#the master of flames.... it's him

[lunarharp]

idle scribbles once more U_U

[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.

[fisheito]

wait. puss in boots rei? unfulfilled dream? as.. as in. kinda like. a last wish.? like. the last puss in boots movie.? perrito garu?????

[and-so-he-rambled]

[theerurishipper]

Not to barge in on the discourse, but @sokkastyles made a great post about the significance of associating Zuko with the rainbow fire, and I left a tag rant back there that I now want to elaborate upon.

Anyway, the rainbow fire is arguably specifically linked to Zuko because it connects to his arc. Not the rainbow colors themselves, but what they represent, which is the true essence of Firebending. Aang and Zuko both had to learn the true meaning of Firebending, but the moment was more significant in Zuko's arc than Aang's because Firebending is at the core of his story in a way that it isn't with Aang. Zuko's Firebending has always been a central point in his journey, and the whole scene with the dragons and the true meaning of fire is a metaphor for his arc of learning to accept and embrace that which the Fire Nation has rejected.

The two dragons have always been a motif in Zuko's arc and have symbolized the two sides of Zuko that he had to reconcile within himself. Zuko had to learn the true meaning of fire, which was rejected and erased by Sozin, and this directly connects to his arc about learning that his traits and qualities which his father rejected and punished him for were things to be accepted and embraced.

And it is also a very significant moment in his story of being the one to restore the Fire Nation's roots and the spirituality that had been lost because of the war his ancestors started. His role is to rediscover the roots of his nation and bring it back in order to restore balance and heal his nation. Him being able to bend the rainbow fire, which is the physical representation of the spiritual essence of Firebending and the Fire Nation itself that he is seeking to restore would be the perfect way to represent his arc as the one who will restore those spiritual roots. Him bending the fire with the colors, thereby bending the fire in its purest and truest form, which was formed by the two dragons merging their flames together, would be representative of him completely and fully reconciling the two sides of himself and embracing who he truly is.

The whole idea of the true meaning of fire, while being an exploration of the effects of war, is literally a metaphor for Zuko's arc of finding a new path forward while reconciling both sides of himself and rejecting the path his father set for him. That's why it's less thematically relevant to have Aang or Iroh bend the rainbow flame, because it is representative of Zuko's arc, and Zuko's role in the story is literally about being the one who embraces and restores it in order to redeem his nation and help bring balance back to the world.

[runningfromevil-mp3]

I sometimes think Xisuma (and Evil Xisuma) designs are missing Doom inspiration to them. Maybe its because Xisuma probably needed a full .WAD to replace the Icon of Sin from Doom 2 with Evil Xisuma's face (I assume), or because Xisuma made something similar to the classic Doom flesh texture on the side of his build once, or maybe because I like mixing character designs together. It could be cool. Also there's so many demons in Doom with horns or interesting designs you could add to his helmet. If I could draw helmets then I'd do it.

[senseioftheseidiots]

Okay, since I've been asking pretty lighthearted questions, I've decided to go for a hard hitter.

...Considering Wu can get pretty violent in his Dragon-like form, has he ever...lashed out at anyone just for getting a little (more like a lot-) mad ? I have a few bets that he managed to lay a big scar on Garmadon because he was that angry. And considering Garmadon was on the verge of killing his own son at one point, that would be justifiable to an extent.

[twilight-skies]

Ok so we’re all in agreement that post canon when everything’s chill Jeong Jeong and Piandao are living their best cottagecore-but-mansion lives, and we all love the ‘Aang tells JJ about the Sun Warriors and Piandao convinces him to go see it for himself (cuz he def doesn’t believe it)’ idea BUT might I now suggest:

what if he spends longer there than Aang/Zuko/Iroh did to learn more and finds out that they have healers too. Fire Healing is a technique that exists similar to the more known Water Healing, but it’s existence got buried as one of the many secrets of Firebending forgotten with the Warriors themselves. What I’m saying is Jeong Jeong returns and spends years practicing (still terrified of burning someone who’s already hurt) and exchanging letters with both the healers he met and Yugoda until he’s mastered it, eventually becoming the Fire Nation’s first known Bending-Healer. And then perhaps at Iroh or Zuko’s suggestion he teaches it to (a stable to the point where she wants to better herself but can’t figure out how) Azula. Healing with fire is more difficult then with water and as a new art is still a rare skill by Korra’s time, but Jeong Jeong and Azula learning it and teaching it to others is how we eventually get this: (perhaps zuko has it become an essential technique for Fire Sages to learn?)

(Disclaimer I haven’t seen tlok yet so idk what else happens in this scene other then a woman using fire to figure out what’s wrong with korra)

So yes this whole post is just about the two Firebenders we never got healing arcs for becoming their nation’s first healers and both learning the essential truth that fire is more than death and destruction or rage and suffering <3

[yakool-foolio]

One part of chapter 3 that I really want to emphasize in my Death Knight Yakou AU is that there's a sense of connection that Yakou desperately clings to with the Resistance, especially with Shachi. Since Shachi is a former employee of Amaterasu, Yakou can't help but ask if he's familiar with his wife. Shachi doesn't know much about her since they worked in separate divisions of the company, but he talks of hearing passing comments about her astounding research in her special field of study in medicine, yet she still knew how to keep her secrets. Yakou's heart aches. Even she wouldn't spill everything she worked on for him. With Amaterasu's higher-ups holding her in their crosshairs, she had no choice but to seal her lips shut. It doesn't hurt any less. At least Shachi could remind him of what he was hellbent on fighting for.

After Shachi tells Yakou about his own experiences and his mission for the Resistance, the chief opens up as well. He relays that his detectives all vanished after Amaterasu destroyed his home, fearing the worst and ridden with guilt when he swore he'd protect them. Shachi empathizes with him, offering to help him find his missing detectives as long as he'd help them in turn. Yakou, grasping at what little living testimony remains of his wife and sharing the goal to protect the city, agrees to the plan.

The inevitable death of Shachi would've drove Yakou to the brink of despair, if not for the company of Yuma and Fubuki to keep him from flying off the handle.

[sharkzippo]

* st. john allerdyce edits ... the post-college journalist years.

[goldenworldsabound]

Do you think Kabu will ever get added to Poke'mon Masters

[khalixvitae]

Yk maybe I’m not ambivalent about Sunday

[corallapis]

ALSO THOUGH you CANNOT TELL ME “I Called Out Your Name” WASN’T A SONG HE WAS PLAYING FOR HIM. THAT HE HADN’T PLAYED THINKING OF HIM A THOUSAND TIMES BEFORE

literally eight's narration over the opening of the film is 'i stowed his remains safely for the voyage back. because even in death i couldn't trust him.' and then we get the song. so like what else are we suppose to conclude.

[todayisafridaynight]

NO RIGHT like I was thinking about that the other day too and Surely Jo does not have a particularly rich inner life... I love that scenario with Ichi dearly though!

But while I was going through times I'd mentioned my dreams earlier, I saw I'd once dreamt that Jo was an avid rhythm gamer lmao

I'd pay an inappropriate amount of money to watch Jo fuck it up on DDR PLEASE that sounds like Such A Dream ☠️☠️

[goldenlaquer]

I have a weird dream where Seiji make appearance at Love Choriss arc, he showing off his (2D) girlfriend and made fun of Gintoki, what do you think?

YESYESYESYESYESYES EXCELLENT DREAM. I THINK YOU HAVE THE GIFT OF DIVINATION MY DEAR

[sith-shenanigans]

@commanderfoxtheshield There is a universe (read: SW5e server) where she basically is and it has caused so much trouble for everyone forever

Alright, reblog and tag with the previous person's OC that is basically a canon character to you