flaming whip

2

Fire Agate + Bubbles (Lapis Lazuli) = Charoite!

Fire Agate is so volatile and unstable her fusions come undone very quickly or just don’t work at all. However, Bubbles is the only gem able to stay fused with her for long periods of time because of how strong their bond is.

Charoite is roughly a head taller than Garnet, can summon cloud wings from the gem on her back, and her weapon is a flaming whip (basically the same weapon as Agate, just purple). I haven’t completely decided on her personality but I’m thinking she’s pretty chill and upbeat.

Their fusion dance is roughly based on the 50s Jive

2

Dany darted underneath the flames, swinging the whip and shouting, “No, no, no. Get DOWN!” His answering roar was full of fear and fury, full of pain. His wings beat once, twice … 

… and folded. The dragon gave one last hiss and stretched out flat upon his belly. Black blood was flowing from the wound where the spear had pierced him, smoking where it dripped onto the scorched sands. He is fire made flesh, she thought, and so am I.

These are some boards I did from the episode “On the Run.” Sometimes when we have specific timing in mind, we time out the boards ourselves and give them to our wonderful animatic editor Lauren Hecht to use as reference. She always has great ideas for ways to improve the flow of our scenes.



In “Watermelon Steven” Lamar Abrams had introduced the new secondary powers of the gems like Amethyst’s spin dash and Pearl’s projectile beams, and i was excited to use them in as dynamic a way as possible. Introducing new gem powers and abilities is always a blast and I had fun coming up with Amethyst’s new ‘flame whip.’



This was a shot that i animated myself with advice from Jeff, it was a lot of fun to do. Since day one of working on this show I knew that a conflict like this between Amethyst and Pearl was inevitable and I secretly hoped that Jeff and I would get a chance to tell that story. Special thanks to Nick DeMayo, our animation director, and to the fantastic animation team at Sun Min in Korea for bringing this episode to life!

2

I was sitting in the Great Hall, picking at my scrambled eggs on the plate in front of me. I wasn’t much of a breakfast person, but with a full day of classes ahead of me, I needed some food. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lily’s flaming red hair whip around as she swung her leg over the bench to sit down next to me. James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter did the same across the table.

At the sight of Remus, my stomach did a tiny jump and I felt my face blushing pink. I tried to tear my eyes away from the somehow godly sight of him shoving cheese into his mouth.

Remus was my closest friend out of the four guys. He was the only one who seemed outwardly and obviously very motivated, just like I was, so we often went to the library together for study sessions and to gossip about the others.

“So how are you all?” I asked my friends through a muffled mouthful of eggs.

“I’m just dandy, thanks very much, y/n.” Sirius slouched in front of me and grumbled. Sirius wasn’t a morning person, and he became a very sarcastic beast when someone spoke to him too early in the day.

“I wasn’t talking to you Sirius, you nasty old man.” I poked fun at the half-asleep boy, then immediately turned away when he started to turn his glare towards me. Remus burst into laughter at the stormy look on Sirius’s face, and the probably terrified one on mine.

“Say, y/n, I think I left my quill in one of the bathrooms. Can you come with me and help me find it?” Lily looked up in the middle of rummaging through her bag and gave me a pleading look. 

I looked over at Remus, who was already smiling and rolling his eyes at me.

“Lily, why on earth is your quill in the bathroom?” I sighed an exasperated sigh at my friend. Although a genius, Lily was sometimes a scatterbrain, forgetting her things everywhere. Nevertheless, I put my fork down and got up with Lily, waving goodbye to the boys and following her out of the hall.

When we reached the bathroom, I stepped inside one of the stalls, saying, “I just don’t understand, Lily. How–” I stepped back out, seeing that no one was in the bathroom. If Lily and the boys were playing a prank on me, I needed to get out fast.

I quickly escaped the bathroom and shut the door behind me. I turned around to Remus crouching down on the ground, looking for something. 

I crouched down next to him. 

“Um, Remus?” 

Startled, he shot up and looked at me sheepishly.

“Hey, y/n. James and Sirius took my paper for Potions and flung it under one of the statues, and I can’t find it.”

I giggled and started helping Remus on his search. After a while, I saw something white underneath the statue of Newt Scamander. 

“Oh, Remus, I see it here!” My hand shot out to grab it, but at the same time, Remus’s hand moved towards the same spot and his hand ended up resting on top of mine. 

My face was burning as if someone had thrown a torch at me, and I forced my eyes to look up at Remus. To my surprise, his face was bright red too. He grinned at me and pulled out his paper. 

“Thanks, y/n.” 

“No problem.” 

I walked with Remus back to where the others were, and Remus just couldn’t stop babbling about stupid things. I watched his face and the color in it refused to die back down, just like mine. I looked at my feet, hiding the goofy smile on my face, happy to listen to Remus’s continuous flow of words. 

well, i’m home now
that was so gr8
i didn’t really post too much because i was just trying to enjoy myself & stay disconnected for the most part but we did lots of fun stuff
played a bit of magic the gathering which was p nifty & like i mentioned before we drove around a lot
but i think my favorite part was going to a renaissance festival, that was the coolest shit
there was so much handmade shit & steaks on stakes & a guy cracking flaming whips & jousting & this one guy who sounded like a mix between Sparx the dragonfly & a trumpet who handed me a flag and tried to communicate (in his buzzing trumpet language) that i should wave it & when i did he did a fanfare and threw confetti on my friends and i & at one point we were watching a “torysteller” and eating italian ice and a lil bee kept coming over to me and eating some of mine, it was kinda cute 
there was also that lake house deal which was scary at the time but looking back on it was really p awesome 
obviously my favorite favorite part was just being there again and getting to see my bf and spending time with cool people all the time. being there makes me super happy.

Smooth Criminal : Rhys and Aelin

Video link 

(i would watch and listen first, then read and imagine it. because you wont be able to read fast enough to keep up with the lyrics)

For @hermajestymanon


Rhys had made such a mistake trying to battle Aelin. Then again, Rhys was probably thinking the same thing about Aelin. Aelin flipped her hair over to her shoulders and she straightened out her short black leathered dress. 

Rhys brushed Cassian off, stopping his brother from massaging his shoulders. He popped his knuckles before fixing his blazer and then standing up. Aelin turned to Aedion and she kissed his cheek gently before walking around the chairs, set up like a spiraling circle. 

Both Cassian and Aedion pulled out their cellos before sitting down in the chairs. They shared a look, and Cassian had the nerve to wink, before they tuned their cellos. Ready to play. 

Aelin dramatically sat down in one of the chairs and she looked at her nails. Both Rhys and Aelin gave a small signal and Cassian and Aedion began to play. Their arms and fingers moved back and forth, and music filled the room. 

“Uh, as he came into the window, it was the sound of a crescendo, uh!” Rhys maneuvered around the chairs, slowly getting closer to the Queen of Fire. “He came into the apartment, he left the bloodstains on the carpet, uh!” Rhys sung the next lyrics into Aelin’s ear, brushing her shoulder before he spun away. 

Aelin sucked in her breath and her eyes followed the High Lord of the Night Court, her usual smirk still on her face. “She ran underneath the table, he could see she was enable” Rhys stood behind Cassian, who was playing harder and harder by the second. Aelin crossed her arms, lifting a well sculpted eyebrow. 

“So she ran into the bedroom. She was struck down. It was her doom” Aelin slowly got up as Rhys sang the next few lines. She weaved around the chairs, running her nails along them. “Annie, are you okay?”

“So, Annie are you okay?” Aelin’s voice mixed with Rhys’s and it was Aedion’s turn to begin playing just as hard, if not harder, than Cassian. 

“Are you okay, Annie?” Rhys asked again. Both the King and Queen moved forward, and Aelin sang with him again, “So, Annie are you okay?” 

“Are you okay, Annie” Rhys walked forward and Aelin walked forward as well. “So, Annie are you okay?” They were chest to chest and Aelin smiled, spinning around the High Lord. 

Their shoulders brushed as they sang the line again, and they were on opposite sides of Cassian and Aedion. “Are you okay, Annie?” “So, Annie are you okay?” Both of them walked quickly around Cassian and Aedion and they met again, their noses almost touching.

“Are you okay, Annie!” Both of them sang at the same time. Aelin spun away, forcing Rhys to follow her. Aedion smirked and he played louder, staring Cassian down. 

“Annie, are you okay. Will you tell us, that you’re okay?” They both sang and Rhys chased after Aelin, who was gracefully maneuvering around the chairs. “Uh!” Rhys added at the end. And Aelin’s heart jumped once again. 

“There’s a sign in the window,” Rhys had finally caught up to Aelin. He braced his hands on the back of Aedion’s chair, trapping the short blonde in between his arms. “That he struck you - a crescendo Annie!” Aelin pushed him back and she smirked, ducking out of his range. 

“He came into your apartment, he left the bloodstains are your carpet” “Uh!” Aelin smiled cooly and she backed away, as it was Rhys’s turn to lead their little dance for power. 

“Then you ran into the bedroom, you were struck down. It was your doom” Aelin sucked in her breath as Rhys slowly walked backwards. Her eyes followed him and she felt a tingle in her spine and fingers. 

“Annie are you okay” Rhys sang and Aelin answered with, “So, Annie are you okay” 

“Are you okay, Aelin?” Rhys smirked. No. Aelin was most definitely not okay. She pulled herself together and continued to sing the three-lined conversation with Rhys. 

She tipped her head back and smirked, beckoning Rhys forward. Like a good little bat, the High Lord went after her, as they still sang. Cassian and Aedion sat out of the chairs slightly, their arms moving faster and faster. Their muscles straining against their tunics. 

Aelin spun around, her chest really touching Rhys’s this time. “You’ve been hit by” His voice held a sultry tone and Aelin’s chin tilted up slightly. 

“You’ve struck by” Aelin brushed her fingers down his side and Rhys shuddered. 

“A smooth criminal” They both sang at the same time then dramatically parted ways, Aelin making her heels clack loudly. They both turned around and they watched Cassian and Aedion as they both had their solo parts.

Aelin’s solo part was coming and suddenly the room was engulfed in darkness. Cassian and Aedion used their Illyrian and Fae senses to continue to play. 

Rhysand was the dark to her flame and it made her blood grow incredibly warm. She liked that. 

“I don’t know!” Aelin sang and she tilted her head back. She burst into a column of flames and the room lit up. The darkness and the flame swirled together and Aelin was a pure deity in that moment. 

Rhysand’s voice froze in his throat. He was in awe. Rowan Whitethorn was a lucky hawk. “Annie are you okay, will you tell us, that you’re okay”

“I don’t know!” Aelin sang louder. Her flames danced around her body, her arms pale but glowing. She spun around, elegantly balancing on those heels. She buried her fingers in her hair, her hips swaying once. 

Rhys decided to use her light to his advantage. He crept through the darkness and sprung out into her flames. Aelin whipped her head behind her and she saw his wings. Her breath ceased to exist as Rhys sang, “There’s a sign on the window, that he fucked you - a crescendo Aelin” Aelin sucked in her breath as Rhysand changed the lyric. But it worked so well. 

“I don’t know!” Aelin sang again and she spun around. The darkness swam in her flame and created a crown on her head. Aelin spun around in a circle, and her flames devoured the darkness. 

The room was light again and sweat was forming on the back of Cassian and Aedion’s necks. Rhysand spread his wings wider, and a strange sense of male pride flooded his veins as Aelin took them in slowly. “He came into your apartment” “I don’t know!” Aelin cut him off, but Rhys sang the next line, “left the blood stains on the carpet”

“I don’t know why, baby!” Her voice was absolutely heavenly. Had she called him baby? No. It was just the song. Rhys slid across the floor, the purple-blue-and black membranes in his wings pulsing and glowing in Aelin’s red-orange-yellow-and gold light. 

“Then you ran into the bedroom” “I don’t know!” “You were stuck down. It was your doom Aelin” Aelin spun around in her flames again and she smiled, squishing her hips once more. Rhys had seen men fight and kill for hips lesser than hers. 

“Annie, are you okay”

“Dang gone it - baby!”

“Will you tell us, that you’re ok”

“Dang gone it - baby”

“There was a sign in the window”

“Dang gone it - baby”

“That he struck you - a crescendo Aelin”

“Hoo! Hoo!” Her name, on his tongue, while Rhysand was singing, could have been Aelin’s undoing. Feyre Cursebreaker was a very lucky female. 

“Came into your apartment”

“Dang gone it!” 

“Left bloodstains, on the carpet, uh!”

“Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!” 

They were incredibly close now. Just Cassian and Aedion separating them. Rhys made the move. He curved around the cellists. He was hunting his prey. His eyes were set on Aelin. Her gold hair in flames, her skin glowing. Her fingers like little fire balls. His target was in reach. 

Aelin’s chest was moving rapidly. She knew Rhys was in the final control. And she hated it and loved it at the same time. He was looking at her flames, the same way she was looking at his wings. 

“Then you ran into the bedroom”

“Dang gone it” Aelin sang louder as Rhys closed the space between them.

“You were struck down. It was your doom, Aelin!” Rhys wrapped his arm around her waist and braced her fully against his chest. Her flames died down and Rhys’s wings slid back into his back. 

“You’ve been hit by” Rhys sang slowly as Cassian and Aedion finally came to a stop with their playing. 

“You’ve been struck by” Aelin purred. 

“A smooth criminal” They both finished. Their breaths sputtered out of their mouths and Aelin grinned. 

Rhys leaned forward and he kissed her. And Aelin didn’t exactly stop him. She wrapped her arms around his neck as the Illyrian ran his hand down her back and cupped her waist, his other hand cupping the back of her head. 

His tanned fingers tangled themselves in her blonde hair. Aelin tilted her chin back and she brushed the two slits in Rhys’s blazer, where his wings had been. She knew they were sensitive. And Rhys’s shudder confirmed that. 

They both pulled away at the same time. Aelin’s cheeks were flushed with a bright rouge and Rhys was breathing hard. No one had noticed, except maybe Azriel, but Cassian and Aedion had shared one pretty heated kiss too. 

“Did Rhys just kiss Aelin?” Rowan asked. He looked down at Feyre, his arms crossed. 

“Did Aelin just kiss Rhys?” Feyre argued back. They both rolled their eyes and grumbled. 

“You married him

“You married her

“Yeeah” They both said at the same time, love in their eyes and voices. 

Aelin braced her small hand on Rhys’s chest. “Round two, batsy?” The Heir of Fire grinned and she licked her bottom lip slowly. 

“You’re on, camp fire” The Heir of Night tugged away from her and he fixed his blazer, before turning around. He was ready. 

“Hit it, Aedion!” 

“Let’s do this, Cassian” 

And Rhysand and Aelin started again. Their second song was just as dramatic as their first. 

anonymous asked:

(Mage!Anon) *The ice pillars and arcs weren't enough; so he decides to "detonate" them causing shards of ice flying all over the area sending HYDRA's mooks into panic, and just in case any of them still standing; he commands the tip of his cane to create a tongue of fire... creating what is basically a flaming whip just in case....*

Tony is silently watching, pretty sure that somebody slipped some LSD into his morning coffee, or maybe just weed.

Unearthed and Ultimatums p1

A Swords and Sorcery continuum - Unfinished and unedited

I guess its more of a teaser than anything but i needed to post what i have in order to force myself to get more done. I hope you all like it.


Fires burned eagerly consuming everything in its path.  Thick oily smoke clung to everything, staining pristine white walls black.  An unfortunate shift in the wind encouraged the flames, whipping them into a frenzy all the while redirecting the acrid smoke upon the ones who had lit the fires to begin with.  Screams broke out as the fire reached the next set of people who had been unable to flee.  There in the middle of it all he stood.  He wanted to turn away, to race towards the blaze, to hide, to help, but none of it mattered.  He couldn’t move.  The flames took on a distinctly human form and reached for him and then he was aflame and burning and…

Sabo shot upright, eyes unfocused and unseeing, as the sudden movement disrupted his already precarious balance and he fell from his perch. It was only reflex that managed to save him, twisting his body so that the brunt of the impact was distributed over his forearms, dispersing the shockwave. He rolled over quickly, grasping at his throbbing shoulder. The impact certainly hadn’t helped that particular ache much but it did more to ground him in the present than actually waking up had.

He took a deep breath, the fresh air doing wonders for his awareness. He definitely wasn’t back there, not if the scents of pine and petrichor were anything to go by. Slowly, Sabo sat up taking stock of himself. No injuries from the fall thankfully, and only the mild ache that his shoulder always got after one of those nightmares.

He took another breath, running his hands over his face tiredly. There was no chance in hell that he’d be able to get back to sleep so he might as well get moving. A quick glance at the sun only confirmed that idea. He had a schedule to keep and no night terror would stop him from doing so. With a sigh, Sabo hoisted himself to his feet. Glancing up at the tree that he had spent the night in, he had to groan. Of course his pack was still up there.

It was quick work to get back to the branch that he had been sleeping on and Sabo’s mind wandered while he gathered up his stuff. What had triggered his nightmare this time? There was nothing around that he could think would have caused it. No scents of smoke, ash or gunpowder.  The forest itself was similar in density to the one that he had spent the better years of his childhood in but the flora and fauna were completely different.

It was then that Sabo noticed that the forest was unusually quite. At this time of day, the forest should have hosted a chorus of birdsong, not this unsettling silence.  Even if the nearby birds had been startled by his fairly dramatic and noisy fall to the forest floor, the birds should have returned by now.

They hadn’t and if Sabo strained, he could faintly hear the clash of metal on metal echoing through the forest. That’s interesting Sabo thought as he clamberd back down the tree, taking care not to disturb the foliage any more than he already had.

Indecision seized him the moment he reached the forest floor. He really needed to continue on his way in order to have any chance of catching up to the elusive 2nd division commander of the Whitebeard Spellswords. The man known only as Marco was supposedly checking out a few rumors of an undead plague in a town on the other side of the forest. It was the first solid lead Sabo had had on the man in months. If he went to investigate this fight, he might miss his only chance to talk to the man that had been closest to his brother when Ace disappeared at the Battle of Cards two years ago.

Sabo frowned and took off towards the fight. The entire situation was feeling too much like a coincidence for his liking. The first lead he has in months that will solve the mystery of what the hell happened to his brother leads him to a forest in which two people are having a battle? Coincidence his ass. To many years in his current profession had taught him that there was no such thing.

Again with Glorfindel’s death

I want to add another reason to my previous post as to why Glorfindel’s death sucked. Because his death sucked. Like, really sucked, and not just because he was that close to surviving that duel. Because can we just recognize how thoroughly Glorfindel killed that thing? I’ve heard/read posts and whatnot about this fight, like when a new fan has a question about it, right? Some explain that Glorfindel fought the Balrog and the Balrog fell off a cliff, taking Glorfindel with him. That they both died from the fall when they hit the bottom of the chasm. That Glorfindel drove the Balrog back to the edge of the cliff until it fell, so it was fortunate they were fighting on top of crag and not a field or something. That yes, Glorfindel was an epically skilled warrior, but that the fall off the cliff is what killed the Balrog. But you know what, in Glorfindel’s defense, I want to debunk that. Because that Balrog would have died regardless if it fell or not. And because, mainly, it’s NOT TRUE. In short, that fiery demon was royally screwed. 

For one thing, in the dynamics of that particular fight, Glorfindel was the instigator of that duel, not the Balrog: 


“…that Balrog that was with the rearward foe leapt with great might on certain lofty rocks that stood into the path on the left side upon the lip of the chasm, and thence with a leap of fury he was past Glorfindel’s men and among the women and the sick in front, lashing with his whip of flame. Then Glorfindel leapt forward upon him and his golden armour gleamed strangely in the moon, and he hewed at that demon that it leapt again upon a great boulder and Glorfindel after.”
 

The Balrog didn’t confront Glorfindel. Glorfindel confronted it. And not only that, but the Balrog was actually trying to get away from him. The aggression and fight that Glorfindel faced it with was intense and frightening enough that he forced the Balrog to yield ground, forcing it up higher on the pinnacle. 


“Now there was a deadly combat upon that high rock above the folk; and these, pressed behind and hindered ahead, were grown so close that well nigh all could see, yet it was over ere Glorfindel’s men could leap to his side. The ardour of Glorfindel drave that Balrog from point to point, and his mail fended him from its whip and claw.”
 

So begins the infamous “deadly combat” of this duel on the mountain peak. It was a fast fight as far as such things are measured and everyone could see it as Glorfindel was giving it his all. And his skill and “ardor” were as such that the Balrog was being driven wherever Glorfindel forced him to move, no matter how much whip and claw and who knows what else he was being attacked with. 

(On a side note, could Tolkien have described a more cinematically epic battle? There is a lot of delicious epicness in regards to battles/duels fought in the Silmarillion, but in terms of how an epic showdown is often brought to life on the big screen, I don’t think Tolkien could have gone more out than what he did with Glorfindel; alone on top of a mountain peak, dueling with a fiery monstrosity while everyone’s literally just looking up from below, watching him) 


“Now had he beaten a heavy swinge upon its iron helm, now hewn off the creature’s whip-arm at the elbow.”
 

Not only do we have a head wound, but also an arm amputation, one right after the other. What heathen roar did the Balrog unleash when Glorfindel cut off its arm? Can the refugees of Gondolin who were watching still hear the echoes of it? 


“Then sprang the Balrog in the torment of his pain and fear full at Glorfindel, who stabbed like a dart of a snake; but he found only a shoulder, and was grappled, and they swayed to a fall upon the crag-top.”
 

Okay, so at this point of losing its arm, the Balrog is actually now terrified of this Elf, who apparently could move so fast and deadly that it couldn’t compensate, particularly after the loss of its infamous whip-arm. (Does a Balrog have blood, by the way? Is there anything falling out of its arm? Dripping magma, maybe? Unimportant.) Taking who is who into account, it’s clear that it was Glorfindel who “found only a shoulder” and that he himself “was grappled” in turn. So he manages to take hold of the Balrog again, despite that the demon was springing away from him, and that while he had the Balrog’s shoulder, the Balrog managed to seize him. That’s what “grapple” means, to seize another or each other in a firm grip, like in wrestling where you engage in close quarters. 

So in this stage of the duel, Glorfindel somehow got the Balrog’s shoulder, but it involved somehow seizing it. My theory is that he stabbed his sword deep enough into (or through) the Balrog’s shoulder that the sword caught there, twisting in his grip and causing the demon even more torment and that he couldn’t wrestle the sword free while they “swayed” literally body to body in a vicious wrestling match on top of the pinnacle. It’s plausible this was the case because it’s customary during any fight to stay outside of your enemy’s reach, and so when Glorfindel couldn’t pull his sword free from its shoulder, he found himself now wrestling with the Balrog that his caught sword now brought him in close quarters with. I say this because, as we see in the next verse, his right hand and sword were no longer available. 

And oh man, this next verse…talk about the final nail in the coffin. 


“Then Glorfindel’s left hand sought a dirk, and this he thrust up that it pierced the Balrog’s belly nigh his own face (for that demon was double his stature); and it shrieked, and fell backwards from the rock…”
 

Imagine that, if you will. A dirk is a long thrusting dagger, and Glorfindel shoved this thing so far up the Balrog’s torso that it almost went into his face. From belly to face. Considering that the Balrog was twice the size of Glorfindel, that means Glorfindel most likely had to shove his arm inside the beast in order to keep thrusting the dirk upward and into its head. 

That Balrog didn’t trip over its feet and fall off the cliff. Glorfindel didn’t shove it and just got lucky that the Balrog lost its balance and fell off. That Balrog fell because it could no longer stand. It fell because it could no longer fight. And it was dead before it hit the bottom of the chasm. 


“…and falling clutched Glorfindel’s yellow locks beneath his cap, and those twain fell into the abyss.”
 

And literally, with its last dying breath, the Balrog grabbed Glorfindel’s hair as it was falling and took the Elf with him. 

…. 

Tolkien writes right after that this was “a very grievous thing” and I think I have to agree. Not only because Glorfindel was most dearly beloved by all the people of Gondolin, but because Glorfindel should have survived that duel. He should have lived. While I do wonder what injuries Glorfindel did suffer, if he caught fire and how badly if so, he himself didn’t actually undergo any serious wounds, apparently too fast on his feet for the Balrog to land a fatal blow, and it was only because the demon grabbed his golden hair with its last moments of life that he died. Did I mention his death sucked? 

Good Valar, can you envision just what the people of Gondolin saw when this duel went down? Were they rendered silent as they watched? And you want to tell me that the Balrog died because it fell off the cliff? At this point, it probably would have jumped off the cliff just to get away from Glorfindel. That “shriek” the Balrog let loose when Glorfindel gutted him from navel to nose? Tolkien called it “the death-cry of the Balrog”. I think it’s a testament to the Balrog’s terrible might that it managed to still have the strength to grab hold of Glorfindel’s hair after that. That Balrog didn’t die because it fell: it fell because it died. And it died because Glorfindel killed it. (What does a Balrog’s shriek sound like, by the way? Not its roar or grumble, but a shriek.) Thanks to Glorfindel, it got beaten on the head, lost its whip, lost its arm, lost the use of its shoulder, and Glorfindel “hewed at that demon” so much that the Balrog was actually running away from the Elf. Or tried to, rather, because Glorfindel just kept on his tail, chasing him up the mountain, relentless, giving no quarter, lethal, and undeniably an awesome sight to behold. And then, to top off the three critical wounds Glorfindel dealt the demon, the Balrog was then literally gutted. 

So to reiterate: that Balrog was DEAD. Deader than a doornail in that duel with Glorfindel.

**texts from “The Fall of Gondolin” HoME II.194-5
**EDIT: here’s a link to a brief convo about the thrust of his dirk into the Balrog

minightrose  asked:

Matt looks at Grillbz and sighs. Golden flames start eating away at Grillbz's flames. "Buddy, look at me." He waves his hand in front of Grillbz face.

Grillby snarled. He faced Matt, sure, but it was mostly likely not his words that brought that result. It was probably his blood.
The chains floated around Grillby as if possessed, completely engulfed and controlled by his flames. He jerked his arm forward, using the thick metal as a sort of flaming whip and trying to wrap it around Matt to immobilize him.

Rendezvous

Title: Rendezvous [ff.net] [ao3]

Rating: M (smut)

Word Count: ~2200

Summary: No one said that training to be a member of the Order of the White Lotus would be easy. But then again, there are exceptions to the austere conditions when one is dating the Avatar. Makorra smut.

Author Note: Something light for us all to enjoy. Maybe a late birthday present for selenicsoulmates since we discussed this idea a long while ago.

.

.

Mako grimaced and squinted his eyes against the biting cold wind of the South Pole night. He wasn’t a stranger to the cold by any stretch of the imagination; there had been far too many nights on the streets of Republic City covered by only a soggy piece of cardboard and his brother’s body to keep him warm for him to count. Then again, considering how bad the memories were he had no desire to tally such times up.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Could you write about that one headcannon you had where Gray is uncomfortable with hand holding and pda in general but natsu does want to so they end up fighting. Natsu wins and Gray ends up actually liking it

So, I don’t expect any of you to remember, but when I hit 160 followers I said I’d celebrate by writing the first request that was sent in (I celebrate the most random numbers on my follower count).

Well, this is the request I ended up with. Do you know what I discovered that night? Fight scenes are difficult af to write. I am SOSOSOSO sorry, anon. I got this request 300+ followers ago. I finally finished it. I hope you get to see it!

It’s my first time writing two characters actually fighting, so please go easy on me 😅 (also, if anyone wants to IM me tips on how to do this better, I would love you forever).

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“Ooh! There!” Natsu pointed to a food cart enthusiastically. “Let’s try that one! Come on, Gray.” Natsu laced his warm fingers through the chilly ones of his boyfriend and tugged him forward.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m coming, Flame Brain. You don’t have to tow me along.” Gray tried to pull his hand back, but the grip around his fingers tightened. He held back the sigh that wanted to hiss out of his lips. He knew Natsu loved holding hands and cute little kisses in public and all that romantic crap, but it really wasn’t Gray’s thing.

He was a fairly private person. Beyond that, the stares they got were kind of embarrassing. He didn’t give a shit that people knew he was into guys. It was more the fact that people were analyzing him as a boyfriend when it was none of their damn business.

“I’ll try one of your number 3 combos, extra spicy.” Natsu smiled up at the woman servicing the cart as if she were some goddess. The smile that split across her face was huge. Gray bit his lip. His boyfriend did have a pretty contagious grin.

“And for you, sir?”

“Hmm?” Gray looked up at her. “Oh! A… number 5, thanks.” Gray dropped Natsu’s hand under the pretense of grabbing his wallet. “I’ve got this one.”

Natsu’s face visibly fell. He’d only gotten to hold Gray’s hand for a couple of minutes. He was always doing that. After two or three minutes, without fail, he’d just let his hand slip out of Natsu’s and shove it into his pocket or scratch at the back of his head. Natsu knew he wasn’t the most affectionate person, but damn. Would it kill him to just hold the dragon slayer’s hand?

A pang of guilt stabbed at Gray’s chest and sunk to his stomach at the put out look on his dragon’s face. He quickly looked around to make sure no one was looking before he leaned forward and planted a kiss on Natsu’s cheek. He wasn’t expecting the irritated growl he got in response. ‘Fuck. I’ve pissed him off. Again.’ It was gonna be a quiet meal.

* * * * *

It took Gray over an hour to get Natsu to forgive him.

Unfortunately for the ice mage, he managed to get back into Natsu’s good graces and tick him off again all within a 10 minute span.

“Every time!” Natsu raged. “Every single goddamn time!”

“Natsu, I didn’t mean to let go. My hand got sweaty!”

“You’re so full of shit! You just hate holding my hand when we aren’t alone!”

“Do not! I just –”

Natsu cut him off, “That’s it. Get your ass outside.”

Gray’s train of thought came to a screeching halt. “What? Why?”

“Because we’re gonna fight.” Natsu’s fists clenched.

“Natsu, you’re really mad. What will that even solve?”

“It’s going to solve our problem. If I win, I get to hold your hand whenever I want for as long as I want.”

Gray eyed him curiously. “And if I win?”

“I didn’t think that far. I don’t plan on losing this one. But if you win, by all means, you can set your conditions.”

That left him in a tricky place. He didn’t want anything that would hurt Natsu’s feelings. He considered forfeiting the fight before it started. That is, until he looked around and saw the entire guild watching their little interaction. He could already hear the stupid remarks he’d get for giving up so easily. Fuck that.

“You’re on. Let’s go.” Natsu didn’t need to be told twice, he was already halfway to the door before the last word left his mouth. Gray should not have been surprised that every one in the guild followed them outside to watch.

The fire and ice mages had fought countless times over their lives. Gray had seen Natsu gear up more than usual a handful of times but this was different. He looked focused, pissed off, and determined.

Natsu’s fist ignited and a smile spread across his face. “Ready?”

“Ye– wait. We’re going to use magic?”

“I told you, I don’t plan on losing. That means I’m going all out. I expect the same from you, Ice Princess.”

Gray smiled for the first time since Natsu challenged him. “Bring it on, Ash Brains!” His fist met his open palm by his left hip. “But don’t expect me to go easy on you just because –” he looked up from the position his fingers had taken to find Natsu full on charging at him.

“Fire dragon iron fist!” He hit Gray square in the chest, sending the ice mage hurling backwards.

‘Shit, that hurt. He wasn’t kidding about going all out.’

Scrambling back to his feet, Gray launched his freeze lancers at the fire wizard. The smug grin on Natsu’s face was downright irritating. The dragon slayer raised his hand, a rope of fire forming in his grasp.

“The fuck is he…”

He started swinging his arm in a circular motion Gray could have sworn he’d seen before. “Way to go, Natsu!” Lucy cheered as his fire clashed with spearheads of ice, sending them flying to the side or outright destroying them.

That’s where he’d seen it! With Lucy’s fleuve d'étoiles… he was using his flames like a whip!

Gritting his teeth, Gray shifted his stance before Natsu could wipeout the last of his attack.

“Ice make cannon!”

He couldn’t help the satisfaction that warmed his chest when his ice pelted into Natsu’s torso and knocked the wind out of him. The fire wizard looked up at him with a shit eating grin.

“Ice make impact!”

Natsu barely managed to roll to the side before the ice came slamming down with a thunderous crash. Gray launched attack after attack as Natsu ran back his way. The dragon slayer dodged almost all of them, only to have Gray’s saucer smash into his rib. The devil slayer was not surprised when Natsu pushed through it without even flinching.

“Fire dragon talon! Claw! Crushing fang!”

'Those are gonna fucking bruise.’

“Ice make –”

“Fire dragon ROAR!”

The ice devil’s dark blue eyes widened in a moment of panic and he changed form, “shield!” He threw the barrier up just in time and watched as flames blew around the sides and continued behind him.

They were so much hotter than usual; fire born of Natsu’s determination and passion never failed to impress.

He could feel his shield starting to give way. Steam hissed all around him as the ice began to melt. Gray heard the slayer sprinting over. Natsu leapt on him, taking advantage of the smoke and fog of steam to rain punches down on the dark haired man.

Gray blindly swung back, only landing a few hits of his own before Natsu pinned his hands down.

The fog cleared, the smoke rolled out, and all Gray could see was a bruised up fire mage beaming down at him. “I win.” He breathed, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

Despite his exhaustion, Gray’s pride screamed at him that the fight wasn’t over, that he could get back up and keep going. But if Natsu won and it made him happy, what did Gray really even lose?

“Yeah, yeah, don’t let it get to your head, Ashes.”

Natsu released his hold on Gray’s wrists and threaded their fingers together. “Too late.” He murmured before pressing his lips to his boyfriend’s.

The kiss was just as intense as the fight and soon Gray’s head was swimming enough that he was able to ignore the cheers and wolf whistles that would have had him pulling away otherwise. He could get used to this for Natsu’s sake. He’d move freaking mountains if it meant the dragon slayer could be happy.

* * * * *

“Che, grabbing my hand again,” Gray scoffed when warm fingers slipped through his own, “we’re only going to be walking for 5 minutes, Flame Brain.”

Natsu stuck his tongue out at him, “You like it.”

He did. He loved it. It was rare these days to not see the two men holding hands as they walked around town or sat in the guild. His palms were now accustomed to the warm presence Natsu provided, and he would never tell him this, but when it was gone, he missed it, even if it only lasted a few moments before it was back again.

“Tch.” Natsu had turned him into such a sap. And he didn’t mind one bit.

christmas ficlet

She squeezes the middle of the pointy paper cup as she ekes water from the dispenser, wipes a bit of eggnog from the corner of her mouth.  She’s had a bit more than she intended, but what the hell, it’s Christmas. It’s her third year working with Mulder and the first she’s managed to drag him up from the basement on December 20th to eat mass-produced sugar cookies and listen to Jingle Bell Rock like a good co-worker.  They’ve been on opposite sides of the room all night, mingling, as she prescribed – near demanded - they do, making friends, being team players, being regular people for a half hour, an hour tops.

But she finds the party charming – the effort of it all, the playlists and saran-wrapped homemade brownies coated in powdered sugar – so it’s nearly two hours before she finally starts to make her way out of the room.  She looks for Mulder, spots him about to cross through the center of the room, and makes her way to let him know she’s going.  They may not have spent time together here, but she knows he’s been aware of her, thinking of her as a security blanket as he unwraps red and white candies.  Leaving him here alone would be worse than leaving him alone with a man-eating worm, worse than abandoning him on Mars.

The first thing she notices is that Mulder has been grinning as she gives the simple information of her departure.  He’s been looking around the room, rubbing his chin between his forefinger and thumb. People are staring at them with loose-jawed, liquored up smiles, a couple of them hollering and chanting at them like it’s a football game.  Mulder looks at her, then glances up, taking her on a ride as he shares what he’s already learned.  She half-expects to see a UFO when she follows his gaze.   But it’s something far worse - a mistletoe.

He shrugs at her as if by way of apology and then leans forward, grabbing her bicep lightly and pecking her on the cheek.  Their spectators groan, disappointed.  In the moment, she’s angry with them for having fun at her expense, but in later years, she’ll have compassion.  She was their chance to have something to talk about at next year’s party.  She was their cheap thrill.  She was one-half the office’s golden couple who weren’t a couple.

But she doesn’t understand any of that yet, so she scratches behind her ear, feels herself blush in anger and embarrassment and embarrassment at feeling angry.   She nods and smiles at everyone, trying to make the moment pass with her nonchalant disdain, a chemistry of human expression she’s mastered better than anyone this past few years.  Mulder bites his smiling bottom lip - his version of blushing - and she thinks of the partridges in the pear tree.  They are trapped here, in this cage of expectation.  

Well, anyway, it’s Christmas.  So she takes him by the tie – a red silk one, the gift she gave him last year, she notices for the first time today.  She expects him to be surprised, maybe even repulsed, but he seems as though he’s been waiting for her as his hands come to her waist, his fingers spreading from floating ribs to grounded, solid hips, his middle ones following the indentation of her body like the perfectly tailored suit she doesn’t own.

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