#“but they still held me. yes

[shokveyv]

shut up

[itsalwaysforyou]

there’s blood in the water, there’s blood in the water

kenny ortega, descendants / the crane wives, the crooked, the cradle

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

No Sharing.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[perenlop]

im abt to rb a post on this anyways but tbh i dont know how you can finish isat and go “siffrin wasnt punished enough”.

the fella has killed themselves several times, what more do you want from him?

[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.

[foodsies4me]

Username Song Game

Rules: Pick a song for each letter of your URL and tag that many people.

(Yes I cheated and changed the 4 to "for" but I couldn't think of any songs I like that starts with the number.)

tagged by @dandelioncasey, thank you!

F - Foreigner's God (Hozier)

O - Old Witch Sleep and the Good Man Grace (The Amazing Devil)

O - Once Upon A December (from Anastasia)

D - Devil Doesn't Bargain (Alec Benjamin)

S - Someone Like You (Adele)

I - Indigo Night (Tamino)

E - El Tango De Roxanne (Moulin Rouge Soundtrack

S - Soldier (Fleurie)

F - Fils de joie (Stromae)

O - Off The Edge (Voilà)

U - U (Belleà

R - Ruminski (The Sidh ft. Marcin Ruminski)

M - Marbles (The Amazing Devils)

E - Eat Your Young (Hozier)

...that is a lot of people to tag. Okay, let me check, I am tagging without any pressure whatsoever @miss-mouse, @myulalie, @carelessflower, and @demy85. That's already four.

Then @just-add-butter, @justawanderer, @echo-bleu, @goldendreams3 and @thousandelf.

And to finish it off, @kalalab, @faejilly, @the-amber-fox, @allfinehere and @lawsofchaos1. (As well as anyone who sees this from me and wants to participate!)

If I haven't completely forgotten how to count that should be 14 which is officially the largest amount of people I've ever tagged at once.

[megaawkwardhuman]

*in the voice of one of those old ads about mesothelioma*

if you or a loved one have an adverse reaction to the words "that's his boss" you might be entitled to financial compensation

[mostofthingsmostofthetime]

Hey, so I know it's been a long time, but I suddenly felt inspired to make some Annie Cresta Picrews. So here you go & I hope you like her as much as I do.

Pre games

Parade outfit

1st Interview

Training

Games

Victory interview

District 13

Post war

[thelien-art]

Day 2: Maglor of @feanorianweek

Kingship

Poppy = Sloth | Manipulation

I do think Maglor mourned when Maedhros got himself captured, I just also read Maglor as a manipulative power hungry character.

He probably convinced himself that Maedhros had died and ignored everything that proved otherwise, both as a poor coping mechanism and, subconsciously, seizing the power of being a king, although he never named himself one as that would give him trouble. He differently enjoyed the power and mourned, when Maedhros came back, for the power loss. He was happy to have his brother back of course. I don´t think he spoke against Maedhros choice to give the kingship to Fingolfin, even if he wanted it himself, as he did except Fingolfin to do something stupid and get himself killed eventually, and by agreeing he seemed more "civil" and the friendliest of his brothers, which would end up giving him political power, giving people the illusion that he´s the innocent and harmless of his family.

Maedhros | Celegorm | Caranthir | Curufin | Ambarussa | Nerdanel and Feanor

[funishment-time]

(more miuposting) thank you all for

being mature and understanding that just because some of my faves are the Problematic Girls doesn't mean i think it's good they behave that way or that we should all put up with people who behave that way etcetera. i'm so traumatized by Twitter Tactics still ha ha.

anyway

it seems we've all come around on Toko but i know a lot of folks still shy away from the golden girl Iruma Miu. and i get it. i would never say you Need to like Miu, nor am i offended when people dislike her: she is extreme in a way that i think even surpasses Toko.

Miu is selfish and Miu crosses boundaries and Miu is really horribly rude at the worst times. however, Miu also, canonically/semi-canonically:

has psychotic breaks/delusions and depersonalizes (Shuichi FTs)

is so excited someone's paying attention to her that she doesn't mind if it's a fight/negative (Kaede FTs)

admits that her personality is an act (Love Hotel)

is so lonely she's willing to have a baby just to ensure her partner doesn't Leave (Love Hotel)

doesn't have Friends (Kaede FTs/Summer Camp)

is actually quite bothered she has no Friends but Toko does (Summer Camp)

acts surprised that Kaede is worried about her (Kaede FTs)

admits no one pays attention to her Inventions very much (Shuichi FTs) and invites Kaede for a sleepover the moment Kaede does (Summer Camp)

gets provoked by Kokichi for no reason, constantly, in a weird sexualized way (most of her English interactions with Kokichi - i'm told it comes off differently in Japanese)

continually talks about how no one understands her (every FT ever)

immediately falls in love with Shuichi in an Obsessive way because he acted like any person would and stopped her from self-harm (Shuichi FTs)

is genuinely sad when she thinks Shuichi doesn't want to be near her (Shuichi FTs/LATU scenes)

this is all unsurprising to me, because most people don't even try to talk to her like she's a Human Being, and when they do, they immediately get mad/aggressive and won't de-escalate. no, i don't expect Therapist Talk out of DR characters, but man, fucking...of course she's a weirdo who thinks she's a cyborg, when you even have Shuichi saying it's creepy when she's happy:

in her mind, he only ever Cares about her when she's having a breakdown! he considers her Pube Blood Food a sign of a "genuine" love confession! Miu's behavior makes total sense to me.

this does not Justify how she is, no. but i see a lonely and alienated girl who decided to act out in an attempt to get some attention, even if it's bad. Miu reads as severely mentally ill to me and just because her mental illness isn't cute, aesthetic, or quiet doesn't mean she doesn't deserve healing.

[dawnlotus-draws]

A loneliness like morning frost.

[crookytail]

it’s incredible that I thought it would ever be anyone other than Davrin for me like he’s SO pretty

[betryl]

It's been said a lot of times before but I'll say it again because it's true: the country house section is one of the best, if not THE best section of the book.

It's weird to say considering how "useless" it is in terms of plot (there's the Bacchanal happening in the background but of course we know nothing about it yet), and there are many parts that are way more interesting in which actual things happen. Plus, it is quite long, so a lot of pages of basically nothing.

And yet in retrospect, that's the part that stuck with me the most in the end, and it still is one of the first things that come to mind when I think back on TSH.

It was just that vivid. Maybe it's because I've experienced something similar myself so I could sympathize with how Richard was feeling too. I just remember I was totally immersed in it the first time I read it. I really felt like I was there. And even if it did last longer than I expected and I wanted to go on with the story already, I didn't feel bored.

Apart from simply ✨the atmosphere✨ and ✨the aesthetic✨ being on point, I think the main reason for this is that it really fed the illusion, and it made you FEEL like Richard. We knew from the very first page (lines!) that this book was probably not going to be a joyful one. But while they were in that country house, everything seemed fine. Richard was finally making his way into the group, they were starting to be more open towards him, they were all having a great time together, we got to see their little stupid shenanigans which made us know all of them better and me inevitably attached to all of them (Bunny throwing Henry and Francis in the water will never not be funny to be) and they even started daydreaming about the possibility of living together in that house without anything changing in the future.

It was clear even while I was reading it that all those things would have never become true, and that the illusion would have shattered soon. But still a little part of me kept on believing that maybe that could last, because the way it was narrated by Richard was... weirdly hopeful, which isn't something I can say about any other part of the book I believe. It was hopeful, and yet there was that unsettling sense of dread creeping through the lines, because you KNEW the murder was coming soon and everything would end. But just like Richard, I just... didn't care in the moment.

The country house section to me was somehow a snippet into what could have been if they never murdered Bunny- or even before, if they never had the Bacchanal at all. Could things have gone wrong at some point still, for whatever other reason? Probably yes. Maybe they weren't meant to last anyways, maybe they weren't even friends in the first place, everyone has their own thoughts about this. But it's sweet to think about. Now knowing the whole story and how terrible the situation actually got makes those pages even more painful. Those really were their happiest times.

Also I could talk about Camilla cutting her foot too but that's maybe another post for another day before this becomes way too long lol.

Also also the cherry on top for me was definitely that last couple of lines which got to me HARD and make my heart ache still:

There was a ragged burst of laughter; faint, but clear, it floated back across the evening air. That laughter haunts me still.

[thatone-churro]

TOO FEMME TO BE MASC TOO MASC TO BE FEMME WHAT THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO DOOOOO 😫😫😫

[dayurno]

my advice for anyone whos growing more and more frustrated with the state of aftg and fandom at large is that arguing is fun but you need to be happy. ok. you need to. its hard when bad faith takes are dropped to your doorstep but you need to be happy and enjoy yourself and have fun or there's no point in anything at all ever. ok. fandom is not real and nothing is worth more than your enjoyment. i love you please make sure to have fun and reach out to a friend today. for me

[blitzbuckz]

bodyguard it is . . .

@the-smallest-star