#get your ash on

[intertexts]

what did u expect from me!

[bonefall]

Did Brambleclaw actually disown the Three when the secret is revealed? I don't remember this happening (then again, it's been a while) but it does bug me how all three go "Poor brambleclaw :(( He was such a good dad to us and he has to learn we're not even his biokits :(((( poor guy" while simultaneously shitting on Leafpool and Squirrelflight despite them showing them more care and affection before AND after the reveal. If he does disown them, then.... WOW is the double standard real here.

In-canon? It's something you have to approximate. They don't seem to have a concept of ""disowning"" because blood relation is taken as such an insurmountable, FUNDAMENTAL fact of life. He doesn't write them out of his little kitty will and testament, but his actions ARE disowning.

It's as if the fact he is not their biological father is an automatic disowning. From the reveal onwards, he is immediately cold, distant, and the "betrayal" is mentioned often. The Three also explicitly don't blame him for his behavior, like it's just to be expected that he's Not Their Dad anymore.

Lionblaze in particular stares longingly at him several times, really missing him. And like... that's kinda what gets my goat so much

I do believe Brambleclaw is entitled to his feelings of betrayal. I believe Squilf was ultimately in the right to lie, actually, but he's still allowed to be upset and angry that she didn't trust him enough to tell him something so important. THAT SAID, YOU ARE NEVER ENTITLED TO TREAT OTHERS POORLY.

And that's what GETS me. He isn't upset that it was all revealed in such a painful and embarassing way when this could have been avoided, or that his lover struggled with this lie for so long without him, or that he feels he's lost his children. Squilf points it out in The Last Hope-- He's so ANGRY at Squilf that he will THROW HIS FAMILY AWAY

Lionblaze seems desperate to be his son again. Hollyleaf is gone for months, and Brambleclaw is still huffing about the secret when she comes back from the dead. Squilf is fawning in the hopes it makes him talk to her again. Doesn't matter. Brambleclaw Is Upsetti Spaghetti so the narrative will never examine his role in hurting this family he apparently loved so much.

(Narrative seems to understand full well that when Squilf lies for a good reason, that doesn't invalidate the hurt Brambleclaw felt... but when Brambleclaw is upset for a good reason, it actually DOES validate what he put her and his kids through)

In BB it is explicitly a disowning. He cuts them off as his children, and they reciprocate. BB!Lionblaze does so in a ball of fury, vowing that he has ONLY a mother.

[ofstarsandmoonlightt]

Yk what I want for twp? Kit and Ash to have this reluctant siblings dynamic. Lol it’d be so fun, in the beginning they could kinda be untrusting of each other but then they’d have to work together and then they fight like siblings all the time but gradually grow to support each other and all hehe

[danwhobrowses]

For anyone else who is gonna struggle surviving the next 3 weeks with the angsty and tense situation of Callowmoore here's a few things from the last 2 episodes that I feel were underrated and will assist in trying to keep me sane/emotionally stable: - Matching messed up hands built for holding - Fearne nervously playing with her hair as she approaches Ashton - Ashton wanted Fearne to be either the last thing they saw if they died or the first thing they saw when they succeeded - Fearne's admittance corroborates Ashley's 4SD revelation that Fearne is in love with someone in the party but doesn't know how to process the emotions - Fearne wanted Ashton to be happy, while Ashton wanted to feel whole so they would be worthy of the Hells - Ashton twice tried to lead a search for Fearne, and instantly clocking onto Chetney saying he followed Fearne - Fearne making herself look as radiant as possible before giving Ashton the cold shoulder - Ashton only rose to Chetney's provocations until he said 'You hurt Fearne' Use how you will

[shouldhavebeenpersephone]

So I was re-reading Nona. And. Have we talked about this yet? Have we gone through the implications of this section?

NtN John 5:4. Analysis under the cut.

I always assumed the tower was a part of the Ninth because right after this chapter Nona sees the tower in the River and after that drives the truck everyone is in to the Ninth. But nowhere does it say that the tower is the Ninth.

I mean, looking at the description it certainly sounds like it - all grey and death, which is why I assumed it was. The Ninth is tall even if embedded inside of a planet, one could argue shafts are towers. But why would a tower of the Ninth be in the River?

First things first; the tower in Tarot stands for sudden change, confusion and awakening - I don't feel this needs further explanation on why it's relevant (I might, however, someday do a Tarot Locked Tomb analysis because there is A LOT there). It also refers to the Tower of Babel, which was destroyed by God along with the uniform language of Earth so that people would not come so close to Him again, so that they stayed vincible. Sound familiar?

John did make a uniform language technically, but he also separated the population to different planets, rendering them unable to unite and overcome him not only due to instilled nationalism but also due to the faults in the Houses. We know that the Sixth is struggling to keep up their lineages and population number - we know the Fourth die too young to really leave anything behind - we know the Second is too busy fighting wars.

This leads me to believe that whatever the tower represents will be the end of the world as they know it - maybe through a new God and an end to the Houses, maybe the end of Godhood and Lyctorhood in general. Either way, something is piercing through the River - something that has the power to change it all.

NtN Chapter 30. Nona's mind knew what it was "above" and "below". Does this refer to Harrow and Alecto?

Now let's go back to that first passage from John 5:4. The parts that stand out to me are 'speared-through and mute', 'a tower that soared, impossible and deadly grey', and 'lurching out of the River as though gasping for air.' All of this sounds like Gideon.

GtN Chapter 37. Very much speared-through and mute.

NtN Chapter 16. Ramrod posture? Soaring, impossible and deadly grey.

NtN Chapter 25. And Gideon knows what's in the River. Chances are that the tower is a construct created by John for whatever purposes. Gideon is also a construct created by John - at least Kiriona is.

I obviously don't know how accurate this connection my brain jumped on is, but it honestly makes a lot of sense to me. There is something below the River, just like how 'reality' is above the river. Especially when considering Nona referred to a thought above and below that knew what the tower was, it appears to me like the below is a plane much like reality and the River where things exist and can continue to exist. I have not yet sat with or developed an opinion on what exactly might be there, but there is something there. I think it might be the cavaliers.

So what if Gideon ended up there? What if, when she ended up in the River at the end of HtN, Gideon ended up in the below once Alecto was forced into Harrow's body? What if John knew all along how to reach there and he finally decided this was the time to bring something - no - someone back?

But you can't really reach the other plane without the River, can you? We have seen it with the Resurrection Beasts - they travel through the River and exist in it while simultaneously being above it. And, if we look at Palamedes, one who has passed and is part of the River needs a container of sorts to be above. Perhaps, then, one can sink while tethered higher in the three layers, but one cannot soar from below without a container to carry them up. An integrated cavalier is forced down, not reaching up - they are buried in the below.

So let's say John brought Gideon back. Her corpse would obviously be the container for her above. The tower, then, could be her container for the River. Ianthe could be using Gideon's aberration in the River as a means to anchor herself as well. That could be why they are the Tower Princes.

Alecto would know the tower was a gateway of sorts. She would understand, like presumably any other Resurrection Beast would understand. But Harrow. Harrow.

GtN Chapter 36. I cannot let go of this passage in relation to the tower. "Instead, she was Drearburh." "She took the whole putrid, quiet, filth-strewn madness of the place, and she opened her doors to it."

Cavaliers' tethers are shown through the eyes, through altering the look of that which binds them to above - so, maybe through being Gideon the tower became Drearburh. Maybe Harrow saw it, and felt it, and she saw Gideon, and she saw home. So she walked, and she walked, and she knew that it would lead back to her.

The tower - Gideon, then, will be the changer of things in the end. Maybe Gideon and Harrow, but definitely Gideon.

[hopesallwegotleft]

Chapter 14 — The Horror

[pallanophblargh]

I’m gonna have to accept my brain may always be soup at this point. But it beats feeling tortured all the time?

Anyway, pointless tattoo plotting. For myself. I don’t think it’s wise to consider what is basically an upper arm sleeve for my first, but it’s fantasy land if it’s just in the sketchbook and honestly? Anything to kick at the art block.

It’s all birds: blue Jay and Baltimore oriole, with fresh spring green ash leaves and an autumnal red oak. And maybe a hexagon in there somewhere, I can’t sort that out.

Anyway, this would encapsulate a lot of my favorite things in one go. All that’s missing is bugs! And a loon and pines, but that’s going on the other arm!

Maybe it’s futile to say this, but this humble scribble is for my use only.

[asheoninactive]

What silly individuals. Goofy even. Almost pathetic but in an endearing way. They do seem trust worthy enough. I bet they don’t make much of an impact in the third act of the game in an antagonistic way at all. We can trust them. They’re silly after all.

[womenenthusiast2]

Found @coeluvr ‘s game like a week ago and i had to make a design for my MC, it definitely turned out very extra but the patterns and details were so fun. The MC deserves only the best after everything they’ve been through honestly. And then my hand slipped and i added a bunch of doodles of (adult) LIs there too.

[ash-and-starlight]

OOPS I MEANT ZUKKA SCENE 😳

oh! my favorite zukka scene is this one <3

[clockwork-ashes]

All You Have Is Your Fire - Part VIII

Find Part I here :)

Summary: 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop.

Note: A huge, huge thank you to the lovely @bettdraws who literally deserves all the credit and whose post inspired me to start writing this. I could not stop thinking about this head canon, and it was so kind of you to let me try and make a story from it :)

And a huge thank you to everyone reading! ALSO has everyone seen this post, I gasped it's so lovely. All of @teddyhoneybear's moodboards are stunning <3

Tag List: @anishake / @nocasdatsgay / @mybestfriendmademe / @talibunny30 / @halfbutneverwhole / @wishfulimaginings / @goldenmagnolias /

Part IX >>

Elain crouched by the shores of a lake, her skirts the colour of wet dirt. The waters were dark, nearly black, and Elain was left with the impression that they were endless, no bottom to their depths. Elain reached out with her hand, the tips of her fingers creating ripples with the softest of touches. The water was so cold, Elain gasped in shock, the sound like thunder in the eerie silence. 

Elain could see the reflection of the night sky in the lake, stars winking at her like shimmering diamonds. The sky was clear, not a single cloud to be seen, but Elain frowned. She turned her attention from the waters, tilting her neck back, searching for the moon. 

Elain’s growing panic, a heavy and sinking stone, was made worse as she sensed someone approaching, soundless. 

A lone wolf howled, the wind carrying its agony. Elain felt a scream struggling to escape from deep within her chest, her throat tight – 

Elain woke up with a start, her eyes flying open, heart beating like a drum. Her unfamiliar surroundings did nothing to ease her nerves, but she slowly recalled where she was, how she had ended up spending the night in Autumn. 

Elain’s dream had been unsettling, everything sharp and so close to reality. She ran her hands through her hair, still feeling the phantom cold of the lake water on the tips of her fingers. She was reminded of the dream she had in Velaris, before Eris had come for her. 

At the time, Elain had convinced herself not to worry, that it had nothing to do with the cauldron’s curse, with the visions that had plagued her before the war. As Elain rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she came to the conclusion that something was decidedly wrong. 

With a weary sigh, Elain wondered if her abilities might be reacting to her mate’s proximity, to the bond between them.   

Lucien. 

Elain jolted in her seat, hugging the fur blanket around herself as she turned to look at the bed. The sheets were tucked under the comfortable mattress, the pillows placed carefully against the headboard, seeming as though no one had spent the night there. 

Elain would have expected to feel relief at Lucien’s absence, but was surprised at the disappointment that bloomed within her. Where could he have gone, Elain asked herself, frowning. 

Briefly, she worried that the High Lord of Autumn had simply changed his mind, had decided that she would be spared but Lucien’s life was forfeit. All she had done would be for nothing if Lucien were killed. Elain threw the blanket from her shoulders, but just as panic began to grip her, Elain dismissed the thought. There would be no point in Beron doing such a thing, she was sure. 

Elain guessed Lucien had merely gone to find Eris, or perhaps he had decided to see his mother. Elain knew from Feyre’s stories that the Lady of Autumn was brave, having risked her life under the mountain to help her sister. Rhysand had even mentioned how deeply Lucien cared for his mother, how it pained him that he was unable to see her.  

“Lucien’s fine,” she mumbled to herself, nodding as though she were confirming the thought. 

Elain blew a stray curl from where it had fallen in front of her eyes. She was a bit embarrassed with how much she knew about Lucien, considering how she never spoke with him. 

Elain collected bits of information on her mate like someone might collect rare and lovely coins. She would learn about him, feel guilty for wanting to know more, and promptly choose to go about her business as though it meant nothing to her. 

Elain could hear his heart beating through the stone. 

With a frustrated huff, Elain stood from the chair she had spent the night on. Her shoulders were stiff and she stretched her arms with a yawn. In the light streaming in through the windows, Elain looked more closely at the suite. Everything was organised, the few dresses she had brought were already hanging in the closet. 

Elain began to get ready, choosing one of the warmer dresses she had and placing it on the bed as she went about her morning routine. Elain’s mind quickly went to Cora, and she hoped rather selfishly that the other woman had not been sent back to the Night Court. 

Once Elain had prepared herself for the day ahead, she couldn’t help but curiously wander around the room, checking in every drawer, under all the pillows. She even placed her hand close to the fireplace, checking to see if the flames would burn her. Elain snatched her hand away quickly, embers flying, taking note that the fire was very much real. 

Elain’s slippers were soundless as she stepped across carpet and stone, making her way to the oak doors that led to the hallway. The gold handle was cool to the touch, and as quietly as she could, Elain checked to see if it was locked. 

With surprising ease, she was able to open the heavy door. Only a fraction, just to peak outside. Elain saw no one lingering outside the suite, no guard, although she assumed at least one would be stationed nearby. 

Elain nearly jumped out of her skin as she heard approaching footsteps, the low rumble of a man speaking. As carefully as she could, Elain shut the door once more, wincing at the soft snick of the lock falling into place. 

Out of pure interest, Elain pressed her ear to the aged wood. 

Perhaps the nobles had woken, Elain knew many lived within the Forest House, that it was large enough to be a small city, and the halls would soon reflect lively and busy streets. 

Elain bit her lip in focus, waiting patiently, her fae ears straining, but she caught the familiar timber of Eris’s voice as he spoke quietly. 

While Elain could not deny that she was very curious to hear what Eris might be saying and to whom, she stepped away from the door, knowing that in a matter of moments he would knock. 

The three short taps as Eris’s knuckles hit the wood between them still startled Elain despite how she had been expecting it. 

“Elain?” Eris’s voice followed the knocks, muffled. While not unkind, there was a sternness to his question. Elain noticed how he had not called for Lucien.

Elain waited a moment, so as not to reveal that she was standing by the doors. She straightened her skirts, taking care that there was not a single wrinkle on the fabric. She took a breath, knowing that Eris would not harm her, but still feeling a slight unease in his presence.     

Elain opened the doors, her expression pleasant. Eris looked tired, she noticed, his amber eyes dim. Elain did not dwell on it though, not as her gaze flicked past the imposing prince of Autumn and went straight to Cora at his side. 

Cora’s hair was loose, falling in pretty waves to her waist. She was lovely in a modest, dark brown dress with golden leaves stitched along the sleeves, and even though it was simple, Elain still found her beautiful. 

Elain could have hugged the other woman in relief, glad that her impulsive actions had not resulted in any harm coming to Cora. Elain was sure she would not have been able to live with herself if anything had happened to her lady’s maid, regardless if they barely knew one another. 

Before Elain could utter a word, Cora’s shoulders relaxed. “I’m so glad you’re alright.” 

The feeling was mutual, Elain flashed a sincere smile her way, but she did not get the chance to respond. Not as Eris seemed to think it would be ideal to cut their conversation short. 

Eris wordlessly walked past Elain and into the room as though it were his own. She could do nothing but shoot Cora a questioning look, following Eris further into the suite and leaving Cora to close the door behind them all. 

The heir of Autumn’s observant eyes lingered on the chair by the fireplace. Elain saw as they took notice of the cosy blanket heaped on the cushions, the flattened pillow still resting against the arm. “Slept well?” He raised an auburn brow at her, knowing exactly where she had spent the night. 

“Yes, thank you,” Elain responded politely, “the room is lovely.” 

With a mocking little tilt of his head, Eris acknowledged her words. There was a stiffness to his movements, somewhat less elegant then when she had seen him last.   

“Where’s Lucien gone?” Eris asked, glancing around the space. He seemed unconcerned, no hint of what he might be thinking on his blank face. 

Elain’s lips tugged down as she frowned involuntarily. “I wouldn’t know.” She tried to shrug off the fact that she was bothered by how Lucien had not told her, or left her a note at the very least. “He was already gone by the time I’d woken up.”

Eris took a small breath, his nostrils flaring. “Well, he hasn’t been gone long.” 

Elain wanted to ask how Eris would know such a thing, but instead she said, “I thought he might have been with you.” 

Eris scoffed, “I doubt he wants to speak with me.” 

Elain watched as Cora looked at Eris, how her eyes went to him only to quickly look elsewhere.   

“Should he really be on his own?” Elain asked, trying to keep the concern from leaking into her question.  

As Eris settled his amber eyes on Elain, she felt as if he could well and truly see inside her mind. Something flashed in his assessing gaze, and he hummed softly at the emotions he must have seen reflecting in Elain’s dark eyes. “I suppose you have a point,” he offered in response. 

With the smallest of bows in her direction, Eris turned to do the same in Cora’s, embers falling from the tips of his fingers. Elain could have sworn a blush stained the other woman’s cheeks, perhaps in surprise that a High Lord’s son would offer her such respect. 

Eris did not bother using the doors, opting to winnow. 

There was a beat of silence after his departure before Cora spoke. “Isn’t he frustrating?” 

“He’s quite literally the only ally we have,” Elain smiled in amusement, “I guess we have to get used to him.” She did not admit that she rather liked Eris, or at least, she liked the man he presented to her. 

Cora scrunched her nose as she walked further into the room and went straight to the windows, pulling the heavy curtains open all the way. She watched the falling leaves, captivated, her hands resting on the sill. “At least he’s nice to look at,” she mumbled. 

Elain couldn’t help her giggle as she followed the other woman, looking at colourful trees as far as the eye could see. 

“You’re getting married, I hear,” Cora added, still staring out the window. 

Elain breathed in deeply, taking longer than necessary to exhale. “Eris told you?”

“He didn’t have to, it’s all everyone's talking about.” Cora flicked her hair over her shoulder before turning to look at Elain. “All the servants are gossiping about it, and I even overheard some nobles whispering your name.” 

Elain’s lips parted in shock. 

Cora smiled at her, her expression reassuring, enough to comfort Elain. “Don’t look so surprised, Lucien was well-loved in Autumn and your sister is Prythian’s saviour.” 

“I’ve been told gossip spreads like wildfire in this court,” Elain breathed a small and nervous laugh. “I just hadn’t been expecting it to be so literal.” 

Cora opened her mouth to respond, but she stopped short as Lucien winnowed into the suite, golden light flaring around him. 

Cora did not jump, almost like she was entirely used to handsome men appearing from thin air. Perhaps she was, Elain wondered how old the other woman could be, assuming that after a certain age very little could be considered surprising. Elain, though, was startled, taking a step back so that she nearly bumped into the wall. 

Lucien bowed to Cora in greeting, an Autumn court custom, Elain concluded. “Lady,” he said softly, before he turned to Elain. His gaze lingered, and Elain fought the urge to swoon as he said the same to her. 

Elain bit the inside of her cheek in frustration at how she responded to his every word. Cora seemed completely charmed, and jealousy, brief and annoying, flashed within Elain. 

With a stammer Cora excused herself, almost stumbling over her own skirts as she practically ran to the door. With one last parting look in Elain’s direction, a final check to see if she was alright, Cora closed the door to the suite behind her. 

“Hello, Elain,” he said rather formally, his hands behind his back, shoulders straight. His golden eye clicked into place, the russet one bright, the colour rich and lovely. 

Elain kept her fingers laced and her arms in front of her. “Good morning, Lucien.” 

At her words, Elain watched as he stiffened, a puppet with his strings pulled taut. Lucien cleared his throat, “Eris said you were looking for me.” 

“I wasn’t,” Elain interjected, her words clipped. She saw hurt flash across his expression, but if she had blinked she would have missed it. “I mean, I was just… I suppose I was worried, that’s all.” Elain decided to offer him some honesty, to confess her thoughts to him so that he might understand her a little better. 

Lucien nodded, his face clear of all emotions, but the bond between them suggested he was just a bit saddened, perhaps regretful. “Then I apologise, that wasn’t my intention.” 

Elain clenched her jaw as she considered apologising for being so short with Lucien the night before, but she knew well that she would not have meant it and dismissed the idea quickly. 

The silence between them was awkward, but Elain allowed herself to take her mate in, her brown eyes raking over him. Some part of her was pleased as she heard his heart skip a beat, but she knew it was just the bond. 

Elain frowned, she ran her fingers through her hair. “What do we do now?” Her question was sincere and she wondered if Lucien could feel how anxious she was now that the dust seemed to have settled. 

“I mean,” Lucien started, Elain tracked the way he licked his lips, “we do have a wedding to plan.” Her eyes widened at the suggestion until she realised it was a joke. “Or, if it pleased you,” he quickly added, “we could go to the library?” 

Elain could acknowledge that Lucien was trying, and she appreciated how he attempted to make her feel at ease. Still, Elain prayed he did not get his hopes up, that he understood where her mind was in regards to their bond.  

Elain flashed him a small, genuine smile in response. She tucked a stray curl behind her arched ear, and for the first time in years, she did not notice its faerie shape. “I wouldn’t mind going to the library.” 

She took a few careful steps towards Lucien, towards the oak doors leading outside their shared suite. Elain almost reared back as his scent enveloped her, at the feeling of wanting to press her face against his neck and breathe in deeply. She pushed the thought aside, hoping he was unaware. 

Lucien did not offer her his arm, and Elain was grateful, but a small voice inside her head urged her to reach for her mate all the same.

[sant-riley]

I love Price so deeply but if he blew cigar smoke into my face, I'd have no choice but to kill him tbh

[dameferre]

Darling You Will Bury Me (Before I Bury You)

“Your most exalted highness, it is an honour to be able to represent my nation and family by serving a son of the Water Tribe chiefdom. I hope to prove myself equal to the task, and worthy of the trust this great, distinguished nation has placed in me.”

Zuko bows again, lower this time, clearly subservient. It’s like the weight of the moment is physically bearing down on his shoulders; Zuko, the son of a genocidal tyrant, bowing to a man from a race his father tried to annihilate. A prince of the Fire Nation willingly submitting, volunteering to devote his life to the protection of a future chief of the Water Tribes. This is the kind of moment that echoes throughout history.

“…dude.” Sokka’s eyebrow, if possible, jumps higher. “Anyone ever tell you you come on a little strong?”

After an attempt on the future chief’s life by those who oppose the unification of the Water Tribes, it is decided that he, as a non-bender, requires a bodyguard to ensure his safety. A young prince of the Fire Nation is granted the privilege and honour of the task.

Zuko, after about a day and a half spent with Sokka, privately thinks it’s a fucking miracle no one’s tried to murder him before.

[orallech]

they should add an option where if you sign the contract with Raphael you can grab him by the waist and dip him low and kiss him so sweetly and he’s just more confused and then disappears for a while so you can’t contact him and then shows up days later like nothing happened and it’s never addressed. Until he maybe sends you a letter at the epilogue camp or something but you have to do several weird steps to decipher the writing and once you read it it catches fire and turns to ash immediately. Where’s that addition, larian?

[ozymoron]

yeah baby lets goooooooo

it says friends on the front too btw

[sea-buns]

Holy fuck, man. What a trip Fearne has been on, huh?

You tell her how grateful you are to have her in your life, you flatter her, you tell her you need her, that you have to do this together. You have her make a promise that has this woman, born of chaos and fey, agreeing through shaking hands and a trembling voice.

You make her deceive your friends; you make her follow where they cannot know; you make her help you into this contraption; you make her feed this thing into you despite the fact that you both have been warned extensively of the risks. You make her watch you crumble and splinter and shatter and fracture and burst and implode. You make her watch you die, over and over and over and over, for a minute in agonizing bullet time.

You make her do all these things, because when she tries to back out, when she tries to not be the one who let you do this—how could you do this—

you tell her, "YOU PROMISED."

Because if there's one thing you know, it's that the fey do not break a promise.