#caitlyn kiramman concept drabbles

[madewithsilk]

what are your thoughts on Caitlyn who uses her powers to hide her darling's crimes like "yes baby go ahead kill that annoying bastard I got your back" type

she’d be so sweet especially if you were so concerned and worried about what would happen now :c

Caitlyn leaned back against her chair, groaning, at the tedious and seemingly endless work. Her leg bounced up and down, hearing footsteps approaching to her door in a worried manner. As it swung open, she was confronted with you and your tears streaming down your face.

You shut the door behind you and Caitlyn immediately dropped everything, shifting her chair away from the desk and giving you access to come sit on her lap for solace. “What happened, hun?”

Your arms wrapped around Caitlyn’s neck, crying gently as her hand strokes your thigh. “Some guy was making fun of you so I—” A choked out sob interrupted you, Caitlyn nearly amused by the sight of you so worked up but mostly filled with worry.

“You what, hun?” She implored, tucking strands of your hair behind your ear. You tried to calm down before finishing your sentence, the sobs turning into stray tears, hiccups, and small sniffles. “Hurt him real bad.. Had to call Jayce to get him and Jayce told me to come and tell you!”

Caitlyn tuts, bouncing you gently in her lap. She shushed you gently, briefly pecking your lips before replying. “No worries, doll. You really think you had a valid reason?” You frantically nodded and she felt so proud of you for defending her, how could she say no? “I'll take care of it later, you just stay seated here for now.”

You nod and nuzzle your head into the crook of her neck, straddling her on the chair.

[piltover-sharpshooter]

The Tapestry on your Skin. (Drabble)

Two figures were resting on Caitlyn's giant queen sized bed, one the eponymous heir to the Kiramman fortune herself, and the other her trusty partner, born fighter and long time survivor, Vi. This was, however, no moment of raw passion and roughness, that moment had just passed, and now they were simply caressing each others naked bodies and enjoying their respective company. It was only when Vi started to touch one of her many scars (Her old kickback wound on the shoulder) that Caitlyn sought to ruin the moment by speaking up.

"You don't have to force yourself to do that, you know?" It was a simple statement, but came baggaged with a lot of things behind it, and she was surprised to find she had spoken without meaning to. Something that came from the chest.

Her partner would stop for a second before raising an eyebrow. "...What do you mean? You can't tell me you don't like scars, you just spent the last hour getting your hands all over mine" And it was true. Caitlyn herself loved scars, adored them even, she found them extremely appealing, and on more personal moments with her partners she'd target them for kisses and caresses. So yes, Caitlyn Loved scars....on other people. On herself? She had to admit to finding them horrid.

It was one of the many things that had been instilled into her from a young age, the concept of a 'proper lady' and how one should take care of her own body. 'A lady's body should be like a smooth marble statue'. Pristine, perfect, not a blemish on sight, and while she understood on a logical level that it was rubbish, a part of her would always keep it in mind. She'd remember how other nobles acted when a lady got into an accident and had to wear a mask to cover her face, how a simple nick in the wrist would be treated as losing the hand itself, and her parents, bless their souls, despite doing their best to convince her they didn't care, had reacted badly to her own scar. Caitlyn could still remember their shocked faces.

Her tattoos would escape judgement as it was something she willingly did to herself, as and established, on others such marks were cause for appreciation. But on her? Her mind would always rebel against scars. "It is different, your scars are beautiful, mine are not"

"...Have you seen me, Cupcake? I look like a chopping block compared to you." Her answer was instant and accompanied by giving her scars little kisses, brushing her fingers along them gently, ensuring each one gets the same amount of attention. It was that simplicity and honesty about the pugilist that she adored, simple like a sword is simple she thought, it does it job, and it does it job well. Much like Vi. Others might give long winded explanations or corrections, but she just went from A to B.

For her part, Cait just blushes and let's her scars be pampered. "I'm not saying that I'm right...it's just that...I don't know, your scars seem like proof of how sturdy you are, of your will and strenght and willingness to survive and sometimes I look at mine and feel...ugly."

She is leaning against the touch and kisses, moving to caress the fighter's own scars herself, paricularly the one across her face, with her own thumb. "Your's feel like tapestry on your skin, endless stories and deeds and mine feel...mine feel like they are there to ruin said tapestry."

"Ugly is the farthest thing from my mind when I look at you." Vi muses, letting her fingers dance across her skin, caressing and kissing each scar she comes across.. climbing her body to do so. "Your scars tell stories. Mine are just.. all the same. Just some trencher trash getting beat by someone who thinks they're better. You can't call this a tapestry, this is a bloody rug." She never talked much about her scars from Stillwater-- though they where the ones to primary tatter her back like blood on white linen, and the sniper herself would never pry about it, if she ever wanted to tell her, then Cait would be there to listen, not a moment before. "I like yours much better, personally. Make you look real hot too." Adding a goofy little smirk as a flirt.

Perhaps that was the case for a lot of people, Caitlyn realized, perhaps wounds and scars looked appealing to others because they just tell the end of a story, rather than the horrible things one had to go through, hence why the one with said scars wouldn't appreciate them as much. Still, much like how Vi refused to let her think her scars were awful, Caitlyn was commited to make her appreciate the ones she had as well.

"Well...how about we compromise and say that we believe the other is right and that both our scars are beautiful?" Putting one arm around the woman's body, she'd lean forward to gently press her forehead against the fighter's own, managing to finally cause her to blush as well. That was the trick with her, always so direct, but if you are just as direct she stumbles, as she did now letting her mouth hang for a few seconds as she stared at Caitlyn's eyes, before softening her expression and smiling.

"...I think that sounds like a pretty sweet deal Cupcake..." And Vi, always to the point, kissed her, letting silence fall as their caresses remained. Both realized that logic was a compromise, one that wouldn't really solve the issues both had internalized....

But perhaps, each other's appreciation is enough.

(Drabble inspired by @risingshine's amazing art of Caitlyn's scars and tatoos, and a conversation I had with @undercity-merc )

[madewithsilk]

Vamp!Caitlyn who is infatuated with treating captive reader like an experiment. She just hardly understands the complexity of the human experience and with you stuck in her dungeon like a pretty ornamentation, might as well put you to use! She'll ask you all sorts of strange questions to try and understand you better. "Did you enjoy your freedom? Were you ever truly free?" "Do you still trust in your faith even after all this time of being failed by it?" And beyond bizarre, impressionistic questions, she'll use your body like a physical investigation. Starving you of both food and humanity, seeing if you'd lose your sanity or if you'd beg your captor for some affection and care. Observing you on the brink of losing it was so entertaining for her. After all the time of keeping you hungered for all sorts of necessities, she'd bring you to her quarters and whisper more absurd questions, slowly coercing you into letting her take a feast from your blood. "I freed you out of those bounding chains, didn't I? Don't I deserve some sort of thank you?" Eventually, you'd comply and nod, moving your ragged hair out the way and giving her space to dig her fangs into your virgin neck for the first time but definitely not the last.

@kaykeryyy