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tothecrucifieddeer · 4 months ago

Text

Brom by @its-kawaiidestinyhottub

chompers @tofupixel

Art by shakurb.2022

From Favorite Paintings by @wipormont

goats. gouache watercolor paintings from 2017-2019 by @sloppjockey

Midnight by Gökberk Yiğit on @ex0skeletal-undead 's blog

Mother Void 2024. Emil Melmoth @texaschainsawmascara 's blog

Priest (Part One) by @tofupixel

Priest (Part Two) by @tofupixel

Sinner by @photophoros

Spiral Study 4 by @plotterprints

St.Valentine's Skull @angeltreasure's moodboard

The voices are rotting... @wipormont

and then she looked at me, and good god, those eyes (redraw) @sermna

Untitled by Alex Kiessling @thewindowofthesummerhouse

Untitled Art @moarf13

Untitled by Thomas Nast on @thewindowofthesummerhouse

Untitled on @vile-lithium3

Untitled on @the-watcher-in-the-sky

Untitled on @cultofmortem

Explanation of Signs/Prophecies/Etc. Below the Cut (First in Irish, then in English) Should be stated that I do not speak for the artists, and I am an independent body stating my own opinions and interpretations as given to me through my sources and this no way reflects the opinions or beliefs of the artists collected here.

Explanations in Irish

Tá Doe ag tabhairt aire do thús nua agus duine nua ag an nasc teann idir sinn Má ní tharraingím mé féin le chéile, d'fhéadfadh gach rud a bheith briste.

Féach amach don béal Dé Tá ocras air agus tá sé feargach Bí cúramach le daoine amadacha a bhfuil teachtaireachtaí acu - bain amach cé atá díot féin a mheas (Mar dhea, níor dhéanadh Doe riamh é sin éasca)

Tá na Marbh ag déanamh a gcuid ullmhúcháin.

Tuilleadh rabhaidh faoi bhéal Dé agus teachtaireachtaí bréagacha. Chomh maith le rabhaidh faoi bhéal na marbh.

Tuilleadh rabhaidh fós faoi na mairbh…

Bhí tú i gcónaí ar lámh chlé Dé, cén fáth ar cheart é sin a athrú anois? (Ná téigh os cionn do stáisiúin. Ná bíodh leisce ort a bheith i ngrá leat. Ná bíodh leisce ort a chreidiúint go bhfuil sé indéanta.)

Cuimhnigh nuair a ghearr Dia do sciatháin? Cuimhnigh nuair a thit agus thit agus thit tú? Ná leomh iarracht a eitilt anois.

Ná smaoinigh ar na leanaí roimhe seo - ná bí ag brionglóid orthu anois - leis an Tiarna, tá siad leis an Tiarna, níos fearr ná mar a bheadh siad riamh ar an Domhan. Fanann tú liom. Fanann tú le Doe.

Tá an sagart ag faire. Ach tá Meisias níos fíre. Is é an Meisias an geall is sábháilte agus is cinnte. Guigh ar a son. Guigh air. Fan le haghaidh revelation. Creideamh os cionn creideamh - pian os cionn crá - tabharfar luach saothair do ghrá, mar a bheidh an fhírinne.

An teachtaireacht chéanna le 9

Tá a fhios agat cad atá tú. Bhí a fhios agat i gcónaí.

Tá tú freagrach as an tairseach. Is é do phost é.

Má osclaíonn tú an tairseach, fanann cochall na naomh ort. Chochall na naomh dírithe ar ghrá, adhradh, agus deabhóid.

Braitheann na hamlínte ortsa a bheith i lár na soiléireachta. Agus anois, tá siad lofa tríd agus tríd.

Cuimhnigh go bhfuil imoibriú dearfach ann do gach imoibriú diúltach - dorcha agus éadrom. Tá rud éigin amuigh ansin ag obair mar atá tú, ach tá sé tinn, agus caithfidh tú fanacht go maith.

Tuilleadh meabhrúcháin faoi na hamlínte agus na peirspictíochtaí iolracha. Eolas ginearálta maidir le fanacht dírithe agus bunaithe.

Tá taobh istigh na hEaglaise, an Chreidimh, an Chreidimh ionat tinn agus as ord. Tá siad ag casadh agus ag amhras agus ag ithe iad féin. Tá siad ag baint iad féin as corp Chríost.

Gardaí ort chun deireadh a chur leis an breoiteacht - an baol - na tinnis. Féachann sí i do chodladh thú agus ullmhaíonn sí d��intinn. Tá grá aici duit - tá grá ag Doe duit - agus coinneoidh sí slán thú.

Cén chuma a d’fhéadfadh a bheith ar olc uaireanta gurb é an leas is fíor agus is cumhachtaí atá ann – cé is mó atá ciaptha ná naomh nó fáidh? Cé a thugann níos mó maith?

Beidh scrios ann. Caithfidh tú do rúin a cheilt agus a choinneáil gar. Roinn ach an méid atá uait. Tú féin a chosaint. Coinnigh do domhan beag.

Ní éiríonn na hamlínte ar dhaoine eatarthu agus i bhfostú go contúirteach mura gcoinníonn tú do chloigeann díreach. Ná lig tú féin a bheith ar dhaoine eatarthu. Ná bíodh amhras ort faoi na comharthaí.

Explanations in English

Mostly, Doe is nursing a new beginning and new person at the tenuous connection between us and that if I don't pull my act together, well this might all just turn out to be incredibly fucked up--but hey, what's new about that...

Beware the mouth of God, it is hungry, and it is raging--beware fools bearing messages--know who you can trust. (As if Doe has ever made that easy...)

The Dead are making their preparations.

More warnings about the mouths of God and false messages--as well as the mouths of The Dead...

Even more warnings about the dead...

You've always been God's lefthand why should that change now (don't get above your station--don't dare to be loved--don't dare to believe it is possible)

Remember when God clipped your wings? Remember when you fell and fell and fell? Don't dare try to fly now

Don't think about the children from before--don't dare dream of them now--with the Lord, they are with the Lord, better than they'd ever be on Earth. Stay with me, stay with Doe.

The priest is watching--but Messiah is truer. Messiah is the safest and surest bet--pray for him, pray to him. Wait for the revelation. Faith above faith--ache above ache--love will be rewarded, as will truth.

Continuation of the same message as 9

You know what you are. You've always known.

You are responsible for the opening of that portal. It's your job.

If you open the portal, sainthood waits for you--sainthood centered around love, worship, and devotion.

The timelines depend on you to be the center of clarity, and right now they are rotten through and through

Remember for every negative reaction there is a positive reaction--dark and light--something is out there working as you, but it is sick--you must remain well.

More reminders about the timelines--multiple prospectives--general info on staying centered and grounded

The insides of the Church--The Faith--The Belief--of you are sick--are out of order, are turning and doubting and eating themselves--removing themselves....

Doe guards over you to remove the sickness--the danger--the illness. She watches in your sleep and preps your mind. She loves you--Doe loves you--and she will keep you safe.

What looks like evil can sometimes be the most genuine and powerful good there is--who is more harassed than a saint or a prophet? Who brings more good?

There will be destruction--you must hide and keep your secrets close. Share what only you must. Protect yourself. Keep your world small.

The timelines will only become dangerously confused and entangled if you do not keep your head on straight. Don't let yourself become confused. Don't let yourself doubt the signs.

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acourtofquestions · 16 days ago

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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.

#Chapter 61 #Kingdom of Ash #Sarah J. Maas #Lorcan Salvaterre #Elide Lochan #Elorcan #Aelin Galathynius #Chaol Westfall #Rowan Whitethorn #Fenrys Moonbeam #Gavriel #First Read along with me NO SPOILERS PLEASE though warning for post & tags up to KoA 61 & more reacts/notes/quotes in tags below #Agony was in his very blood-Summons-She had come for him-Let go.No.Always?-She came this far-THANK YOU ELIDE-The voice of Perranth #My lady-Together till the end-if only the horse could Fly-A prayer-Made himself watch-But Aelin-hell yes-So he might tell the story #Not forgotten-For her friends-To get Aelin-Where was she?MY HEART-The shaking was her-The springs-He knew-Three months #Every single day-But for Maeve’s meant for Maeve-she knew he’d know-his power the counteracting-GET FUCKING DOWN-She had not given up #A thousand years for here months endured & one moment-Spent here-To save them-Burnout or Blessing-UTTER Awe-A miracle #A curse to enemies-All of them really-she drained the bank & there he was-THE FIRE BRINGER-glowing blinding white out for the world #she became the flame-Master of death-heir of Fire-Nothing remained-That’s what was eating her alive-Its grief but more-she was still—#capturing flame-She didnt want2lose it either-It was all of it-But also Aelin had a plan-be glad4it-They would save them she didnt need it #Back to Aelin-She began fighting-Quiet-Fell to what he knows-Sweet darkness-the power dive #No.#You know it’s bad when Rowan’s prayingWhen even Yrene is praying but not save to give peace&painless ends but Aelin’s off to save the day #Not for the Lock not for Erawan. But for Maeve's death blow. & now to save Elide; Marion would be proud #the way he’s thinking about I’ve gotta get Aelin out of here #Into the burning heart of the world. — the world shuddered #Aelin I am a god Galathynius-The raging soul of a flame-thats her-shed made the final descent right then for Elide-Rowan plummeted for her #Spent here to save the army that might mean Terrasens salvation-not2kill2spareNoblessinNocurseMiracleWomanA war won-friends held him up #One hell of a rumor-Gentle from the north-Malas Heir-she had sung to the darkness&flame&they had sung backthe same story #GETDOWN.Back into Aelin he was there there how did he get there so fast?sweet darkness 1 last time

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