#arcane caitvi

[orchidseason]

dom!caitvi ‹𝟹 how they punish you when you disobey them

caitvi x fem!reader

warnings ‹𝟹 word count 2.6k, FILTH, threesome, bratty sub!reader, impact play (ass, face, cunt), hair pulling (r!receiving), kissing, oral/face sitting (caitlyn!receiving), strap blow job (vi!receiving), strap in v (r!receiving), orgasm denial, derogatory, modern!au, allusion to more sex

You went to the club they’d specifically told you not to. You went with the friends they’d warned you about countless times. You wore that outfit they said you shouldn’t wear in public. You went against every command they’d ever given, sneaking out while they were asleep, fully aware you’d be in a world of trouble if they ever found out.

What brought it on? A bratty streak, perhaps. Or maybe a desire to see the frustration in their eyes—to watch as they looked at you with disdain. It ignited something inside you, something like adrenaline.

It was around two in the morning now—not that you were aware, too consumed by the way time flew when you were having fun. Too much fun, really; you almost forgot that tonight’s escape was strictly forbidden. The lights blinded you, and the music had surely blown your eardrums out—but you hadn’t stopped smiling. The bodies pressed around you, the heat building up and leaving a shiny layer of sweat on your skin as you danced in circles. The rhythm of the bass was distracting, almost a blurring vibration from the object buzzing on your side, tucked inside the waistband of your skirt. Took until you walked away from the dance floor to grab a drink of water that you were aware of your phone ringing. 

Once glance at the caller receipt and a chill runs down your back. Caitlyn Kiramman. 

The call rings through and just then do you notice the amount of times she’s called you–they’ve called you. You feel your heart race, gripping your phone tight as you move your way through the crowd to step somewhere quiet. With a quick sigh, you pick up when they call again.

You lean against a wall, breathing in a deep sigh, the weight of your decision finally hitting you.

You hit the green button just as it rings again.

"Hey, Cait," you say, your voice unsteady, even to your own ears.

"Are you aware of the time?" she says, her voice icy—too controlled. Too calm. A cold shiver runs through you.

You glance at your phone again. 2:36 a.m.

"I—" Your words catch in your throat, your heart racing with a mix of guilt and the adrenaline still humming through your veins. The excitement of the night is quickly replaced by the heavy weight of reality.

"Do you realize what you’ve done?" Caitlyn’s voice is the sharp crack of a whip, yet it carries a sense of something darker—a warning wrapped in cool detachment. You can feel the weight of her gaze even over the phone, the silence between her words stretching like a promise of something you’re not sure you can handle.

You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry. “I didn’t—"

“I know,” she interrupts, her voice like ice, but there’s something dangerous beneath it. 

The intensity in her words hits you like a punch to the gut, the reality of the situation fully crashing down. You’re no longer in control—Caitlyn is. You had your fun, and now you’re in for it.

"Look outside," Caitlyn commands, her voice steady but with a bite of authority that sends a shiver down your spine. "I have someone waiting outside for you."

Just as she’s said, your eyes glance outside the windows and there lies a car–the driver inside already making eye contact with you. Your stomach twists, the adrenaline from earlier now mixing with a rush of guilt. You knew this would come—knew the price for your defiance was inevitable.

"Now, before I have to come get you myself," she adds, a thread of danger lacing her words. The message is clear: she’s over it–and you’re sure Vi is too.

Taking a deep breath, you head toward the exit, your mind already racing with what’s to come. You don’t want to face either of them, but it’s far too late to turn back now. No worded apology will fix this.

The closer you get to the exit, the heavier your steps feel, as if the weight of your choices is pressing down on you with every movement. The music from inside the club feels like a distant echo now, swallowed by the pounding of your own heartbeat. Your mind flashes back to the night—your defiance, the rush, the adrenaline that now feels like a distant memory compared to the looming consequences you’re about to face.

You reach the door and step outside into the cool night air. The car is parked just a few feet away, the engine idling as the driver remains silent, staring straight ahead. The man sitting in the driver’s seat doesn’t need to say anything; you can tell from the way he’s watching you that Caitlyn’s already made it clear what he’s here for.

The car door opens for you, but you hesitate for a moment, glancing at the club one last time. You could run. You could try to get lost in the night, to make a break for it and leave everything behind. But deep down, you know better than to think you’d get away that easily.

With a resigned sigh, you step into the car. The door shuts with a soft thud, and the man pulls away from the curb without a word. The city lights blur past, and the car moves through the streets with an almost eerie quiet. The tension is palpable, and you know it’s only a matter of time before you reach them. The silence feels suffocating, the weight of the situation pressing down on you from all sides.

Every minute that passes is another reminder that you’re out of control, and the reality of what you’ve done is starting to sink in. They may not be here right now, but you know they’ve already made sure you’ll pay for this. The man driving doesn’t say a word, but you can feel the gravity of the moment in the way he steers the car, his focus unwavering.

It’s not until the car slows down that you realize where you are—outside your place. He opens the door for you, wishing you a goodnight before he drives off. You take a breath, trying to shake off the buzzing energy from the night, but it’s not quite as easy as you thought. You may have snuck away tonight—may have done what they told you not to do just to get a rise out of them—but now, stepping into the house, you can feel the weight of that decision hanging over you.

The living room comes into view, and there they are. Caitlyn’s lounging on the couch, perfectly poised, effortlessly elegant, head resting on her hand. Next to her is Vi—arms crossed, leaning casually against the wall, eyes glinting with something darker. Caitlyn looks up as you step in, her eyes immediately locking with yours and raises an eyebrow–Vi following. This was the moment you’ve been waiting for, this is what motivated you to have done the things you’ve done.

Caitlyn doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything at first, but her eyes never leave yours. The silence stretches, and for a moment, it feels like she’s waiting for you to speak first. To admit what you’ve done. But Caitlyn never rushes. She waits for you to come to her.

Vi, on the other hand, doesn’t have the patience for silence. Her arms uncross, and she steps forward, her eyes narrowing. “You think you’re clever, huh?” Her voice is low but sharp, full of frustration. She’s angry—so angry—but there’s something else in her eyes too. Something that only makes her more dangerous. "Sneaking out. Breaking the rules. You really thought you could get away with that?"

You meet her gaze, a smirk tugging at your lips. "Maybe I wanted to see if you’d catch me."

Vi’s jaw clenches, and for a moment, it looks like she’s about to step forward and do something—anything—but Caitlyn’s eyes flick to her, and Vi freezes. Caitlyn doesn’t have to speak. She doesn’t need to raise her voice to get people to listen. Her eyes look back to you, “get yourself to our room.”

It’s all she says, and now she waits for you to scurry away like the little mouse you were. And you do, one foot after another you make your way down the hallway. You know what to do once you’ve walked in, but instead of doing it–you make one last taunt by keeping the skimpy skirt and off the shoulder shirt outfit on. You hear them talking outside, hushed whispers–one sounding like a melody, the other sounding frustrated–heated. Ten minutes later and they’re entering the room, your body shuddering under their roaming eyes.

“Firstly, you remember your safeword–yeah? Repeat it to me.”

You pick at your nail, “red.”

“Secondly. Repeat all the ways you’ve disobeyed so you’re aware of why this is happening.”

Vi walks off for a moment, walking into the walk-in closet while Caitlyn stands there waiting–eyes steady on you.

“I snuck out, I wore a skimpy outfit, I went with friends you don't like, and I went to the bar you told me not to go to.”

Caitlyn hums, “how we’ve decided to punish you is as follows. One, you won’t be coming tonight. Two, you will receive ten slaps to your cunt. Three, we will be using you until we feel you’ve learned your lesson. Understood?”

You nod and Caitlyn’s quick to grab your jaw tight–pulling you to face her directly–a gasp leaving you. 

“Answer me” she says cooly.

“Yes,” you say, hands coming up to hold onto her wrist, “yes, I understand.”

Vi walks out then, strap settled on her waist. She maneuvers you onto your back, pushing your legs to either side of you–your short skirt riding up and revealing you bare to her. A huff escapes her at the sight, “such a fucking whore.”

She brings her hand down on your thigh, grinning at the gasp you let out. Her length slides between your thighs, rubbing just right on your clit. 

“I bet your cunts still molded to this dick,” she whispers, watching as you clench around nothing each time she slides her length past your hole and up to your clit. You grip the bed sheets, rolling your hips. Her hands come to grip your waist, holding you still. 

“Nuh uh, none of that.”

She moves her length away, her hand replacing where it once was–fingers circling your clit. Whines spill from your throat, pleasure building before she snaps her hand right down onto your cunt. All that pleasure slips away, the feeling now burning. Your eyes snap open, looking up at Vi. 

She’s rubbing your clit again, “count. What number was that?”

“One…”

She cracks her hand down again. “Two...” And again. “Three–!” And again. “F-four–!” Repeatedly until she's reached ten and your cunt’s swollen and red. She spreads your folds, “fuck–look at you. Turned on by that?”

You’re panting on the bed, chest rising and falling–happy you got that out of the way. Behind your head you hear the bedsheets rustle before Caitlyn’s straddled right over your head, glistening cunt right over your face. No words spoken as she grabs your hair and jerks your head forward onto her. You understand, licking a stripe up her–hearing her moan above you. It’s then that Vi pushes in, her length spreading you out wide. You momentarily stop eating Caitlyn out to cry out as she slowly drives each inch in. Caitlyn’s disapproving of you stopping, so in response she lowers her hips to push herself against your nose and lips again.

Vi takes notice and slaps your ass, “don’t get lazy. Eat her out.”

Your tongue works on her again, your moaning vibrating against her clit just right. Vi’s now nestled in you, grinding her hips up–tip of her pushing against that spongy part, the one that lets you see stars. With Vi fucking into you, and Caitlyn rubbing her wet cunt all over your tongue–you’re in heaven, mind floating away. You may have enjoyed the club for the time being, but this is where you feel you belong. 

Vi sets a pace, one that could be described as rough–bruising. It repeatedly hits that spot, one time you swear you saw white flash in your vision. You try your best to be consistent with Caitlyn, but at this point you just have your tongue spread–letting her work you how she wishes. She reaches her edge first, body suffocating you for a moment as she comes–thighs shaking on either side of your head. When she sits up, you gasp for air–sputtering on your moans as Vi continues to use you like a rag doll. She looks down at you, sweat trailing down her abs. She’s fucking you so good you’ve forgotton it’s a punishment and you weren’t allowed to come. 

She watches as your face begins to contort, and hears the way your breaths get higher pitched. Caitlyn does too and she angles herself–hand gripping your face to turn towards her. 

“Need to come don’t you, mm? Want to so badly? What is Vi fucking you so good?”

You nod at everything she’s saying and she connects her palm to your face–not too harshly but enough that it stings. She’s quick to grab your face again, forcing you to look deep into her eyes.

“Answer my questions, tell us. Or are you too much of a cock slut to think right now?”

You shake your head, “no! No, it–ah shit! It feels so good... thank you..”

Vi only hums in response. Caitlyn lets go of your face, rolling her eyes, “she’s too fucked out to give a good enough answer.”

She rests her hand on Vi’s hip, pressing a soft kiss to Vi’s cheek, “you can stop now, she’s had enough.”

Vi looks to Caitlyn, almost a little confused, “but I’ve just started–”

“I have other plans.”

Vi responds, pulling her length out despite your small protest. Now at this point your mind’s fuzzy, subspace having taken over–too consumed and focused on pleasure. All of what was bratty earlier is gone. And they know that. Caitlyn’s expression is amused as she speaks to Vi again, “have her suck you off. Do so until she’s teary eyed, letting you use her however, mm?”

Vi nods, leaning down to grip your hair, repeating to you, “hear that?”

You nod, “yes... yes, I heard her.”

“Then get on your knees.”

The blanket falls with you as you slide your body onto the ground, far-away eyes looking up into Vi’s. She slaps her length on the side of your cheek, chuckling at how your bottom lip lowers just slightly. 

“You get dicked down for four minutes and you’re already a mess,” she comments, teasing her tip between your lips.

Your eyes shut when she slides it all the way through, tip hitting the back of your throat. Already tears spring to your eyes, hands gripping at Vi’s thighs. Vi holds onto your hair tightly, moving your head up and down on her length–face fucking you. It’s absolutely hot. 

Caitlyn watches it from where she’s settled herself on one of the single-person couches in her room, watching the endeavor with a gleam in her eyes. The sounds of you swallowing her length, choking on it occasionally are the only sounds in the room–and it’s what the two of them want. For you to hear how embarrassingly whorish you are. 

Vi pulls you off her length with a harsh tug on your hair, and you look all the more wrecked. Your eyes are blotchy, lips red, tears trailing down your face, chest heaving air. Vi looks back to Caitlyn, “what do you think?”

Caitlyn hums, “no. not yet.” 

After a quick little kiss session, Vi leaning down to meet your lips for a bit–her length is being pushed right back between your lips, hips continuing their pace all the while Caitlyn’s lip quirks from where she sits.

caitvi x reader masterlist

[pepbutss]

some band au's from twt

[kingprincesscait]

just the two of them...

[mizuki-scarlet]

Need a oneshot of Vi experiencing actual sleep and being able to sleep in when she's with Caitlyn and she's so not used to it. Caitlyn doesn't even think about waking her up she just watches her sleep sometimes ;-;

She gets good food and good sleep without fearing about anything

[star-of-the-sea-16]

Cait: Is something burning? Vi, leaning seductively on the counter: Just my desire for you. Cait: Vi, the toaster is literally on fire.

[volatilebrat4103]

Broken cycles and fixed bonds (Part 5)

“Are you two planning on staying?”  Caitlyn’s eyes are hopeful as she looks to the couple.  “I would like to but ultimately it depends on her” Jinx looks down to Y/N’s still sleeping form, peacefully nuzzled against her.  “I could really use my sister around here” Caitlyn whispers heartfeltly, her eyes glossing over.  “I’m sure you both could, I know I need my sister around now” Jinx says with a smile directed at Vi who smiles in return, the feeling mutual.

“Although I’m not sure she is one for paperwork and meetings” Jinx tilts her head ever so slightly.  “You’ll be surprised how well she used to handle the family business with her mother, she was her mother’s prodigy” Tobius speaks up with a warm smile reminiscing.  “She insisted she would learn how to do everything so that one day when Caitlyn took over as the family head, she could assist her flawlessly” Tobius laughs with a shake of his head.  Caitlyn’s eyes sparkle with amusement, as she chuckles at her sister’s antics.

“She really was the responsible one between us.  I was the one who wanted to sneak out and have adventures.”  Vi laughs softly at Caitlyn’s memory, Jinx can only smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners.  Y/N stirs in her sleeps, and Jinx’s gaze immediately falls to her, a look of concern crossing her face. However, Y/N simply snuggles deeper into the blanket, a soft sigh escaping her lips.  Once she settles again, they continue their conversation.  “She was just as bad as you Caitlyn, don’t you worry” Tobius laughs.

“if she wasn’t with your mother doing an abundance of work” Tobius sniggers at his over exaggeration, “she was in the lab or getting up to mischief, sometimes worse than you might I add” he finishes with a laugh, “don’t forget sneaking out to go to the prescient to spar with Greyson”  Caitlyn chuckles now too as Jinx’s eyes light up with amusement, grinning at her girlfriend’s mischievous antics. “Sounds like we missed out on a lot of fun.” Vi jokes with a chuckle, shaking her head.  “I think we had a fair share of mischief in Piltover, definitely more than Cassandra wanted” Tobius’s laughter fades, turning to look at Y/N with a warm, nostalgic gaze.  “it’s nice to remember the good times, she’s been through so much…” His voice trails off and the room falls silent once more, the fire crackling being the only sound in the room.

“Perhaps I should go see Mel, maybe she can help with Y/N’s arcane abilities”  Caitlyn breaks the silence, thinking of Mel Madarda.  Jinx’s expression turned thoughtful before ultimately agreeing before her brows furrow, “wasn’t her mom that crazy warlord that attacked Piltover?” Jinx asks as everyone turns sombre remembering how Ambessa and the Noxus army attacked the city, sided with one of their own, Viktor.  They had all lost so much and so many that day, the room falls silent at the memory.

“as far as I’ve heard she’s got a good handle on her arcane abilities, perhaps she can help guide Y/N?  Help her embrace who and what she is”  Caitlyn speaks up through the gloomy air in the room.  “It’s worth a try” Tobius agrees.  “I will have to ask her to take up my position on the council during my absence, hopefully it will sway her into staying permanently”  Caitlyn’s voice hopeful as she looks to her sister’s sleeping form.  “Will she accept?”  Tobius turns to Caitlyn, his tone wary, “I’m hoping she will, she knows how to run the family business after all, nothing has truly changed in the years of her absence.” Caitlyn speaks confidently, she knows her sister, knows that her family will always be her number one priority.

“And maybe, just maybe, her girlfriend wouldn’t mind helping convince her?” Vi hints cautiously to Jinx who smiles and nods in return.  Jinx’s smile turns sly as she leans in, a mischievous glint in her eyes, “oh I think I can be very persuasive when I need to be” she winks with a smirk, Vi chuckles, a low, throaty sound, at the implication Tobius’s face turns a light shade of pink, clearing his throat in embarrassment. Caitlyn rolls her eyes good-naturedly, a small smile painted on her face.

“Maybe we better get everyone to bed, we can discuss this tomorrow” Tobius says as he begins to clear the tray of teacups.  Nodding in agreement, Vi stands up with Caitlyn, stretching her arms over her head.  “sounds like a plan to me, I’m beat”  Caitlyn hums in agreement before yawning, before turning her attention to Jinx who is still sat in the chair with a sleeping Y/N.  “Are you going to be alright or do you need help?”  Caitlyn questions looking to Jinx, there would be absolutely no way any of them would be able to carry her through to a room, however Jinx just smiles with a small shake of her head, “I’ve got her.”

She waits for everyone to file out of the room, biding goodnight to one another as she gently brushes a strand of hair out of Y/N’s face, “hey toots, lets get you to bed huh” Jinx whispers placing delicate kisses across her face whilst the latter groans in response, deciding to snuggle further into her lover’s side.  Jinx repeating the same action as Caitlyn stood in the doorway watching the interaction with a soft smile.  Jinx’s whispers grow softer, her kisses gentle as she coaxes Y/N into a more wakeful state.  “Come on sleepyhead…let’s get you to bed”  Y/N groggily opens her eyes, blinking slowly as she focuses on her girlfriend’s face, a small smile forming.  “Come on toots” Jinx guides the lethargic Kiramman through the house to the guest room, gently turning the handle and pushing the door open, once inside Y/N is quick to collapse on the bed and back into a deep sleep.

Jinx shakes her head at her girlfriend’s antics before looking around the dimly lit room before spotting their luggage in the corner.  She can’t help but smile at the woman, moving to brush a tendril of hair out of her face once more before placing a chaste kiss to he lips, “I love you” she whispers before standing once more.  Once the blue haired woman has found some comfortable clothes for both of them to ware to bed she is quick to strip Y/N, carefully redressing her in suitable sleep ware before doing the same with herself and carefully climbing into bed next to her.

Y/N is quick to pull Jinx flush against her sleeping form drawing a smile for her as she wraps her arms around her in return, settling into comfort as their grips tightened around one another.  The warmth and comfort they provide each other is quick to lull them into a peaceful sleep, the only sounds is the soft synchronised rhythm of their breathing.

Chapter summary  

Taglist:

@brocoliisscared

[caitlynsbiggestfan]

I hate when people assume that because i’m a top/dom caitlyn truther that I’m obsessed with the idea of bottom/sub mascs or butches. no i’m pushing my dom femme agenda but okay

[smthequeen104]

[pinkypastal]

Let's..... go lesbians?

[linaisbluepancake]

No monster's gonna get you when I'm here...

[orchidseason]

pirate!AU ✩‧₊˚ the stolen hummingbird [part 1/2]

𐙚 caitvi x f!reader

Kiramman, motivated by her hatred for VI’s sister, kidnaps you—the hummingbird—for your herbalist knowledge, and Vi, the theif she once shared a bond with. Consumed by revenge she drags them both into a dangerous web of conflict, and becomes blinded by how her quest for revenge is unraveling the very connections she’s desperately clinging to

warnings : word count 3.8, pirate captain!caitlyn, theif!vi, healer!r, enemies to lovers, injury, blood, loss of freedom/kidnapping, weapons, angst w comfort, side character death

You were known as the hummingbird.

Your knowledge and understanding of herbs, plants, flowers—it was unlike any other. Similar to a hummingbird, you flit from place to place, never in one place for too long. Your nickname precedes you, growing quite a reputation amongst the people. Those you have helped speaking good news, spreading word of your kindness. Those who even believe you are a myth, wishing to uncover who you are. All create talk, chatter that is ushered at tables in bars and whispered amongst alleyways.

Growing up, your parents were sick. The money crises caused you to be poor, unable to make enough to pay for medicine to help your parents. So, you took it upon yourself to create a way for them to live. It was built upon a passion to save them, help them as much as you can. It helped? You’re not fully sure, but one by one they unfortunately passed.

Herbs, plants, leaves, flowers. It never interested you. What did was the ability to help others, delay death even if it’s just another day. It started small, helping a family friend’s child. From there it was the bartender, a homeless man in an alleyway. From there, you were traveling to help someone’s aunt, friend, sometimes even their dog. You used it to heal. Seeing others smile when they realized a cut or wound or sickness, they had would be healed brought a smile to your own face. You know your parents smile down at you each time you save another. It became your job, maybe you’d consider it your destiny, your purpose.

Gulls’ Island is where you reside now. A client had a message sent to you, word of mouth. Two weeks ago, at a market someone had whispered the client’s location into your ear, having recognized you. So, like your title, you flit to their location. Now on the land, the sand under you as you walk ashore. It is night, lanterns lighting up the small town ahead of you. Their home resided on the dock; a boat parked nearby.

The chill of the air nipped at you as you grip your leather bag, hood over your head as you cross the wooden path. A few raps at their door and it opens, the person on the other side of the door looking distraught.

“Is it truly you? The one said to take away the sting?”

“Who is it that I’m assisting?”

The man opens the door fully, ushering you inside. It looks homey, the fireplace lit, and little trinkets settled around the room. You step inside, thankful for the fire as it warms you up. In the corner lies a table and a chair, on the chair lied a sick looking little kid. He had his forehead against the table, breathing shallow. You slip the cover off your head, stepping near him in caution.

“His symptoms?”

“Oh yes,” the man starts, “he’s not been eating or drinking regularly. Can’t keep it down that’s why. He seems to have a fever, headache.”

You hum, crouching on the floor and getting a closer look at his face. He’s sweating, a line dripping down his forehead. He’s shaking, fingers gripping the table.

Something feels off.

“And how long has he had these symptoms?”

“A week or so now?”

“I see,” you say and stand, eyes shifting around the room. There wasn’t a mess, it looked clean. No glass on the floor, or cuts in the wooden walls. You look back to the boy.

“Can you look up at me,” you ask softly.

He does and there’s tears in his eyes. Your expression hardens at the sight. The floor creaks behind you then and next you know you’re shoved against the wall. The man who had opened the door, explained the situation now had you pinned against the wall—a knife held at your throat. Your attention shifts from his weird expression to the woman who walks out from the bedroom, and your heart beating like a scared bunny in your chest.

Captian Kiramman.

You recognize her indigo shaded hair and eyepatch-clad eye from the pictures in the books you’ve seen and the hate posters around cities. The crew that she leads has a title that exponentially precedes yours. The Sapphire Pearl. Her stories are discussed in tragedies, her face only appearing in nightmares.

You keep your gaze steady, refusing to let your body betray you as Caitlyn’s eyes remain fixed on you. You don’t speak more, because you know there’s little point. Your hands stay still at your sides, fingers curled tightly, betraying the turmoil inside you.

She looks at you a second longer before nodding her head to the side and the man, gripping your arms in a tight bruising hold tugs you along with him. You look back to the little kid as you’re dragged out, seeing the cries escape him. Just in the other room lies his parents you presume, the bedroom where Caitlyn had been waiting. They’re tied, bound—and the sight makes your heart jump.

The man keeps a tight hold on your arm, the other holding the knife to your neck as they whip you out of the house and back onto the beach where you had only just arrived. The wind blows Caitlyn’s hair around that’s pulled back in a tight ponytail. Around the island and her ship comes into view. Settled aside an island in the distance, dark with no lights lit. You yourself couldn’t have seen it if it weren’t for a crew member pointing it out. You’re shove onto the smaller rowboat. Caitlyn sitting in it among you and a few crew members. As you’re seated, your wrists are maneuvered behind you and tied with a rope settled on the floor of the boat. Whoever tied them leaves no room, tying it to the point it hurts every time you move your wrists.

The ship as the distance grows smaller grows in size. The sheer volume bringing upon a fear within you. Just like before you’re shoved around, pulled by the same man, his hand gripping your tied hands and bringing you upon ship. They’re hundreds of people on board, their eyes on you as you’re brought on board.

You’re ushered into her Captian’s quarters. The door shuts behind you, hiding the three of you in privacy. Caitlyn leans back against her desk, and you’re held in front of her, no room to try anything.

She’s looking at you, expressionless, “the woman renowned for her assistance and healing?”

“If you want something, tell me your symptoms and I’ll hand you the ingredients for it and be on my way.

It made good sense to assume at first that she wants something you carry. A rare flower, a plant that’s only from a specific region.

“How considerate,” she says, “but the contents of your bag are not what I’m interested in, hummingbird. It’s you.”

She uncrosses her feet, heeled black boot stepping closer to you. Her eyes holding more than just simple curiosity, they’re dark and calculating. This isn’t a thievery of an item.

“Your skill, your knowledge. It’s your expertise I intend to claim, not your possessions.”

You take a deep breath to steel the way your body had a visceral response to such news. She continues, disconnected from the weight the situation holds.

“Until then, you’re to be held prisoner. Any act of rebellion will be punished.”

That’s the last word before she waves you off. It’s all a blur as you’re brought to the lower level and shoved inside a cell. The latch shuts above, and the rooms enclosed in darkness save for one lantern. You slide down onto the cold wood, chest heaving as you try and adapt to all that’s happened. Each time to try to take a deep breathe, all that you’re filled with is thick and oppressive air that smells of salt and sweat.

A jingle of chains behind you catches your attention. You turn your head only sideways, eyeing the cell across from yours in the corner of your eye. The swaying lantern’s light shifts onto her from time to time, lighting up the woman residing there.

She’s trying to keep it together, but you can see the tension in the way her muscles tighten, the way her hands clench into fists. Her hands are chained, not allowing her to go any further than the seated position she’s in. She’s furious, that much is obvious. Her eyes occasionally flicker to you, a mixture of anger and regret clouding in them. She’s not angry at Caitlyn. She’s angry at herself too.

Her voice is low and rough, but there’s an edge of vulnerability she can’t quite hide.

“Who the hell are you?”

No words are spoken as you turn your head fully to regard her silently for a long moment. There’s no need to rush an answer.

“I’m here, just like you.”

You let the silence settle between you, the words offering no explanation, no invitation to know more. It’s the bare minimum, and it’s all you’re willing to offer for now. The woman seems to consider whether to say more, then deicides against it.The tension is thick, but her guided silence says it all. You’re both here for a reason, a connection tying you all together. You both settle into a silence as the ship drifts away from shore.

You’re woken up with a start, your head lifting off the wall behind you. Three crew members come down. In a quick succession they have you in their grip as they bring you aboveboard. It’s the first time you’ve seen the sun in what—a week? Two weeks?

Caitlyn stands beside a huge table, maps and papers strewn across it. Her tight ponytail’s now loose, a sign of her anxiety and tearing her hand through her hand many times. You’re brought in as you were the night you were kidnapped. She doesn’t glance at you, eyes tired and closed off—focused solely on the map.

“What specially can you do? What all are you actually capable of? There’re rumors of your restorative infusions, one’s unlike anything one’s heard,” she stops her rambling, dragging a hand down her face, “What can do you do?”

She repeats, voice hoarse and said through gritted teeth.

“I heal.”

She shakes her head, mind working and thinking, “there needs to be more that you can do. As there’s one side of the coin, there’s the opposite,” she whispers like she’s come to a conclusion, like she’s had a brilliant idea, “I need you to make something that could kill.”

Goosebumps line your body.

“I can’t... I can’t do that.”

“You can do it. You’re capable of it. Once we arrive at this town, you are ordered to prepare it.”

“But it’s not what I do.”

She wasn’t listening, a hand waving at you to be thrown back into the cell after, rough hands of the crew shoving you. Vi, you’ve come to know her name over the past few days, focus is set on you as you’re brought back down. Her expression softens when it finds you.

“You, okay?”

“Fine.”

Vi’s eyebrows scrunch, “what did she want?”

You crouch onto the floor again, tired, “she ordered me to make something that could kill.”

It seems you’re still in shock. Your hands in front of you, shaking as you inspect them. Vi’s silent, but you can feel her frustration, her anger from where you sit. You look over the rough edges on your hands. Your hands are colder, harder to move from the cool of the water and little sunlight.

“It goes against everything I believe, Vi. I cannot make something in turn that will harm another. I can’t do that. I got into this to heal. Not... not whatever she’s planning.”

Vi’s listening, eyes stuck on the floor of her cell. She sighs, letting herself become vulnerable, honest with you.

“She’s after my sister,” she starts, “I knew her before all this. She changed when my sister killed her mom. She’s set on killing my sister. It’s the only thing on her mind. Believe me, I’ve tried to talk to her. She’s deaf to anything but revenge. The Caitlyn I knew is gone.”

Almost a month had passed.

You’ve grown used to the same walls, the same sounds of the waves hitting the sides of the ship. A few people have since been taken. Every cell has been filled. Your own cell had another woman chained across from you, making the space increasingly tighter.

After a month had passed you felt the first shift in the routined torture. It seemed the boat had come ashore. Ashford. That’s where you were. You knew since you had overheard a crew member discuss it.

It was a change, but true change didn’t happen until five days later. The sun rose and the sun set many times before it finally happened. Crew members came down again, opening the cell you sat in. Vi’s expression was dripping with poison as they dragged you up.

This is the third time you’ve seen Caitlyn. First was when she kidnapped you, second was when she commanded you go against all you’ve ever known, and now? She’s leaned back onto the chair, her right leg stretched out straight in front of her. Her face is strewn in pain, eyebrows furrowed. She looks furious, and pained, and conflicted—and many other things, they all flicker back and forth too quickly for you to keep up with.

Her cut has bled into her clothes, soaking the fabric and turning it a darker color. You’re sure you won’t be explained why such an injury happened, but it looks as if she snagged it on something.

The crew member announces their presence, but Caitlyn doesn’t rush to respond. She looks to you, silently commanding you to help her with the gash on her thigh—following that command she commands the crew guard to leave.

“But—”

“Haven’t I given you a command? Leave.”

The door shuts and so do your air pipes, the room suffocating.

Her eye-the uncovered one-is bloodshot, “why’re you still standing there?”

You’re reaching for your bag immediately after. It’s basic to always have enough for some form of cut/gash concoction. You mix it together, creating a yellow-ish paste—your eyes flickering to her thigh.

“Why kidnap me?” you ask, still focused on your work, trying to keep your hands steady despite the tremor in your fingers. “You’re obviously smart, Caitlyn. Do you really need my help?”

When she speaks, her voice is measured, betraying none of the emotion swirling beneath the surface. “I didn’t take you for your skills alone. I need your help… but it’s not just for making powders or salves.”

You glance up, brow furrowed. “Then what? Why capture me if not for that?”

Her jaw tightens as she leans in slightly, her words cutting through the air. “Because I need someone who understands pain… and how to make it disappear. You’re the only one who can help me finish what I started.”

You cover her gash, watching as she controls her pained expressions with ease. The only things that give it away are the little furrow in her eyebrows. You finish applying the paste and wrapping it. The room is quiet save for the distant creak of the ship. You wipe your hands of any excess.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Caitlyn mutters, the words barely above a whisper, her voice tinged with frustration, maybe fatigue. It’s hard to tell, but she’s looking over the secure work you did on her injury, your soft and careful fingers when you worked. You didn’t need to be careful. “But I’m not ungrateful.”

“Of course I did,” you start, packing all of the little bottles full of supplies back into your bag, “I may not have had a choice, but I—this is what I’ve always done. I’ve always helped where I can. I heal.”

There’s a shift in the air.

Because this time Caitlyn listened.

It wasn’t the last time you healed her.

A few days later you’re shoved up the stairs and forced onto your knees, Vi shoved alongside you. Her bicep brushing against yours. You look up, seagulls swarming stop of the ship—the sails fluttering in the wind. Caitlyn also stood in your vision, along with the hundreds on her ship.

“We’re traveling into Ashford, you two are accompanying.”

Ashford is full of colorful lanterns littering the rooftops, creating a welcoming and fun atmosphere. The ground has powders, scattered across the floor. Reds, purples, pinks, yellows, light blues—it’s like a disco ball. There’s a small home at the end that Caitlyn raps her knuckles upon. A man opens it, arms full of dark tattoos of a language you’re unfamiliar with. He welcomes Caitlyn, and only her—the door shutting after.

Unbeknownst to you all, that door shutting was like a countdown. The many people hidden in the roofs surrounding you engaged, aware of the trigger (that being the door).

Caitlyn had found out too, her intuition snapping into place quick. It turned out to be an ambush, supporters of Vi’s sister having tracked her there and tried to surround the crew she had brought into town.

It was in the blink of an eye, but Caitlyn had stepped in the way of an attacker—taking the brunt of the attack instead of Vi. The blood seeping into Caitlyn’s shirt from the jab to her stomach was concerning.

This was the second time you healed her.

She seemed more conflicted, eyes darting around as if she was reading her own thoughts. You had her laid down on the window chair, the noon sun shining onto the wound making it easy for you assess it. For some reason, you spoke—lips dropping open to ask a question like something tugged it out of you.

“Why did you step in front of Vi?”

It’s like her thoughts shatter, her focus coming back to the present. She exhales, her voice carrying in the quiet room, “because she’s not the one I’m after. Her sister is my enemy.”

The mixture is spread across her stomach, you watch as it flinches from the coldness of the paste. Caitlyn looks out the window, at the birds flying around.

“Vi’s sister,” she starts, the bitterness tasting in her mouth as she thinks about her, “I can’t... I can’t let that go. She killed my mother.”

But in the same breath, she looks conflicted, “But I don’t want Vi to suffer more because of what I want.”

There’s a pause, as if Caitlyn is fighting herself—fighting the love she still holds for her mother, and the desire that feels all too fresh, the one that’s consuming her and difficult to let go. It’s a fleeting moment, but it’s there: her love for Vi, burned under her pain, manifesting in subtle gestures and words left unsaid.

“I’m tired of the fighting. But I’m not done yet, I don’t feel I’ve come close enough.”

The air between you is thick with unspoken emotions—regret, love, and an overwhelming need for closure. But Caitlyn hides it well, masking it with the determination that’s been her shield. Just as she had opened up to you, her expression hardened once again—attention set on the seagull flying free.

She was still holding onto the passion for revenge, but her grip had loosened—not nearly as tight as it was when she had kidnapped you.

You’re dismissed after patching Caitlyn up. The event sun sinks low, creating an orange hue over the ship. You shut the door to the captian’s quarters behind you. The wind is softer now, the ocean brushing the sand in the background. The deck is mainly empty save for maybe ten other people—most other in the town, or under in the bunker drinking. Vi sat on a step, attention snapping to you. You glance sideways at her, silhouette outlined in the fading sunlight.

“You okay?” You ask, your voice a gentle nudge.

“Just amazing,” she says, but there’s a trace of something in her voice, “Just… tired with it all.”

You sit beside her, the air growing cooler as the sun disappears behind the horizon You’re unsure whether she’s taking about the trip to the town, Caitlyn, or the deal with her sister—could be all three. But regardless you don’t press her.

Instead you shift closer to her, seeking the warmth. You look out at the sea, as far as your vision will allow you. The sunset is beautiful—more vivid than what you could’ve imagined. But it doesn’t feel like something you can appreciate.

“Caitlyn doesn’t make it easy,” you say finally. It’s an understatement. She makes it incredibly difficult. On one side you understand her motives, on the other—youre furious, hurt with her.

Vi tenses at the mention of Caitlyn, but she doesn’t pull away.

“She’s been consumed by this need to make amends. It’s changing her. She promised me she wouldn’t change.”

Her voice cracks, just a little, and you feel the weight of her words, the deep ache behind them. You can tell how much it hurts her to see Caitlyn—the person who was becoming everything to her—became this shell of herself, this revenge-fueled version of the woman she used to know.

“You’re scared she won’t come back?” You ask softly, leaning in and meeting her eyes. The lantern near her icy eyes, lighting a fire in them from the hue. Vi doesn’t answer immediately, but the tremble in her hands and the shake in her eyes says it all. Finally she speaks.

“She was all I had left. After everything, and now she’s gone.”

You let her talk, listening to every word, eyes flickering around her face—seeing her.

“Vi” you start, “she’s still Caitlyn. Even if she’s lost and blinded by anger and hurt, even if she’s lost for some time. She’s still the person you knew. Maybe she just needs someone to remind her of that.”

You say, remembering what Caitlyn had spilled to you. Vi’s eyes flicker to you, searching you. For a long moment the world feels suspended between you two—unspoken words, shared understandings. The weight of her emotions hang in the air, but for the first time in a while, it feels like something between you two shifted.

Her breath hitches slightly, and she looks at you a little longer than usual—gaze trailing down to your lips for a moment. But just as the moment stretches, the sound of footsteps  disrupts it. You both turn, and Caitlyn appears out from the captian’s quarters. Caitlyn’s gaze shifts between the two of you. Her lips tight as she approaches the stairs to the both of you sitting there.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” Caitlyn says, her voice colder than usual—annunciating each word.

Vi stands first, “we were just talking.”

Caitlyn cuts her off, “we’re leaving at dawn."

As Caitlyn leads the way towards the ship’s helm, you can’t help but wonder if this—whatever it is—might have just begun to change like the tides.

sapphire seas masterlist - next part (coming tonight)

[raskolnyxov]

// arcane spoilers

the dictatorship leaving caitlyn’s body when she sees her girl wearing bandages as a shirt

[tojbnuy]

the difference in their arms had me shaking and quivering ..