#thank you rowan!!

[elinorbard]

🌹

(playing: for every rose received, I'll post one sentence from a WIP)

Enver stood behind the podium on the convention stage, and even with the stadium empty, the rush of power was intoxicating.

[carnalapples]

🎧

[soulsty]

Goodbye Houseki No Kuni 💚

[rootsbe4branches-trolls]

She's NOT going to heaven

She is CLEARLY joking guys, I just found the comment @crowneprince left under The Forever fiances comic funny because when I tell you my girl Willow is NOT seeing the pearly gates (But yeah they would get married there)

Okay but In a more serious way, both of them are flawed characters and not perfect parents of course I just want to show you their good parts before showing you their complicated personalities, they are very different trolls and of course have made a lot of mistakes while rising brozone (I mean look at Jd)

[sollucets]

— evening sun, jane kenyon

as long as he lives one day, I'll live that day with him.

[jhonny]

"stop talking like that boy you're ruining my tboy swag" - yami bakura, probably

or, when both bakuras are trans but only one of them has perfected the trans voice.

+ bonus thief king (as a treat)

[jinjjayo]

XIAOTING TIPI-TAP @ MUSIC BANK 241108

[astrathecowboy]

the scrungles... the blorbies... the sillies.... also so getting art block immediatley? relatable. thanks for drawing anyhow!! its super cute (^_^)!!

can you do a lil doodle of felix and stella? i miss my boy and his necromatic cat... thanks in advance! 🩵

*asks for people to request things*

*immediately gets art block*

i lost the ability to draw. but like. i sort of did it. i miss them too

idk what cats look like. i don’t know what people look like, this is bad but it’s them, sort of. yea

Stella, on Felix’s shoulder 👍

[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.

[its-short-for-jackalope]

one of my mutuals reblogged this screenshot onto my dash yesterday and when I saw it I basically blacked out and wound up with this, so..... here you go! 🐐🟨

bonus:

Alli idk if you have tumblr or else I'd tag you lol

and since im here, here's another friendly reminder that if you also have the Hatchetfield brainrot and you're a cool nice fun person, we have a whoooole discord of cool nice fun people you can hang out with!

👉🏻 @blinkysrewatchparty ✨️👁💜

[carnalapples]

favorite line game

thank you @rowanisawriter for the tag!! this was a ton of fun.

directions: pick up to 10 characters and share one of your favorite lines of dialogue you have ever written for them!

cullen, a heart that laughter has made sweet (dragon age)

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I’m not very used to compromising. Really just following orders and giving them.”

ashna (oc), safe house (dragon age)

“I’ll lead, if that’s what worries you.” She bites her tongue on the words and at the little duck of his head towards the paper. “When we dance.” He swallows, and she watches the bob of his throat.

shepard, those who are in favour with their stars (mass effect)

“You don’t think I’ll last a week.” She smiles sharply. She’s gotten very good at starting fights and very bad at finishing them.

josephine, hold tight to everyday life (dragon age)

“Well, you must get over it, then, and come visit me in Antiva. We can sail all the way to the edges of the map,” and she places both hands on his arm to rock him, “the boat slowly rolling with the waves, back and forth, back and forth—“ “Maker, save me,” he huffs, his face going pale as he shoves her off. She laughs, and for a moment, the assassins are completely forgotten.

cassandra, a heart that laughter has made sweet (dragon age)

“Forgive me,” Cassandra interrupts, her voice steely. “I am new to politics. I find the whole business unsavory. So forgive me if I have not mastered the art of speaking in half-truths."

branka, gold dust woman (dragon age)

“That’d be wonderful,” Branka says, screwing her face up in a smile. She traces her thumb across Hespith’s collarbone. “I know you love rhubarb,” she directs to her. Hespith coughs. Oghren’s heavy tread disappears down the hall.

[homoeroticgrappling]

Based on the community effort in this post, I decided to do a quick sketch of Jack and Darby as my favourite internet famous lesbian photograph

Junglecorpse as Smith College Girls for i-D Magazine 2004

[brotherconstant]

FOUNDATION ➤ Timestamp Roulette 1x08 The Missing Piece 🧡 @xiradax 🧡

[sollucets]

Can I ask you something? Of course.

[blakeswritingimagines]

Wednesday characters with a southern s/o

Wednesday: She has found you to have a very charming voice. She does not think your southern drawl is very hard to understand or very annoying but she won't tell you that, but it does get on her nerves when you occasionally use words that are grammatically incorrect. Such as saying "I seen.." She has explained to you that saying "I have seen.." would make more sense when recounting an event but if you keep doing it she does find a soft spot for it, she has learned to like your accent. It’s very attractive, especially the way you pronounce “Wednesday”. She enjoys that you can make all kinds of southern phrases sound lovely to her. She loves it when you call her your “little witch”, or your “mischief” Since she will often hear you call other people darling and sweetheart.

Enid: Having an attractive southern romantic partner is a treat that not many others have. Enid loves having a southern sweetheart in her life because you always treat her with respect and adoration. She thinks you're always extremely polite and chivalrous, opening doors for her and pulling her chair out at restaurants. She doesn't like it when others try to get you wound up and listen to your accent get thicker but does love hearing how you say the same thing as her just differently and it's always a surefire way to cheer her up.

Xavier: Oh, he thinks it's a lot of fun. He loves your southern drawl, and he finds it to be so cute and charming. Even when you get mad, and start swearing up a storm, he can't get mad it's just so adorable. It is a little annoying sometimes as not everyone understands your accent, which can cause some misunderstandings especially after he noticed your southern drawl gets a lot thicker when he teases you playfully. Loves it when you start being a bit sassy toward him if he pushes too far. When you both tease each other, you both can often go into a bit of a little argument, and he can tell your trying to resist laughing a bit it's actually really adorable to him.

Rowan: He thinks southern accents are the most attractive accents in the world. He can't get enough of your sweet southern accent and dialect. He absolutely melts whenever you say "y'all, bless your heart, sugar, baby, mama, honey, dear, sweetheart, babe, sweet-tea, etc", It's rough sometimes. Especially because you can speak too fast for him and sometimes the words just mash together like goulash. He'll think the biggest issue is when you use "y’all" because he keeps thinking you're talking to or about multiple people. But the real icing on the cake is when you say “I love you” or when you call him “Honey”.

Tyler: He thinks it can be frustrating sometimes because he has to concentrate on everything you say or tell you to repeat/slow down so he feels like he has a chance. He has wished you would just be quiet sometimes and stop speaking like he teases by saying, cowboy. Your accent was one of the reasons why he fell in love with you though. It’s unique and not everyone gets to hear it every day. It’s just adorable but he was confused when you said you liked his accent even if it is to tease him.

Ajax: It was not easy to understand you in the beginning. But once he got used to the accent, he found your accent absolutely cute he guesses he is now used to it and he likes it even if people do have to come to him asking what it was you said. He finds it unique and it makes you special to him. (If you were to try to get rid of your accent or hide it, that would feel like some part of you was gone and he wouldn’t like that. A thick accent is actually part of who you are).

Bianca: She thinks having a southern romantic partner is lovely but also a challenge in some ways. You both come from different backgrounds and you each want the other to embrace your cultures. This is great because it brings more color and culture into your lives and your relationship. However, it can also create tension since you both need to learn to appreciate and respect the other's culture. The challenge is worth it, but it does take effort and compromise. In the end, has really come to enjoy when you sweet talk her more so when you will use words commonly regarded as a sign of endearment such as "darling" and "sweetheart" to describe her as you think that she is most pleasant and attractive.