self care is actually getting in fights with randoms in dark alleys
self care is the burning heat when rage washes over you. self care is when you feel the bones crack under your powerful fists. self care is the fear in your enemies eyes


blake kathryn
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taylor price

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@wraithxffate
self care is actually getting in fights with randoms in dark alleys
self care is the burning heat when rage washes over you. self care is when you feel the bones crack under your powerful fists. self care is the fear in your enemies eyes

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â a plague tale: innocence + colors
YOU ARE ALLOWED TO USE YOUR CHARACTERâS POWER/STRENGTH/ABILITY ON MINE.
yes, this is me granting you PERMISSION to actually torment/hurt/control/beat up etc my muse. IF IT IS IN CHARACTER. but no, this is not me saying you can god-mod. there is a difference. So, feel free to inflict as much pain as you want and have fun rp-ing! (:
I look at you and see all the ways a soul can bruise, and I wish I could sink my hands into your flesh and light lanterns along your spine so you know that thereâs nothing but light when I see you.
(via killedtheinnocentpeople)
My breast is cold as the clay; My breath is earthly strong. And if you kiss my cold, clay lips, Your days will not be long.

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after the damage .
a sentence collection for the warriors , those who fight and those who destroy .
â i⌠i did this ââ
â i did this !?â
â nâno , it â it wasnât supposed to be this way! â
â ( name ) !!! â
â tâthatâs⌠the smile⌠i was hoping to see⌠â
â thank you⌠for everything⌠â
â they are dead, donât you get it !? you killed them! â
â they are all dead because of you! â
â donât you dare run away !â
â (name) ⌠? â
â iâis he/she/theyâŚ? â
â oâoh god, oh god wâwe gotta â get you somewhereâ â
â gâget me ouâout of here⌠â
â i canât â feel my lâleg⌠â
â you fought well⌠â
â you did what you could. â
â there was no way around this. â
â if i had⌠only come sooner, then mâmaybe⌠â
â they are trapped because of you! â
â who sent you!? â
â who asked for your help!? â
â if you had come sooner then maybe â maybe theyâd be alive! â
â itâs â itâs all your fault. â
â i wantâed to do⌠more⌠â
â no â no, please â please donât talk⌠rest⌠â
â pâplease ! ( name ) hang on! â
â donât you DARE slip away from me now! â
â come on, come oâon â please!! please!! â
â for the loâve of god, (name) ! â
â (name) itâs⌠useless⌠â
â hâhey⌠câcan yâyou hear me???â
â shhh , iâve got you⌠iâve got you⌠â
â donât let go. â
â i wish⌠i got to see him/her/them oâone more⌠time⌠â
â did i⌠sâsav⌠save him/her/them⌠? â
â hey nânow⌠whâwhy are you crying⌠? â
â thâŚank you f⌠for believing in me, (name)⌠â
â this is⌠all⌠i could eâever ask for⌠â
â i did⌠what i had to do⌠â
â keâep living on⌠fâfor meâŚ? â
â goodbye, (name)âŚâ
â (name), i â â
Light thinks it travels faster than anything, but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it. â
Terry Pratchett (via wordsnquotes)
Think well Do take your time Because your soul Will be mine the day you die
"Hello again, gambler." Fiddlesticks emerged from the shadows, his wooden legs thumping against the cracked stone tiles beneath him. "I have heard tales of your exploits since we last met..." (reapersscarecrow)
Fate observed the smoking, pale green card flipping between his fingers for another moment (his newest acquisition) before it disappeared from his grasp, presumably back with the others on the gamblerâs belt. A short sort of chuckle escaped his lips as he turned his head in the direction of the scarecrow.
âHarbinger,â he said with a nod in greeting. âI should hope youâve heard, especially in Bilgewater. It would seem people havenât heard what typically happens after a deal with me is finished⌠or theyâre to concerned with their wealth to care about the fact that their souls end up in MY possession~â
@reapersscarecrow
Fiddlesticks burst into laughter. âNo, our god is not my master⌠He already has another to serve him: the spider known as Elise. Perhaps you have heard of her?â A crow perched upon a nearby tree, watching Fate intently with glowing green eyes.
âBut in the end, we all serve the master⌠Only I can hear his voice, however. It is the gift of the Harbinger; my privilege to carry out his whim.â The scarecrow seemed to lose himself in his own speech for a moment, before snapping out of it. âAh, but enough about that. It is time you learned more of our kings, Twisted Fate.â
âElise? Iâve not heard much, but Iâve heard of her.â he shrugged, the armor on his right arm giving a hollow-sounding rattle.
Fate was a patient man. He didnât necessarily mind the Harbingerâs speeches and found them to be mostly insightful. The scarecrow had a surprising way with words that never made talking to him a dull experience.Â
âIâm all ears, my friend,â he nodded, ignoring the crow as best he could. Heâd found that ignoring the creatures had been getting easier, but he assumed that was because he was simply getting used to them.
The Summoning of Fate (II)
True to their deal, Twisted Fate watched impassively as the man won hand after hand at whatever gambling den he saw fit to visit. He didnât even bother hiding the grin as he robbed his opponents blind, seeming to take delight in the fact that he was using a supernatural entity to cheat, something he believed they could do nothing aboutâŚ
The poor man seemed to be under the delusion that Fateâs âservicesâ included protection from whatever consequences might befall him because of their little âtrickâ.
Keep reading

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The Summoning of Fate (I)
Any city in the world had its share of desperate people. Those willing to risk so much for the sake of another try, just one more try⌠Bilgewater, among others, was rife with people willing to take extreme measures to achieve goals that had crept into their minds⌠And rumor had been spreading of one who could help you succeed where chances needed to be taken to winâ or regainâ a fortune.
Keep reading
 Think well   Do take your time      Because your soul          Will be mine the day you die
@impavid-wanderer
The wraith of greed had gotten used to the sights and sounds of the Isles; the all-encompassing Mist, the screams of the weaker ghosts, the near-constant presence of at least two of the Harbingerâs crows. At first heâd simply avoided the other undead (save for the scarecrow), but through boredom and curiosity, heâd found that watching them from afar proved to be most entertaining indeed.
The squabble heâd been observing had broken up far too quickly, leaving the gamblerâs gaze to wander, only to fall on another spirit not too far off. A woman? Most of the ghosts seemed vague enough in form that one couldnât usually tell...
âYou may be dead... but you donât seem quite like the others.â he finally murmured, letting the wind carry his voice to her. âJust what makes you so special, little lady?â
"Hello again, gambler." Fiddlesticks emerged from the shadows, his wooden legs thumping against the cracked stone tiles beneath him. "I have heard tales of your exploits since we last met..." (reapersscarecrow)
Fate observed the smoking, pale green card flipping between his fingers for another moment (his newest acquisition) before it disappeared from his grasp, presumably back with the others on the gamblerâs belt. A short sort of chuckle escaped his lips as he turned his head in the direction of the scarecrow.
âHarbinger,â he said with a nod in greeting. âI should hope youâve heard, especially in Bilgewater. It would seem people havenât heard what typically happens after a deal with me is finished⌠or theyâre to concerned with their wealth to care about the fact that their souls end up in MY possession~â
@reapersscarecrow
Fiddlesticks peers at Twisted Fate. He had more memories of his life than most⌠Even the Harbinger could only really remember the day heâd died, and everything before that was a blank. Oh well. Not like it mattered much, regardless.
âSo tell meâŚâ The topic changed suddenly. âHave you met the rulers of the Isles? Our kings and our god⌠Doubtless, the former will want to meet you. Our god, however⌠You would be wise to avoid.â
Yes, Fate could remember a lot from his living days. But even as time passed, his memories, starting with the smaller, more insignificant ones, were beginning to fade from his mind. His previous life was over after all; it didnât matter anymore. Before long, he likely wouldnât even remember Graves, or being from Bilgewater, or even his early years on the Serpentine. All that would remain was the time he spent on the Shadow Isles.
The wraith shook his head.
âNah. I remember you mentioninâ rulers and a god when I first arrived, but I havenât met any of âem. Iâd assumed the master you mentioned was the god of the IslesâŚâ
"Hello again, gambler." Fiddlesticks emerged from the shadows, his wooden legs thumping against the cracked stone tiles beneath him. "I have heard tales of your exploits since we last met..." (reapersscarecrow)
Fate observed the smoking, pale green card flipping between his fingers for another moment (his newest acquisition) before it disappeared from his grasp, presumably back with the others on the gamblerâs belt. A short sort of chuckle escaped his lips as he turned his head in the direction of the scarecrow.
âHarbinger,â he said with a nod in greeting. âI should hope youâve heard, especially in Bilgewater. It would seem people havenât heard what typically happens after a deal with me is finished⌠or theyâre to concerned with their wealth to care about the fact that their souls end up in MY possession~â
@reapersscarecrow
âYouâve not yet heard the Deathsingerâs dirge?â Fiddlesticks tilted his head. âI MUST arrange a meeting, then. The music of the living pales in comparison, even if they cannot truly appreciate his work while their hearts still beatâŚâ In truth, the Harbingerâs thoughts on Karthus were mixed, but at the very least, the songs of the dead he directed were phenomenalâŚ
âHome.â Fiddlesticks spoke the word quite suddenly. âThis is your home, Twisted Fate; it is everyoneâs home, whether they realize it or not. An eternity in the Mist is the only fate that awaits us all⌠But Iâm sure you do not need to hear my speeches.â
Home. The word brought an unexpected... twinge to the dead manâs mind.Â
How long had it been since he was able to really call any place that? After the Serpentine, the closest he ever got was Bilgewater...
But if the Shadow Isles were where everyone was meant to go anyway, were those places of his living days ever really home to him? It didnât feel like it, not anymore. It seemed death had an odd way of... making everything clearer...
âHmm. Home sounds about right from what Iâve come to see.â he finally said, his lips quirking upwards in a slight smile. âFigures I had to die to find it~â

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"Hello again, gambler." Fiddlesticks emerged from the shadows, his wooden legs thumping against the cracked stone tiles beneath him. "I have heard tales of your exploits since we last met..." (reapersscarecrow)
Fate observed the smoking, pale green card flipping between his fingers for another moment (his newest acquisition) before it disappeared from his grasp, presumably back with the others on the gamblerâs belt. A short sort of chuckle escaped his lips as he turned his head in the direction of the scarecrow.
âHarbinger,â he said with a nod in greeting. âI should hope youâve heard, especially in Bilgewater. It would seem people havenât heard what typically happens after a deal with me is finished⌠or theyâre to concerned with their wealth to care about the fact that their souls end up in MY possession~â
@reapersscarecrow
The scarecrow nodded. âIt is clear to me now why the Mist sought you⌠As Kalista embodies vengeance, and I embody despair, you embody greed.â A smile played on the Harbingerâs sewn-up âlips.â âMortals are willing to sacrifice so much to gain so little⌠You have done well, Twisted Fate.â
Fiddlesticks moved a bit closer. âYou are then first in a long time to be reborn as such a powerful undead; the last, I do believe, was Karthus. Tell me: what do you make of the Shadow Isles?â
An embodiment of greed? The thought brought a teeth-baring grin to his face. Greed could have been considered something he was MORE than guilty of in life... and in death here he was, still taking advantage of the boundless greed of the living, and cheating them of so much more than their gold.
âKarthus, huh? Canât say Iâve had the pleasure of actually meeting him yet.â he hummed. âAs for the Shadow Isles... Itâs a place I would have avoided at all costs just a short while ago. Now?â
He shrugged.
âNot sure Iâd quite call it comforting... but what else do you call somethinâ thatâs such a welcome sight to return to?â
"Hello again, gambler." Fiddlesticks emerged from the shadows, his wooden legs thumping against the cracked stone tiles beneath him. "I have heard tales of your exploits since we last met..." (reapersscarecrow)
Fate observed the smoking, pale green card flipping between his fingers for another moment (his newest acquisition) before it disappeared from his grasp, presumably back with the others on the gamblerâs belt. A short sort of chuckle escaped his lips as he turned his head in the direction of the scarecrow.
âHarbinger,â he said with a nod in greeting. âI should hope youâve heard, especially in Bilgewater. It would seem people havenât heard what typically happens after a deal with me is finished⌠or theyâre to concerned with their wealth to care about the fact that their souls end up in MY possession~â
@reapersscarecrow