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Another sketch of the Destroyer and a doodle of a young Fire.
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My half of an art trade with may12324. Masquerade Fire and Brigan! I had some fun with their outfits. And I wanted them to coordinate somehow so I put them in greens and blues and golds just for fun. And I gave Fire some fancy false fingers. I’m not sure which fingers she lost in the book, so I’m sorry if they’re wrong.
Anyway, hope you like it!!
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Fire.
I think my original plan for this drawing was that she looked like some kind of goddess? I can’t remember.This has been sitting unfinished in my folder for months (I think I started it in November??). I’ve been slowly working on it the past few weeks. Don’t know why it’s taken me so long to finish it…
Commissions are open.
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Fire: By Kristin Cashore
Some people had too much power and too much cruelty to live. Some people were too horrible, no matter if you loved them; no matter that you had to make yourself terrible too, in order to stop them. Some things just had to be done.
I forgive myself, thought Fire. Today, I forgive myself
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“I know you don’t want this, Katsa. But I can’t help myself. The moment you came barreling into my life I was lost. I’m afraid to tell you what I wish for, for fear you’ll… oh, I don’t know, throw me into the fire. Or more likely, refuse me. Or worst of all, despise me,” he said, his voice breaking and his eyes dropping from her face. His face dropping into his hands. "I love you,” he said. “You’re more dear to my heart than I ever knew anyone could be. And I’ve made you cry; and there I’ll stop.”
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Outside, the trees were green with spring’s end and the sun thawed the world, but inside this cave was always a cold season. They sat on the sand and huddled against each other to keep warm; and shivering led to playful pushing, and pushing to roughhousing, and before too long they were laughing and wrestling full tilt on the ground, their wet hair and clothing full of sand. Finally, pinned against her, Po whispered his surrender, running his hand along the back of her leg in a manner that was distinctly uncombative. And the wrestling turned to something slow and gentle and yielding, and they were warm, and occupied with each other, for some time.
Katsa and Po commission for me by the wonderful deathmetals! She’s doing a Valentine’s Day special from now until Feb. 20 and is an amazing artist and super lovely, 10/10 would recommend.
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“But that’s how memory works," Bitterblue said quietly. "Things disappear without your permission, then come back again without your permission." And sometimes they came back incomplete and warped.
There was an aspect of memory that Bitterblue had been trying to come to terms with lately, one so hurtful that she had not managed yet to face it full on. Her memories of Ashen were a series of snippets. Many of them were moments that had transpired in Leck’s presence, which meant that Bitterblue had not even been in her right mind. When they’d been without Leck, they’d spent much of that time fighting Leck’s brain fog away. Leck hadn’t just stolen Ashen from Bitterblue by killing her. He’d stolen her before that, as well. Bitterblue could not imagine the person Ashen would be today, were she alive. It was not fair that she should find herself doubting, at times, how well she’d ever known her mother.