#ask:hindsight

[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.