#// fire enjoyer

[kastillia]

just a boy and his birds

[ls-tbl]

When your parents hate you but its ok because you hate yourself more

In honor of me buying and reading the winter turning graphic novel 🎉 tried sticking with mike holmes winter design a little bit but i decided to very vaguely implement clown design (face completely white with pattern under eye)(bc he gets clowned on!!)(he does not deserve the treatment he gets) this guy deserves better he was properly screwed over at ever turn man💔

[buttered-toasty]

Ignore the half-assed background, it’s not actually supposed to Be the background, I just wanted to post this in case I never finish the second half (maglor)

I have thoughts about them. Many thoughts.

[novembermorgon]

NEVER trust a mf that associates with ULF WHITE she will show up at court when the war is over going this is my valyrian baby that can hang out with the other miserable babies running around and the valyrian baby in question is a random blonde kid she picked up off the side of the road . gaemon palehair did it better i fear.

[waokevale]

Starvetober Day 4 – Fire

Some things never change, in fact, they get worse :)

[aquaquadrant]

Title: flickering

Warnings: Hearing voices similar to intrusive thoughts (the voices are from sentient fire, not from the character’s own mind), pyromania, session 3 spoilers

~*~

Tango might be hearing things.

That is, beyond what the rest of his friends have already been joking about this entire session. The secret task bestowed upon him seemed like pure hilarity at first: pretend to have an imaginary friend. And he had to go all out, too, having imaginary conversations in the presence of other people. He wasn’t confident enough in his improv skills to pull it off without some kind of prop, though, so he’d assigned the role of imaginary friend to a torch in his inventory.

Torchy, a new best friend for the resident blaze hybrid on the server. Hilarious.

Except, as the hours went on… carrying Torchy around and randomly placing it down… hosting one-sided conversations with a piece of burning wood while his friends watched on with baffled amusement… it started to get a little less hilarious. Because he started to imagine that he could actually hear Torchy talking back to him.

Looks bad. Burn it. Kill him.

Just pleasant little things like that. It made for great conversation fodder; nothing turned heads on this server faster than a randomly overheard, “No, no, we can’t kill him!” And it was funny to carry on that kind of dialogue, chastising a flaming stick for its apparent bloodlust. The looks on his friends’ faces were priceless.

But at the end of the session, after Tango had been found out and failed his task, after everyone bid their farewells and went their separate ways to end the session… he hears it again; a flickering whisper of a voice in his ears.

Burn it.

It startles Tango so badly, his blaze rods ignite. “Aaagh- who? What?!” He spins around, flames spitting.

“Huh?” Skizz pokes his head up from behind their little clump of chests, his wing flared out in surprise. “What happened?”

Tango clutches his pounding heart. “Did you- did you say something, Skizz?” he asks breathlessly.

“What, just now? No?” Skizz frowns, then his eyes widen. “Oh, wait, I get it…” He chuckles. “Very funny dude, but uh, you can drop the ‘imaginary friend’ thing now.”

Burn him. Kill him.

There it is again. “No, I’m not…” Tango hesitates, glancing around warily. “You seriously can’t hear that?”

Join us. Burn it. Eat it all.

Now Skizz looks a little concerned, rising to his feet. “Uh- no? What?” He takes a few steps towards Tango, holding out a hand. “You okay, buddy?”

Tango rakes his claws through his hair. “Th- the whispering, the…” Swallowing, he creeps a bit closer to Skizz- and as he does so, he happens to move closer to a random torch. The voice gets louder.

Free us. Join us. Let it all burn.

There’s a chunk of solid ice in Tango’s stomach. “I think it’s coming from the torches,” he whispers.

Skizz stares at him for a moment before he sighs bemusedly, shaking his head. “Oh, brother. You’ve been talking to yourself all session, dude, I think you’re starting to hear things.” He claps a hand on Tango’s shoulder. “Get some rest, buddy, and I’ll see you back here next week, alright?”

Skizz doesn’t hear it. Tango makes himself laugh. “Right, yeah. You’re right. See ya.”

With a parting smile, Skizz logs off.

Tango waits. Soon enough, the voice returns. The whispering is now a chant, a dull roar echoing in his skull.

He’s gone. Burn it. Burn it all. Sets us free, let us spread. Join us. Burn it. Eat it all.

Tango’s heart is in his throat. He can see it, in his mind’s eye; the soft pink cherry blossoms engulfed in flame, a ring of smoke outlining the entire island… his inner fire thrums with want, with need.

Yes, yes, burn it all…

The smell of burning snaps him out of his trance. His clawed fingertips are pinching a cherry blossom from a low-hanging branch, a trail of smoke rising between them. Wait, when did he walk over to the tree? Quickly plucking the flower, he incinerates it in his clenched fist, the flame extinguished as soon as it’d ignited.

And now he’s got a handful of ash. Great.

Okay, that’s it- he’s gotta get off this crazy server. It’s all these stupid tasks! They’re totally messing with his head. The secrecy, the deception, the mind games- he just needs a break. He needs to go back to something familiar, some place where things make sense.

Tapping his communicator, he brings up a portal.

Tango steps through it into Hermitcraft, into blue flames and his dungeon master’s robes. He blinks, acclimating to the change of light. He’s in the underbelly of Decked Out 2, of course- most of his time this week has been spent working on the redstone for level four. And over the months, he’s taken care to light everything up (because a single creeper in the skadoodler could derail his entire operation here) so there are torches everywhere…

And he hears nothing.

Just the idle sounds of the dungeon above him. The occasional warden sniff or ravager growl, bats squeaking in the dark. A slime slapping against stone somewhere in the distance. He can even hear the ambient flickering of the countless torches around him, but no freaky voices accompany it.

Tango exhales heavily. It was just the Secret Life server messing with his head, after all. Relieved, he ignites a rocket to take off, whirling through the air in the tight hair-pin turns required to escape from the dungeon’s inner workings. He swoops into his storage room and dives into the bubble-vator, arriving swiftly back in the citadel.

Hopping off the platform and into the air, Tango glides toward his private entrance to the lobby. He needs to go cover up the barrel at the start so he can make a couple changes to the dungeon. Nothing major, maybe just an extra warden or two. Ideas for names are already flashing through his mind. Debating whether to go intimidating or silly, he’s so deep in thought as he passes through the lobby that he almost doesn’t notice it at first. But as he walks past the soul flames, he hears it.

The flicker of a familiar voice- though more haunting, now, almost mournful- whispering in his ears.

Join us. Burn them. Eat them all.

~*~

[thomwelling]

SMALLVILLE (2001-2011) 2.02, “Heat” Love is rarely, if ever, logical. Maybe they just have the right pheromones.

[very-clever-name]

the smelliest man you've ever seen

[s3znl-gr3znl]

Gf: babe please!!! Speak to me!! Say something!!

Me: hnnnnngggg bing robon gaem

[murmel-malt]

[sweetmilkbread]

'All Dead Girl Shows begin with the discovery of the murdered body of a young woman. The series’ lead characters are attempting to solve the (often impossibly complicated) mystery of who killed her. As such, the Dead Girl is not a “character” in the show, but rather, the memory of her is.'

Toward a Theory of a Dead Girl Show - Alice Bolin

[ser-zoras]

if Jon was cats biological son he would still be her least favorite child because hes the most like her send post

[princeandreis]

relistening to taz balance and this is all I can picture when they talk about the phoenix fire gauntlet

[exfil]

isn't it crazy that twice in mwii, both in las almas (you'll need to improvise to survive) and in chicago (like good old times, eh LT?) - at central moments of the story no less - soap is left without weapons (you'll need to improvise to survive). having to fight himself out of a hopeless situation with his bare hands and ingenuity (welcome to guerilla warfare).

and both times, there is ghost in his ear telling him what to do (look for supplies- things you can make tools with), guiding him (i just need a weapon - make one), encouraging him (that's the way, johnny) praising him (a man after my own heart), all to ensure that he makes it through.

twice, soap is left without weapons or training to fall back onto. and twice, he survives anyway. because he has ghost. (be smart with what you've got. that's the trick...)

[prince-sawgrass]

Axolotl, they’re an allwing oc for an rp with some friends :D

[angelhummel]

my most persistent toxic trait is that i wholeheartedly unironically think glee is a good show