#The angst with these two kills me

[seidanguard]

🤛🏾 (from your sworn enemy)

Punch meme. || open

Hotaru stumbled back and barely caught his footing, hands on his face. As his nose shattered, so did any hope that maybe this was all a misunderstanding, that maybe things could go back to the way they were before. But the man in front of him - below him, really; barely reaching Hotaru's chin - was no friend. He was Darrius - an enemy of the state. Darrius, with no loyalty, no honor, no dedication to collective progress and the maintenance of Seidan peace. Darrius was addicted to chasing the ever-moving goalpost of "justice" - a term he self-defined.

Hotaru didn't realize at first that he hadn't been attacked again. He didn't realize he hadn't tried to defend. But it made sense to him. Darrius' powerful punch hadn't been an attack, it had been a message.

Hotaru opened his eyes, white and glowing, glowing bright. He looked at where Darrius had been and saw nobody.

Message duly noted.

@chxxseyourfighter

[demigods-posts]

whatever you do. don't think about how percy and annabeth held the sky. and both of them earned grey streaks. that likely lasted for a couple of years. so during the year before the prophecy. when percy and annabeth weren't on speaking terms. one look in the mirror was enough to remind them what could be if they had time.

[artandbrimstone]

// JRWI TOTAL MONSTER KILL EP 1

and,

your sister does not come home that night.

close ups under the cut

[buff-solitare]

Imagine if Thorin’s heart was a smidge less guarded. He loved Bilbo from the minute he set foot into his home but just image them being able to love and live on their journey. We see their longing but never see it truly come to fruition. Imagine their late nights at the campfire as Bilbo’s hair grows longer and Thorin manages to work braids into the silken strands, quietly whispering about each other's customs and courting. Imagine them, side by side on their horses, unable to keep their eyes to themselves. Imagine Kili and Fili accidently calling Bilbo ‘Uncle’ but it sticks because Bilbo is family now. Imagine Thorin, deep in his gold sickness, still being able to braid Bilbo’s hair. Imagine that braid being the last thing Thorin touches before he dies, leaving it soaked in his blood. Imagine Bilbo’s breakdown when he realizes he has to take the braid out and can never get that love back. Can you imagine?

[the-dragon-hearted]

Part 1

There is a universe, somehow, where everything aligned just perfectly and left four desperate children on Silco's doorstep. A universe where Piltover is just a bit more ruthless: where Vander's connections aren't trustworthy and where his foolish sentimentality wins.

Vander's arrested, in Vi's place. He's so proud of her for trying to do the right thing - but he'll not make a sacrifice out of Felicia's daughter. The violence in the streets has to stop and Piltover won't stop until it has someone to blame for the theft. So the Hound becomes a sacrificial lamb.

But remember, his agreements are flimsier, and the trust between enforcer and undercity is as thin as the razor blade Mylo keeps in his pocket. The gold-trimmed enforcers aren't happy with a Hound dressed in wool - they want the girl. The one Jayce identified. Some pink-haired snot-nosed filthy brat. The thief. The terrorist.

They labeled her a terrorist: Vi. For a near-harmless explosion in a district she would've been beaten in, just for the grime in her hair.

And the Hound won't have that.

For the second time in his life, Vander's knuckles are stained with enforcer blood and the undercity begins to burn. Vi's next to him, eager to fight, but scared. She's just a kid after all. Always eager. Always scared.

Claggor, Mylo, and Powder come running as they limp back to the Last Drop. Powder's too busy crying into Vi's shirt to pay much attention to the screams outside. Reinforcements are just a few minutes away. The rats of the undercity retreat to spare themselves from the brutality beneath an enforcer's heel and the streets grow quieter and quieter. They all know how to slip away when the time demands it, but this is more than sneaking through the sewers and waiting for the storm to pass.

The enforcers, the council, Piltover: they'll keep coming. The blood on Vander and Vi's hands ensures that much. And they don't want him -

He looks to where Vi is hugging Powder back, a: "Sorry Powpow," being breathed. "Didn't mean to scare you -"

He can't let that happen. He can make himself the bigger problem - the biggest threat and that will buy the kids time and give those rich bastards a victory.

But then... it'll just be them.

Claggor's strong, Mylo's sly, Powder's clever, and Vi is brave. They're all tough as nails and they'll make it. At least until this underbelly starts ripping itself around. Vander's a smart man who knows what will happen in his absence, the cannibalistic tendencies of desperate people who need scapegoats.

And Vi's already willing to play the martyr. She proved that much. No, if he leaves he needs to leave them with something. Anything. Something that's as willing to fight for their future as...

That's when he gets the terrible idea. Right around the same time he hears the tell-tale racket of enforcers running down cobblestone. He grabs a bar napkin, and Claggor bars the door. He fumbles messily around for a piece of graphite or a damned pen.

Vi pushes Powder behind her and grabs a half-empty bottle from a table. There's a shatter as she arms herself with razor glass. These kids are well versed at making weapons, they have to be.

They'll only get better at it if he finishes this note. He's signing their lives away to a different demon. There's no guarantee they'll live long enough to give him the note. It's a terrible idea -

"I'll never betray Zaun's children"

Powder's climbing behind the bar with him, clinging to his leg. Mylo climbs over the other side, fiddling with a collection of rusty steak knives. Claggor's grabbed a chair and broke it, two wooden beams in either hand.

Suffocating in the streets is better than dying on a bridge.

"Take this," he gives it to Vi before slipping on his knuckles. "Find Silco. Ask around, and he'll find you."

"What?" it's a challenge from her. She's ready to fight to keep what she has.

She doesn't realize that every fight comes with a loss. And eventually, it's going to take everything from her. Once you bloody those knuckles you never stop - not really.

But not today. Today it'll only take him, and hopefully, she'll remember what they talked about. She'll remember that despite this shitshow - he's proud of her for finding a peaceful solution. He's proud of her for putting down those fists.

But there was no way in hell he was going to let her go.

"Take care of each other," he orders slipping on his other gauntlet. Mylo and Powder stare at him with wide eyes. Claggor's lip is trembling.

"Remember. Remember, to look out for each other!" he orders.

"No!" Powder seems to understand now as Vander pulls the bracings away from the door. She scrambles over the bar with a muffled wail. Mylo stops her right as Vander throws the door open.

"Vander!" Vi screams, but the hound is loose.

He's in the streets and he's set about making these fools remember why they follow the light. Why they fear the undercity so badly they chase its children to sate their fury. Dark things live in the undercity. Zaun's children are raised in air so heavy it turns their lungs to iron. Her streets sharpen their teeth and build calluses over their knuckles until the only thing they feel is the warm crimson in their wake.

Vander had hoped he'd never do this - be this. But jaws shatter under his fist faster than glasses fill with his whiskey. He's good at this. Always has been. The kids slip away - he knows that much.

Everything else is a bit of a blur. He glimpses Ekko, once, on the rooftops. The boy heads after the other four and Vander is thankful for that. Benzo didn't survive the first wave... he doesn't have much chance to reflect on that because there's another enforcer in his grip and a new scream in the air.

He buys the kids plenty of time. Too much time.

Enough time for all of Zaun to hear the news: the Hound's fighting back! Five enforcers are dead! Six! Ten! Enough time for Vi and Mylo to find their informants.

Silco isn't exactly a subtle name. He's well hidden, that's true, but a familiar blond limped his way over to one of the abandoned warehouses after Vi kicked the shit out of him. Word on the street is that he's in with someone named Silco. Doesn't mean much to the informant or to Vi.

It's enough. They slip into one of Zaun's many industrial districts just as Vander finally falls.

Piltover's attack dogs got him - they would eventually, he knew that much. A wild hound is fierce but numbers always win. Part of him's happy to die on familiar cobblestones. Better than the cool stone of prison - better than anything Piltover had in mind for him. This way, the kids would know what happened to him. They wouldn't do anything stupid.

Well... they'd probably still do some stupid things. He coughed out a laugh, blood hacking out of his lungs as it all began to fade. Good. They deserved to be a bit stupid. They were kids...

Just kids.

Hopefully, Silco remembers that...

Silco? Oh, Silco remembers. He'd been making a plan revolving around that. Kids are foolish. Kids are loyal. Children are painfully easy to manipulate and kill. Children are easy to make disappear.

Killing Vander and his children was quite literally on his upcoming schedule. It was going to be a glorious sort of revenge, making Vander watch it happen - helpless to stop it as he drowned in his own pacifism. It was going to be inhumane. The final nail in Silco's old coffin.

So pardon him for taking a moment to stare at the victims delivered to his doorstep. Half of him wants to laugh. The other half feels like he's been shoved back into that damn river.

The children only stare back, wide-eyed and curious. Scared too... haunted in some wonderfully poetic way.

"Can I help you?" Silco demands cooly after his disbelief has been satiated.

The pink one steps forward, naturally. She's Vander's little favorite, his poster child: basically a replica. Taking charge is probably laced in her veins.

She hands him a napkin.

"He told us to come here," she breathes, and it almost sounds like a prayer.

Silco cannot focus on anything but the napkin.

"Well... not here," the wily boy in the back disagrees slowly as he gives a scathing glance to a dead mouse in the corner. "He told us to find you."

Silco watches them carefully and then unfolds the napkin. If this is a trap it's ridiculous and definitely not Vander's idea. Perhaps these children are simply suicidal - or stupid.

He reads it.

Pauses. Reads it again.

He glances to that pink one again: Violet. Felicia's daughter. The other one is to her right, clinging to the elder's bruised knuckles. Powder... right?

Mylo. And Claggor.

Vander's children.

Vander's children!

He reads it one more time.

"It is kind of messy," Claggor's sheepish tone contradicts his appearance sharply. "He was in a rush -"

"I can read it," Silco snarls. He whirls around and plunges further into the bowels of the warehouse.

The children follow, blindly. Because they were told to. They follow the devil into his den because Vander told them to.

Why Silco let them, he'll never be able to explain. Never. Why he didn't finish was Vander started: destroy all remnants of their old life, including those damned children - he'll never say.

He can't. Because Vander sent him his children and a note. It changes nothing.

Except it changes everything.

[ukuslip]

congrats on being alive bot. you truly were The Character Ever

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

.... well this noir Vaggie au edit got waaay out of hand ha ha!

self indulgent au lore under the cut bc WEEEE

Detective Vaggie finally got enough blackmail on Valentino for Charlie and Angel to pin him in a corner, but as Vaggie expected, Angel Dust ends up doing what almost every other Sinner has done after Vaggie hands the evidence over to them, and chooses to just accept Valentino’s renegotiated and seemingly better soul contract rather than break it and make a mortal enemy out of an Overlord

Of course the first thing Val does is force Angel Dust to destroy the evidence they’d used against him, just like every other Overlord Vaggie's worked against always has, leaving Angel at his mercy again

And also leaving Charlie devastated. She'd given Angel her promise of protection as soon to be crowned king of hell-

(long story) (Lucifer wanted to kill Vaggie for scarring Charlie a few years back and Charlie had to beat him up to stop him) (the Overlords, led by Velvette and the Vees, decided to flex their power by saying this invalidated Lucifer as king and made Charlie the new ruler of hell) (she reluctantly accepted because..)

-hoping it would be enough to counter any Overlord threat against Angel once he was free

Ironically though, Angel Dust having come to see her as a friend after all this and not wanting to put her in the line of fire ends up with him sticking with Val instead, who gloats about it, and tells Charlie to her face what he'll do to her friend and her pet P.I. if she (as soon to be king) doesn't back down and let the Vees do all the real running of hell (like they already have been)

Charlie the Pissed let's slip she's had enough of Val as she leaves his studio (both her and the studio being on fire)

No one takes her little threat seriously, except for Vaggie, who sees Charlie picking up and weighing Vaggie's spear in her hands when she thinks she's alone. Vaggie freaks out realizing Charlie is about to go do a murder

So Vaggie decides to break her own no-more-murder vow AGAIN for a girl AGAIN (last time was for Velvette) and she kills Valentino before Charlie can reach him, regaining her wings (kinda), absorbing his demonic energy (yuck), belatedly becoming one of the Vees like Velvette had once wanted (not in the way Velvette had wanted), and accepting all Val's soul contracts including Angel’s, which she breaks

She also breaks the truth of everything to Charlie on coronation day-

(maybe also breaking up with or getting dumped by her, even though they weren’t even dating)

-confessing to the murder and her exorcist past

Now that she’s an Overlord and Charlie’s about to be King of Hell, anything publicly personal between them (like Vaggie staying the basement of Charlie's abandoned hotel instead of sleeping in an alleyway next to a dumpster every night) would throw the other Overlords into a rage over the power imbalance with normal sinners caught in the crossfire or getting used as canon fodder, something neither Vaggie or Charlie can stomach

Besides which Vaggie feels 0% worthy of Charlie anymore after breaking her no-murder vow, and Charlie is feeling more things than she knows how to name about that and the exorcist thing, none of them good

Their last kiss (for now) leaves claw marks on Vaggie’s face to match the scar she gave Charlie all those years ago-

(which Charlie has finally also confessed to her about, to Vaggie's horror, Vaggie having blotted the memory out after binge drinking with Husk the following week)

-the scar from when Vaggie happened to still be holding her spear as Charlie reached out to help her, and ended up lashing out instead of flinching back, unintentionally driving away Charlie and their happy life together

(this shit luck is what pinged Overlord Husk's gambling powers and led him to Vaggie, meanwhile Angel dropped a paying client to go check on the random demon chick- Charlie- soon to be nicknamed Apple Slice by him- holding her bleeding face in her hands as she stumbled down the street in a daze)

Charlie and Vaggie made do with other friends when what they both most needed was each other

They’ve both been miserable and lonely since then, had only just started to build up what they should have had together all along while camping out at the old hotel working on Angel's case together, but the case is done and now…. this

This is NOT a good timeline for them (yet)

[justaz]

oh fuck merlin following after arthur for five seasons, at his heel following him into every battle, every fight, every quest without regard for his own safety. arthur dying on the shore of that damn lake and merlin dying with him but his body remains. arthur goes to avalon and merlin is forced to stay on earth. merlin can’t follow arthur this time. this is one journey merlin and arthur can’t take together. two halves split and kept apart for over fifteen hundred years. goddamn it. these fucking assholes never fail to make me cry. i hate them i hate them i hate them i hate them

[theghooligan]

gege @ all of us after doing gojo so dirty in the latest chapter:

[hornyverymuch]

the ost to arcane is so fucking gooood, I can't wait for the next part

[colibrie]

Trilo Fang AU: Ephemeral

Hey there! So as some may remember, the one and only @trilobitepunch (aka the trilo bug) bit during whumptober, and I wrote some snips for her fang au where a virus created by the GDF mutates Donnie and Leo into feral instinct driven hunters. If you haven't seen it, stop what you are doing and click the link below. I promise you, you will not want to miss out on it. Anyway, I ended up expanding the snip I wrote for wisp, and Trilo was kind enough to make a new illustration to go with it! So please join me in screaming about it!

"Okay Nardo," Mikey whispered, glancing furtively over his shoulder to ensure the others had not noticed his absence before dipping down to kneel before his brother and leader.

"I know you're still in there. The others are scared and getting tied up in facts and details and possibilities, cause that's what they do. But I know you, and I know Donnie. You're in there, and you're fighting to come home. So, I'm gonna help you, but you have to trust me. Okay?"

He ignored the low growl that rumbled from the sliders throat as he leaned in, and he forced down the urge to flinch back into his shell when those hazy predator eyes slowly opened and settled on his. He hummed his own soothing reply, careful to keep his movements slow and measured as he reached forward to place the tips of his fingers on the pressure points on Leo's jaw and temple.

"Just me Lee. Just Mikey. Nothing to be afraid of here. We're safe. We can relax..."

Like a motor winding down his big brothers growl slowly tapered away, head nodding forwarded into Mikey's hands as the corded muscles in his neck released some of their tension.

"That’s right. Okay, here we go," Mikey mumbled, closing his eyes and bowing his head as he turned inward to grasp the bright orange flames of his ninpo.

It sprang readily to him, swirling and singing with the protective warmth of a bonfire and the potential wrath of an inferno, ready and eager to receive direction. He took half a second to greet it, to hold it close and appreciate it for all it represented, before pushing it inward to seek that place where orange fire met and melded with protective red, electric purple, and brilliant blue. The place that tied him to his brothers.

Normally that connection was easy to find. Once they'd unlocked their mystic powers to face the Shredder, it had sat like a second heart in his chest, beating out a message of love and together and family that had quickly become as essential to his life as blinking or breathing. It had remained against the strife of Leo and Raphs endless fights and surged back stronger than ever after reawakening in the battle with the Krang. It had held him together after the portal to the prison dimension nearly took their hope, and it had soothed him in the wearisome months of recovery. It was there still, yet so far away. Disparate and disjointed, baren threads struggling to hold together colors that should have been an interlocked tapestry.

Red curled away, stubbornly holding silver-grey, green, and aquamarine back from the howling vortex blue and purple had become. The twins’ energies were erratic, feral beasts throwing themselves blindly at the boundaries of connection as they screamed. Pain and confusion beat against the rest of them like storm tossed waves, pushing them back, enforcing the veil of isolation that was choking off those remaining connecting threads.

That had to go.

Pulling his flames in close Mikey lunged forward, diving like a burning arrow towards the heart of the maelstrom.

Sensation slammed him from all angles. Sight, scent, taste, touch, it had all been dialed to a hundred, stabbing and shredding like knives across tender and exposed nerves. Relentless instincts shrieked discordant harmonies, drowning all else out in a mesh of contradicting demands.

Danger. Flee! Hunt. Fight. Claw. Kill. Bite! Bitebitebitebite!

"Leo!" Mikey shouted, shouldering through the deluge in search of a hint of the red eared slider he knew and loved.

For a frighteningly long time, there was nothing. No slip of sparkling laughter, no flash of quick and glib wit, no quiet glow of cunning insight. All that existed was the moan of the abyss that sucked them in, pulling greedily at Mikey's ninpo as though to unmoor him from the bonds that tied him to home. But Mikey would not bow. He had torn a hole through time and space to keep his family whole. He was the greatest mystical warrior the world would ever know. And even greater, he was their little brother. He knew how to make himself heard.

"LEONARDO!" He bellowed, channeling every ounce of Dr. Delicate Touch as he bared his teeth at the indigo storm, "GET YOUR MIND RIGHT AND ANSWER ME!"

His heart skipped as something flickered beyond the tempest walls, a wisp of brighter blue trying to alight. His ninpo blazed in response, marigold tendrils lashing out to cut Mikey a path through the chaos. He lunged forward to cradle the fragment in his cracked hands, pulling it close as the tendrils of his power swiftly wove together to form a shield that shut out the storm.

"Leo?!"

The wisp trembled in his grasp before slowly blossoming outward into the hazy outline of his older brother.

"Mi-key?"

"It's me Lee," Mikey assured, “I’m here."

"H-hurt..."

"I know, I felt it. I'm sorry, we're doing everything we can to fix things.”

"No…You?"

"Me? No, I’m not hurt. I'm fine. So are Raphie, Dad, April and CJ. We’re all okay."

Leo's ethereal eyes drifted close in stark relief, his form wavering dangerously.

"Hey! No no no, stay with me Leo," Mikey demanded, hands shooting out to try and stabilize him. "Listen, you and Donnie are sick. Donnie got infected with a virus when we were in that creepy government lab, and you got infected when he bit you. It’s messed with some genetic stuff that I don’t really get, but that’s what is hurting you. Draxum is here and he’s coming up with some kind of fancy serum to fight the virus and try to fix the genes it mutated, but you and Donnie have to come back to us."

“I can’t…”

“Yes, you can! I’ll help you!”

"Ho-w?"

"I.... I'll get Raph and Dad! Maybe the three of us can pull you out!"

"Don-nie…."

"Of course we’ll help him too, duh."

"No. He's... he's deeper," Leo heaved, visibly fighting to pull his form together. "It's hard to... explain…I can’t think past it..."

"Yeah, well. Thinking has always been Donnie’s strong suit, not yours," Mikey replied, grinning in triumph as the hint of a smirk slipped across Leo's face.

"He’s...nerd."

"If it gets you both out of this, he can be king of the nerds. We just have to reach him."

He frowned when Leo failed to respond, reaching out to hesitantly touch his big brother’s face.

"Hey, come on man. Don't-"

"I can find him," Leo interrupted, ghostly hand rising to press against his plastron. "He's here...always here... if I follow him and... and you pull us back."

"That's risky Leon."

"Wh-hats new?"

"Heh, yeah. We be we?"

"Always Angellllll..."

A sudden wave of dizziness slammed into Mikey with the strength of Aprils baseball bat, vertigo nearly taking him out at the knees. Leo flinched as Mikey's barrier faltered, teeth gritted and grinding as the weight of maelstrom pressed in.

"Hang on!" Mikey demanded, huffing as he forced iron into his legs and more of his power into the barriers.

"You need to go."

"What?! No! I barely found you this time Leo. What if I come back and you’re gone for good?! What if you go too deep and I can't pull you out again?!"

"Tag."

"Huh?"

"Like...like your art. If y-you tag m-meee...with your ninpo..."

"Then I can follow it to you and Donnie! Like a beacon! Nardo, that's a brilliant plan!"

"Heh, s'not jus m'face that's pretty."

"Yeah," Mikey forced a chuckle around the knot swelling in his throat as the older twin’s voice grew tired and faint. Both his shield and Leo's form flickered again, accompanied by another wave of faintness that warned that what little time he had was almost up. His hands shook as he reached out and pressed his palm to Leo's plastron, gathering his ninpo to coat his fingers like paint. Three quick swipes later, a overlapping H and M was emblazoned in brilliant orange on his brothers scutes.

"Find D," he ordered, fighting back tears as he lunged forward to hug his brother. "Find him and hang on tight, because I am coming back with reinforcements. Hear me?"

"Yeah, big guy," Leo mumbled, his head falling forward to rest against Mikey's before the shield broke and his form dissolved once more. "See you later."

[rocksanddeadflowers]

so i've been listening to elysian fields way too much lately and thinking how fucked up that song is for the mechs to perform. like put death to the mechanisms out of your head (bc that basically didn't happen yet with udad) and listen.

they're immortal. they can't die. the song is all about the sweet release of death, and arguably a gentle one at that, cradled in the fields on a world were nature ceases, next to the grave of your deceased beloved. it's a beautiful song, and arguably, ulysses got their happy ending.

the mechanisms don't get that, though. most didn't even get the option of keeping mortality. they're stuck on the mortal plane, in flesh and metal, with no escape or release within reach.

their finale performance of this album is the bittersweet comfort of mortality and endings, something they're well aware they will never be granted.

[luvbloggingandreblogging]

Something About Jason Todd In The Future I Guess

Jason Todd, in the eyes of the world at large, is a mildly successful author who lives on his father’s trust fund. He is in the minority of his siblings to have a college degree, and he was missing for a significant period of time, presumed dead. He is 28 years old, and he spends his nights grappling from rooftops as part of a flock of colorfully dressed birds, striking fear into their lawless, beautiful city.

He is the Red Hood. He protects the parts of the city many glance over.

He is the only bird in this flock with fresh blood on its talons.

Two of his younger siblings are birds of prey who have learned to eat nuts and seeds. He is a songbird who has learned to hunt.

He does not do so carelessly.

It has taken him the better part of a decade, but he has learned the ways he is different to his siblings. To his father.

For them, killing would be easy.

For him, it is never easy.

He feels the blood of each body on his hands. He knows the story behind each one. This does not paralyze him, as it would his older brother, or deaden him, as it would his younger brothers.

Each person he kills has a life. Each bloody body tells a story.

He was one of those stories, once, after all. 

But every person he saves has a life, too. And every story has to end sometime. 

The Red Hood kills. It is a tool, one of many in his arsenal. Once, it might have been his tool of choice, but he knows better, now.

This flock knows better than anyone, after all, that there are worse things than death.

[spooky-jordan]

Currently ripping out my hair, writhing around on the floor, convulsing, dry-heaving, shaking and crying - (rewatching IWTB) - she loves him so much and he's been so lost without the FBI, without his quest, isolated, hiding from the world, and maybe for a second she thought "this will be good for him, this means he can stop hiding" but almost immediately he's in too deep, he's on his knees in the snow digging for bodies with his hands, obsessing, single-minded, blinded by his mission, so desperate to believe. And all she can think about are all the times she almost lost him before, how many times he cheated death, everything they've sacrificed and all the lucky escapes, the near-misses, and what if this time they don't get lucky? And she begs him to stop, to drop it, to come home, to let the FBI do their work, but even as she's saying it she knows he can't do it, he can't give up, because that's not who he is and she can't ask him to be someone else, and god damn it, what a cruel twist of fate that all the reasons she fell in love with him in the first place are the same reasons she can't follow him back into the darkness? But of course she goes after him, because that's what they do - he went to the ends of the earth to find her, once - and she finds him and he's safe, thank god, another near miss, and then it's over and they're together, and she loves him so much, but she can't quite shake this feeling that maybe next time they won't get so lucky, that maybe if it's not the darkness outside that consumes him, the darkness inside will...

[valewritessss]

If I’m being completely honest… and please don’t hate me for this I thought this a long time ago and I don’t know if I still do but… I stopped reading Kotlc when it became too much about angsty/sad Keefe and not enough everyone else

Edit: this is not an anti keefe post. I love keefe.

[flurry-of-beaus-pop-pop]

Imagine being Rio, literal Death, with the ability to erase physical pain like it never happened.

Imagine Rio's agony when she realizes that the kind of pain Agatha feels, the pain of being rejected, and misunderstood, the pain of losing everything she loves, isn't something that she can take away.

Imagine Rio's agony as she took Nicholas's soul, as she listened to Agatha beg her not to do it, as she gave Agatha pain, when her power was to take it away.

Imagine Rio loving Agatha so fiercely and so completely, because all she wants to do is heal as much of that pain as possible, to show Agatha that she understands who Agatha is, that she won't reject her, and that she will always love her.