but they continue on

youtube

2005 - 2012 comfort/survival band is back together. Didn’t know this was happening. I feel this shit album might be a message from God and if you love me you should listen to it

anonymous asked:

Is Naga genderless?

answer: inconclusive

(balance: trolling, or serious? the world may never know)

The Beginning

(I am so sorry but the plot bunny wouldn’t leave. This is a story arc about my sides. I never said that Praeses was good in the beginning now did I?)

@fandomsandanythingelse @vergeangst @virgil-must-be-angsty @obsessing-over-obsessions @giraffeanimal @afangirlforeverything @magicalwolfgirllupus @pirate-patton @romananalogicality @the-sides-of-patton @here-to-vent @i-am-a-fander @theoneandonlyfangirlofpower @aikogumi @thoughts-of-a-sarcastic-ace @moosesquirralkitten67apn @jiyudreamer @acecreates @i-just-punched-malfoy @kitsuneprideleader @cinquefoilelove @3-has-charm @thelogicalloganipus @beholdagay @echointhetincan @thomas-must-get-to-sleep @lev-me-alone @emotionalextrovert

“You’re the one, aren’t you?”

“Pavor warned you, betrayed by the one you trust.”

“You were trying to DESTROY us! Why!?”

“They promised that I wouldn’t get pushed around anymore.”

“They’re using you! To get back at us!”

“Good!” Praeses looked at Umbra, clutching their sweater. They stared at them with defiance, tears threatening to fall.

“I’ve been here since the very beginning! I’ve been here as long as you! And yet for some odd reason, I apparently don’t matter to all of you! Because I can’t keep our host happy.”

“Rae please… Don’t do this.” Umbra stared at them with a pleading look.

“Please.”

“No. I’m done playing nice. I’ll do anything, and i don’t care if I hurt any of you!” Praeses tears started to freely fall down now, hiccups rose from their chest.

“You were never on MY side! "They glared at Umbra, challenging them.

"We need you Rae. We can’t function without you.”

“You NEVER needed me! You’re just saying that so Scio doesn’t have to take my job! Well guess what!? Now you don’t have to worry about that! Because soon, there’ll be no more sides.”

“That’ll destroy you too!”

“So!?”

“Why are you doing this!?”

“Because I just want to be loved, and Pavos and Cavus provided that.” Praeses looked at Umbra one more time before disappearing.

“God where did it go so wrong?”

@peachitea insisted I draw Lon’qu in a dress that ended up with me realizing I’d be a lot taller than him and I can’t believe I didn’t know this before. I love him. My tiny man.

anonymous asked:

feel like they're really overusing anezka and the love triangle/rafael wanting to be with petra, and it's become her only plotlines since the timejump ... at least in the beginning of s3 it was going somewhere, by the end it felt so dragged-out and uninteresting.

I agree. Especially now since they’ve brought back Magda. They keep putting so many burdens on Petra that her entire storyline is her difficulties and setbacks and not just her, if that makes sense.

Thrown Against Something (Whumptober/Inktober Day 21)

As always, for the inktober whump prompts HERE.  Thanks @whumpreads!
@killian-whump, @ladyciaramiggles, @cocohook38, @nothingimpossibleonlyimprobable, @xhookswenchx, @gusenitsaa, @pirate-owl
All prompts: HERE
Previous Days: Knees | Bag | Cell | Noose | Explosion | Bone | Guilt | Scar | Self-inflicted | Gunpoint | Sacrifice | Starvation | Sleep-deprivation | Brainwashing | Drugged | Sensory | Withdrawal | Flashback | Panic| Threats



Killian knows that something is wrong from the moment it happens.  One minute, he’s swinging his sword at yet another dark knight insistent on taking his head off and stealing his Swan from him.  The next minute?  Well, the next minute he’s flying through the air like someone’s tossed a rope around his midsection and pulled it tight with a bloody fleet of horses.

It’s all over for him the moment he hits the fallen tree, something sharp piercing his back and lodging deeply inside him.  It steals his breath with an alacrity that he’s never before experienced, lancing pain and a pervasive chill race through him before he can even cry out.

And he won’t - cry out, that is.  Not if he can help it.  It might pull Swan’s attention from the battle of her own that she’s waging, and he can’t risk that.  Not for a sorry sod of a man like him who doesn’t deserve her in the first place.

It isn’t too hard to play dead, his eyes closed to mere slits just in case, when the knight stalks over to him and nudges him with a boot.  The stubborn part of him wants to tear himself free of whatever has snagged him and end this man’s life before he can attack Emma, but the realistic part of him knows that he doesn’t have a chance in hell.

He thinks the ruse has worked for just a moment before the knight rears back and kicks him in the head, sending him spiraling into unconsciousness before he can even react.

He wakes to fingers in his hair and excruciating pain radiating out from his back.  The coppery tang that fills the air makes him ill, but Swan is kneeling with his head in her lap and speaking frantically into what he will eventually realize is the magic shell that connects him with his brother at all times.

Liam.

Gods, his brother is going to be insufferable about this - Killian’s first time out on his own protecting the princess and he nearly gets himself killed.

Nearly, he hopes.

His head is threatening to implode, the world swimming sickeningly in front of his eyes and swaying wildly when he closes them.  His back is on fire, the thought of moving nearly enough to make him weep.  The rest of him is cold, however, wracking his body with shivers that reignite the flames and destroy his resolve not to groan.

Or whimper, he realizes when he connects the sound he just heard with his own voice.  That was a gods’ honest whimper and he must be in more dire straits than he thought.

Emma’s fingers tighten in his hair, setting off a whole new series of aches and shivers, but also ground him in the present when the pain seeks to send him reeling.  He has to focus.  He has to keep her safe, get her away from here as quickly as he can manage.  

The princess is his priority and also… also his love.  He’d have given his life for her at any point in his tenure in the Royal Navy, the vow he took as a terrified sixteen-year old to Queen and Country never far from his mind.  But one stolen moment at the debutante ball for the princess had led to a courtship that was frowned upon by all save her parents, and things had developed from there.

Until the Evil Queen had returned, bringing with her a curse obliterating Emma’s light magic and her mother’s own brand of malice - a barricade around the kingdom that not only trapped the Royal Family within its borders, but also shut Liam and Killian off from the sea.  (Killian knew that the latter was coincidental, but it still made him seethe)  Left grounded in more ways than one, the Jones brothers had taken on the responsibility of Emma’s safety as she and her parents raced to break the curse and the siege.

Which leads them back to this very moment, Killian bleeding out in the forest and Emma’s hands figuratively tied against saving him.

“Emma, luv,” he whispered, afraid to speak louder lest it wake some new hurt, “you have to go.  Get to safety.  My brother will come for you.”

She hits him, and he cringes at the force behind the blow to his shoulder.  Every hurt voices its protest, nearly sending him back into the blackness save for the venom in Emma’s voice.

“You idiot, I’m not going anywhere until we can move you!” she hisses and Killian can’t help imagining a viper poised to strike.  Swan’s temper is a sight to behold, and he opens his eyes against his better judgment to take in her face.

Gods, I love her when she’s angry, he thinks before smirking disarmingly.  Charmingly, even.  Anything to erase the look of worry that is peeking out from behind the ire.

She rolls her eyes at him.

“Em-”

“No.  Don’t try it.  I’m not leaving you behind.”  She reaches behind him to prod at his back and he grits his teeth against the cry of agony that wants to escape.

He pants through her ministrations, writhing away from her touch when he can no longer stand it.  “Please,” he begs breathlessly.  “Please don’t do that again.”

Emma curls over his head, trying to soothe him as she apologizes in his ear.

Tears leak from his eyes as he tries to pant through the pain, his world reduced to the princess above him and the fire behind him.  The Evil Queen, herself, could march into the glade and he doubts he’d notice.

“I’m sorry, Killian, please.  I have to get you out of here.  Please forgive me,” she mutters and it’s the only warning he has before the fire in his back explodes into an inferno that steals the very breath from his lungs so suddenly that he can’t even cry out before he goes limp, thanking the blackness for taking him away from this agony.

bodyasleep-mindawake  asked:

What if the Volturi are wearing suits because it is a holiday and they were planning on having a day off, joining the humans and partying but Edward had to disrupt that. They couldn’t be bothered with changing clothes. Alternatively on their annual trip out to the balcony (the one that Carlisle was painted on) they wear the clothes of the time. In 2000 and something that just happened to be a suit

THAT HAS TO BE IT. 

That has to be the one and only time they wore suits. They wore the suits to blend in, and only just that one time because everyone got too festive celebrating St. Marcus day and everyone was a little drunk on blood, it happens to the best of us! 👏🎉

It’s Canon now, guys. It’s Official™. All is well! Case closed forever!