have you ever looked at a window and wondered how injured you would be if you jumped out of it
It is considered the Avatar’s duty to master the four elemental disciplines, and use such power to keep balance amongst the four nations of the world.
With the death of the Avatar, the spirit is reborn into the following nation, dictated by the cyclic order; water, earth, fire, air
Friends like these are worth so much.
One thing I will always have to give the anime is that they spent more time on Usagi’s friendships with the other Sailor Senshi (given that they had a lot more time to do so, versus the manga, which was already pretty densely packed) so when these scenes came along, they were even more heartbreaking.
You felt her friendships with these girls, you had grown fond of them yourself because of the extra time spent on their characters. You understood why Usagi’s friends were so incredibly precious to her.
My favorite graphics in the fandom are the ones that remind me of those feelings and this one is no exception! I can’t look at it without going OMG DARLINGS LET ME MAKE IT ALL BETTER FOR YOU. T__T
Electriicl0ve: UPDATED: Durarara!! Drinking Game →
- Two drinks everytime Shizuo says Izaya’s name.
- One drink eveytime Izaya gives the creeper smile
- One drink everytime Mikado stutters or gets flustered
- One drink everytime Kida tries to pick up a chick. Two if it’s Anri.
- One drink everytime Simon tries to pawn off sushi.
- One drink everytime…
The National - England
“Today, I killed the entire city of Whiterun (except the unkillable). I saved before, obviously, but I killed everyone… and it was sad.”
http://skyrimconfessions.tumblr.com
amazing
“Angels,” Castiel says, and Dean doesn’t respond—only slings Castiel’s arm higher over his shoulder, pulls him closer to his chest. Castiel’s dripping blood with every step, and his flesh doesn’t knit together as readily as it used to. His eyes are half-lidded, one swollen blue-black, and his lips curl into a smile.
“My brothers,” Castiel says, more faintly this time, and Dean takes another step forward. Castiel’s feet drag on the dry underbrush, pulling twigs and leaves into little mounds that precede his steps like some kind of procession.
“Not angels, Cas,” Dean murmurs. “Fire.”
Castiel laughs, and laughs and laughs, and Dean wonders if the sound bursting from Castiel is only there to cover the hollowness within him.
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