze hesitant of it all. coming more to your senses.

 he stops at the sound of your voice, turning to face you. “people who get in your way...” you trail off almost hesitant to say it. “they don’t end up well.”

 his head cocks to the side, “what do you mean by that y/n? you think i would hurt you?”

 “you didn’t say you loved me back.” the truth made you step back from him.  “i’m going to call someone else to get me, rafe.”

 “i love you, y/n. don’t you see? the goal involves you, i’ll always protect you!” he steps closer and you shake your head. your throat hurt from keeping the tears at bay, but as he gets the look of realization. the tears slide down your cheek.

“i don’t think i can trust you anymore rafe. you are going down a path that i-i don’t think i can follow.” your hand trembles as he glowers at you. “y/n... don’t turn away from me too.”

 your hands shakes as it comes up to your face for a moment, covering your mouth of the sob that escapes. the emotion in both your eyes was readable, from anyones point of view.

 “i love you rafe... please.” the desperate plea from your lips. you looking stupid begging for an unchangeable man, too well change.

 your phone lights up with sarahs name popping up, catching rafe’s attention. “liar!” he moves in a haste, snatching the phone. “no wait r-”

 he tosses it off into the grass somewhere, before snatching you up. he shoves you against the truck, the truck was off. the street light was farther down and it was dark. you two were in the dark.

 his hands wrap around your throat, your hands clawing at his hands. “r-afe.” you manage to choke out, as you start seeing spots. eyes rolling back he drops you backing up.

 you start coughing heavily, as the air starts to fill your lungs again. “oh my god.” it barely registers as you grip your throat desperately, as if it could ease the pain. “y/n,y/n... i am so sorry.”

 as you look back up at him, the view of the fading light barely shows his face. yet you made out the look on his. he didn’t look exactly sorry. he just didn’t look like the rafe you knew at all.

 “yo-you just...” it hurt to speak, but what you didn’t notice was when you fell. you hit your head, leaving your forehead dripping blood down your right cheeks. your hands touch the spot, making you wince as your eyes try to focus.

 the sight of your fingertips covered in blood makes your stomach churn. feeling lightheaded and unable to catch your breathe. 

 you desperately call out, “rafe...” he stares down at the wound in need of attention. one he caused in rage. “i’m scared.”

 spots fill your vision and everything starts to fade. the last thing you felt was rafe scooping you up.

[adversitybloomed]

— what are you the patron saint of ?

patron saint of blood

patron saint of the life that flows through our bodies. patron saint of violence. patron saint of love. something that does not watch over but exists within: not for protection but for vitality. there is no passion without a beating heart at its core. when that heart breaks open, someone has to be responsible for what it bleeds.

tagged by: @caracarnn + @luckhissoul (ty!) tagging: @battleguqin + @ghostlypath + @cuckoo-among-beasts - rest in tags bc tumblr be broken.

[forcenexus]

making you the patron saint of something

patron saint of blood

patron saint of the life that flows through our bodies. patron saint of violence. patron saint of love. something that does not watch over but exists within: not for protection but for vitality. there is no passion without a beating heart at its core. when that heart breaks open, someone has to be responsible for what it bleeds.

tagged by : @timeguardians tagging : @caebrera, @skysaunter, @valorums, @tapalslegacy, @techniiciian