#the last god of spring

[plumdonutsv]

i really wanna talk with someone about webtoons i enjoy reading: covenant, the last god of spring, jackson’s diary, the croaking, sunset phoenix, it strikes a chord, suitor armor, time and time again, the blind prince, solid state

[phantomarine]

Spending more time on Webtoon has given me a lot more suggestions on comics to read - I’ll make some lists of recommendations here, just to spread some good words and attention!

Will share more as I read new stuff:

1. Nonesuch, by The Bitsy Artist. I was drawn in by the unique cut-paper-esque artstyle, but got hooked into its rustic horror mindfuckery real fast. Creepy clones, untrustworthy alliances, cool gunplay, and surprising commentary on love and disability. I have DEVOURED it.

2. The Last God of Spring, by Kotopopi and Milena. A sleeping god-king will soon awaken in a post-apocalyptic world, and his militaristic religious order must be ready for his return. Greta and Elias fight for their place in the hierarchy - but what are they REALLY fighting?

3. Sunset Phoenix, by NeverDraws. Immortal crime bosses manipulate their world with magic, and can reconstruct themselves after taking fatal blows - most of the time. When one of them is murdered, all hell may break loose. It’s so freaking stylish - I am WEAK for Val’s design.

[webtoon-related-tournaments]

Seraphina:

Some might say she has magenta hair, but isn't magenta basically purple ? Also her sister's hair colour is purple ( Leilah ) . Seraphina is strong, confident. She's an amazing friend, and is good at mobile game apparently . Oh and she's currently part of a terrorist organisation and on the run according to the government of their world, but also it's corrupted AND evil soooo .... Her power is Time Manipulation

She's so badass! She has the ability to manipulate time + is currently working to demolish the corrupt officials in government whilst being on the run. She has experience being the most powerful, but also being powerless and so she has a pretty broad view of what the world is like. she also drinks what could be considered an unhealthy amount of boba

Luck was submitted without propaganda.

[incrediblysalt]

The Last God of Spring

One of my favorite webtoons released the epilogue recently and it was such a delightful story I was inspired to make some fanart :D I had fun redrawing my two favorite panels featuring Greta and Elias, the whole story was so fun and interesting to read I’d highly recommend it!!!

[graphicpolicy]

Around the Tubes

Some comic news and a review from around the web to start the day #comics #comicbooks

It’s one of two new comic book days! What are you all excited for? Sound off in the comments. While you think about that, here’s some comic news and a review from around the web. The Beat – A Year of Free Comics: What’s the real mission in THE LAST GOD OF SPRING? – Free comics! The Beat – Anyone Comics’s BROOKLYN PRIDE COMIC BOOK FAIR returns this weekend – If you’re in the area, check it…

[canisalbus]

Just wanted to say I'm really happy that you have shared so much about your characters! I've been following you for a long while now, and I think I remember your post expressing worry about talking about your characters. After seeing all the love shown to them, it makes me happy that you decided to!

Aaa thank you for your kind words! ;-;

[22.7. Editing these here]

[jarvesque]

There has been a lot of discourse surrounding the rat grinders and it's (mostly) been really cool and interesting

But while I love their complexity, and I think that it is important to remember that they are teenager who may have died in a very traumatic way before coming back, I also think that some people in the fandom are a bit too forgiving torwards them

There's a point where "They're teens,don't be so hard on them" doesn't cut it anymore.

They spent 2 years killing small animals in the woods before going to their spring break Adventure

(which sure,is kinda normal for Aguefort. But they kept doing it even when they were higher level instead of going on actual adventures because it was easy)

Kipperlily complained about fairness and how the Bad Kids had an unfair advantage but then her and her party only ever picked easy adventures that would not challenge them or teach them anything

And also,while it can be understandable to want to feel unique and I agree that Kipperlily's anger issues are a sign of deeper problems;

we can all agree that a fairly wealthy girl with living parents being envious of a lower class boy whose mother can barely pay for food because she is jealous that his dad died horribly when he was little IS absolutely fucked up right?

Like, it's such a deeply entitled attitude; and it doesn't make her a monster, but her not being a monster doesn't make her an innocent little angel who never did anything wrong; a middle ground exists

[finngualart]

saw the new beech leaves catch the spring sunlight when i was outside just now and i had to go home immediately and draw about it

[wikitpowers]

WE’RE OFFICALLY 499 DAYS AWAY FROM SPRING 2026!!! THAT ALSO MEANS THAT CASSIE POSTED THE KITTY LETTER ON DAY 500… I’M NOT OKAY :(

[heartstopperthoughts]

MY LOVES

[nekrosmos]

Part 4 of my GhostSoap Dragon's Dogma 2 adventure !

The boys had a date by the lava at night, finally reached the hot spring and had a great time, and thanks to a mod, Ghost can now carry Soap bridal style, as he should ♥

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

[greeen-bean]

Thinking about Aled Last again

Thinking about Jimmy Kaga Ricci again

Thinking about Fereshteh "Angel" Rahimi again

Thinking about Pip and Rooney again

Thinking about Daniel Jun again

Thinking about Carys Last again

Thinking about Frowan again

Thinking about TaoElle again

Thinking about Sunil Jha again

Thinking about Charlie spring again

Thinking about Micheal Holden again

[forthetaintedmemes]

Chuuya: We don't HAVE to shoot him.

Arahabaki: Boy if you don't at least bust his kneecaps he's never going to learn.

Chuuya: Yeah no you're right *cocks gun* So anyways....

[clove-pinks]

I'm back from the Fitzgerald Experience at the National Museum of the Great Lakes! It was an interesting experience for sure, with so many connections to local history within living memory. I had no idea that the Fitz was called the "Toledo Express," among other nicknames. The Canadian-born Captain Ernest M. McSorley was living in the Toledo area, as were many of his crew.

Museum ship Colonel James M. Schoonmaker is 600-something feet long, with a 65-foot beam, vs. the Edmund Fitzgerald's length of 729 feet with a 75-foot beam. They are fairly similar Lake freighters in terms of construction and size. The tour highlighted parts of the ship implicated in the sinking of the Edmund Fitzgerald, and oral history collected from Great Lakes mariners.

There was also a copy of the lyrics of Gordon Lightfoot's song "The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald" in the galley, with words highlighted in red that don't match the known history e.g. saying that the Fitz was headed for Cleveland, when she was destined for Zug Island. Lightfoot was close to the families of the crew, and he actually changed lyrics on request and would perform the song differently in concert, although this isn't reflected in popular recordings.

A salty (sea-going freighter) was traveling down the Maumee River during the tour, to great excitement all around.

The museum guide mentioned that all the salties look like this: rusted and decrepit after 10+ years of sea-going service, when a laker wouldn't look like that after 50 years. Built in 1911, Colonel James M. Schoonmaker was actively in use until an economic downturn in 1980.

[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.

[a-rogue-tiddy-bot]

I would just like to take this moment to point and laugh at Dorian. Touchstarved demo is better than your entire catalogue of games put together. Suck it, losers.