#khada is love khada is life

[skigg0]

okay so what if i casually started crying and screaming

today is eli vanto day

[hexopium]

what if i simply named this ship black lotus and let them live rent free in my head…

[perfect-fourth]

Continued from here

@vixtionary @notoriousness

𝄌 Everything had to be perfect.

Not only for the sake of the Grand General's life, but for his own. Their continued existence was only a fraction of why he wanted everything to be set accordingly, though. More important than this, the preservation of his pride was what really drove him to double, triple, quadruple check that every candle was in place, every sigil marked with a single stroke, every bind tightened just enough to sting but still allow circulation to flow.

Bedecked in a well-fit etched satin robe in hues of red black, and gold, a soft humming of an Ionian war song created a haunting echo in the otherwise silent chasm of the Immortal Bastion's bowels, perhaps unnerving the man even further than the situation called for. The deceptively gentle smile he wore on pouty lips was far too content for what was about to take place; leave it to Khada Jhin to find perverse joy in carving the flesh of the man he proclaimed with insistence to love.

That smile was surprisingly not concealed by any sort of mask for this event. He'd chosen to forgo the comfortable camouflage all together, to show off the expertly painted lines on his face(ceremonial makeup), but more importantly, to let the Noxian and his comrade see the light in his expression. He wanted them to know how much he was enjoying this, for once not self-concious about what might be determined from his features, but rather, delighting in the disgust he was certain to bring about in either of their hearts. He wanted them to know how much he took pleasure in this.

His humming ceased the second Jericho spat a command at him to quiet down, but his smirk didn't falter. He was in his own sort of trance-- he'd made certain to clear his mind and his body of any distractions the second he'd risen that day, hours spent forcing himself into such a pristine and relaxed state that there was almost nothing that could rattle his senses in that moment, not even that ever present feeling of being observed. A simple, soft tilt of his head was all he gave him in an acknowledgement of his complaints. He would have typically delighted in shooting back a witty retort, commenting on how he hadn't hadn't cut into his flesh yet and he was already whining-- his silence was more unnerving than any sass could have been.

One gloved hand gave the binding round the Grand General's wrist a single additional tug, just to emphasize who was in control here-- it would soon make its way up to give his cheek a loving stroke. He parted ways with the man after this to go do as he'd been told, gliding like a specter towards each sturdy burner with a candle in hand to ignite them in order, inhaling deeply the scent he would later come to associate with this ordeal.

Once properly burning, he'd make his way over to the nearby ornamental table; which held on it a tincture of herbs and medicines that he'd already taken the liberty of mixing, sat beside a dagger. It was the same blade he'd offered the man not long ago to mark him with, freshly whet and brought to an impossibly sharp edge. The knife was touched momentarily in a wistful display of unnecessary dramatization before he'd make use of the tincture; pouring a chalice full and carrying it to the man who sat so helplessly before him. The concoction was carefully brought to his lips.

"Open your mouth." A demand nobody ever wanted to hear from the likes of the Golden Demon.

[boloragu]

I CAN PUT ALMOST EVERY SHADOWSUN SKETCH IN ONE POST, YAAAAY!!! So let's go😎

Universe "shadowsun"

Timeline: from 2012 to 2020

Place: Russia, mosty Khabarovsk

Main characters: Zed, Kayn, Sona (there are many of them, but these are most important ones)

Pairings: Zed/Shen (non-reciprocal love of Zed), Zed/Kayn (But idk how innocent it will be...), Rhaast/Kayn (Psychological horror), Khada Jhin/Zed (Drug user/Komsomolets, excellent), Yevnai/Shen, Zed/Master Yi, Yasuo/Master Yi and etc. (List of heroes is unstable)

Annotation of the plot:

Not much, not a little, and the student of the law faculty has moved in Khabarovsk: he finished with repairing grandmother's apartment, met a charming man, began to establish work in the office...

...until the boy knocked on his door in hysterical crying. From this boy and the Russian mountains began in the life of Gene, or Zed.

Topics:

— family-household

— Friendship and love

— Psychological

— Morality and Ethics

— Taboo in society

— Philosophical

— The place of music in the life of a person

Rather it will be like Young-Adult work...

Facts:

— "Shadowsun" although can send to the Zed as a shadow, and to the Sona as to the Sun, but Zed calls the sun specifically Kayn. Therefore, if you hear the "shadowsun", then it should first be associated with Zed and Kayn.

— Previously, the group was called as "RATTLING FRYING PANS" (ГРЕМЯЩИЕ СКОВОРОДКИ). But this name was refused due to lack of lyricity.

— Most of the group members will appear in 2018-2019 in the plot.

— It's planned to devote most of the time for youngsters of Kayn until he'll receive a guitar in his 15 years. But I'll think about it.

— On the 15th birthday, a little boy Kayn receives an electric guitar of his dreams, and suddenly offers his best friend to create a rock band. Zed eventually agreed.

— Kayn is schizophrenic. Without rofls, seriously. This will be devoted to several episodes.

— Rhaast is a Kayn's imagination. Perhaps soon Kayn will be thrown back because of him.

Welcome ^^♡

[priyanshi005]

Pyar tha ya attachment?

Jab paas rehna ho to pyar, door jana ho to attachment .

Bhoolna itna asaan hai kya?

Agar 2 saal ke baad kisi se baat bandd kardo to bhool jate hain?

Ab ansu bhi nahi aate?

Par dard hota hai andar hi andar kuch khaa raha hai, jaise kahin se koi awaaz aa rahi ho ki ye sirf ek attachment nahi ho sakta.

Pyar hai to nafrat hai, gussa hai, jalan hai wo sab hai jo bura hai because you can't hurt someone you don't love.

Kaise koi insaan sirf 7 dino mein pasand aa gya aur 2 saal baad itni khamiyan nazar aane lagi ki na baat karne ki himmat hai aur na hi kuch samajh ya samjha paane ki.

Kahi kisi se milkar lagta hai ki ye sirf mera rehna chahiye par uska kya jab use tumse behtar koi milega ya tumse behtar koi treat karega tab tum kya kar loge rok loge use, manaoge kya?

Nahi, sirf tab pata chalta hai ki ye pyar hai ya attachment, pyar to nahi jata par attachment chala jata hai.

Jo insaan tumhe change karna chaahe wo pyar nahi hai par jiske liye tum khudme change lana chaho wo pyar hai.

Ek time par jis insaan ke bina har mehfil adhuri lagti ho aur ek din wahi insaan ek problem lagne lag jata hai jaise agar wo aa jaayega to main shayad khulke na reh paaun.

Jis insaan ke sath naam judne ke baat butterflies aate the ab wahi insaan ka naam sunkar ek ajeeb sa darr lagne lagta hai ki ye kahin sab barbad na karde.

Official insecurities bhi badh jaati hai, financial bhi jaise wo insaan saath rehke har cheez bigad dega.

Shayad kisi se door jaane ke liye yahi kuch karan hote ho.

Par kuch aur bhi to hai jo saath la raha tha jahan har jagah sirf ussi ka saath chahiye tha room ho ya working place fir kya hua?

Standards match nahi hote ya image effect ho jaati hai?

Kyu itni insecurities or jalan aa gayi kyu har waqt ek darr laga raha aur jo ek time par pyar tha wo ek formality banke reh gaya.

Ye line bolna asaan hai ki pyar acceptance se aata hai par jab accept karne ki bari aati hai to khamiyan nazar aane lagti hai.

Khudko badalna zaruri hai khudse pyar karna zaruri hai.

Jab ek success ke paas ho aur doosra sirf ek hi ladder par khada ho tab disrespect aati hai tab ek insaan neecha feel karta hai chaahe samne wala na bhi kara raha ho, wo kab kara bhi deta hai ye use bhi nahi pata hota aur tab hi zarurat hoti hai har wo cheez ki jo zaruri hai par maangne se milegi kya?

Ye to pyar ka kaam hai na ki success aur failure ko sahi dhang se samajh paaye.

Jab use kuch mile to aisa lage ki mujhe kuch mila.

Par kyu ye sab sirf ek fiction lagne laga kyu understanding ki jagah tere paas sab kuch to hai aa gaya.

Is it possible to be the most important person in someone's life and then suddenly be completely neglected?

Jab pyaar mein pyaar na ho, Jab dard mein yaar na ho,

Jab aansu mein muskaan na ho, Jab lafzon mein zubaan na ho,

Jab intezaar sirf waqt ka ho, Jab yaad uss kambakht ki ho,

Kyun hun main rahi, Jab woh hai kisi aur ki manzil.

[urvishmehta]

Memories, Memes, Musings and Memoirs

(On what the T20 World Cup 2024 meant, and what it will continue to mean)

They say, you cannot script fairy-tales without introducing demons. Poetic endings are impossible without a phase where rhythm is found lacking. Climaxes need prior anti-climaxes to ensure that happy endings are earned and not just bestowed.

Sports is cruel, because it has the ability of igniting recurring hope. And hope is something which can polarise the state of being. It can often convert bouts of laughter into wry smiles. It can both enable and restrict positive imagination.

The unary outcome of sports leaves no room for multi-valued assessment of defeats. Statistics overpower sentiments, because the podium does not recognise how intensely the defeated wanted to be the victor.

The 2024 T20 World Cup win is like a bandage which just not conceals the wounds, but has curative properties to heal them from within. The victory feels like a weary desert traveller seeing an oasis, mentally considering it to be a mirage, and ending up finding that it exists in actuality. It is like a dreary yet a determined student working tirelessly to clear an elusive final exam, to find that the marksheet finally has the words "Cleared with distinction". It is like finding the love of your life waiting for you on the wedding altar, after a tumultuous heart-wrenching romantic chronicle.

The context arc couldn't have been more articulative. A legendary player turned coach, who in his playing days could never lay hands on the prized silverware. A man-next-door captain, with child-like innocence and heroic intent. An indefatigable champion, the master of run chase, with a trophy cabinet defined more by empty spaces than insertions. A celebrated all-rounder, coming from the annals of darkness and soul-crushing hatred. A demi-God masquerading as a leader of the pace bowling attack.

The Indian team's mega-tournament legacy was punctuated with the consistency of their inconsistency in the must-win matches. The "30 minutes of bad cricket" which costed tournaments and championships. The surrender of momentum. The trade-off of assertion with caution. The overwhelming, and sadly, over powering pressure. Analysis paralysis. Unsettled combinations and unsettling dynamics. The missing big day composure.

And yet, in a fitting manner, it took one leap for India to get over the finish line. History was erased, and created, all at the same time.

One additional reason why the victory feels hyper-personal, is due to the amplification effects of social media. No match experience is complete unless memes are traded, reels are assimilated and feeds are scrolled through. The information and reaction influx is vastly penetrative, overwhelmingly vast and frighteningly real-time. Athletes have no hiding space. It takes only a few moments for an activity to be analysed bare-bones at a mass scale.

Yet, for whatever it is worth, it makes the fan experience very engagement-heavy. Fan involvement (and sometimes interference) assumes epic proportions. The constant imagery of knock-out defeats almost traumatised an entire generation in India. It induced gloom, despair and even pessimism. We forgot what it meant to win a multi-nation tournament. Victories were lived only through nostalgia. Khada hoon aaj bhi wahin, lagi teri hi aas hai, Kaisi hai yeh bebasi, yeh kaisi dil ki pyaas hai. This World Cup victory, however, applies more than a veneer to this tarred virtual imagery. This triumph provides both happiness and relief, which are more often than not, mutually exclusive feelings in the world of sports. This, I believe, is the summary of what this conquest means.

Tutaa yeh dil toh kyaa hua, abhi baaki hai dhadkane dhadkane, Baaki hai hum me dum, har kasam ko phirse dohrao. Hai sadaa har dil ki, har sadaa ko milke dohrao.

In the Bradman Oration of 2011, Rahul Dravid had mentioned - "After India won the World Cup this year, our players were not congratulated as much as they were thanked by people they ran into". I often wonder and think about the depth of this statement. There is no bigger platform than cricket in India as far as extension of one's supposed representation is concerned. The everyman on India's street thinks that this victory is not restricted to the eleven individuals who donned the blues against South Africa. This victory is also his, both privately and publicly. There is a collective social ownership of India lifting the cup. This sporting romanticism is a feeling to behold and treasure.

When the books of Indian cricket get written and re-written, this chapter will be laced with episodes of resilience, belief and assertion.

This was the midnight which took away the sporting nightmares of Indians and replaced them with sublime day-dreams.

[violent--whispers]

❥νισℓєηт--ωнιѕρєяѕ || Iɴᴅᴇᴘᴇɴᴅᴇɴᴛ ❦ Cᴀɴᴏɴ-Based ❦ Sᴇʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ || This blog is dedicated to a canon-accurate exploration of the character Khada Jhin from League of Legends. OC & multiverse friendly.

Asks always open. { TAGS } [ 18 + ;; ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀʟ ᴀᴅᴜʟᴛ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇs. ] [ Aᴄᴛɪᴠɪᴛʏ Lᴇᴠᴇʟ: Vᴀʀɪᴇᴅ ] [ @sazayaki = Mᴀɪɴ Aᴄᴄ. ]

❥Worthy of my presence: @rairb ❦ @tealbeats ❦

Rᴜʟᴇs & Iɴғᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ Bᴇʟᴏᴡ

RULES||

Response times will vary from day to day. Lack of response is rarely an indicator of me not wanting to interact anymore, so I ask that you just be patient. If I wish to drop a thread I'll let you know, and I expect those who interact with me to do the same.

Please just use common human decency when interacting. Also, godmodding & powerplaying will not be tolerated.

Writing for a ship is something I'm willing to try with very trusted mutuals ONLY. Plotting will be required beforehand, as I've a very specific way of writing Jhin in romantic scenarios that not everyone will be comfortable with - he's a criminal psychopath, after all.

Along with the above, NSFW dynamics are something I'm willing to plot for after we've built trust. That said, be aware: I'm not always going to be interested in such things - it's purely dependent on the dynamics of our muse's interactions.

Previous rules in mind, please remember that the beliefs and/or behaviors I write in Jhin do not necessarily correlate with my own.

Formatting (or lack thereof) isn't super important to me as long as things are readable & clean.

I tend to get detailed with my interactions & in most cases will end up going multi-para; I expect my energy to be matched at least somewhat, but I don't mind one-liner interactions here & there.

Honesty is important; if there's something wrong, please do not hesitate to let me know. I'm always willing to chat if anything I've written doesn't sit right with you, or if you feel we should part ways as RP partners.

GENERAL INFORMATION||

|| Ice/Saza ❦ 32 ❦ Canada ❦ She/Her || ❥I'm somewhat new to the Tumblr RP scene but have some years of general experience in the hobby under my belt. I came here primarily for League of Legends-related content but am certainly willing to interact with those outside that universe, be it an OC or otherwise. As a lil disclaimer: I'm Autistic & League in general as well as Jhin are my special interests, so be aware that my passions naturally run into a territory that some may consider overbearing. My goal is simply to be a place that produces highly accurate portrayals of The Virtuoso. Honestly, my love for Jhin extends outside of just enjoying his lore, in fact, he's a sole part of my daily life and plays a role in my beliefs regarding the afterlife. He's very important to me so I take writing him very seriously, though I'm certainly not against making fun of him or indulging in some memery, heh. Anyway, the point is while I do cherish Jhin an abnormal amount to what most might be used to, I'm quite a realistic & open-minded person, meaning I'm not going to cause a scene if others I interact with have different views about him or anything like that. In my eyes, there's enough room spanning over many universes to fit everyone's version of their faves without needing to make it so other versions should be erased. I know a lot of folks here love their characters deeply, so I figured I should mention all that here. I love Jhin so much and can't wait to show my version of him to those who are interested! Thanks for reading my unhinged rambling~

[onefallafternoon]

I'm still there.

I'm still there. After all these years, I'm still there. My friends have moved on in life, and I guess that's really awesome. They are starting an actual new chapter in life, whereas I still can't fathom a life without them. They look like they moved on, but I can't even think of moving on. Life fucking sucks, and I wish I could talk to them about it, but I don't know who'll listen to me. I don't know with whom I am that comfortable to share that much and that contributes to not being able to talk. So, I can only hope that I get more friends in college, a fresh start. I am also worried that mixing my one old friend with whom I'm going to college with, with people I have a chance of meeting will go bad, as I feel like I can't devote the attention he needs to him, if we partake in a joint friend group. I hope I can either keep them separate without hurting him, or mix the two friend groups together somehow. As for my hopes about college, I am desperately praying to god to give me the romanticized version of college. I want to be political, as I admire the passion shown by student unions in movies, however I don't know how much of it is true. I want to fall in love, and hopefully it gets returned back. I want to not pretend this time, and say what I truly feel and be what I truly am from the inside. I want to get rid of my feeling that everything that I make can be cashed in for some attention, whether it's the stupid jokes, or the poetry or excerpts I sometimes write so that others would compliment me even though I don't know what I'm writing about. I feel like a fraud, making stuff up as I go, to get the attention I so desperately need. For other lesser things, I hope to get into the basketball team, as I want a jersey of my own so so badly, and a band, so that I could put my ukulele skills to use, maybe relearn the guitar properly and get good at it. Maybe even writing songs of my own. I hope to write the consciousness switching story I have in mind. I hope to say goodbye to my friend, who's moving out of state, properly. Khada hun aaj bhi wahi Ki dil fir bekaraar hai Khada hun aaj bhi wahin Ki tera intezaar hai Chhoo lo jo mujhe tum kabhi Kho na jaun main raat-din Nazaron mein tum ho base

[curtaincalling]

one of jhin’s issues (of which he has MANY) is that he really doesn’t know how to deal with negative emotions. emotions like happiness are far easier for him to express, but anger, sorrow, fear— those aren’t written into the script of khada jhin. just look at his mask— it’s smiling! 

and so even unmasked, even when no one is around to see him, jhin will always express negative emotions through the lens of something positive. so when he’s scared or angry or devastated, he’ll smile and laugh. because khada jhin is written as a creature of beauty and light. he is supposed to spin horror and death, sorrow and fear, into something lovely.

[runeterrankhaleesi]

Hey ... Khalii ...

Could I be evil and ask for a day 2, day 5, and day 29 combo (one story with 3 elements) with Khada Jhin, reader receiving? I miss my gay murder husband-

[A/N: Hello darling. Of course you can get one story with 3 elements. Happy birthday! I hope you enjoy this one as well. I unfortunately can't physically send gifts to you, so think of this story (and the other one) as so. I think this will be a two parter or a...two rounder ;) XD  anyway...Thank you for making a request. You may ask again for more.]

{NSFW} Kinktober Scenario Prompt #2 [Collaring], #5 [Breeding], and #29 [Shibari/Kinbaku]

Jhin can confidently say that no one in his life has ever meant more than you do and he was willing to prove it with every fiber in his body. You mean more to him than art, he would gladly give it all up if it meant he could spend the rest of his life with you; live quietly with you and your children. 

     He had thought long and hard about what to give you on your birthday, after all, everyone should have a present on their birthday, it would simply be wrong not to receive one. Then it came to him. What could be better than professing his everlasting and undying love to you on your special day in the most intimate way?

      He knew you from the inside and out. Your favorites-ranging from movies to books to art pieces and more. He knows you like the back of his hand, memorized you even. He could draw you from his memory if he wanted to and it would be an obra maestra. You could even be a maze, challenge him to go into it blindfolded and he would know all the twists and turns and get out. He knows every single crevice; every thing that makes you tick; every single detail about you. That's how much he's paid attention. That's how much he loves you and he plans to show it all tonight.

     First, he took you out on a romantic dinner to the restaurant where you had your first date. Then, he brought you to an art gallery showing the lastest pieces from young and upcoming artists, talking for hours on end and having different analysis about each piece.

     It was when he realized that no one else can ever resonate with him than you do. He doesn't believe in gods, no, but he believes in fate and that all things happen for a reason. Whoever it was, whichever god wrote his fate and changed the course of things, he thanks them endlessly for letting him have the chance to meet you-his soulmate; his one and only. A match made in heaven, as they say.

     After the gallery, you both enjoyed a quiet walk home, strolling through the streets of Ionia hand in hand with your steps synchronized with each other, feeling all giddy happy once he noticed. 

     Maybe "excited" was an understatement. Once you both reached your shared home, he took off your coat before his, hanging it both on the hanger by the door. 

     This is it. The finale to his performance.

     You make your way to the kitchen to grab yourself a glass of water, gulping down the cold liquid, feeling refreshed once it hit the back of your throat. You yelped and almost choked when two arms suddenly snaked around your torso, "Jhin!" You manage to exclaim after a small coughing fit. He's unfazed, humming a little tune as he tightens his grip around you, lowering himself so he meets your exposed nape. It starts with small kiss, feeling you shiver in his hold from the sensation of his hot breath blowing on your neck. He kisses his way forward nudging your chin with the tip of his nose as a way of asking more access which you gladly grant, feeling you relax in his hold as he starts to suck and bite the skin of your neck, leaving a light trail of saliva and hickies. His hands start to travel downwards, inching their way down your thighs and finding rest in between your legs where he starts to toy with you through your clothes. You mumble out his name breathlessly as if all the air in your lungs has gone and left you. "Yes, dear?" He looks at you  and your face contorted in pleasure through lidded eyes, his ever changing colored irises glowing dark with want and lust. His hand speeds up as he feels something wet, the corners of his lips turn up as he watches you squirm in his hold, rubbing your thighs together, practically riding his hand.

     Needless to say, it strokes his ego that he can elicit this type of reaction from you. Breathlessness, on the brink of release, begging him to move his faster so you could cum. It only fuels him. He would make this a night you would never forget. Goodluck to the next man trying to size up against the literal Golden Demon, that is, if you ever leave him.

      He raises his head, his lips in level to your ear, his breath fanning over your earlobe, sending a shiver through your spine yet again. He smiles to himself before suddenly biting down on your ear, sending you over the edge and garnering the most sinful moan he's ever heard come out of your pretty mouth. "Say, darling, how about we move to the bedroom?" You could only meekly nod.

~~~~~~~

     How many times have you come really? Your memory became hazy after you came for the second time. Honestly, your body was too sensitive and overstimulated to the point that a simple tap from Jhin's finger has you shivering. Your thighs are still twitching, you're sore after the abuse you took from Jhin's length. He can be really merciless. You're tired and you're sure that you won't be walking for the next week but you don't want him to stop, you want him to keep going until he's milked himself and plugged your hole with his cum, until he's pumped a baby into you, just as you always wanted. 

      Well that's one thing to cross off his list: fuck you stupid till you can't even form a coherent sentence.

     You're absolutely drenched in sweat that your hair sticks to your skin, the bed is a huge mess but it doesn't do justice to how much of a mess you are right now. Jhin's cum is dripping down on your thighs, it feels hot and sticky, your knuckles are white from gripping the sheets and the pillows so tight. The rope is starting to burn and leave red marks on your skin, oh how will you attend work at this point? His work with the red ropes tied around your body was beautifully done, you looked like an intricate nude art piece, the ropes were tight in the right places, especially in places where you were plump, and it seemed that the placements of knots were somehow planned despite him telling you that it all random. Of course, art is nothing with a subject; the center of attention-that being your pussy, competing against the ropes of who was more redder. The collar round your neck wasn't helping either.

     You're lying on your stomach, ass directly facing him. He pulls your hips upwards, making you go on all fours, he feels you wobble in his hands and he can't help but feel satisfied. 

     His tip teases your swollen entrance before pushing his whole length inside you until you can feel his balls right on your ass, your back arches, still struggling to take him whole. He steadies your hips and starts to thrust again, slowly gaining speed until he was hammering into you once again.

     Were you in heaven? It all felt so perfect. His rather thick and long cock stretching your walls, hitting that spot everytime he slammed back into you, your and his' mixed juices spilling out your pussy as he continues to drill into you, the sound of squelching and slapping resonating in the dark room. His hand travels to your stomach, already imaging how pretty you'd look with a round stomach, knowing full well that his babies are in there. He was more than ready to fuck you until morning, just to make sure you'd be pregnant the next month.

      You moan into your pillow as another knot twists at the bottom of your stomach. "Daddy- I'm close-" The sheets are bundled up in your fists as you feel yourself threathening to spill, he feels you coming close as your walls tighten on him and hold his cock buried deep inside you in a vice like grip. Jhin reaches for the chain dangling from your collar and pulls on it, choking you while simultaneously making you cum on his dick again, rewarding him with the most loudest, most sinful, most vulgar moan he's ever heard come out of your pretty little mouth tonight, more than happy to fuck you a little more through your high. He doesn't pull his length out of your very red and swollen pussy, reasoning that he doesn't any of his seed to spill out, nevertheless, you collapse on the bed from exhaustion. He'll let you off and rest for tonight. I repeat: For. Tonight.

[ao3feed-piltovers-finest]

V for Vengeance

by Agent_Of_The_Dawn

It's been 5 long years, full of pain, suffering and struggle. 5 years passed since her life burned to the ground, her loved one murdered, person she cherished, destroyed her heart and supposed friend betrayed her. Now she's coming back to Piltover, with mission and purpose, she is vengeance, and all those who would cross her, shall feel her wrath.

Words: 7017, Chapters: 2/15, Language: English

Fandoms: League of Legends

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Categories: F/F, F/M, Multi

Characters: Vi (League of Legends), Caitlyn (League of Legends), Camille (League of Legends), Jinx (League of Legends), Jayce (League of Legends), Rengar (League of Legends), Rumble (League of Legends), Graves (League of Legends), Khada Jhin (League of legends), Braum (League of Legends), Volibear (League of Legends)

Relationships: Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends)

Additional Tags: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Military, Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Magic, Lesbian Character

from AO3 works tagged 'Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends)'

[devoteurselves]

ooh i love words

last song: keep your eyes peeled - ultra sunn

fave color: blue and orange… but not together, bc of thrawn and wrecker (i associate wrecker w orange bc of s2 also bc i’ve always loved orange)

last movie: megamind

last tv show: blue eye samurai (on my third rewatch..)

last book: thrawn: alliances (i havent touched it since like chapter 9 or 10 tho)

last game: kirby super star ultra (on my nintendo lite u.u)

sweet/savory/spicy: spicy

relationship status: almost 2 years w mi amor <3

last thing i googled: the battery life for my phone type

current obsession: cats, star wars, space (wow surprising, this actually came before sw surprisingly enough)

greatest flaw: im not sure if it’s that fact that i cant tell when other people are being sarcastic or the fact that i’m so sarcastic people can’t tell when i’m serious or not

idk who else to tag, im rarely on here wth khada

People i'd like to get to know better

Was tagged by @ele-millennial-weirdo and very happy about it.

Last song: Goo Goo Muck - by The Cramps

Favorite color: ironically purple

Last movie: Howl's moving castle, love ghilbi movies

Last TV show: The new Addams family

Last book: Thrawn Ascendancy: Chaos rising, shoking I know

Last game: Hades

Sweet/savory/spicy: savory

Relationship status: singel

Last thing googeld: Star wars loth cat, for drawing refarence purposes.

Current obsession: Thrawn and the Chiss navigators

My gratest flaw: starting a fic just to start another when I reached chapter 3

NPT: @littlekhada, @netmors, @gia-batmm-crickle22, @riachuelowii, @najakkkkkkk, @thrawnalani , @collateral-brain-damage , @wwapich , @mandhos

[perfect-fourth]

𝆺𝅥 One. Two. Three. Four.

Submerged underwater, everything above him melted away into a meaningless echoed distortion.  It wavered and whispered hints of a world that didn't matter in those moments, a world that for the briefest time, was disconnected from the man beneath the surface. He could hear his own heart pulsing in his ears, a steady and rhythmic percussion. A drum beat.

Five, six, seven, eight.

Khada Jhin had always had an affinity for the water, before he'd even known who Khada Jhin was. Perhaps it was in the way it made him feel; the weightlessness and comfort of being swallowed by something so amorphous and unpredictable and great. Cradled by the arms of the sea, he felt infinitesimally small, and yet he chased that sensation with all the unbridled recklessness of any youth who had yet to grasp the concept of mortality, swimming further and further away from the coast until he saw only the suggestion of land in the distance. He imagined the ocean was the sky, and he was a solitary star, a blinding flicker drifting in the reflection of the endless cosmos. It was a game for him back then, to see how far he could go, how deep before the currents pushed him back to shore. That was, until the day they didn't.

Thirty-seven. Thirty-eight. Thirty-nine. Forty.

The waters were calmer than usual, and when he'd gone out, he felt confident in his ignorance. How far could he go? He saw in the far, far distance, a small island of rock. It was a goal he set for himself every time he escaped to this patch of beach, and one that he felt in his gut he could reach that day. He was well rested, and for the first time in ages(at least, from the perspective of someone who'd only lived 11 years), father had let him skip out on his training. It was the new year, after all, and it brought with it many superstitions that the boy was happy to exploit on behalf of his Old World father. He was untouchable on that day, he could do as he wished so long as it didn't provoke any nasty spirits or bring any bad luck onto their family, as small as it was.

Fifty-three.  Fifty-four.  Fifty-five.  Fifty-six.

He'd begun to regret this decision when his arms grew weighty in the tepid waves.  Still, he was closer to his rocky destination than he was to the shore.  Perhaps if he could reach it he could rest there for a time before making the long swim back to land.  

Fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine, sixty.

The riptide caught him 30 feet or so from his objective.  He’d already been close to his limit before then, but the sudden shift in the waters’ motion caught him off guard, and brought him under in the struggle to fight against it.  The panic that set in ignited his tired limbs, but his efforts were fruitless against the pull of the water.  He swallowed some, choked on it and warbled about until exhaustion overrode panic and he stopped battling against the flow of the current.  

  Sixty-nine.  Seventy.  Seventy-one.  Seventy-two.

When his eyes opened beneath the water, he caught sight of something pale and blurry through the heaviness of his own oxygen-deprived lungs.  As the waves pulled him closer, his mind recognized the outline through the sapphire haze: a hand, a human hand, slender fingers that glimmered with gold and jewels and beckoned him to breech the distance that threatened to sacrifice him to the arms of the sea for as long as time would grant.  When his hands both latched hold to the one in the water, he felt no effort made to pull him up.  All he felt was cold skin beneath his fingers that seemed to slip against his grasp off a mannequin-stiff limb.  There was no room for shock until after he’d used the last vestiges of life left in his sore muscles to yank himself up onto the sharp rocky islet.   

Seventy-three, seventy-four, seventy-five, seventy-six.

It was the first time he’d seen a corpse up close; let alone touched one.  He choked and vomited on the salty waters that had found their way into his belly, and on the stench of the body that fluttered beside him.  She was half submerged, but anchored to the islet by a particularly jagged stone.  Had he seen such a sight in his latter years, he would have been able to identify approximately how long she’d been dead for; her age, her status in life.  But back then, he could only ponder the possibilities of these things while he sat with her in desolate exhaustion, still recovering the air in his lungs as best he could through fits of gagging.

Seventy-seven, seventy-eight, seventy-nine, eighty.    

There was no choice, really.  He had to stay there, at least for awhile.  He couldn’t very well make the swim back to shore right away, at best one of the local fishermen would spot him and come grab him up before he had to try.  It was something he lost faith in after a few hours of waiting, when the sun started to go down.  The way it glimmered on her wet, marble-veined skin looked ethereal to him, in a way.

Eighty-one.  Eighty-two.  Eighty-three.  Eighty-four.

It took him much less time than he thought it would to settle himself from the overwhelming panic.  The panic of nearly drowning, the panic of finding himself subsequently stranded in the middle of the ocean with a rotting corpse, the panic of how much trouble he was going to be in when and if he got home-- it was all pretty inconsequential once the light of the first star peaked across the deep blues and purples of twilight.  It would be unwise to try and swim back now, and he knew that.  As much as he’d tried to gather his strength, even in the warmth of day he would have been a fool to try and risk it.  He was already cold, and wet, and his hands and knees were bloodied from the stones he sat on.  They looked much more comfortable from afar.

Eighty-five.  Eighty-six.  Eighty-seven.  Eighty-eight.

Eventually he no longer felt disgust, and he’d grown accustom to the smell that lingered(though perhaps it might have been the chill of nighttime numbing his senses).  Curled into himself, he watched her when he could no longer peer at the coastline without feeling his stomach tumble.  There was a strange sort of beauty to it, to death; to see what his fate might be if he was to die there.  He didn’t know what had killed her, but he knew what he saw.  Her flesh was a glimmering array of pinks and yellows and off-whites, swollen and splitting where it could no longer keep itself from blossoming open.  Deeper marks and gashes marred what was made visible beneath the tattering of her robes, fine emerald silks stained and open beneath the weight of something much more violent than the ocean, something that had intentionally torn into her flesh to showcase the tissue beneath.

Eighty-nine, ninety.  Ninety-one.  Ninety-two.     

He remembered staring for hours at one particular wound, on her right thigh.  It wasn’t as vicious as some of the others, but it had been effective enough to slice through the first few layers of flesh and reveal the fat beneath.  The blood had long since washed away to reveal true color, and with the crabs and insects that had begun to try and pick away at meat beyond the constantly shifting layers of fabric, he couldn’t help but to think it resembled the hive of a bee.  Wouldn’t it have been nice, if people bled honey instead?  Wouldn’t it have been nice?  Wouldn’t it be nice, wouldn’t it be lovely?

Ninety-seven, ninety-eight, ninety-nine.  One hundred.

The musician gasped for air as he rose gracelessly from the calm surface of his bath.  Disrupted by his movements, the gently scented waters splashed across the paneling that surrounded it and put out two candles in its wake.  He’d lasted longer last time, but he hadn’t anticipated where his mind would wander that night, either.  It was a bit jarring, as it had been so long since he’d recalled that memory-- or, any memory from that time, really.  It felt distant to him, and he liked it that way.  He wasn’t that boy anymore, or that person; he wasn’t trapped, and yet inspiration was something he could still draw from him.  He thanked him for that, eyes settling on one of the uncooperative candles that lay on the ledge of his bath.  

When he could breath properly again, he snubbed the other 2 out with his dampened fingertips and a sigh.

[dyke-remy]

Remy has been gone for 8 days!

Introducing the kids of the Sad Dad AU:

Roman Kayk - 15 years old. He/him. Pansexual but very deep in the closet. Knows spanish (mom’s side). Crushing on the psychology nerd in his class. This boi hasn’t been calm for a second of his life! Has A in every class and is popular in class and still has regular panic attacks about not being good enough. Perfectionist with undiagnosed adhd and anxiety.

Remus Kayk - 15 years old. All pronouns. biromantic, very ace (closet). Diagnosed with autism, undiagnosed p-ocd. Has severe delusions bc of his autism. One of the delusions is thinking his dad is cheating (0-0). Their intrusive thoughts and routines match up so perfectly they have a really hard time eating, really underweight. Failing all classes and has given up on any of ze classmates liking zir. The school delinquent TM. Sad? Hide it with dirty jokes and punk clothes!

Logan Khadae - 12 years old. He/him. Is too tired to deal with this shit. Continues to deal with this shit anyway. Has skipped 2 grades bc SMART! Has been forced to grow up very quickly since he has to parent Virgil a lot(Jan is very busy) and also ✨trauma✨. Has really bad nightmares that leaves him sobbing but he doesn’t let anyone know.

Virgil Khadae - 5 years old. She/her. Janus thought he was getting another son and panicked so much when it turned out to be a daughter he didn’t change the name plan. Loves halloween, horror movies and ‘scary’ animals. Give her crayons, paper and music and she’ll busy herself the entire day. Has a bat bow in her hair and a cat stuffie she’s named ms. Skelly Coraline Krelborn. Misses her mom a lot.

Link to the askblog for this au: @sad-dad-askblog

[20ways-tokillsomeone]

what kind of romanticism are you ?

As tagged, Darius: pure romanticism

starry eyes, interlaced fingers, cooking for a loved one: you're pure romanticism. pure romanticism is an easy love and a mindless joy, it's knowing you'll always have someone around to laugh at your jokes and live in complete awe of you. pure romanticism entails gentle feelings of belonging, floating a foot in the air wherever you go, as long as you know that you have someone to love, and to love you just as much as you love them. you're an honest individual, and it shows that that's what you value most in a relationship. you often float through life and become frustrated with yourself for silly mistakes, but you need to take things slower and walk once in a while. life is not only the pursuit of love, but everything that you learn about yourself on the way. be kinder to yourself, be your own lover when things get tough. "we can die a thousand times in one lifetime" - david jones

Tagged by: @the-ghoul-remains Tagging: @falsecalling, @vixtionary, @khada-in-prada

[tellywoodtrash]

immj2 05.11.20 lb

PEDAL TO THE FLOOOOOR BITCH, BEFORE HUBS COMES OUTTTTTTTTTT *puts on best driving song ever made to motivate her to drive the fuckkkkkkkkkkk awayyyyyyyyy*

riddhima doing big talk about how she saved ragini from a haiwaan and lmaooooo kabir's faaaaaaaaaaaace

DOW DIGGY DIGGY DOW DIGGY DOW DOW INDEED! (that's the evil!kabir theme music, if you didn't know. very catchy. i love it!)

lmao oh riddhimaaaaaaaaaaaa you fucking dumbassssssss

idhar vansh acting like he is BMC and the place is kangana ranaut’s. tod phod nonstopppppp.

oh thank god the vansh whisperer is here.

WHAT'S THE POINT OF YELLING AT HER??!?!?!!?!? WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU HAVE ZEROOOOO SECURITY OTHER THAN THIS ONE SUKDIIIIIIIIIIII NURSE WHOM YOU ALREADY KNOW IS EASILY DISTRACTABLE?????????

WHO COULD HAVE COME HEREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE angre asks, and bhai already knows.

the one.

the only.

the un-paralyzable.

dang his foundation oxidised as fuck. this is almost bordering on super 30/gully boy type brownface.

angry phone call to ishani. angre mildly being like HEY DON'T YELL AT MY WIFE but too scared to say anything to saale saheb.

coz yup. the gun is out again.

“kabir promise karo ki tum ragini ka poora khayaal rakhoge. bharosa kar rahi hoon tum par.”

snort. butter wouldn't melt in this kameena mouth.

seedhe mooh jhoot kitniiiiiiiii safaiiii se bolta hai. what an adorable psychopath!

one last chance maaring attempt by kabir, saying your mission is done, you don't need to go back to VR mansion.

sis like no bitch i invested months of my life in thisssss i want answerssssssssss to my questions i'll leave once i get them

lol kabir is like cool whatever, it’s your funeral, i gots what i want.

she's apologizing for "breaking his heart" and saying that all this is happening to her now coz she hurt him and he's like pssssssh it's okaaaay aaj achchaai aur insaniyat ki jeet hui hai.

aslkdjlasjdlkasjdlkasjdlkasj I LOVE THIS FUCKER AND HIS HAPPY EVIL FACE

oh boy, this is a murder face if i've ever seen one.

like every good desi kid, first phone call on anything major happening in life is made to mummyyyy.

OMG MUMMY KNOCKED THE NURSE OUT AGAIN WHEN SHE STIRRED OMFG WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU RAISINGHANIASSSSSS WHY ARE YOU ALL LIKE THISSSSSSSSSSS

overconfidence toh dekho ladke ka, had the syringe prepped and all.

"mere private narak mein aane ka shukriya!"

literally 98% of cishet men once they’ve managed to hoodwink a woman into getting involved with them.

AKSLDJSALKDJLKASJDLSAKJLDKJLAS WHY WOULD YOU PARK IN THE FRONT OF THE HOUSEEEEEEEEEEE WHEN YOU'RE HIDING FROM LITERALLY EVERYONEEEEEEEEEE

there's nooooooooooo fucking way she made out of the car and here without him seeing her. unless.............. I'M TELLING YOU SHE HAS AN INVISIBILITY CLOAK FROM HARRY MAMA FROM THE UK.

ishani standing here doing soliloquy about room ki duplicate chaabi. sis stop speech-ing and do your kaaaaaaaam.

ohhhh wow. shady bitch showdown! fight fight fight fight!!!!!!!!

meanwhile vansh and his brokenass ghutna have rolled up and is like CAN YOU TWO  STFUUUUUUUUU

mummy doing last ditch attempt to stall saying lemme bandage you upppppppp, but ...........

nope.

also foundation has unoxidised. noice.

ughhhhhhhhhhhhhh stop screaming like a fucking unhinged bearrrrrrrrrrrr-lion-tRex.

ta daaaaaaaaaaaah!

lmao wtf that nurse went away with zerooooooooooo questions as to why she was assaulted multiple times by this crazyass family.

nowwwwwwwwwwwww he's scary. when he's not saying anything. see????? it's alwaysssssss less scary when someone's making a big fuss. you look like a child having a tantrum. ice cold silence is always what makes me wanna pee myself from fear.

OH GOD SHE HAD A LEAF IN HER HAIR

skjdslkjflsdkjflsdkjldfjk the way he asked that soooooooooo cooooolly. aaaaaaaaaah now i'm scared.

daaaaaaaaaaang, sis has finally learnt the art of lying with confidence. and it is gloriousssssssss to see!

oh god oh no where's he taking her i have a feeling i know but

yup i was righttttttttt

aaaaaaaaaand in she goes.

“yeh qabar maine uske liye khodi thi jo yahaan jaana deserve karta tha, lekin ab mujhe lagta hai ki aur koi bhi hai jo isse usse bhi zyaada deserve karta hai.”

yiiiiiiiiiiiikes.

riddhima, like every other millennial, is like ok sure, i'm ready to die. just give me an escape from this hellish existence already. she actually closes her eyes and sits downnnnnn in the grave. lmao Big Mood, sis.

he's like no no don't close your eyes, you need to see WHO it is that rightfully needs to be in the grave. huh. you brought a spare body to throw in here??????

i wouldn't trust that hand.

but that grave IS pretty deep so ok fine, hoist me upppp, Angry Boy. if you let go or try something funny, i'm pulling you in WITH ME.

ok phew.

“iss qabar ka asli haqdaar tumhare saamne khada hai. main hi hoon woh insaan jo uss kabar mein zinda dafan hone ke laayak hai.”

i mean..... i don't disagree. you do deserve to die for the shit you pulled yesterday. but i'm interested to know why YOU think so.

oh of course. mommy issues. mom ki qaatil ko pakadna tha, vaada tha apne haathon se sazzaa doonga, vaghera vaghera.

surprise surprise, ragini was the one who knew who did it. and he was keeping her alive all these years just to get the deets from her. ho hum, hardly surprising.

LMAO YEAH BITCH. YOU DONE FUCKED UPPPPPPPPPPP.

he admits to pulling the gun on ragini.

ragini admitting that the only reason she would put up with his crazy ass is his money. same, sis. actually, not even then. not all the money in the world could make me want be with this dude.

oh shit. oh no. hot boy used puppy eyes. my defences are weakening. fuck meeeeeeeeee. WHY AM I INTO MENNNNNNNN?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? IT'S MY GREATEST FAILING IN THIS LIFEEEEEEEEEE

oh no no ok yeah i'm back i hate him again. phew. my core of misandry is reallly strong and it saved me.

i just pulled my gun on her and wanted to kill her from sheer rage. but i didn't do it. why? coz i'm not a criminal, it seems. UHHHHHHHHHH, I BEG TO DIFFER SIR. YOU DEFINITELY SHOULD GET SOME AMOUNT OF JAILTIME FOR THAT SHIT.

also wtf you mean i can't murder anyone coz i'm not capable of it. that's not what you've been saying over and over and overrrrrrrrrr since day fucking 1?!?!?!? ALSO MAY I REMIND YOU WE'RE STANDING NEXT TO A GRAVE YOU DUG FOR SOMEONE?!?!?!?!!? LIKE........... GET YOUR STORY RIGHT, DUDE. DO YOU WANNA KILL SOMEONE OR NOT?????

“mujhse sab samajhne mein bhool hui hai kya??????” LMAO YA THINK, YOU STUPIDASS???????????

LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO HIS FACE. KOI AUR CHIDIYA CHUG KE LE GAYI KHET.

also wtf? riddhima got shot in the exact same place and she was up and about in like...... 2 days. ragini needed 3 years to recuperate from a shoulder bullet???

“tumne nahi chalaayi toh kisne?”

oh no return of puppy eyes. look away bitch look away. (talking to riddhima, but also myself. pighalna nahi haiiiiiiiiiiiiii.)

we, the audience, have an answer to who is the puraana paapi.

awwwwww, like mom, like son. murder is their khaandaani riwayat. 

oooooh ragini was blackmailing mummy i think.

and thus mummy filled vansh's head with all kindsa crap and sent him off to kill her.

ragini saying i got into it for the money but then your jawline and eyes and my cursed heterosexuality got me into you forreal forreal. ok she didn't say that, i'm saying it. but literally what other appeal does this dude hold???

she abouttttttttt to spill the beans when..........

mmmmmmmmmmm whatcha saaaaaaaaaaay

dang murder makes ppl hot. should i try it out???? seems to make the skin real glowy.