#Burn That City to the Ground

[crmsnmth]

You Figure It Out

He steps within the city limits wearing all black And everything he carries fits in a dirty back pack He's been here before and he swore he would return Swore to everyone they'd get what they earned With teeth stained yellow from cigarette smoke He smiles knowing this is the end of the joke

He walks along streets to his old neighborhood A plays where he was never really understood The outcasts of outcasts, the freak of the freaks Considered broken, considered quiet, considered meek Left in isolation and solitude for far too long And even while he was elsewhere he was never really gone

He stand silently in front an apartment door He couldn't bring himself knock, his confidence so poor And so he left the smiling memory behind All the same images he constantly plays in his mind She doesn't even live here anymore anyway

Every street is cracked and the flowers are all dead The sidewalks have scars from where they were cut and bled The verins of the broken sleep in the dirty alley Just another day in this sarcastic, pretentious valley He looks at the places where once played it cool But at the end of it all, he was still judged a worthless fool The broken shelf to hold such broken tools

He stops breifly at a bench at the highest hill in the park A place he sat a saw galaxies flash in the late night dark And he walks on, letting the memory slide back into his mind This isn't the place, this isn't the time He hurries now, he shouldn't be burning up is minutes You saw the birth, now witness the death of a cynic

He stands outside the apartment he shared two others Not one of them friends none of them brothers It starts here as he shuffles through his bag Fuel, matches and a shredded black flag He let the belief die when he saw what the scene had become Dogboy and the clique ruled over everyone And he was led to believe in no gods no maters

And pretty soon he hears the sirens scream and he watches by the door so nochalant it seems Now there's one last thing he's got to do And it all fails here if he can't pull through He does the last of his beer in quick pulls Back into the sun, back onto the roads

In front of the house he shared with the girl of shattered glass He sits own on the sidewalk and touches the grass He stares at the front door, daring it to open and he would step out Trying to escape but not knowing what it was about And everytime I tried to free myself from the mental warfare I can't back with my head down, right into my black widow's lair

It's here that he words the last few things out of the pack a clip with two bullets, and he shouldn't need anymore then that the note sits in his back pack of green canvas stitch He can see her pretending on the second floor to be a witch Maybe it was true because he feels as if he is cursed Those last few minutes always seem the worst

Eyes closed he begins the countdown frint ten He never thought He'd every be here again The safety's off the fingers in its spot and then just a sudden final POP!

[pussysidon]

"she's becoming a dictator" god forbid lesbians do anything

[revvethasmythh]

in my mind i just imagine the actual real life toxic yuri leylas kryn and lolth could be experiencing in the future

[literallyjusttoa]

Left this abandoned in the drafts (which is a bit ironic) but it's a spin on this post, where instead of Apollo just being locked in some room on Olympus somewhere, he's bound to the ruins of an abandoned Ancient Greek city. Maybe somewhere near Delphi, maybe Troy, idk.

[weirdoonskateboard]

I got a commission from comic artist Stephanie Mided AKA Noctart of Lucia from GTA 6 dressed as King from King of Fighters

Go check out her artwork and her comic Club Kick Out. She's so talented and her work deserves more love.

https://www.instagram.com/noctart?igsh=aWphMGk4ZWxzbzh3

Her art

Her Book

Her Ko-fi

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

literally no one was doing it like natsuno yuuki. he was genre savvy but he was also fucking gay so he still died. after his death he started dressing like the google search results for gay vampire. his only friends were his homoerotic bestie, an adult medical professional speed running his descent into madness, and two random kids he dug up his stalker’s grave with. he became a vampire and was immediately better at it than all of the other vampires but he thought they were bitches so he didn’t even tell them he turned. his last words was that he was never going to make it out of that town alive but if anyone could have it was him and that’s what makes him so tragic. he died trying to save someone who was never ever going to save him back. he wasn’t afraid to die because he was already dead. he burned the entire town to the ground mourning his own death and he didn’t do it to save a single goddamn person, he did it because they murdered him and he was going to fucking hurt them back for it. I’m obsessed with him

[3416]

okay none of this is coherent bc i'm on the verge of sleep at 9pm rn but that right hand man as dog post literally has my gears turning bc that's mitch fucking marner bro. that's mitch and there are so many levels to it. mitch who has made his whole career being the assist guy... takes pride in the fact that he can help the team even if that results in his point accumulation seeming lesser bc they're not goals. taking advantage of the skills and iq he possesses to try to make the people around him better and literally set them up for success...always the first one there to congratulate them on it too.... literally naming his whole foundation the marner assist foundation bc he embraces that role on a team with a generational goal scorer who's made it clear he wants to play with MITCH and appreciates mitch's talent and communication. like. actually his right winger... his right hand man. okay and even happy with being the second best, as he's been for large portions of his life w an older bro who's good at everything right on into a stacked draft class.

and mitch personality wise gets the dog description sometimes too. loyal, happy go lucky, wants to be around his guys all the time, and it's where he's the happiest and thrives the most. he's energetic, he's buzzin, he's willing to entertain, he's the life and love in that room in so many ways that are loud.... that bark but don't necessarily bite (THOUGH THEY CAN BITE. criticism can be doled out and taken as long as it's from the right places with him) but like. especially when he was younger too, he was literally the team emotional support puppy who loved cuddles and attention and with age comes protection from the outside a little bit..,. dialing back what he's willing to show or admit to people on the outside but it's still there and what keeps the camaraderie alive despite an ever rotating roster. and i kNOW. i know. so much dog imagery and symbolism has to do with being protective and fierce, and in hockey for mitch that doesn't necessarily translate on the ice the same way bc he's not big and rough and physically forward the way some people wish he was, but he probably would take a bullet for most of those guys. and in ways, he has taken on the shield or become the punching bag... he was with babcock, he's taken on the scapegoat with media so a lot of critique is thrown squarely at him for group failure. he's the martyr even if that's not exactly what he signed up for.

he's grown more guarded but he's LITERALLY. literally. a dog. a dawg. auston's dawg.... their dawg. the epitome of lots of good things about hockey culture (and i'm sure some bad too), but he embodies so much of the loyalty.. the side kick.. the best friend energy in some ways.... it makes me emo. and....... and to think of him with his own dog trying to recreate unbridled joy from his childhood (cut to those pics of him as a kid w his chocolate lab vs him now w zeus).... like he's desperate for love and recognition of his loyalty and companionship. he's gotten used to being second fiddle, not necessarily in any resentful way but like. these past few weeks he's kind of gotten to step up and be the guy™. he's the heartbeat...... the dog's not usually meant to be the main character but maybe he is worthy of it.

[noisyghost]

i would give anything to go back and do it all over again

[discordiansamba]

thinking about the bad end variation of the lee from the tea shop au again. thinking about how iroh has long since resigned himself to the fact that his nephew is likely dead. he held out hope for as long as he could, but he is certain that if his nephew were alive, someone would have found him by now. azula likely knows what happened to him, but she refuses to talk.

then he receives a letter from sokka, telling him to come to ba sing se.

iroh makes the trek. he does not know what to expect when he gets there. what he gets is a grim-faced sokka, holding a pair of logbooks. he tells him he's found a lead on zuko, and that he needs to read this. he warns him that it's not going to be an easy read- and that he's sorry.

he's right. they are not an easy read.

iroh is an old man now. he was old when he took the throne, but he is older still now. but reading the logbook still stokes a fire in the old man's heart- a simmering rage that makes him want to return to his old ways as a general and burn this wretched city to the ground.

he does not do that, of course.

"the person who did this is dead," sokka says, "-if that's any comfort."

it is not. iroh would have liked to do it himself.

"...i know where to find him," sokka also tells him, "-if you... if you want to meet lee."

iroh does. very much so. sokka directs him to a tea shop called the lotus blossom, in the middle ring. lee runs it. iroh removes his crown headpiece and dons humble robes of earth kingdom brown, styling his hair in earth kingdom fashion. it is enough to disguise him. the tea shop is a modest one- not as fancy as the jasmine dragon had been, but certainly an improvement over pao's.

he is greeted by a young woman with braided hair and a sleeping infant swaddled on her back and is guided to a seat. he asks for the owner's favorite blend- and one of these scrumptious looking fruit tarts, if you do not mind. she returns with them, and iroh drinks deep the scent of jasmine tea.

he always hoped zuko would drink more of it.

there are two young girls sitting at an empty table near him. the eldest is reading a book. the younger is kicking her feet impatiently. iroh can see the fire nation in them, plain as day- as well as in the sleeping infant. he asks the young woman if he might have a chance to speak to the owner. the tea is delicious. he would like to pay his compliments.

she smiles, and tells him she'll fetch her husband right away.

iroh tries very hard not to stare when his nephew emerges from the kitchen. he wears his hair long and braided, concealing his scar with his bangs. he wears the green robes of an earth kingdom man of modest income, and a starched white apron over that. he is taller than he remembers, and carries himself in a different manner entirely.

"dad!" the youngest of the two girls rushes him. "i'm bored. can I go play with my friends?"

his nephew laughs and ruffles her hair. he tells her she can, and asks the eldest- izumi- if she doesn't mind walking her to her friend's place. izumi sighs, but she soon leaves with her younger sister, holding her hand. iroh would place them at around ten and six, if he had to guess.

his nephew greets him with a smile. there is no recognition in his eyes. iroh had anticipated it, but it still hits him like a hard blow. he shows none of this on his face, instead complimenting him on his tea. his nephew thanks him, but is soon pulled away by another customer. iroh watches him out of the corner of his eye.

...it's true. his nephew is a different person now.

but he is alive. he is alive, and he is happy. he has his own family. a successful tea shop. given how long he has resigned himself to zuko being dead, this seems a kinder outcome. iroh lingers in the lotus blossom until closing, simply watching his nephew. he contemplates his next step. sokka has told z- lee the truth, so he could reveal himself.

he could also leave without saying anything.

his nephew has a happy life here. does he really have the right to complicate it even further? and yet... iroh cannot help himself. he has mourned zuko many times over these past two decades. he must speak with lee, or he does not think he can ever let zuko rest.

he lingers past closing time. he knows it is rude behavior, but lee is patient in a way zuko never was. once he is the last person left in the store, iroh stands up and asks lee if he might speak with him again. he removes the five-pronged crown from where he has hidden it, and slides it into his top knot.

"i am told," iroh says, "-that this is where I might find the man who was once my nephew."

[agathaharknes]

Who is petting and feeding Señor Scratchy whilst Agatha and Co are gallivanting across the Witches' Road? Did he even survive the attack? Who's taking care of our bestest boy??

[lemonhemlock]

Teenager daenerys sold as a child bride “owned” the slaves that her husband gave her… ok…

She made mistakes in her breaking of the slave trade, but her “profit” from the tax on those selling themselves back into slavery is not used for her own gain, so it’s not really a profit… she is not perfect

Daenerys’s hate of slavery is not just sometjing to make the audience like her, it is an intrinsic part of her storyline and the plot of asoiaf as a whole

when will dany stans acknowledge the intersection of gender, race and class, as well as the intersection of oppression? yes, daenerys was sold as a child bride. yes, daenerys owned slaves. did she have a choice in either matter? no. did she benefit nonetheless from the slaves she did not want to own? yes. is the entire blame for the system of slavery and abusive practices that upheld her khalasar to be placed on the shoulders of a 13-year-old girl? no. should she be criticised for taking power forcefully in slavers' bay and then not bothering to learn how to govern properly and ensure a peaceful transition to a slavery-free society? yes.

is this an important puzzle piece that could help us understand how daenerys will soon react to opposition in westeros, aka when the going gets tough instead of relying on negotiations & compromises & power-sharing i shall fall back on my fire-breathing monsters, squash my enemies violently and 'burn cities to the ground'? also yes.

it's like..... you're almost there.

can you for real stop for one minute and ask yourself why you are so willing to shill for someone whose solution (to the political problems she creates for herself) is violence? i don't understand this aversion to any kind of democratic element being introduced in westeros that might curtail the sovereign's power (or the power other feudal lords have over people). have you ever considered that westeros doesn't even have a parliamentary body? do you imagine daenerys will pull a john lackland when she arrives? does she really strike you as the power-sharing type?

think for a moment of the logistics of dany even getting to westeros in the first place with only two more books to go. homegirl has to sail soon for any of that to happen. there will be no time for her to grow into this wise political theorist you imagine her to be, she has to be gone NOW. which means she has or will have to have the personality of someone who doesn't REALLY care all that much about solving the political unrest she created. there will have to be a moment in the winds of winter when she goes "fuck it!" and decides to claim her "birthright".

and this is not to say that slavery never mattered to her as a concept or that she doesn't truly, deep down, think it's wrong, only that she will rationalize her selfish desires into convincing herself she has done all she can and thus wash her hands of this business. why? from a doylist perspective, because the plot requires it to happen NOW. from a watsonian perspective, because politicking is too difficult, it's too boring and she doesn't like it. "dragons plant no trees". dany is good at conquering, not at governing.

[evilfloralfoolery]

Please enjoy this little bit of snzfuckery between Indigo's incredibly attractive parents, Astralis and Aurora. It's some gross courtly bullshit and I love it.

___________________________

“My lord, I can assure you that this lapse in judgment shall not happen again.” 

Even from her vantage point behind the hedges, the guard’s fear is palpable.  As it should be.  Her beloved is as stern as he is imposing, seeming to tower over all who cross his path, regardless of their true height.  Clad in crimson silk and fine etched leather, Astralis is both elegant and terrifying.

Precisely why she had chosen him.  Or rather, why they had chosen each other.

“See to it that you do not disappoint me again.”  The dark propriety of his voice is a resonant purr of sound that does not rely on volume to convey the threat. 

“Y-yes, my lord.”

Astralis waves a hand.  “Away with you, then.” 

The guard bows, retreating with a backward step until he feels it is proper to turn his back and hurry along on his way. 

A wise decision, clearly.

Astralis executes a sharp turn on his heel, his impressive length of ebony hair sliding over one shoulder and spilling down the length of his back like a living thing, obedient to the whims of its master. Although she cannot hear just what her husband is muttering to himself, it is certainly not pleasant.  

Fire flashes in his palm, brilliant and stark against the green of the hedges, and he incinerates a hapless, wayward branch into nothingness, his booted foot dispersing the ashen embers with a fluid step. It is, however, the rosebush that receives the withering, contemptuous sneer.

“Wretched and treacherous beauty,” he grumbles. “I would destroy you all, if I were able.” 

He stiffens to a halt beside the gate, his posture rigid but for a moment.

Surely he cannot see her, not with the hedges in unpruned proliferation around her. It matters not, for all she cares to witness is his most certain downfall.

And he does not disappoint.

His austere demeanor falters, the immovable facade cracking into a flash of annoyance and a sharp, singular hitch of breath. 

“--AHESSSCHuh! EHSHHHuh! ESSHH! ESSCH! EKSSSH!!”

He doesn't not bother with the handkerchief, perhaps because the urgency of the matter is greater than he anticipated. Instead, he barely manages to steeple his hands over his mouth and nose, each sneeze a greater shoulder-shuddering, body-curling event, as if his capacity to release it is somehow inadequate.

Astralis straightens with a pointed, indecent sniffle and brushes a length of displaced hair aside.  “If you do not believe yourself to be visible to me, Aurora, you are mistaken.” 

She huffs a short sigh and resists the urge to roll her eyes. 

Infuriating man.

“Perhaps,” she says as she emerges from the hedge canopy, “I was allowing you privacy for your struggles.”

A smirk curves one side of his mouth. “Is that so?”

His smug expression wavers and this time, he conjures the aforementioned handkerchief with a snap of his fingers.

“AESSSHuh! EHSSH! EKSSH!! Gods.”

Her hand lights upon his arm, smile gentling. “Bless you, love.” 

“Thank you,” he says with a sharp sniffle. “Blasted topiary maintenance. I should install an iron fence instea-hhh…!” His breath heaves and he leans away from her.”--hhuhEKSSSCHU!!” 

“Bless you!” She repeats a bit more emphatically than necessary. Her hands slide to cup his face, threads of his silken hair cool and smooth against her fingers. “Nature is so cruel to you.” 

He chuckles. “I believe it was my wife who ordered the planting of this entire fiasco.” 

“Well,” she says. “She must be quite insensitive to your suffering.” 

“Hmm, indeed.” His hands close up on her upper arms and he jerks her against his chest, “Were she not so stunning amongst the greenery, I would burn it to ash.” 

Aurora runs her finger along the straight slope of his nose, pausing to tap the tip. “Flattery is a wise man’s tool.” 

He summons an obligatory flinch at the intrusion of her touch, gathering her into his embrace.  “Sincerity is a tool far greater.”

It is only with Aurora that the sharpness of his gaze softens to warm, copper honey, his fortress of impenetrable emotional detachment conquered.

“Depart with me now before I am defeated by the whims of my own traitorous body.”  A smirk curves one side of his mouth. “Unless that is your plan, my love.” 

Aurora feigns aghast indignation. “I would never dream of such a thing.”

[odessastone]

on the topic of my "Illari gets recruited by Talon" theory, today I got a kill streak on her and she says "I've done worse, and I'll DO worse."

Doesn't sound like a very heroic thing to say lol

[inkperch]

I really, really wish you could recruit Seteth in a Crimson Flowers route-

Like. At the point where you spare him, when the writing on the wall is clear, he strikes a deal (assuming Flayn is still alive) that he'll fight by your side as long as you let Flayn get as far away as possible from the fighting. (Maybe even have 'sparing Claude' as a requirement, you call on his favour to send her to Almyra under the protection of their prince.)

Meanwhile Seteth has the ulterior motive of trying to negotiate a terms of surrender for Rhea... Only to slowly come to terms with the fact that, in Crimson Flowers, his sister has Absolutely Lost It(tm), and won't take any 'surrender' short of tearing out Byleth's heart, and El's head-

Give him some unique, CF only varients on his Supports, let someone who genuinely cares for Rhea side against her and challenge El's stances, let him call out Hubie on not standing up to El and just quietly cleaning up after her from the shadows (in a way that is definitely not him projecting as he watches his sister go insane to a degree that seals her own fate from him similarly not challenging her as much as he should've), give him an angsty ass unique interaction where he pleads with Rhea to see that she can't win against El and Byleth, but she can survive, but she doesn't even care about her own survival at this point she just wants those two dead-

I just think it would be neat.

[july-19th-club]

oj haywood from nope was such a great character and the thing is that he also isnt a *character* in the made-up sense at all he is to a T the exact personality i've known in every slightly reclusive farmer in my life, most of whom are related to me. from his hat to his boots to the way he talks like he's carefully considering whether anything would be worth the effort to say out loud to the old farmhouse he lives in with all his most recently passed relatives' furniture in it . obviously there are some discrepancies to be allowed for with regards to a) he is a Black cowboy which is its own thing and b) he is in a scifi movie so he deals with wackier stuff than your average one of those guys. but it was a great movie to watch for the 'i know that guy' factor . i know like fifteen of that guy

[ghost-proofbaby]

i’m sorry but can we talk about how fucking devastating it is to hear it repeatedly said in the game how godey and cazador found astarion’s screams to be the “sweetest”?

the way he was the one who always screamed the loudest. when he was being tortured for days in the kennel by godey. when cazador was carving the runes into his back. centuries, and no one ever helped him or saved him. for centuries, he was screaming and begging for mercy, and it only egged his abuser on more.

no wonder he disapproves more when you repeatedly help and save people. repeatedly, he has to watch you save all these people, knowing no one ever saved him.

yes, i’m actively sobbing over a video game character. i want something more painful than just death for cazador.