#burntmartyr

[sithshadow-a-blog]

Behold my creation

[dathomirborn]

@@@ !

for every @ I get, I have to tag someone I love/look up to!

@burntmartyr

bella and I haven’t actually written together in forever but you KNOW she’s still one of my favorite people. I went from sending an ask to her in 2015 calling her “broski” to regularly calling her “fucker” on skype. truly a friendship for the ages.

@spacepiratemaz / @surviveinspace

I’ve always really looked up to gem and her writing!!! it just has so much personality no matter who she’s playing and I love it a lot <3

@demandpeace

haley plays such a good satine!! I love her style and the overall impression she gives of her. I hope we can write together more in the future!

[eleutheriana-archive]

EPIPHRIA LETS HER LOVER TANGLE HIS FINGERS IN HER HAIR, and she knows, in this moment, that love is something to be endured. something to be survived. these are the things that the world around her has taught her, that the men around her have taught her. she is wit, she is ambition, she is prudence, care, consideration, sagacity, but she is still lacking. reaching too high. something tugs at the neurons in her brain that speak of love and heartache and family ( because only sentimental fools believe emotions come from the heart, even kind ones ) , but, smart as she is, she can’t quite decipher this code in front of her, this game, this never ending cycle. in dreams and in waking, she wanders through mazes and labyrinths of blackened, rotting roses, running, running, running, until she can no longer tell the difference between death and dreaming. she’s locked inside of a box that is shaped like the heart of the man she loves, and those around her snicker and jeer and scorn at this jezebel, this weak, foolish woman. ( don’t they know ? she wonders. don’t they know i hold the key ? ) her beloved kneels before her in the safety, security, sanctity, of the privacy between the two of them, buries golden hair against a stomach that begins to swell, lets her tangle her own fingers in his hair. there is a saying, about lovers and beloveds, but it is old, and sayings are inadequate to describe the definition of what lurks, deeply, between the two of them. she cannot conjure up the words to explain; only the sensations. kissing him, epiphria explains, is like being shot, three times –––– once in the head, twice in the cavity of her chest. they love with brutal, deadly efficiency. her beloved is shame and vice and glimmering golden fire, a war hero, violence in the shape of a human man, and she is wit and intelligence and caution and wilted, rotting flowers, dipped in black ink and left out to dry. she knows these things with surety –––– what she doesn’t know is what their legacy will be. has she given birth to another golden burning solar flare, or another labyrinth of hollows and echoes ? epiphria does not know. ALL SHE KNOWS IS HOW TO ENDURE, LIKE HER BETTERS BEFORE HER.

[studiedwar]

@burntmartyr liked

      It was something he had noticed upon his first examination of the transmitter, but had not given it much attention. That had been demanded by the signal being sent out to the now-confirmed location of the rebel base. But as the deathtroopers delivered a blow to the back of Kallus’ head and dragged his now-unconscious form out the door, Thrawn took a closer look. It seemed unlikely that the former agent would make his Fulcrum transmissions to anywhere else, for fear of being intercepted, even if there was another party he would be sending them to. So what could this other line be leading to?

      There was really only one way to find out. Keying for that frequency, the Chiss waited patiently for a response. When the individual’s hologram appeared, his eyes narrowed a fraction as he searched his memory, the woman stirring something in it. Then he remembered the former colleague Governor Pryce often spoke of with thinly-hidden distaste. “Minister Maketh Tua, I believe,” he greeted with a small smile. “And here we were all led to believe you were dead.”

[dathomirborn]

everyone on this call after I posted that promo just let out varying degrees of “sarah what the fuck” and I’m not even sorry.

[dathomirborn]

[9:21:55 AM] Spicy Meatball Discourse™: DO I HAVE TO FUCKIN KILL KEVIN MYSELF [9:22:01 AM] Spicy Meatball Discourse™: WHAT IS IT GOING TO TAKE [9:22:09 AM] Spicy Meatball Discourse™: I BURIED FOUR KIDS ON THIS SHOW

[9:22:19 AM] Spicy Meatball Discourse™: ALL I'M ASKING IN RETURN IS ONE DEATH [9:22:31 AM] Spicy Meatball Discourse™: JUST O N E [9:22:41 AM] Spicy Meatball Discourse™: U GOTTA SOMETIMES STOP AND ASK YOURSELF

[9:22:51 AM] elijah.: WHAT AM I WILLING TO PUT UP WITH TODAY

[9:22:51 AM] Spicy Meatball Discourse™: WHAT AM I WILLING TO PUT UP WITH TODAY?

[9:22:55 AM] elijah.: NOT FUCKING THIS

[9:22:55 AM] Spicy Meatball Discourse™: WELL I'LL TELL YOU WHAT

[9:22:57 AM] sarah: NOT FUCKING THIS

[9:22:59 AM] Spicy Meatball Discourse™: NOT!!!!! [9:23:04 AM] Spicy Meatball Discourse™: everybody shUT THE FUCK UP [9:23:07 AM] Spicy Meatball Discourse™: LET MY FINISH [9:23:13 AM] Spicy Meatball Discourse™: FUCKIN!!!!!!!!

[9:23:18 AM] Bad Dad™: this

[9:23:19 AM] Spicy Meatball Discourse™: THIS!!!!!!

[malicedriven-blog]

@burntmartyr

“I am so sorry for your loss.” And she genuinely was. For all of her minster’s faults, she hardly deserved to be lied to. So Arihnda never did lie – unless absolutely necessary. But in this case, it would only have been as much of a waste of time as a mourning period. Maketh clearly felt otherwise, and it was tiring, to say the least. “If you can, please try to return your attention to the business at hand.” If you can even bring yourself to think of something other than your dead annoyance. Kallus was sensible enough not to show any signs of being upset, if he even was. Perhaps there was hope for him. There was none for this woman, but sadly Arihnda still had to deal with it. “We have many matters to attend to.”

[kalloussed-blog]

why are you so afraid to love your grandchildren?

Anyone who knew Titus Kallus could not proclaim him to be afraid of anything. The man had seen some of the greatest horrors this galaxy had to offer and he hadn’t even flinched. There may have been some things that gave him a sense of doubt, trepidation or even slight nervousness, but fear? That was something he had cut all ties with and left rotting in the dirt during his childhood. Anyone who dared to entertain a notion to the contrary was quickly shown the error of their ways before being silenced, if necessary. And oh, how he would so dearly love to silence her.

The only sound was that of air being drawn through his flaring nostrils as he breathed deeply, his icy gaze something of a contrast to the pure unbridled rage he usually reserved for this woman. “I am not,” he said calmly but firmly. “And I do love them. Sala and Jerris are good, decent children, and I have faith that they will grow into fine members of this family.”

Now he stepped closer to tower over this woman whose reach far exceeded her grasp, yet it was still a grasp his son had somehow become ensnared in. And the fool was too blind to see how far off the right course he had been taken. Well, if he refused to cast her out of his life, his father would make certain she realised it would be better for her to leave it herself. “As for the whelps that you have borne for my son, they are not mine. I will call them my grandchildren no more than I will call you my good-daughter. Even the title of bastard is too high a station for them to achieve, yet it is all that I can call them. You may have somehow corrupted my weak-willed son, but you will not convince me that any of this is right. The only thing I approve of is that you have not yet wed him. And that is something which will never occur. For if it does, you will not live long enough to enjoy your happy union. I derive no pleasure from saying such things as this, but if it is what needs to be done, then I will not hesitate. You will leave my son. You will take him and the things you wrongly call my grandchildren somewhere he will never find you, and you will stay away from our family. And if you don’t, I will make certain he does not have to suffer your presence for much longer. Accidents happen, Maketh. As unfortunate as it would be for you to have to meet with one, it would still greatly gladden me.”