#The Flame Still Burns

[mikeladano]

Youtubin': Strange Fruit - "The Flame Still Burns" from the film Still Crazy

I think it’s safe to say that the 1998 British film Still Crazy is my favourite movie about a fictional band.  Yes, that means I like it better than the “big one”.  I definitely prefer it to Rock Star.  It’s just plain better, from story to performance to music.  I never cried during Rock Star, but I do weep during Still Crazy when guitarist Brian makes his triumphant return to the stage during…

[melimelotus]

entertaining the idea of eeveelutions as survivors of their own type. evolving when struck by lightning or caught in a fire/explosion as a way to survive

[saltpepperbeard]

y'all, do you think there's anything we can do? or is a pretty done deal?

[hellish-cruelty]

In flames

Movies- 1917 (2019), Manchester by the sea (2016), Skyfall (2012), Jarhead (2005), There will be blood (2007), Burning (2018), Dunkirk (2017), Macbeth (2015), The revenant (2015), Mirror (1975)

[tiredsurvivoronmain]

Snuggling beans - RE8/RE9 Edition

RE1 Version

[lavenoon]

"hi love you need better coping mechanisms and also maybe to leave the city sometimes because its stuffy and putting you on edge so will you come burn some marshmallows with me in the woods"

@naffeclipse I continue <3

*self insert is not a girl (he/ she)

og detective au by sunnys-aesthetic!

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 61

Chapter; Highlights (okay the entire chapter is a highlight)🤣

As requested @mysterylilycheeta I NEED TO SQUEAL IN WYVERN FANGIRL WITH YOU NOW CAUSE OH M GOODNESS THIS CHAPTER ON SO MANY LEVELS I JUST AHAKWIHUHFEJLZXBKEKA

Agony was a song in Lorcan's blood, his bones, his breath.

Every step of the horse, every leap she made over body and debris, sent it ringing afresh. There was no end, no mercy from it. It was all he could do to keep in the saddle, to cling to consciousness.

To keep his arm around Elide.

She had come for him. Had found him, somehow, on this endless battlefield.

His name on her lips had been a summons he could never deny, even when death had held him so gently, nestled beneath all those he'd felled, I, and waited for his last breaths.

And now, charging toward that too-distant keep, so far behind the droves of soldiers and riders racing for the gates, he wondered if these minutes would be his last. Her last.

She had come for him.

Lorcan managed to glance toward the dam on their right. Toward the ruk rider signaling that it was only a matter of minutes until it unleashed hell over the plain.

He didn't know how it had become weakened. Didn't care.

Still Elide kept urging the horse onward, kept them on as straight a path toward the distant keep as possible.

No ruk would come to sweep them up. No, his luck had been spent in surviving this long, in her finding him. His power would do nothing against that water.

The farthest lines of panicked soldiers appeared, and Farasha charged past them.

Elide let out a sob, and he followed the line of her sight.

To the keep gate, still open.

"Faster, Farasha!" She didn't hide the raw terror in her voice, the desperation.

Once the dam broke, it would take less than a minute for the tidal wave to reach them.

She had come for him. She had found him.

The world went quiet. The pain in his body faded into nothing. Into something secondary.

Lorcan slid his other arm around Elide, bringing his mouth close to her ear as he said, "You have to let me go."

Each word was gravelly, his voice strained nearly to the point of uselessness.

Elide didn't shift her focus from the keep ahead. "No."

That gentle quiet flowed around him, clearing the fog of pain and battle. "You have to. You have to, Elide. I'm too heavy-and without my weight, you might make it to the keep in time."

"No." The salt of her tears filled his nose.

Lorcan brushed his mouth over her damp cheek, ignoring the roaring pain in his body. The horse galloped and galloped, as if she might outrace death itself.

"I love you," he whispered in Elide's ear. "I have loved you from the moment you picked up that axe to slay the ilken." Her tears flowed past him in the wind. "And I will be with you ..." His voice broke, but he made himself say the words, the truth in his heart. "I will be with you always."

He was not frightened of what would come for him once he tumbled off the horse. He was not frightened at all, if it meant her reaching the keep.

So Lorcan kissed Elide's cheek again, allowed himself to breathe in her scent one last time. "I love you," he repeated, and began to withdraw his arms from around her waist.

Elide slapped a hand onto his forearm. Dug in her nails, right into his skin, fierce as any ruk.

"No."

There were no tears in her voice. Nothing but solid, unwavering steel.

"No," she said again. The voice of the Lady of Perranth.

Lorcan tried to move his arm, but her grip would not be dislodged.

If he tumbled off the horse, she would go with him.

Together. They would either outrun this or die together.

"Elide-"

But Elide slammed her heels into the horse's sides.

Slammed her heels into the dark flank and screamed, "FLY, FARASHA." She cracked the reins. "FLY, FLY, FLY!"

And gods help her, that horse did.

As if the god that had crafted her filled the mare's lungs with his own breath, Farasha gave a surge of speed.

Faster than the wind. Faster than death.

Farasha cleared the first of the fleeing Darghan cavalry. Passed desperate horses and riders at an all-out gallop for the gates.

Her mighty heart did not falter, even when Lorcan knew it was raging to the point of bursting.

Less than a mile stood between them and the keep.

But a thunderous, groaning crack cleaved the world, echoing off the lake, the mountains.

There was nothing he could do, nothing that brave, unfaltering horse could do, as the dam ruptured.

Rowan made himself stand there, to watch the last moments of the Lady of Perranth and his former commander. It was all he could offer: witnessing their deaths, so he might tell the story to those he encountered. So they would not be forgotten.

The roaring of the oncoming wave became deafening, even from miles away.

Still Elide and Lorcan raced, Farasha passing horse after horse after horse.

Even up here, would they escape the wave's reach? Rowan dared to survey the battlements, to assess if he needed to get the others, needed to get Aelin, to higher ground.

But Aelin was not at his side.

She was not on the battlement at all.

Rowan's heart halted. Simply stopped beating as a ruddy-brown ruk dropped from the skies, spearing for the center of the plain.

Arcas, Borte's ruk. A golden-haired woman dangling from his talons.

Aelin. Aelin was—

Arcas neared the earth, talons splaying.

Aelin hit the ground, rolling, rolling, until she uncoiled to her feet.

Right in the path of that wave.

"Oh gods," Fenrys breathed, seeing her, too.

They all saw her.

The queen on the plain.

The endless wall of water surging for her.

The keep stones began shuddering. Rowan threw out a hand to brace himself, fear like nothing he had known ripping through him as Aelin lifted her arms above her head.

A pillar of fire shot up around her, lifting her hair with it.

The wave roared and roared for her, for the army behind her.

The shaking in the keep was not from the wave.

It was not from that wall of water at all.

Cracks formed in the earth, splintering across it. Spiderwebbing from Aelin.

"The hot springs," Chaol breathed. "The valley floor is full of veins into the earth itself."

Into the burning heart of the world.

The keep shook, more violently this time.

The pillar of fire sucked back into Aelin.

She held out a hand before her, her fist closed.

As if it would halt the wave in its tracks.

He knew then. Either as her mate or carranam, he knew.

"Three months," Rowan breathed.

The others stilled.

"Three months," he said again, his knees wobbling. "She's been making the descent into her power for three months."

Every day she had been with Maeve, bound in iron, she had gone deeper. And she had not tapped too far into that power since they'd freed her because she had kept making the plunge.

To gather up the full might of her magic.

Not for the Lock, not for Erawan.

But for Maeve's death blow.

A few weeks of descent had taken her powers to devastating levels. Three months of it

…

Holy gods. Holy rutting gods.

And when her fire hit the wall of water now towering over her, when they collided —

"GET DOWN!" Rowan bellowed, over the screaming waters. "GET DOWN NOW!"

His companions dropped to the stones, any within earshot doing the same.

Rowan plummeted into his power. Plummeted into it fast and hard, ripping out any remaining shred of magic.

Elide and Lorcan were still too far from the gates. Thousands of soldiers were still too far from the gates as the wave crested above them.

As Aelin opened her hand toward it.

Fire erupted.

Cobalt fire. The raging soul of a flame.

A tidal wave of it.

Taller than the raging waters, it blasted from her, flaring wide.

The wave slammed into it. And where water met a wall of fire, where a thousand years of confinement met three months of it, the world exploded.

Blistering steam, capable of melting flesh from bone, shot across the plain.

With a roar, Rowan threw all that remained of his magic toward the onslaught of steam, a wall of wind that shoved it toward the lake, the mountains.

Still the waters came, breaking against the flames that did not so much as yield an inch.

Maeve's death blow. Spent here, to save the army that might mean Terrasen's salvation. To spare the lives on the plain.

Rowan gritted his teeth, panting against his fraying power. A burnout lurked, deadly close.

The raging wave threw itself over and over and over into the wall of flame.

Rowan didn't see if Elide and Lorcan made it into the keep. If the other soldiers and riders on the plain stopped to gape.

Princess Hasar said, rising beside him, "That power is no blessing."

"Tell that to your soldiers," Fenrys snarled, standing, too.

"I did not mean it that way," Hasar snipped, and awe was indeed stark on her face.

Rowan leaned against the battlements, panting hard as he fought to keep the lethal steam from flowing toward the army. As he cooled and sent it whisking away.

Solid hands slid under his arms, and then Fenrys and Gavriel were there, propping him up between them.

A minute passed. Then another.

The wave began to lower. Still the fire burned.

Rowan's head pounded, his mouth going dry.

Time slipped from him. A coppery tang filled his mouth.

The wave lowered farther, raging waters quieting. Then roaring turned to lapping, rapids into eddies.

Until the wall of flame began to lower, too. Tracking the waters down and down and down. Letting them seep into the cracks of the earth.

Rowan's knees buckled, but he held on to his magic long enough for the steam to lessen.

For it, too, to be calmed.

It filled the plain, turning the world into drifting mist. Blocking the view of the queen in its center.

Then silence. Utter silence.

Fire flickered through the mist, blue turning to gold and red. A muted, throbbing glow.

Rowan spat blood onto the battlement stones, his breath like shards of glass in his throat.

The glowing flames shrank, steam rippling past. Until there was only a slim pillar of fire, veiled in the mist-shrouded plain.

Not a pillar of fire.

But Aelin.

Glowing white-hot. As if she had given herself so wholly to the flame that she had become fire herself.

The Fire-Bringer someone whispered down the battlements.

The mist rippled and billowed, casting her into nothing but a glowing effigy.

The silence turned reverent.

A gentle wind from the north swept down. The veil of mist pulled back, and there she was.

She glowed from within. Glowed golden, tendrils of her hair floating on a phantom wind.

"Mala's Heir," Yrene breathed.

Down on the plain, Elide and Lorcan had halted.

The wind pushed away more of the drifting mist, clearing the land beyond Aelin.

And where that mighty, lethal wave had loomed, where death had charged toward them, nothing remained at all.

For three months, she had sung to the darkness and the flame, and they had sung back.

For three months, she had burrowed so deep inside her power that she had plundered undiscovered depths. While Maeve and Cairn had worked on her, she had delved. Never letting them know what she mined, what she gathered to her, day by day by day.

A death blow. One to wipe a dark queen from the earth forever.

She'd kept that power coiled in herself even after she'd been freed from the irons. Had struggled to keep it down these weeks, the strain enormous. Some days, it had been easier to barely speak. Some days, swaggering arrogance had been her key to ignoring it.

Yet when she had seen that wave, when she had seen Elide and Lorcan choosing death together, when she had seen the army that might save Terrasen, she'd known. She'd felt the fire sleeping under this city, and knew they had come here for a reason.

She had come here for this reason.

A river still flowed from the dam, harmless and small, wending toward the lake.

Nothing more.

Aelin lifted a glowing hand before her as blessed, cooling emptiness filled her at last.

Slowly, starting from her fingertips, the glow faded.

As if she were forged anew, forged back into her body.

Back into Aelin.

Clarity, sharp and crystal clear, filled its wake. As if she could see again, breathe again.

Inch by inch, the golden glow faded into skin and bone. Into a woman once more.

Already, a white-tailed hawk launched skyward.

But as the last of the glow faded, disappearing out through her toes, Aelin fell to her knees.

Fell to her knees in the utter silence of the world, and curled onto her side.

She had the vague sense of strong, familiar arms scooping her up. Of being carried onto a broad feathery back, still in those arms.

Of soaring through the skies, the last of the mist rippling away into the afternoon sun.

And then sweet darkness.

[sewageskullz]

fern 2 minutes after hanging out with flame princess

[py-dreamer]

Wild Robot LMK au

The Wild Robot but Lego Monkie kid.

The Wild Robot but Wukong is this giant stone golem created by Nuwa meant to be a heavenly guard or a weapon for the heavens.

The Wild Robot but stone Wukong before awakening falls to earth onto Flower fruit mountain and his main function is to protect. He spends his first waking hours trying to protect animals who find him weird, call him a monster, say he's keeping them captive and ripping him apart as he is prone to attack anything he perceives as a threat while trying to find something to protect.

The Wild Robot but in trying to climb a tree, Wukong unknowingly breaks a branch a monkey mother and her cubs were sleeping on, killing all but the runt of the family whom Wukong saves and is about to leave alone until the cub wakes up, calling the simian his father and imprinting on him.

The Wild Robot but Wukong finds a newfound purpose to protect this runt. But soon winter will come and the monkeys will need to climb to the highest peaks of the mountain to stay warm while the rest stay on the ground and now he needs to find a way to teach this cub to climb.

The Wild Robot but Wukong finds Macaque, a solitude loner who wants nothing to do with the odd duo until he finds he can exchange his intellect for protection from everything trying to kill him on the island.

The Wild Robot but slowly, it seems that the odd trio form a bond and the cub grows from a runt to a young adolescent who's an oddball from the rest but is compassionate and cares for his strange fathers nonetheless. Wukong at first finds the cub delicate, almost impossible to take care off but slowly adapts and finds little rewards in that.

The Wild Robot but Wukong at first gives the child a long lengthy title filled with grand promises of power and strength that he's known from protocol in how the celestials were named but comes to call the boy Xiaotian given that he fell from the sky.

The Wild Robot but every animal on the mountain looks down in disdain at the weird family except for a couple while Macaque fiercely doubles down to defend his family's friends' honor as the stone golem looks in confusion and disappointment.

The Wild Robot but as time passes the golem's body wears down, rough jagged edges meant to strike fear smooth down and are covered in wear, tear and moss while their home grows with even more mini paintings illustrating Xiaotian's growth.

The Wild Robot but the boy is no longer a boy and learns the truth of his family. He grows distant from his parents Wukong but the golem persists to help his son the cub regardless of his comparatively small size and weak arms to prepare him for the big climb.

The Wild Robot but during winter after Xiaotian and the rest of the monkeys leave, Macaque stays with Wukong and they gather the rest of the animals on the base of the mountain into their den to hibernate until spring. There they hold a truce and sleep in peace.

The Wild Robot but Xiaotian grows into his own, becoming the leader of the monkeys having a new perspective and other advantages the other simians don't have and comes down in spring to apologize to Wukong. That he realizes that by killing the rest of Xiaotian's birth family, he most likely saved him from being killed for being the runt.

The Wild Robot but heaven come back to retrieve their weapon but the animals defend their friendly giant and work together to prevent the destruction caused by the celestials from spreading.

The Wild Robot but Wukong gets captured anyway to study for how he'd changed protocol but Xiaotian learns from his dad the simian and climbs the clouds to infiltrate heaven to rescue him.

The Wild Robot but Xiaotian finds Wukong almost dead but after confessing how he misses his father, Wukong recognizes his son's voice and comes back. Together, the two leap from the heavens with Wukong holding his boy close to his chest, tucking him in like when he was small enough to fit in the golem's hand and shielding him from the impact and landing back on Flower fruit mountain to reunite with Macaque and complete their family.

(Can you tell I watched the Wild Robot recently?)

(also damn, I just basically made Monkey king reborn)

@furornocturna @furornocturna pssstttt I made another impromptu thingy. probably won't turn into anything though

[kuijoon]

i lied here’s another one

[evilkitten3]

atla crack au where zuko and azula burn the palace down as kids (like 12 and 10, respectively, pre-banishment but post-grandpacide), run away to avoid consequences, and somehow end up "discreetly" living in the abandoned fire nation ship in the south pole ("discreetly" is a word which here means "all the adults know they're there bc they have massive arguments every other day, and when hakoda's nearby he "drops" things that might be useful")

ozai ends up blaming the palace fire on iroh and banishes him. he must capture the children to regain his honor (translator's note: this is adult speak for "get their asses back here so i can ground them for the rest of their lives")

[coconut530]

RELIGIOUS TRAUMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[unfortunate-daughter-of-hestia]

Open starter

except im hot and tired so im too lazy to make it look or even sound like im a sane person.

It is 3 IN THE FUCKING MORNING. And because clearly Willow thinks things through (she doesnt), you now have a fox laying on you, and staring up at you.

She swats at you and looks at you piteously.

Taglist (feel my pain) 𓏏𓏏ᴗᴗ)

@demigod-jack-hearth

@you-cant-save-us

@hispanic-child-of-hermes

(feel free to ask to be on it ...)

[the-punforgiven]

I know there's that whole stereotype of DMs and PCs hating each other or whatever but to be 100% honest the most joy I get out of D&D is when my players come up with some absolutely crazy batshit idea that should be absolutely impossible rules as written because as the DM I can choose to ignore that dumb nerd shit and just say "That sounds fucking rad dude, I'm giving you inspiration for that idea, now make an Acrobatics check."

[heartfeltletters-written]

A sudden, impetuous anger rose in her veins at his vile and cruel suggestion. She would not allow such words to be repeated regarding her son’s life, as if he was merely an heir and not her whole world. Brennan spoke as if her and Xaden’s entire life hadn’t been shattered that night, as if they hadn’t lost the most magnificent thing either of them had ever created. Her brother could never understand, and she had no space in her heart to explain it to him. She was too full of pain. She took a deep breath, and when she spoke her voice was devoid of any emotion, “Garrick.” “My Queen.” He took a step forward and bowed his head. She didn’t flinch or hesitate when giving her order. “Bring me my brother’s head.”

[lunarharp]

idle scribbles once more U_U