#there i finally made the tag. thank GOD

[lureofthegallowsgame]

Hello author ! I hope you're doing well ! Since it's quite cold where I'm living, I had a thought : are the ros the kind of persons to snowball fight ? Are they good at it ?

It just snowed last week where I live, and it got me thinking about this ask again, so here you go! :)

Leo was absolutely terrorized by their older siblings throughout their childhood; they always enjoy a snowball fight with their friends and family, and they are frighteningly good at it. They do have a soft spot for their younger siblings and Seer, though, and there have been times when that group teams up to take them down.

Eli is an unwilling participant, but they don’t go down easy. They could melt the entire area if they wanted to, but it is more fun to get a few shots in at Warren and Leo before they start to melt anything that comes within range. Then Warren likes to see how much he can pelt at them before he gets a hit.

Warren loves a good snowball fight and will often be the first one to initiate it. Wyatt loves playing with him because he doesn’t hold back as much as Leo and Eli would, which often results in Leo taking Warren down fairly quickly. He finds it hilarious, though, and even Leo grins as they pack the next snowball together.

Fin enjoys a good snowball fight, but they enjoy the surprise much better. They will spend their entire day trying to sneak up and aim a snowball at the Naturalist’s back, with fair results. You can best believe they will throw a snowball at the Seer and laugh when it makes contact; it’s far easier when your target can’t sense your adrenaline rushing through your veins.

Ambrose used to love the snowball fights he had with his sister when they were young. Now, it’s a little harder to get him to loosen up and enjoy himself, but he still has the same terrible skills that let his sister win all the time as kids.

Luna hates the cold, and she hates being pelted with snowballs just as much. She will always take the chance to pack one together and throw it at the back of Warren’s head, though. She has impeccable aim, but not as much endurance as her preferred targets...

Jules also hates the cold, and prefers to be wearing a wool coat and watching from the sidelines. They will jump in to help the losing side, though, and that’s when the game takes a turn for war. He likes to stay warm and dry, but he likes the look of shock and outrage he gets when he joins just as much.

Hazel loves the snow, and she loves snowball fights just as much. She doesn’t get cold or tired easily, and she’s often the last one standing in the wake of chaos. She isn’t the best when it comes to aim, and sometimes her snowballs fall apart midair, but she still loves it.

Faye prefers other snowsports, like sledding or skating, but she doesn’t argue when it comes to snowball fights. She just picks up a pile of snow, and it’s every man for themselves. She doesn’t hold back on anyone, though she often makes an alliance with someone and they become a strong opponent duo.

Bonus: In a fight out of all of them, I think it would be a very close match between Leo, Hazel, and Jules. Depending on who was involved, it could easily go to any of them.

[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.

[argentinpantsuit]

Happy Valentine day too my parents …..

One day ……..

( 😭😭😭😭 they loved eachother so damn bad )

[sasanyaustala]

Template by moonelneki on twitter

[ehlnofay]

I Walked Into The River

The Tree of Shades, fed by a spring deep in the Shivering Isles' underground, will not surrender its secrets to one who has not earned them. The erstwhile Hero of Kvatch and Sheogorath's current grudging Champion has little left to prove and even less to lose.

I wrote this piece for the summerfest prompt "mirror" and am posting the full thing for the free day! it's my take on the doppelganger bit of that one quest in the shivering isles, which always struck me as having a lot of unrealised potential (especially in conjunction with running themes of duality the questline already has). I've had this idea for a long time now and this event finally got me to actually write it out, which was a lot of fun! if you're inclined to check it out, please do - it would give me much joy :)

[that1notetaker]

Okay so Sonic Prime was basically a weird game of seven minutes in heaven, right? Kissing may not have been involved but everything else sure was.

[akkivee]

🙂↕️🙂↕️okay okay okay so so far within the og divisions we have:

❤️: they strive for a world where words solve conflict. they pointedly did not use mics to express this. at the end of the track, they’re dynamic as brothers has shifted to a more equal dynamic, where ichiro doesn’t feel so compelled to raise them

💙: they strive for a world without violence and used their mics to resolve the conflict. at the end of the track, they reject their status quo and aim to find a new one to change the world without the use of violence

💛: wanted to be real with each other and used their mics to get that across. at the end of the track tho, they say that truth doesn’t really matter anyway and stay true to the selves they formed their bond with

🩶: a battle of wills using the mics. jakurai’s love for yotsutsuji manifested in the form of sacrificing himself and dohifu trying to stop him using their love for their bond as mtr. at the end of the track it’s that love that’s saved jakurai, healed hifumi and elevated doppo’s status at work

and things have changed for all they’ve stayed the same so i’m genuinely curious where nagosaka fits in this lol

[ramsheepram]

God, forgive me.

[moth-flowers]

moth-flowers #? uhhh let's say 16 cos that's the last time I actually numbered one of these oops :) there's other comics between here and there i just forgot to number them and don't feel like going back and editting them rn

[phagodyke]

dating an art student was so crazy I'm just thinking abt that one birthday I had where my ex got me stickers from the etsy of the person they were cheating on me with....

[missmouse43]

6 weeks of breathing clean air, I still miss the smoke…..

🏝️🤙🏄🏾‍♀️🏄🏼‍♂️💔

[jlfs-ol]

Baxter Ward in other relationships: *quick flings/hook-ups/nothing serious bye*

Baxter Ward with the MC in Step 3: *will not do anything beyond a hand squeeze or hugs/arms around them/on their shoulder unless the MC either seems to want it or instigates it*

The irony that when he actually cares and has feelings, his initial immediate reaction is to hold back because he knows what's coming and that it'll make it hurt more. The silliness of Mr. Direct and Forwardness when he actually cares about the other person is a lot.

I mean, he even gets surprised when the MC missed him while he was gone before Drinks happens and still thinks he doesn't bring value just for who he is. >_>

[probablygayattorneys]

Not to be too personal or too much of a sad bastard but

Happy Father’s Day to Professor Layton, Miles Edgeworth, and Kyle Hyde.

These characters were the ones that were there for me when my real father wasn’t. I know they’re not real, and Kyle especially would HATE that I’m including him in this, but when I was a little kid peering around the curtain to see if my father was at my recital and always seeing an empty chair next to my mom, I always knew that those three would always be there for me, if I just turned on my DS.

They never let me down and if I am a kind, considerate person, if I am a true gentleman, if I believe in justice and that standing up for others is important but not as important as standing with others, if I believe in second chances and forgiveness and the infinite nuance in people and their ability to change and be better… it is because of the example set by these characters. They’re not perfect but they’re actively trying and they make me believe that I can, too. That even when I’m not being the kind of person they’d be proud of, that I can still try a little harder and it’s never too late to start anew.

So yeah. Happy Father’s Day to Professor Layton, Edgeworth, and Kyle. 🤎🩷🖤 And especially to my biological father, I wish him a Father’s Day. I hope wherever he is, he’s having a day. ❤️

[widevibratobitch]

what/who is your fav don giovanni. mine is muti with shimell. but no one beats siepi in acting. kwicien maybe

ohhhhhhh bless you for asking me this <3333 under the cut so as not to spam

i gotta say, I have a soft spot for Mariusz Kwiecień (he was my very first Don Giovanni, actually - that Met 2011 production was the very thing that got me into opera in the first place!), he's definitely THE best 21st century Don Giovanni to me. Acting-wise he's absolutely breathtaking and even if he cannot compare vocally with the old giants like Siepi I'd say he was pretty decent (i'm so weak for him singing that one ✨andiam✨ in La ci darem la mano in falsetto - he always does it and my legs always turn to jelly in that moment). Saw him perform it live only once and that was the moment i truly understood what the word katharsis meant. fucking CHILLS.

I really, really love Samuel Ramey (especially when paired up with young Furlanetto!). That hair, the little earring, that insane stage presence and energy. Also I don't think I've ever heard another rendition of Fin ch'han dal vino that would be as precise as his. It's a devilishly difficult aria, especially when done in the proper tempo, there is quite literally no space to breathe, it's insane - god knows I'm not an easy listener and bitching about opera singers is my personal hobby; but in the case of this one aria I am very forgiving and I usually just expect the singer to fuck it up with no hard feelings from me - but Ramey doesn't miss a single note!

And of course, of course - Cesare Siepi. I think he's the most legendary Don Giovanni and no wonder really. He's amazing, simple as that.

There are many good Giovannis out there, but those free are my personal favourites - though bonus points for... Bryn Terfel. I'm not a huge fan of his singing but that dude can act. Not to be a mean bitch lol but he obviously wouldn't be anyone's first choice (definitely not mine) for a character like Don Giovanni appearance-wise. AND YET - he somehow makes it work... chapeau bas (talking about that Met DG under Levine - say what you want about Levine, I hate that bitch as much as the next person, but he's one of my favourite conductors for both Mozart and Verdi... yikes).

if we're talking specific recordings... I don't have a perfect one, I'll always find something that I'd change, whether it be tempo or a singer. But yeah, I'm also really fond of that Muti recording! The tempi are insane sometimes, some are even faster than what I'd set myself and that's honestly impressive, brave and so so sexy of Muti fr. I think if I had to choose just one recording, that would be it. The cast is also good, especially the ladies. Vaness as Elvira (she's absolutely stunning, also as Anna with the amazing Jerry Hadley in that one Met Recording - also with Ramey and Furlanetto - she's THE soprano for all Mozart roles for me, her Fiordiligi and Vitellia are also legendary), Studer as Anna and I really like the Zerlina, I'm so tired of squeaky meowing Zerlinas like Battle and the whole gang...

Another two I like, though perhaps more for the singers than the conducting itself, are the one with Ramey as Giovanni, Furlanetto as Leporello, Agnes Baltsa as Elvira and Gösta Winbergh as Ottavio under Karajan and one with Sherrill Milnes as Giovanni, Walter Berry as Leporello and Żylis-Gara as Elvira under Böhm. I generally tend to concentrate on the singers more and only really notice the conducting when it's so awful that I just can't look past it lol

wow, that was long, weird, who would have thought that you'd get a long answer from me to a Don Giovanni related question huh

[enterstellars]

and with that i do believe that my run with interstellar in imax has come to an end.

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

no pressure tag: @thecottageinthedark, anyone else who wants to do it! (i am so so bad at thinking of who to tag in these whoops)

Doing one of these but with my mutuals after seeing this image on my dash today!!

..Y'know he may be the god of war but.. I'm not mad. No, no not at all. :)

@xxgalacticambitionsxx @hatbox-apologist @ghostingyourass79 @kittieshauntedourfantasy @emerald194 @thatonerabbit @comical-icicle