#do you sacrifice everything you are or do you run?

[thesecondhandwoman]

ISHA’S DEATH

Sevika x fem!reader

Summary: Sevika is devastated after learning that Isha, the young girl Jinx had found and whom Sevika had grown close to, died sacrificing herself to protect Jinx during a violent incident. Stricken with guilt and grief, Sevika crumbles, unable to cope with the loss, especially since she wasn’t there when it happened. In a rare moment of vulnerability, Sevika falls apart in your arms, desperately needing comfort.

The news came like a thunderstorm on a clear day.

Sevika had always been the one who was prepared for anything, the one who could take on a hundred enemies without flinching, the one who could shoulder any burden, no matter how heavy. But this news—this thing—was different. It wasn’t a fight. It wasn’t a betrayal. It wasn’t something that could be punched out of existence.

It was a loss. A cruel, senseless loss.

Isha. The little girl Jinx had found when she was barely more than a whisper of herself, a non-verbal, rebellious spark of defiance that had found a home in the chaos of the world they lived in. Isha, the one Sevika had grown attached to, who had wormed her way into her heart with her unspoken resilience and her quiet, yet unwavering loyalty.

And now she was gone.

Sevika stood at the doorway, her broad frame framed by the dim light outside, looking like she had just been struck by a physical blow. Her eyes were wide, unseeing, staring at the floor as if it could give her the answers she needed. Her normally composed expression was gone, replaced by something raw, something wild, as if she was trying to process the unthinkable.

You had heard the whispers long before she walked through the door—gossip, rumors, half-truths—but you had hoped, prayed that it wasn’t true. That Isha was still out there, laughing her silent laugh, running circles around Jinx as they always did.

But when Sevika had stepped into the apartment, her face a mask of disbelief, you knew.

You knew that the storm was finally here.

“Sevika…” you whispered, your voice a tentative thread of concern. You had never seen her like this.

Sevika didn’t answer, and you knew she wouldn’t. She wasn’t the type to speak when words could never be enough. You approached her slowly, your heart pounding, unsure of what to do, how to comfort her when the hurt was so vast, so endless.

Her eyes met yours, and you felt your breath catch in your throat. They were empty. There was no fire in them, no hardness, no walls. Only a hollow, vast emptiness that swallowed everything in its path.

“Isha’s dead,” Sevika rasped, her voice thick, hoarse, and cracking. “She… she died saving Jinx. I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there… and she’s dead.”

The words didn’t feel real, not in the way they should. Isha was a kid, a girl who had barely started her life, a girl who’d found something like family in the wreckage of their broken world.

The details were hazy, but you had heard enough—an accident. A violent break-out. A sacrifice.

She had stepped in front of Jinx.

You felt the ground beneath you tilt. Isha had always been so quiet, so protective in her own way, but you hadn’t thought of her being so… brave. To protect someone with her life, someone who meant everything to her… to her family. You knew how much Sevika had cared for Isha—she had never said it aloud, but in the quiet moments, when Jinx was distracted or the others were fighting, Sevika had been the one to watch over the girl.

The one who tried to fill the space that had been left when everything had fallen apart.

You reached out instinctively, your hand brushing the sleeve of Sevika’s jacket, but she flinched away as if your touch was too much, too soon. It was like she couldn’t breathe, like the air had thickened and pressed against her chest.

“I wasn’t there,” she repeated, this time with more anguish, her voice cracking under the weight of guilt and helplessness. “I wasn’t there. I should’ve been there. I should’ve—”

Her voice broke on the last word, and before you could stop her, Sevika dropped to her knees. You rushed to her side, your heart in your throat, but she was already shaking. Not violently, but with that quiet tremble that comes before something breaks.

“I should’ve been there,” Sevika whispered again, almost to herself, her hands gripping the floor like she was trying to anchor herself to something solid, something real. “I promised… I promised I’d protect her.”

You knelt beside her, your arms reaching out to her cautiously. You weren’t sure if she wanted comfort, if she wanted anything from you at all. But when she didn’t pull away, you wrapped your arms around her, pulling her into your chest, pressing her face to your neck, the warmth of her breath sending a chill through your body.

Her hands clenched at the fabric of your shirt, like she was trying to hold on to something that wasn’t slipping away. Her body trembled against yours, and the soft sobs that had been building inside her finally spilled out in a quiet, guttural sound.

“I couldn’t protect her,” Sevika gasped, her voice trembling with frustration and sorrow. “I wasn’t there when she needed me. I wasn’t there when she gave herself up. I couldn’t… I didn’t—”

You shushed her gently, running your fingers through her hair, pressing her closer to you. You knew the words wouldn’t heal the wound, not now, not with what had happened. But you also knew that she needed to feel something besides the crushing weight of guilt and helplessness.

“She knew you loved her, Sevika,” you whispered, your voice soft but firm. “She knew you would’ve been there if you could. She knew you would’ve died for her. She knew.”

Sevika’s sobs deepened, her body going limp against yours as she let go of the dam she had been holding inside. She clung to you like a lifeline, her tears soaking your neck, her breath ragged and uneven. She wasn’t just mourning Isha’s death. She was mourning her own inability to protect the one person who had needed her the most, who had trusted her the most.

“I failed her,” Sevika whispered through the tears. “I failed her like I failed everything. I failed them all.”

“No,” you said softly, your hand pressing against the back of her head, guiding her gently back to look at you. “No, you didn’t. You’ve been there for them, for Jinx, for everyone. You can’t save everyone, Sevika. Not all of them.”

The words felt empty, but you couldn’t find any better way to express the helplessness that had settled over you both. The truth was, there was no right way to console someone in the face of such loss. You couldn’t bring Isha back. You couldn’t undo the past.

But you could hold Sevika. You could hold her as she crumbled in your arms.

“I’m here,” you murmured, your voice steady despite the heartbreak you felt inside. “I’m here, Sevika. You’re not alone in this. You’re not alone.”

It wasn’t much, but it was all you had to give. And, in that moment, it had to be enough.

So, you stayed there with Sevika, cradling her in your arms as her sobs slowly began to taper off into quiet, exhausted whimpers. The weight of her grief still pressed down on her like a suffocating storm, but her tears had slowed, the brokenness of it all sinking deeper into her bones.

She didn’t speak anymore—just leaned into you, her breath shallow and uneven, her body trembling in your arms as if she couldn’t quite shake the agony of the moment.

There was no magic cure for the pain she felt. No comforting words that would ever be enough to erase the guilt and loss clawing at her heart. Isha was gone, and no amount of regret could bring her back.

Still, you kept holding her. One hand pressed against her back, the other running through her hair in slow, soothing strokes. It wasn’t much, but it was the only thing you could offer—your presence, your warmth, and the unwavering understanding that she didn’t have to shoulder this alone.

You could feel her exhaustion seeping through her, the weight of everything finally wearing her down, and slowly, very slowly, her body relaxed. The tense shuddering of her muscles eased, her sobs becoming faint little gasps. You shifted slightly, adjusting your position to support her more comfortably, but she didn’t pull away.

You kept your voice quiet, just barely a whisper, speaking into the quiet space between you both. “It’s okay to rest now, Sevika. You’ve been holding on for so long… it’s okay.”

Her only response was a small, broken exhale, and then, finally, her body went completely limp in your arms. She was still—completely still—and her breath became deeper, more regular, as if sleep had finally claimed her.

The tears had stopped, leaving only the softest trace of salt on your skin. You felt her weight, the heaviness of her heartbreak, resting on you as she slept. Her face was peaceful for the first time in what felt like forever, though the faintest shadow of pain still lingered in her features.

You didn’t want to move. You didn’t want to disturb her. Sevika, the fighter, the protector, was finally letting herself fall apart, and for the first time, she was allowing herself to be weak, to be human. The woman who could take on the world had crumbled into your arms, and though it tore your heart to pieces, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of tenderness toward her in that moment.

You stayed with her, as the hours passed, your body still aching from the grief you couldn’t fix. But as Sevika slept, the sound of her breath steadying in the crook of your neck, you realized something. She had needed this, even if she couldn’t admit it. Even if she hadn’t known she needed it. She had needed to break, needed to feel the comfort of being held in someone else’s arms, to know she didn’t have to be strong all the time.

And so, you stayed.

The night passed, and time seemed to lose meaning as you sat there, holding Sevika as she slept. Her heartbeat had slowed, her face now softened in sleep, and despite everything—the tragedy, the pain, the emptiness—you felt a quiet hope bloom inside you.

Tomorrow, you would help her heal. It wouldn’t happen quickly, and it wouldn’t be easy, but together, you would find a way to carry the weight of this loss.

For now, you just held her.

And in the stillness of the night, as the world outside seemed to hold its breath, you wished you could make the ache in her heart disappear. But for tonight, you could only be there, as she rested, utterly broken—but not alone.

[the-dragon-hearted]

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.

[lalchimiedecupid]

For angsty lilia×agatha×rio inspiration? A slight alteration where Lilia didn't die at the trial, sooo consider this.

Rio has been there as long as there's been life. She was the one to see the first grass off with the first frost. She was there with the first ever person to die to taste the sweetness of poisonous berries she kissed at summer. She has been there through wars, survival, acts of sacrifice and selfless protection. Witches are short, bright-flamed sparks across the dark canvass of the night sky to her, a flame that burns so quickly she could barely notice.

Lilia has been there for over four centuries. She had been there during the most trying times, in the darkest of nights brightened by prayers and the pyres alike. She had been there before forests went thinner, before life became an endless loss of sisters and faith, before songs became blame and chants became curses. She had been there with her heart, dragging it forward in fear, and she saw the world change in ways so deep she could never find a fitting comparison, except: a candle being snuffed out in the lonely darkness. Agatha is a child next to her experience. Death? Her one true companion.

And Agatha has been there a little less. A shorter time, an even shorter experience. Blood so young and smoldering with emotions, it shines crimson. It shines warmth. Agatha, and her desires, her selfishness, her snark and laughter in the face of the most horrible. She is an old witch, yet still the youngest among all three. She is so, full, of life. They fall beautifully together. The darkness, the light, the flames of the time passage.

But – Agatha is the one to die first. Between Death herself and the witch who's had lifetime enough to fill the most demanding hourglass, Agatha's flame dies first, and they have to continue existing without its maddening, blinding light. In darkness. As they were before her.

sorry it got dark and kinda death-y but you asked and I couldn't stop word-vomiting haha

Sins of the Past Buried at the Old Creek:

I: The Fall

TW: Not specified yet, but the story will have more and more in each chapter as we discover the lives of Lilia, Agatha and Rio.

Lilia doesn't know how it happened. Why it happened. All she remembers was waking up in Agatha's embrace, cradled to her chest. The same woman who had walked out on her, walked out on Rio, walked out on everything they had built and vanished. The same woman she agreed to join on this walk down "The Witches Road". The same woman who has subconsciously comforted her after her hallucination. The same woman who had shared the story of the only scar she openly talks about while she hides the rest. The same woman who she watched yearn for Death but also run away from her. The same woman she sacrificed herself for. The same woman she now lays in her arms.

"Agatha?" She asked quietly as the brunette kept her close to her chest, where she once used to lay against, at night, or in the early hours of the morning.

"Shhh, you're okay" The younger witch said, voice hoarse and throat tight. An indication that, she either was screaming (which isn't a rare occurrence for her) or crying. Odd I know. Agatha kept to herself. Agatha refused to show signs of weakness. Agatha— Agatha loved dearly, and she hated it. She preferred to lust over the other, to let herself be driven by lust and desire, no matter how harsh and humiliating the punishment is in the second circle of hell.

After all, she was no stranger to punishment and heartbreak. In fact, she has grown to become it's own personification.

"I need a favor" Death whispered to the Sicilian witch

"A favor? From me?" A scoff. "Why? So you can wreck havoc all over again? So you may trick me into believing your claws won't dig deep into the corpses of those I try to nurse back to health?"

"Look—"

"Don't" Lilia hissed. "What do you want this time? Who is it?"

"Her name is Agatha, she's — she's with child. The pregnancy is dangerous and I— The child will be a stillborn, but I've offered her time"

A laugh. A cold bitter laugh.

"Time? You've offered her time? How come dear Mistress of Death?"

"Lilia—"

"Take a deep breath the baby lives!" The witch screamed, starling backwards with a hand to her womb, eyes wide and dissociated before slowly, they locked onto Death. "She's..That child is yours" Lilia breathed out.

"He is" Death answered ever softly. "And I— She needs someone, no one's as caring and gentle as you are"

"You want me? Your mistress to care for your child with the woman that doesn't you and I's history?"

"Please Melilla" Death doesn't beg, but sometimes in the late hours of the night, she finds herself on her knees begging for more than one thing at a time..

"I was falling" The older witch whispered as a hand so used to cause harm caressed her cheek tenderly.

"You no longer are" The words were murmured against her forehead, a small sniffle escaping Agatha.

"Soo...you two are—?" Jen asked confused with a tilt of her head.

"Don't" Agatha hissed, keeping Lilia close to her. "No no— don't sit up mea columba—" She said, keeping a tight hold onto Lilia, putting a stop to her attempt at sitting up.

"Agatha—" Lilia mumbled ever so quietly, the rasp in her voice causing waters to bubble up in the brunette's eyes.

That's when Billy knew that he needed to get Jen out of here. That and because Rio was standing in the corner with her dagger in hand, ready to chase them out.

"I'm not leaving" Jen insisted through gritted teeth as she tried to take a step forward, almost hesitantly but with pure determination. Because when Lilia looks at you with her sad eyes you can do nothing but agree to whatever comes out of her mouth.

Oh Lilia, the woman that you are.

"Jen we have to go—" Billy could only insist, grabbing the dark skinned woman by the arm and attempting to drag her away.

As soon as the doors closed in, that's what the realization settled for Agatha. Lilia was sacrificing herself. Lilia was finally giving into her suicidal thoughts. Lilia was giving up on her life for the greater good. No. No she can't let that happen.

"Billy" She could only gasp out as she grabbed the boy's face. "Listen to me" She insisted. "You want Lilia out" It sounded urgent, desperate almost.

"What —" The boy exclaimed.

"You want her out Billy! You want her out of there, you need Lilia OUT!" She said once again, on the verge of hyperventilating.

"Agatha I—"

"Focus!" She yelled once again, her hands on either sides of his face, pulling it closer to her, attempting to channel her energy.

"Focus on the Lilia you saw inside. Focus on her footsteps" The way she was holding onto his head made him both scared and slightly interested in her desperation to bring Lilia, a member of their coven, who she mocked and supposedly could care less and less about.

But none the less, Billy did as he was told, but the flashes were intense, the screeches and the sounds of the wall slowly closing on the ground. But there she was in her pink dress, falling.

"She's falling!" He exclaimed.

"Then catch her! Get her back to me!" Agatha shouted, her thumbnail digging into his cheek.

"Ow—Ow— I can't! I can't pull her back!" The teen said, face scrunched up in pain.

"You CAN! You CAN and you WILL!" She screamed into his face, causing Jen's attention to face them. "You pull her OUT RIGHT THIS INSTANCE!" She was desperate. And that was maybe even an understatement. A deep understatement.

"Pull her in, pull her to me, in my arms. Focus on the atoms in the air, surrounding Lilia, before she crashes, before she dies. Before I—I lose her" Her eyes wide and wet, full of tears she allowed herself to shed.

Sensing her despair, he focused onto the falling figure, her soul, her body and her mind, and it might've been too late now as a the tip of the sword entered her back before darkness engulfed his mind.

"LILIA!" His mentor, his hyperfixation for years, his— his whatever she was screamed as she caught onto Lilia and pulled her close to her arms.

"I'm not leaving her with them! With Death and her psychotic ex girlfriend that's also a witch killer!" The potion's witch said fiercely.

"Well then stick around and find out what happens when you stay with Death and her ex girlfriends" The line was delivered as a threatening whisper, with the dagger in hand, her skeletal body on full display. With a tilt of her head and a dangerous look in her eyes.

"Rio, don't" Came Lilia's quiet whisper.

And who knows what it is that Lilia has for both Death and the infamous Agatha Harkness to do whatever she says. But they do. They always do. And her words always work on them. When it's tenderly delivered, when it's soft and gentle, when it's words spat out of rage and pain, out of pain and sufferance.

Lilia was a soothing balm to their wounds.

You might ask yourself what wounds does Death herself have? Well, a skeleton is cold without a layer of muscles and skin. It's weak and breakable. How can it survive for so long as nothing but 'une macabre vivante'? Lilia was more than a Persephone, no, Persephone was Agatha. Once innocent now rotten to the core. Maybe she wasn't Persephone either, because God knows no innocence resides in her soul any longer. But Agatha was Agatha. Agatha was chaos and heartbreak. Was a self destructive fool but also a power hungry beast. Agatha was unpredictable. Agatha was Grief. Sorrow. Heartbreak. Agatha was all the flaws one could possess and put into one.

Agatha was good. Until she wasn't.

Rio was Rio. Rio was Death. Rio was Balance. Rio was good and was bad. Rio was nature and animals. Rio was instincts and tendencies. Rio was a mix of hedonistic dionysian and and absurd cynical. Rio is Death. The gentle breeze that kisses your blue lips and the harsh impalement that snatches you from life's warm embrace. That's who Rio truly is. The cycle of things.

And Lilia, sweet, gentle, tender, beautiful Lilia. She was life. She was light. The sun and the pretty skies. She was a Sunflower in a field of rotten suns. A lightbringer in the darkest of nights. A caress of silk and cotton. A breath of fresh air and a the smell of spring. The smell of damp mud on rainy days. The smell of the beach on a hot summer night in mid july. She was and is what brought true balance to Death and Heartbreak. She is what soothes the grief and the pain. She is what brings life to loss. She is and will always be Life.

❛°•☽☼☾•°❜

tag list:

@yourbasicqueerie there you go cousin🙏🏻🙏🏻

[ultimate-marysue]

Gotham Funger AU

For the uninitiated: Fear and Hunger (lovingly called Funger) is a duology of survival horror games featuring a similar world to ours with its own mythology. The name comes from the Fear and Hunger meters in game that, with the body meter will put the horror in surviving. It is infamous due to its difficulty and unfairness, since there’s no tutorial at all and everything can kill you, give you nasty statuses or make you lose limbs. Other claims to fame are its coin flip system that can randomly insta kill you and random generated loot (it resets each playthrough so some runs are wildly different from others depending on luck), a combat system based on chopping the enemies’ limbs (and them chopping yours off, permanently) and the games let’s just say very NSFW and violent nature. A gimmick in the first game is an orgy that heals your body and a cannibalistic feast that restores your hunger meter.

With all this in mind, here’s my idea for a funger game set in Gotham (part 1, plot and setting):

It all begins as Gotham is being evacuated (Arkham Knight style) due to Joker’s threats to gas the entire city with Joker Venom in three days. The main objective is to shut down the different gas production and distribution points across the city and defeating Joker. This is complicated thanks to a variety of Rogues accidentally or purposely blocking the way and causing their fair amount of chaos.

Due to the evacuation the streets are mostly deserted, and as the days pass the get more and more empty. First day morning you may still find some random citicens, from then on, it’s just thugs and jokerized monsters. As the days pass, previous thugs you hadn’t sent to jail get jokerized and jokerized victims get more and more monstruous following these stages:

Smiler (still mostly human, just stronger and “crazier”. They have bloody smiles and other joker features. A variety is the Brawler, bigger in size)

Agent of Chaos (humanoid but definitively no longer human. They’re tall and twisted, with more teeth. Still capable of human speech, they’ll use it to drain your Fear Meter. On a coinflip attack, they can carve a joker smile into their enemies preventing the use of rebreathers and causing damage each time you eat)

Harbinger of Madness (No longer humanoid, several mouths carved into their body, coinflip attack will eat one of your limbs resulting also in a permanent sanity de-buff),

Abomination (only on the third day, just a horrible blob off meat and smiles. It doesn’t do anything but drain your sanity, if you don’t kill it fast enough or have the ability to flee it will completely deplete your sanity meter and the character will begin the jokerization process)

All of the Funger Gods are real and exist in this world (but those that died in previous games are either forgotten or don’t hold real power) Current Gods prancing about would be: Sylvian, Gro-Goroth for the old Gods (Rher, Vinushka and God of the Depths confirmed dead by the end of Termina), All-Mer, The God of Fear and Hunger, Machine God and Sulfur Gods for Ascended Gods (All-Mer should be dying and confirmed dead by the end of the game to reflect how organized religion is dying out in this trying times).

Joker would be considered a servant of Rher, God of madness, but much like Per’kele, his real master is the God of Sulfur. Rher is dead, but madness, destruction and chaos take form in the new God and also his servant. Or at least that’s the general interpretation. Joker is actually a manifestation of the God of Sulfur, that’s why no one knows his origin and seems to be unkillable. His plan is to sacrifice the entirety of Gotham to properly finish his ascension to Godhood on Earth.

Much like in previous games the characters can cause the ascension of a new God to the pantheon: Gotham, Lady of night, cities and Justice. Basically, a Goddess that represents the path of modern cities and gives her favor to the vigilantes that protect them. She’s a good entity for the most part, but not a kind one. She is big cities given form, which means she also stands for all of the filth and depravity found within their streets. To achieve ascension and completely vanquish the Joker a character must become her Dark Knight by raising their affinity to maximum. This path will obviously be easier for Batman, but technically each batfam member could take his place (will discuss in a different part).

From a map perspective I would use the No Man’s Land map as a base. As any Funger player will tell you: the crazier the map, the better. Some areas would be completely inaccessible to make it more manageable. Other parts of the City might be only temporarily inaccessible or only accessible to certain characters. Some of this means may be: Joker or Fear gas (you’ll need a re breather), land mines (you will need a character with gadgeting or mechanic skills to disarm them), locked doors (keys, lockpicking, fighting the door, chainsaws/axes), chains (Bolt cutter, keys), blown up buildings/heights (Grappling gun).

The Bat cave acts a bit like Prehevil Bop and Donovan’s house. It’s quite a ways away, which deters the Bats from depending on it. It holds different pieces of randomly generated gear, a hexen table, ritual circle, a chest, and the Bat computer serving as a bookshelf. There are safe sleeping cots and Alfred will bring you a drink/food as needed. Other semi-safe spaces include: Jason’s safe house, the clock tower and Harley’s (a bar Harley Quinn has taken over)

Different locations may hold different resources like ritual circles, computers, side quests, main plot objective, but also enemies and rogues: Two-Face at City Hall’s Court, Penguin at the Iceberg, Killer Croc in the sewers, Poison Ivy at the Botanical Garden, Scarecrow at Arkham, and Riddler can’t be found physically but you can find riddles all over the place. The bats must balance dealing with all the rogues destroying the city while stopping the bigger threat of Joker. To be able to arrest any enemies you need to clear the GCPD headquarters (They can randomly scape) or for a more permanent solution, clear Arkham Asylum.

Part 2: Rogues

[brocedestruther]

“how much can you change and get away with it, before you turn into someone else, before it's some kind of murder?”

[harukamitsuki]

Why Izuku's motivation in fighting Muscular can be seen that way? It's because of the reasons I listed.

He didn't have to fight him. He could have grabbed Kouta and ran away, especially since Muscular isn't as fast as Izuku's Full Cowl, and the fact that Aizawa was on the camp, who could easily make Muscular's quirk ineffective, making him significantly easier to beat.

Obviously, he still mainly wanted to fight to save Kouta, but it feels strange that retreating, even if just to get more hands on deck, didn't come to him as this came after the Hosu arc. His first thought there was to grab Tenya and run, but when he saw Native, he sent a request for help.

By that point, Izuku was shown to know that engaging in a life-or-death battle alone was foolish. His first choice was to retreat, and the choice he ended up making was stall for time until back-up arrived. He didn't plan on beating Stain with Tenya and Shouto.

Rather than being a favourite fight of mine, it felt more... detrimental. A sign that MHA was on a decline. Because such a fight, with those drastic results, should have been conveyed as empowering.

With Stain, the end of the fight was relieving, as they managed to survive. Keyword: managed. None of them were should have been able to survive an encounter with him, but they did. That is what made it so relieving.

A bit of an odd comparison, but it's sort of like 'Let It Go' from Frozen. It's not a moment or scene that should be seen as great, but it is. Elsa in that moment is isolating herself from everyone, and isolation is a horrible thing to admire.

Izuku has mutilated himself in order to save Kouta. That is horrifying, at least to me. It pushes this idea that heroes are obliged to sacrifice everything in order to save someone, or at least that Izuku is ready to destroy himself for someone, and it's not a good message.

It's inspiring to see a hero or anyone push against the odds and emerge victorious in a fight that seemed so against them, but not to that degree.

Izuku nearly lost functionality in his arms, just to beat one villain, and it didn't feel like he was trapped either. I could understand if he had no other choice, but he did. And if he went to ask for help, it would in turn help this theme of, 'alone we are weak but together we are strong'.

I love Power of Friendship - Fairy Tail was one of my first anime and it still holds a dear place in my heart, so there's no judgement in the Power of Friendship move.

Heck, you could argue that Fullmetal Alchemist, known to be one of the greatest series of all time, had a power of friendship moment with everyone talking Roy down, and Ed finishing off Father.

Now, when it comes to the events you listed, with Overhaul, I agree. It couldn't have happened without everyone turning they keys at the right moments. The arc wouldn't be nearly as powerful without everyone moving the pieces, Mirio, Tamaki, Eijirou, Nighteye...

But, it still stands that Izuku faced Overhaul alone. Even in Fairy Tail, when Natsu faced off against Hades, his team were right by him. Against Acnologia, the other Slayers fought with him too.

In MHA, it was cool to see them 'pass the torch' in fight, like All Might passed the torch to Izuku, but it would have worked a lot better if everyone all at once were fighting him.

We could still get Izuku making the last move, maybe everyone gets knocked down and Izuku is the only free, or Eri's powers going out of control and Izuku is the only one who can do consistent damage to his body to prevent her quirk from affecting him.

In that case, Izuku making the final hit or combo would work to great affect, and push the idea of everyone working together as one even more.

It would also serve to highlight how hero society was weak due to All Might being the singular pillar. The 'Atlas' of sorts. However, everyone working together would hint at the idea of having multiple pillars to hold it afloat. Instead of a single person holding the world on their back, everyone is.

I mean, if you like the fight: go ahead. I'm not going to stop you. Most of this is my personal feelings, and I post this sort of content as a form of venting, rather than trying to change anybody's mind.

Rather than disliking or hating MHA, it's more like I'm disappointed with it. But, if you and others adore it and every aspect, I won't try to stop you.

In the end, anime, manga, movies, comics, games... They're all pieces of art, and art is ultimately subjective. How people percieve art and the enjoyment they get from it is personal.

Uhhh that's all. Peace ✌️

MHA Volume 33...not going to enjoy most of this I bet

Why does Bakugou get to have an opinion about Izuku? Many of Izuku's issues are Bakugou's fault! Society as a whole bears some responsibility but for real...Bakugou was the on-site bully...and not only toawrds Izuku.

Also...trying to bring Izuku in by attacking him? Way to make him feel "loved". Maybe it's not the "right" call for him to be a loner, but it's Izuku's choice.

Plus this whol series has been a confusing mass of "don't rely on others" and "rely on others" with Izuku forever being the one punished for not picking right each time.

[rintinningvt]

Do not talk to me, I'm not over the fact that Betty's existence really revolves around Simon. They both love and care for each other, and grow obsessed when separated, but goddamn- When he told their love story to Fionna, she asked him "So you got on the bus with her?" and he replied in surprise "Why would I-?" Betty Grof's life revolved around Simon, before and after they started a relationship. Heck, even before they officially met. She dropped everything to be with him, losing her sense of self in the relationship. Simon loves her but he didn't (and still doesn't, debatably) have her wants and best interests in mind. They could have gone on that trip together, she could have gone alone but they could've shared some time together on the bus and gone long distance for a while. But they didn't. They were both so enamored with each other and both lost themselves in different ways to their relationship. They were doomed from the start.

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

hey so uh about your boyfriend. yeah i accidentally whumped him too hard and he regenerated. sorry

[astoryofsuchwoe]

i like to hurt my own feelings

[windupaidoneus]

pondering. how hilde felt picking up drk. one of emet's canon classes. did it feel familiar... did he feel some measure of embarrassment when he didn't perform well enough. when fray would get upset with him did he instinctively shut him down because he would expect someone else to nag. someone who he could not even begin to put a name or face on, it just feels like something... innate. this reflex to bite back defensively when he messes up while watched by someone more skilled than him in something. he's not prideful by nature but something within him just pushes him to have some sort of ego when it comes to this in particular

& how he felt when entering ktisis hyperboreia & here emet, "great sorcerer of eld", expected black mage, goes & conjures his weapon of choice for the occasion - a greatsword he's putting to use to protect his party members with the power of the darkness within, though he wouldn't readily admit to it

[anthromimicry]

where do you carry your pain?

your arms.

you have tried to hold onto what is dear to you, only for it to be wrenched from your hands...

tagged by: @divingdownthehole!

tagging: @frostise, @redvived, @dispatched, @twcfaces, @vulpesse, and anyone else who might like to do this quiz!

[twpsyn-who]

Stiles Stilinski is my favorite/comfort character, which means that I have a deeply desire to ship him with everyone, wish pain and suffering upon himself and an unresolved need to read 'Dead Stiles Stilinski' fics.

I need more angst in my life. I need him to suffer

[infizero]

shut UPPPPPPPPPPP someone just put the clip of tiny manticore telling betty "maybe you're going after someone who doesn't exist anymore" with simon trying to bring back betty back ohhhh i feel sick

[synchlora]

and so it happens once more

[minakoaiinos]

Evangelion 3.0 was supposed to be Shinji and Kaworu's Adolescence of Utena and it just wasn't. Like it had all of the elements to make something interesting. Kaworu has been going around for two movies now asking if it's his turn to show up and it was so fucking juicy at the end of the second movie that he said he was going to make Shinji happy this time like he knows they're in a time loop and instead of time looping in the cool interesting way that Adolescence of Utena did where the original concept repeated itself to the point it cycled back around and gave an alternative ending that said new interesting things about the themes we have been talking about all along, Eva 3.0 just relied on us caring about the original in some kind of vague yaoi way and tossed in some piano aesthetic and ultimately didn't say or do anything new when it was literally supposed to. It's just one more side effect of what I think is a fault of all the rebuild movies so far- the animation is so polished that it's lifeless and all of the important character work is completely lost in the shuffle until it feels lifeless too.

But considering how much Kaworu tipped the narrative in the original anime despite how little screen time he had and how much he's been hyped up here I really expected something new here and didn't get it. Part of what made the Kaworu narrative in the original anime so interesting was that for twenty something episodes we felt Shinji's loneliness and isolation and we trudged through so many episodes with it that Kaworu's presence felt like such a palpable relief in how he wanted to talk to Shinji and touch Shinji and it was also completely sinister in that he was just saying those things because that was just what Shinji wanted to hear. None of that was conveyed in 3.0 and that would be fine if it said something else interesting about their situation and it literally said nothing at all.

[curryshesus]

jeon jungkook fics that had me going feral

hi guys, here's a part 2 to my favorite jjk fics on tumblr! note that many of these fics contain 18+ content. you are responsible for the content you consume! as always, if you enjoyed any of these fics as much as i did, please take a moment to send some love to the authors! part 1 | other bts members

➺ cold nights & blurred lines - by @awrkive

summary: jungkook and you have been in a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. but as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? it definitely is. will you do something about it? both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.

➺ night crawlers - by @alphabetboyluvr

summary: jungkook’s always been good at running. track, field, red lights, shit outta luck. drugs, now, too. but he doesn’t expect to run into you. in your shared lecture halls, sure. maybe. but not down the back alleys of daerim at ass o’clock in the morning. there are only three types of women he ever sees in daerim: hookers, sugar-babies and addicts. you aren't any of those; you're a trust-fund baby who can get percocet on private repeat prescription, if you really want it. he's sure of it. so it then further begs the question: why the fuck are you here?

➺ this is how you fall in love - by @jeonqkooks

summary: after years of drinking and clubbing most days of the week and leaving every gig with a different girl on his arm, jungkook feels what it’s like to want someone with his entire being.

➺ the dilf installments - by @mercurygguk

summary: this series follows jungkook’s life as a divorced father. but wait, how exactly does one balance being a father, a boyfriend, a friend, and a respectable boss at the same time? read the installments below to find out!

➺ ultimatum - by @parkmuse

summary: your pervy, idiotic boyfriend just so happens to also be your friendly neighborhood Spider-man (in bed).

➺ a hero's journey - by @hansolmates

summary: jungkook and jisoo are the mightiest power couple. however, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. you realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story

➺ tempest - by @kooktrash

summary: you’ve always considered your life to be more mundane than you would like to admit. it was a constant cycle of the same things over and over again that when you meet jeon jungkook at a bar, of all places, you didn’t expect to see just how much he would change your life and those around you. he’s got an air of mystery around him with his charming good looks and a violent past that you slowly begun to unravel when it feels like everything is going perfect.

➺ by its cover - by @gimmesumsuga

summary: the one where Jungkook makes a horrifically bad first impression.

➺ slow dancing - by @yoonia

summary: when your countdown appeared on your wrist right in the morning of your eighteenth birthday, you had thought that perhaps the universe was on your side, especially since the final seconds were already ticking so soon. You just never expected to have your first meeting with your soulmate to be the day when you had to let him go. But hope was not lost when you still found love without the bond, and Jungkook showed you that it was possible to find happiness beyond the system that was written for you. Except that the universe doesn’t seem to have enough of its game, when your past sacrifice comes back hitting you straight in the face, just when you had believed that you had written off the perfect ending to your bittersweet tale.

➺ e s p r e s s o - by @joonberriess

➺ hold me closer - by @ahundredtimesover

summary: when you're asked to look after your parents' house and meet them before they go on vacation, you, Jimin, and Jungkook take the trip to your hometown of Busan and relive memories of your youth. While your new relationship has you feeling like a lovesick teenager with all the affection that Jungkook shows you, you're still you - a professional trying to make it in the corporate world, and an eldest child trying not to disappoint her parents. And that turns out to be your undoing, as a little blunder causes a rift between you and Jungkook, resulting in a trip that you might as well have messed up… Not if your brother can help it, though.