#Rio

[rennebright]

bikini by saeu [Twitter/X] ※Illustration shared with permission from the artist. If you like this artwork please support the artist by visiting the source.

[holyblanchett]

Kathryn Hahn really is the captain of the Agathario ship and I love that for her.

[she1smyscar]

Okay but her smile here is SO STUNNING LIKE 😍

[bestwitchsam]

Down down down the road down the Christmas road

#AgathaAllAlong

[she1smyscar]

I fucking need fOOTAGE OF THIS

The fact that Aubrey Plaza used her death costume to torment her co-stars on Megalopolis across the lot will never not be top tier work.

[wgm-beautiful-world]

P r a g u e

[comicsohwhyohwhy]

How sad can Viktor's arc get

Just watched the teaser for the last act of season 2, and Arcane is really just going to break my heart with Viktor's arc, isn't it?

So in season 1 we see little Viktor confronted with what Singed has done to Rio, his friend, the experiments with no regards for the actual wellbeing of the animal, and it's what leads to a break between him and his mentor:

He finds Rio in Singed's lab again in the present, kept in a vat, and is still appalled, though he is at this point about to begin problematic experimentation on himself - but in a scenario where he bears the brunt of the risk and the suffering, where he has no intention to make another being suffer, so still not a Rio-situation.

And now we get the teaser, and apparently Singed got his hands on Viktor's body after Jayce kills him and is keeping him in a vat, experimenting on him, trying to 'revive' him in one way or another with the help of Vander's blood (as he suggested in act II), with no regard for Viktor's mind or wishes.

And this leads to the eldritch horror within Viktor waking up again, and with it the cultists aka husks, and probably the full Machine Herald gone super evil transformation.

DO YOU WANT TO KILL ME, AGAIN ROBBING VIKTOR OF ALL OF HIS AUTONOMY, TURNING HIM INTO AN 'EXPERIMENT' THAT WILL CAUSE SO MUCH SUFFERING???

AHHHHH dying (and also looking forward and also REALLY hoping that there's more in store for my boy than just this absolutely tragic arc)

[casteliacityramen]

[a-timely-problem]

my mother: "...so, we know that Nicky is Agatha's but who's the father?"

Me: "Rio"

My mother: "but how would that be possible?"

My mother: "we found out she's lady death, that Agatha is a witch and that magic is real, I don't think science is the issue here"

[rhbrand]

I want to shake the hand of whomever did this

[ms-queen-c]

Rio didn't prefer Agatha in a grave...

(I had uploaded this video before, but I’ve made a few modifications to it)

[rennebright]

リオ by ILSKSH [Twitter/X] ※Illustration shared with permission from the artist. If you like this artwork please support the artist by visiting the source.

[beauttifullife]

Chapter 24: Familiar By Thy Side (Preview)

Agatha shot her a look, sharp but tinged with exasperation, before sighing heavily and running a hand through her hair. She fought to get a grip on the emotions swirling inside her.  

“Doesn’t this feel weird to you?” she finally asked, gesturing vaguely around them.  

Rio didn’t answer immediately, instead leaning back in her chair with a casualness that only irritated Agatha more. She sipped her coffee, her expression unreadable until she finally smirked.  

“When life gives you lemons…” Rio trailed off, her tone light, teasing.  

Agatha’s glare was immediate, sharp enough to cut glass, and thankfully straight through Rio stupid statement.  

Rio sighed wearily at that, her smirk fading as she slouched slightly in her chair. The playful mask slipped, replaced by something quieter, more honest.  

“Yes,” Rio said simply, meeting Agatha’s eyes. “It’s weird.”  

Agatha flicked her hand up in a sharp exclamation.  

“Thank you,” she muttered, needing the affirmation like air.  

She sighed heavily, her gaze dropping back to her plate before picking up a piece of bacon and biting into it. She chewed it with deliberate force, as though trying to grind the entire absurdity of their situation into dust under her teeth.  

“You know,” Rio began, her voice dripping with teasing intent, the kind that sent an instant ripple of irritation—and anticipation—through Agatha.  

Agatha froze mid-chew, her eyes narrowing, already bracing herself for whatever nonsense was about to come out of the woman’s mouth.  

Rio smirked, enjoying the moment far too much, and continued.  

“This whole situation,” she said, pausing to take a languid sip of her coffee, her free hand gesturing lazily between them, “is like the epitome of stereotypical lesbian behavior.”  

Agatha didn’t know what she was expecting to come out of Rio’s mouth, but it wasn’t that.  She tilted her head in confusion at that, continuing chewing before finally swallowing.    “What are you talking about?” 

Rio leaned forward, taking her time to spear a piece of egg with her fork. She popped it into her mouth, humming softly before finally meeting Agatha’s gaze with a teasing glint in her eye.  

“U-hauling,” she said simply.    

Agatha blinked, her brow furrowing.    

What the fuck was Rio talking about?  

“Like… the moving truck?”  

Rio’s jaw dropped dramatically, as she gave Agatha an incredulous look, shaking her head in disbelief.  

“You’ve really never heard the joke?” Rio asked, her tone brimming with amazement, her disbelief as playful as it was genuine.  

Agatha’s brow furrowed as she racked her brain, searching for any context to latch onto, but came up with nothing. The frustration of not knowing—of being on the outside of an inside joke—pricked at her pride. She glared at Rio, her jaw tightening, and her tone sharpened as she spoke.  

“I’m sorry,” Agatha deadpanned, the words somehow both a hiss and a mock. “I’m not well-versed in the ‘ vagina monologue ,’ Rio. Please, enlighten me.”  

Rio’s grin widened, a devilish light sparking in her eyes. She leaned back in her chair, clearly enjoying every moment of Agatha’s irritation.  

“I forget sometimes that you're a baby lesbian,” Rio said, her voice dripping with exaggerated sympathy, her grin widening as she clearly savored every second of this.  

Agatha’s left eye twitched, a telltale sign that her patience was already wearing dangerously thin.  

“Alright, listen,” Rio began in a tone so placating it could’ve been meant for a toddler. She even held up her hands, before bringing them together like she was telling a story with them. “When two mommies fall in love...”  

Agatha growled, her fingers tightening around her fork as she leaned forward, her voice low and full of menace.  

“You know I have enough connections in the upper echelons of New York society to kill you with my bare fucking hands and still get away with it, right?”  

Rio didn’t even flinch. If anything, her smirk deepened, her mouth twitching with barely contained laughter as she took a slow sip of her coffee, letting the moment stretch just enough to test Agatha’s patience.  

But then, just as quickly, the teasing faded. The smirk softened into something quieter, more reflective, as she set her cup down and looked at Agatha with a serious, almost resigned expression.  

“Okay,” she murmured with a heavy sigh, pausing to collect her thoughts before continuing. “There’s this running joke about lesbians—how we move fast. Women bond faster. We just... get each other, you know? No hurdles, no walls, none of that emotional baggage that men seem to drag out for years.”   

She paused, as if considering what to say next.  

“Even for the truly emotionally stunted women—”   

Agatha’s glare sharpened. She could feel the barb coming. Agatha’s mouth opened to retort, but Rio cut her off with a look that was more knowing than teasing.  

“— like us ,” Rio finished simply, the weight of the words settling between them, as she claimed she had just as many problems as Agatha, before moving on.  “Even then, it’s like running the 100-meter hurdles—with no hurdles. Straight to the finish line in record time while everyone else is jumping and stumbling behind us.”  

Agatha blinked, processing Rio’s words, her mind working overtime to unravel the logic—or lack thereof—behind them. She sat back slightly, her fork clinking against the table as she waved her hand in mild disbelief, as if to wave away the nonsense.   

“That cannot be true,” Agatha stated, her tone flat and edged with skepticism, as though sheer disbelief might somehow undo the absurdity Rio had just said.  

Rio chuckled, leaning back in her chair with the kind of ease that set Agatha’s teeth on edge. Her eyes sparkled, full of amusement.  

“Oh, but it is,” Rio replied, her voice light but unyielding.  It was the kind of tone someone uses to drop bigger news. “One of my friends from Texas used to say lesbians date like dogs age—one year for a straight couple equals seven for us.”  

Agatha blinked, as her mind stumbled over the analogy. Before she could form a retort, Rio raised a finger to chin, her expression turning mock-serious.  

“Let’s do the math,” Rio said, pausing as though deep in thought. “We’ve been at this for a little over a month now, give or take.” She feigned looking up at the ceiling, mumbling theatrically, “Carry the one, divide by seven…”  

Her gaze snapped back to Agatha, and the smirk that spread across her face was absolutely menacing, practically dripping with satisfaction.  

“Congratulations, my love” Rio declared, her tone teasing but triumphant. “We just celebrated our one-year anniversary.”  

Agatha’s jaw dropped, and for a moment, all she could do was gape at Rio, torn between indignation and outright disbelief.   

“That—” she began, only to falter, eyes narrowing. “You’re just fucking with me.”  

Rio met her gaze with a deadpan look, chewing her bacon like she was unbothered by the accusation.   

“Unfortunately, no,” she said, using her strip of bacon like a professor gesturing with a pointer during a lecture. “It’s absolutely a thing. I mean, I’ve done my best to avoid the stereotype my entire life, but I’ve seen it happen with my friends. Stereotypes exist for a reason—they’re rooted in some kind of truth.”  

She paused, giving Agatha a pointed look that was both teasing and resigned.  

“And now, look at me,” Rio added, gesturing vaguely around them as if to highlight the absurdity of their situation. “You’ve ruined me.”  

Agatha scoffed, straightening in her seat and gesturing between them.   

“We are not like that.”  

Rio raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, as her smirk widened.   

“Oh, we’re not?”   

“No,” Agatha snapped, gripping her fork tightly and brandishing it like a weapon. “We’re not. For one, you’re not moving in. You’re here for safety reasons. Safety , Rio.”  

She paused, frowning slightly as she tried to make her voice steadier, more commanding.  

“And two, I barely even like you.”  

The second the words left her mouth, Agatha winced inwardly.   

Damn it.    

Not as confident as she’d intended. The hesitation in her tone was a dead giveaway, and of course, Rio noticed it immediately.  

Rio’s head tilted, a slow grin spreading across her face like she’d just been handed the best gift imaginable. Then she laughed—a loud, full-bodied sound that filled the room. She threw her head back, her dark hair catching the soft morning light in a way that made Agatha’s chest tighten despite herself.  

When Rio looked back at her, her eyes were warm, playful, and entirely too knowing.  

“Barely like me, huh?” she said, her smirk widening.   “You’re so full of shit.  You love me, Agatha Harkness. You can’t say it without choking, but you do.”  

Agatha glared at her, though her heart betrayed her by doing an annoying little flip at the sound of Rio’s confidence.  

“Did those exact words ever leave my mouth, counselor ?” she retorted, lifting her chin stubbornly, her grip on the fork tightening just slightly.  

It was a strong argument, legally speaking. She hadn’t said those exact words—not directly, anyway. Sure, she would conceded that had told Rio she loved her, but not in a way that carried the full weight of saying it plainly. That admission still caused a twist of discomfort in her stomach, a vulnerability she wasn’t ready to lay bare.

Rio raised an eyebrow, giving Agatha a long, assessing look, the kind that said she was deciding just how much she wanted to push. Her smirk didn’t waver, though.  If anything, it deepened, her amusement written all over her face.  

Agatha wasn’t having it. She lifted her chin a fraction higher and shot Rio a pointed look of her own, her fork still in hand like a weapon of pure stubbornness.  

“If it can’t hold up in court,” Agatha said, her tone clipped, her emphasis sharp as a blade, “it won’t hold up in my house.”   

She added extra weight to the last two words, the “ my ” landing like a gavel striking a judge’s bench.  

Rio blinked, clearly taken aback for a split second before recovering, her lips twitching into a full grin.   

“Noted,” she murmured, leaning back in her chair, the picture of mock compliance. But her eyes betrayed her—dark and full of that damnable confidence that made Agatha want to simultaneously strangle and kiss her.  

“Good,” Agatha said, stabbing her fork into her eggs with a precise jab, as if to solidify her point. Her tone was firm, her authority seemingly reasserted—or at least, she hoped.  

One year anniversary.    

How ridiculous.  

[she1smyscar]

SHE FUCKING--AKSKSKSKS

[bestwitchsam]

Daniel Selon tells the story behind Rio carrying a flower around in #AgathaAllAlong

“In the original concept artwork for The Green Witch, a flower blooms from her chest where the jacket closes. During the fitting with Aubrey, it became clear that it was all too congested around the neckline and keeping the jacket closed all the time felt claustrophobic. So we popped it off and Aubrey held it in her hand while we fit the rest of the garment. She began to play with it, twirl it around in her fingers, chew on it and used it to gesture. It had become (very naturally) a prop! So right there in the fitting room we hatched the idea that Rio would bloom flowers whenever she wanted. Jac loved the idea and so my brilliant specialty costume fabricators @/ainstrains and @/bluebrookz hand crafted and painted fantasy flowers that correlated to the color of each trial on the road.”