#strxngertogether

“  what the hell is wrong with you?  ” Isha!

// " what is wrong with you?! " , caitlyn returns, just as stupid of a question, grabbing the child by the back of the scruff, picking her up as a result.

she's small. caitlyn would be quite the opposite - tall, only amplified by her large heels. the blue colour in the child's hair makes her fist tremble, but hides it by shaking isha in the air.

" stop getting in my way. my patience is thin. " and it's only getting thinner by the minute. her own dark blue hair falls into her face, framing her sharp cheeks. " tell me where jinx is and I'll spare you of stillwater's cells. "

“ I had a nosebleed when I woke up “ Isha!

// ambessa inspects the child, with worry. nosebleeds aren't usually something you needed to worry about a lot, but when it's people the noxian woman cares about she can be a little overbearing. she raises an eyebrow, gentle affection, brushing a thumb over her cheek. " are you better now? " , is the first thing she asks, trying to see if there's any more bleeding, or anything that could be seriously wrong.

“ you sound so pretty when you cry. “ Ambessa!

// big tears roll over maddie's cheeks like he's just this small thing that ambessa is tearing apart. he's the little rabbit prey to the wolf-like predator the taller woman embodies. where she only needs one hand to wrap around both his small wrists, he'd barely manage to get a good grasp on her. not that she's letting him.

the general's roughness make his heart beat in his chest and the fact that he's crying only catches up with him by the time he tastes the saltiness in his mouth through needy whines and moans. the taste makes him cough and try to struggle in her grasp.

to no avail, obviously, he feels weak with those big fingers in between and inside of his folds. gasping for air when ambessa curls inside of him, eyes squeezing together to try and hold back more tears. she is big, and strong, and the way she's making him submit is one that's almost absolutely overwhelming.

he can't tell if he's crying out of fear, out of pleasure, out of pain, or out of the way it feels so familiar like he's just being used for someone else's pleasure.

a woman who takes and takes is exactly what he'd expect from a noxian general. he squirms, legs kicking the air. but no matter how much he struggles, the hand around his wrists doesn't even budge. and it doesn't look like she has to put any effort for it not to. it gets difficult to see when there are so many tears clouding his vision. there is so much pleasure and pain in his abdomen, he struggles to tell it apart.

gasping breaths. hearing her point out his cries make him grit his teeth, as if trying to stop himself from moaning like it's something he enjoys, even when he does.

Eloise's eyes narrowed slightly as she listened to Alice's defence of Graham Becke. The protective instinct that had surged within her since assuming the Alpha role now roared inside her chest.

[ no tears ]  –  for the sender to cup the receiver’s face and brush away their tears with their thumbs. reverse Gregory @ Daphne! @strxngertogether

Daphne wasn't sure what was wrong but she'd seen Gregory storm out and now found her youngest brother clearly upset.

Shutting the door behind her Daphne sat opposite of Gregory and gently took his face in her hands and dried his tears.

Caitlyn rarely cried anymore. She liked to think she’d grown too strong for that, hardened by everything life had thrown at her. The world had beaten her down, but she’d been tempered by it, like steel forged in fire. Or at least, that’s what she told herself. Tears didn’t come easily these days. But tonight was different.

Frustration had overtaken her, the kind that crept in when she let her guard down. She sat at her desk, trying — and failing — to return to work. She could only make it to her home office, since even with crutches, she couldn’t make it too far. Her elbows rested on the desk, both hands supporting her head, which was bowed in defeat. Her tears were quiet, slipping from her single good eye, the other hidden beneath an eyepatch that still felt unfamiliar.

She was angry. Angry that she couldn’t see properly anymore. Angry at her own weakness, at how her body refused to move the way she needed it to. Her legs were useless. Her hands shook too much to hold a pen, and when she tried to write, even her name came out as an unrecognizable scrawl. Every small failure felt like a knife twisting deeper in her heart. She felt trapped in a body that had betrayed her.

The soft creak of the door pulled her from her spiral. She blinked, quickly swiping at her face with the back of her hand as a small figure peeked through. Isha. Of course it was Isha. The child had a knack for showing up when Caitlyn least expected it, her presence a quiet, unspoken comfort.

Caitlyn straightened up immediately, wiping the last traces of tears from her cheeks. She cleared her throat and forced herself to sit straighter, regaining her composure as best as she could. The frustration still burned beneath her skin, but she buried it.

❝ Isha,❞ she said, her voice soft but steady as she turned to the girl. ❝ Did I forget something? Is it close to dinner now? Are you hungry? I can make something if you’d like.❞

It's rare - very rare - that she's anywhere near a battleground after the fight ends. Battles in themselves are something she tries to steer clear of. They're messy. Far too many people clashing, fronts and sides rather than a ring of sharpened points facing inwards. Too difficult to parse. Too...

Blood splashes against her shoe as she takes a slightly wrong step, and her features pinch, a grimace flickering through them before smoothing itself out.

Too messy. Much too messy, but there are few better places to find a whole hell of a lot of scrap material, and if she's lucky, some insight into why this happened in the first place. It being leagues away from her usual haunts shouldn't matter. The place is almost abandoned - the only remaining inhabitants being the dead and the soon dead. It's unfortunate, then, that one of the people she spots in the second category is less than half the size of everyone around her.

[ COMFORT ]: sender, after a challenging and emotionally draining experience, settles into the receiver's lap in search of a feeling of comfort. Cait!

// comfort is not ambessa's strong suit. it's definitely something she had to fight tooth and nail for to attempt to learn, but for her children it was worth it. this has begun to include cait and she wouldn't have it any other way.

softness has slowly grown it's way into her heart. but she is still not very good at words. so, when cait places themselves onto her lap, burying their face into her shoulder, instead of words, she gives a comfortable hum. it rumbles in her throat, like a big cat's purr.

big hand places on her child's shoulder, pulling them closer. buried in her arms. ambessa's fingers tap against the fabric, nudging her own head against the young kiramman's.

ambessa doesn't have a lot of times where she lets her hurt possess her quite like cait does sometimes. of course, even she is not invincible, pain still reaches her.

there is a small twinge in her chest at the commander's pain. empathy is not something the noxian feels often times, usually it proves to be a hindrance to whatever she is trying to achieve. but right now, it lets her hold cait close, let's them tremble in her arms and in her lap.