phighting smut n stuff

Eye for an eye. [ Katana x Scythe... ig??]

HEH hello. i'm back. here for your yearly food? good. sorry this is short
thsi fic happens when they're about 30
feeding the scytana fans (me im scytana fans)
Katana is maskless in this
—

Scythe is told to hunt down the traitor, Katana, that dares flee from the Church of True Eye.

—

"...Kat'.." Scythe sighed, digging a heel into one of the latter's shoulder, pinning him down. Katana looked with a distraught, broken face. "Plea—se..," he strained out, desperately looking around with his jaw down, causing Scythe to slam her heel down on the pocket in his shoulder, an action that snapped his eyes back to hers, a yell squeezed out as if he was a tube of toothpaste.

Really, he had tried, both of them covered in blood that was muddled with the texture of rain. She, herself, was barely supporting herself up. She had to keep up her appearance, to show Katana he was truly defeated here. No more chances at fleeing away like a rabbit.

The woman's tail flicked, emitting a rattling sound that combat against the beating sounds of downpour, drenching them both. "Y'have the nerve t'try ta run away from th'church. We gave ya a home, love. We treated ya' like y'were our own. This is.. how you repay us?" she lectured, her voice breaking from what seemed to be bundled up emotions, choking her last words out and biting back tears. She hoped they weren't noticeable, the rain being a good excuse.

"Y-you.." Katana spoke shakily, his body convulsing as he finally settled down under her heel that dug into his collarbone so painfully, feeling his muscles shift where she prodded. He was under her grip, so pathetically weak it was laughable. She would, if the person she was hunting down wasn't so important in her life. "'Family' doesn't murder to please a false god—"

"FALSE god?!" Scythe spat, now slamming her foot down on his chest painfully, causing him to writhe like a desperate animal, hands dragging up to twist and claw at her ankle. She rose her scythe to his neck, pressing it uncomfortably at his thyroid. His breath quickened and she leaned on his chest to make it even harder to breathe.

"Y'dare disrespect the father.. th'man that gave ya th'life you had today?" she demanded, locking eyes with him. His fear was so obvious. Usually, she would get some sort of sick rush, a pleasure like no kind, from it, but now she just felt dread and the air rush from out of her mouth as she tried to speak. Katana didn't want to die, and she, in the back of her head, didn't want to kill him.

"Y—you're..," Katana tried to speak, which Scythe noticed, lightening the pressure on his throat. "You're corrupted by their foolish promises!, Scythe, please, come with me," he pleaded. His desperate face and even more pathetic words hit her stomach with, what was it.., guilt? Love? The thrill of him begging, because he cared about her, even when teetering so close to death? No, it must be a trick. To get her guard down, then try to turn the tables.

"Damn disappointin'," Scythe clambered her weapon close to his throat again to shut him up. "Think y'can get yer way outta this with sum' sweet words," she sourly stated as if venom were coated on her lips. Her eyes couldn't help but soften when she saw him, though. She hated herself for it.

Her foot jabbing his chest let up and she stood upright, now starting to breakdown, breath increasing. "G—go, gods dammit, 'fore I change m' mind." her weapon let up, allowing him to sit up. She knew the consequences for 'letting him get away', or, sparing him for that matter. They both knew. Katana's mouth was agape as he stared.

"Leave, leave and never come back here, Katana."