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Pure Excitement

@fortunatelydelicateearthquake

|Talia|She,her|Demisexual Lesbian|Pretty severe anxiety|Likes baking, music, theatre, videogames and Netflix|Psych Major| I am bad at descriptions and don't post original stuff often, but I think I reblog some cool and funny things. Also here's an emoticon of a bear ʕ•ﻌ•ʔ
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fortunatelydelicateearthquake
lord-heirop
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astraldemise

bigweld

bigweld

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astraldemise

you guys reblog this every wednesday every wednesday i wake up and wonder what day it is and i see bigweld in my tumblr notifications and im like ah its wednesday again bigweld wednesday just like last wednesday its wednesday its bigweld wednesday

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astraldemise

guess how i found out today is wednesday

fortunatelydelicateearthquake
whotfelsewantedtobelynnyx
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whotfelsewantedtobelynnyx

Whatever you do, don’t think about the adults in the moments before the Collector stopped the draining spell.

Don’t picture Darius, lying on a the platform surrounded by all the other Coven heads, seeing the regret on their faces and knowing it’s too late. Don’t think about the bitter thought of ‘I told you so’ that flits across his mind as the pain gets worse and worse until he can barely think. Don’t imagine him lifting his cape and allowing Eber to crawl under, finding a little comfort in their presence because at least they tried, and at least they’re dying together. And whatever you do, don’t think about him trying and failing to claw himself back to consciousness because he can hear Hunter crying his name, and there’s nothing he wants more than to go to him.

Don’t think about Lilith, helpless below her friends, unable to help. Unable to even fight it as her body begins to decay. Don’t think about the fact that she had to watch Katya and Derwin dying with her and hear the screams of her sister from above, left to do nothing but wonder if there was something she could have done. If she had only seen the light sooner, if she hadn’t wasted so many years of her life helping this monster, would they still be here? Would her sister be home with her children, maybe with Raine? Would these young witches with their whole lives ahead of them still be dying with her? And definitely don’t think about Hooty, watching helplessly from his little prison as his best friend begins to crumble to dust. 

Don’t think about Steve, trapped up on the airship with Amber. Don’t picture the moment of horrified realization when his sigil lights up, when they realize they’ve failed. Don’t imagine Steve, stumbling to the helm of the ship and trying in vain to point it in the direction of Hexside, trying to reach his little brother before it’s too late. And definitely don’t imagine the moment where he gives up hope, collapsing to the ground and fishing his scroll out of his pocket, using the last of his strength to send one last message. 

Don’t think about Dell Clawthorne, holding his wife’s hand in the moments before the Day of Unity. Don’t imagine his horror when she cries out in pain and collapses into his arms, the brand on her wrist sucking the life out of her. Don’t imagine him kneeling there, holding the love of his life in his lap as she dies, and don’t picture him tilting his head to the sky, tears on his face, and praying for his daughters and grandchildren. 

Don’t think about Raine, collapsing to the ground up on the dais. Don’t imagine the thoughts running through their head, reminding them that they failed. Failed to protect their crew, failed to stop the Day of Unity- but at least they’d been able to save Eda. Whatever you do, don’t picture them curling up in her arms for the last time and closing their eyes, letting the world fade into blackness with a small smile on their face because at least she’s alive, and at least they get to go out in her arms. 

And don’t think about Eda. Eda, watching her entire world die around her, knowing she’d failed to save them. Don’t picture her, holding Raine close because that’s all she can do, because she can’t save their life or at least ease their pain, but she can hold them. Don’t think about her dwelling on the thoughts of her kids, and tearing up when she realizes that at least they’ll be ok (for how could she know). And whatever you do, don’t imagine her pressing a gentle kiss to Raine’s forehead, tears falling down onto their closed eyelids. Don’t imagine her hunched over them, holding them and doing her best to tune out the screams of the crowd, pretending they’re just on their hill. That they’re just napping in her lap as she strokes their hair, that they’ll wake up any minute. 

Don’t close your eyes and imagine her starting to brokenly hum. 

DISCLAIMER: THESE DETAILS ARE EMBELLISHED AND NOT NECESSARILY ACCURATE. I WAS LITERALLY JUST HAVING FEELS ABOUT THE IDEA OF EDA SINGING RAINE’S RHAPSODY TO A DYING RAINE AND IT RAN AWAY WITH ME. 

#saved