energy drip

Aries - It Hurts to Become

Aries is the transparent canvas, while neighbor sign Pisces is the 12 toned water crystal that infuses the rainbow of every zodiac. These signs are almost Siamese in their divinity. The former fresh is from heaven, the closest emanation of the mind of god. And the latter wandering through incarnation holding onto memories of heaven. The child is held under the protective arms of his Parent, unconsciously guarded due to his primitiveness and watched over like a newborn still sparkling with the left over energies of initial creation. Aries is the initial impulse of god, emanating through their famous impulsive streaks. Did the creator plan and map out the big bang? Or was it a fierce, spontaneous eruption, the very elation of coming into being? The impulsive ether of Aries, cascading in intensity, surge from an inner fire to explode like a nebula in will to become, create, experience. This inner pulse is infused with the divinity, an electricity that gives the soul movement. Aries in their very being, contemplating the dripping energy streams and pure aggression, the rhythmic temper of the universe burst like the initial force. The indwelling explosions that cascade through their pours and breathe fire into their fingertips, are the resonant spots of the big bang, the ultimate Aries ecstasy. Aries is a birthplace, the divine illumination of being and the opening creative process, like a cosmic dawn. This is the blank piece of paper that opens the door to manifestation and ruptures into the celestial zodiac artwork. What may be perceived as efforts of self sabotage or conscious destruction on behalf of the Aries individual is the process of bridge burning to build a new underground tunnel. The big bang cannot have been a formulaic, controlled process. It was likely wild, loud and excruciating. The temperamental outbursts of Aries, the flame throwing and demolition emanate the ferocious, furious initial detonation. There is a high resonant energy in Aries individuals, and this is the throttling first life force, the painful procedure of becoming and negotiating indwelling explosives, little, though constant big bangs. These are little, though constant divine surges, like god’s first memory replaying over and over throughout them. 


-Cherry

hufflebee  asked:

40 + magnus/alec

Malec + “I believe you dropped this”


“Look out!”

Narrowly avoiding the oncoming Seraph blade, Magnus sent a blast of burning magic into the Circle member’s gut, screams filling the air. Unconsciously, his magic sought out Alec, fighting on the other side of the darkened alley. They were supposed to go on a date, like they always did on Fridays, but an emergency call had reached them just as they were preparing to leave. Tracking the call to an alley in Manhattan, filled with Circle members, was not exactly how they had envisioned their day to go.

Still, watching the blood drip off his knuckles after punching the approaching man in the face, Magnus couldn’t stop the satisfaction from spreading through his body. Just yesterday, there had been an attack on warlock children not far from there, and now he had no doubt who had been the offending party.

Bringing his hands up to his chest, he felt the red strands of his magic curling into a ball, moving from his body to his fingers. He slammed his arms forward, and his magic was unleashed. The red blast crashed into his opponents, knocking them off their feet. Not a second later, Alec appeared in the fog, finishing them off. One more glance to the other side of the alley, and he turned to Magnus.

“Are you alright?”

“Of course I am,” Magnus answered, his magic checking Alec for injuries, “ready for another round?”

“Always,” Alec said, voice playful.

Taking off his blazer and banishing it back to the loft, Magnus noticed how Alec’s eyes lingered at the shirt straining over his arms. “Is this our idea of date night now?”

“What, you’re not having fun?” Alec quipped, striding forward again, only to be met with a few dozen Circle members rounding the corner.

Keep reading

Imagine you and Ivar love to raid and battle together

Part Ihttp://lordavanti.tumblr.com/post/156851277953/imagine-you-and-ivar-love-to-raid-and-battle
Part II: http://lordavanti.tumblr.com/post/156891745733/imagine-you-and-ivar-love-to-raid-and-battle
Part IIIhttp://lordavanti.tumblr.com/post/156943251008/imagine-you-and-ivar-love-to-raid-and-battle

Summary: A month further, Ivar is all overprotective now and suddenly wants to marry you. But your head is somewhere else … you have more pain than usual, your son kicks less than normal. You have still a month to go and just as you want to visit Helga there are thos contractions. Your son lies in the wrong direction and you just lose to much blood, will you survive?
Words: 2714


You wore a gown for a change, it was a lot more comfortable than the typical warrior clothes you wore before, certainly with your oversized belly. There were two things changed since the attack from last month. Ivar was more around … constanly watching you like you could drop any moment to the ground. And your son kicked not that hard anymore, you hardly felt him move at all. “We should marry.” Ivar said. You turned on the chair and looked how he get his shirt on.
“Why, Ivar? Because I’m pregnant of your son?”
“Yes.” He nodded. You looked at him and bited your lip, a little dreamy. “You don’t want to?” He asked. You pulled yourself out of your own thoughts and looked at him.
“Your changing, growing all soft.” You spotted. He frowned his eyebrows and stared at the door.
“You said I would be a good father.” He looked at you, a little unsteady maybe. You pushed yourself from the chair and walked over to the bed. He supported you as soon as you were in range.
“I will not break.” You smiled because of his over protection.
“You maybe not but he,” he pressed his lips against your belly and looked up at you for a moment. “you can’t be carefull enough.” He wispered.
“You kiss him already a lot more than me.” You observed. He chuckles and pulled his head back.
“You jealous?” He asked with that seductive smile you loved. How could you be jealous, he treated you like a goddess past month. And even he was a cripple, he crawled half the village if you needed something. But you never told him that there was something changed with your son. You never told him about the pain you sometimes had. It was to early, it wasn’t possible. “I wish I could know what you are thinking of.”
“Hmm.” You looked at him and shook your head. “Nothing really. Shouldn’t you be with your brothers?” You asked to switch the subject. He narrowed his eyes and nodded slowly.
“You never aswered my question, we should marry.”
 “Get me through childbird and maybe I will.” You gave in. He smiled, as if he completed something that took a lot of work. You watched him getting of the bed and crawling to the door, without kissing you goodbye, see …

As soon as he was away you stroke over your belly, trying to control the little pain you were already feeling again. “Maybe we should go visit Helga.” You said softly against yourself. You stood up, walked the house out to Helga. It was a long walk, to long and you needed to rest more than once. You where almost by the house when you felt a cramp coming up. “Not now, please.” You wispered to your belly, holding your body up to a tree.
“Y/n?” You looked up to Floki who stood with an axe besides a fallen tree. He came towards you, confused looking from your belly to your face.
“I think somethings wrong?” You said afraid.
“Helga is with Torvi, you need to go back.”
“I gonna loose him.” You wispered. It was a month to early, you son couldn’t come now.
“You’re not believing in the gods Y/n, they have great plans for you and your son.” You watched to Floki who maked some weird movements with his hand above his head. You felt the pain again and Floki supported you back to the village, the whole way he was mumbling to himself, praying to the gods. He got you home, back on the bed before he rushed out to get Helga and some other woman. Helga told you over her childbirth, over the pain, the yelling. But you mostly felt fear now you were there all by yourself, trying to control your breathing while Floki get the others. It felt like hours but when she got through the door she immidiatly began to look for symptoms.
“He will come y/n.”
“It’s to soon.” You said in panic. Margrethe followed with some other woman you hardly knew.
“How long is this going on?” Helga asked while she started preparing. Margrethe was warming water by the fire, the other woman folded fabrics for the baby, or for you, who knows.
“Since the attack, he didn’t moved liked before and sometimes I felt a light pain. I was coming to see you Helga.” Their was a new contraction and you already felt the sweat coming up.
“Does Ivar know?”
“Does Ivar know what?” He asked in the doorway. His confused gaze said enough. He needed some time to put it all together but when he finally looked at you, you saw a little anger underneath concern. “y/n?” He asked, still in the doorway. You sucked in a deep breath and looked then towards him.
“I’m sorry.” You wispered. He crawled to the bed and both of you looked to Helga who was puching your belly.
“He doesn’t lie with his head in the good direction.” She confirmed. You closed your eyes, tears rolling down your cheeks.
“It’s my fault, I should have stopped training, riding, I should have stayed home with the attack, because of me you never gonna see your son alive.” A new contraction hits you and you tried to just bite away the pain. Ivar laid his hand on your forehead, his thumb stroking your skin.
“You will get through this, the gods are not that cruel y/n.” But you hardly couldn’t listen to him.
“You should go Ivar.” You wispered through your tears. When you looked at him he shook his head. “Please, for once don’t be so stubborn.” You said further. He laid his arm around your head and you took a hold at it with both hands.
“You can do battle, you can do this to. I know you only one way Y/n and that is strong.” He wispered, pressing a short kiss on your forehead. The more contractions there came, the more pain you got.
“He has to get out Y/n, you have to start pressing.” Helga said. The fear in your eyes overcame all your power to fight. Margrethe watched in concern while you pushed for the first time, and the second … and the third. Helga exchanged looks with the other woman and you closed your eyes, hiding your head against Ivar’s arm.
“What is it?” He asked. You knew you were bleeding already a lot and it shouldn’t supposed to go like that.
“If the baby don’t come out soon he will kill Y/n. She is already loosing to much blood and losing all strenght.” Helga answered him before she turned to the two other women and start to explain things to them.
“Y/n, you have to do this.” Ivar softly said against your ear. You turned your head and shook your head.
“Promise me you will take care of him. If I die, please, Ivar, take care of him. Make him fierce and famous just like you are. Promise me?” Your fingertips stroked his cheekbone while you looked at him. He nodded, you saw a tear from the corner of his eye getting towards his cheek. “Your the most amazing man I ever met Ivar and I’m glad that I always could fight beside you through all those times, that I can carry your son now.”
“Don’t make this a goodbye.” He wispered. You looked away from him, back to Helga who nodded slowly.
“The faster he is out, the more change you have Y/n.” She said with a strong voice. She gave you some courage. You took a deep breath, clenched yourself on to Ivar his arm en closed your eyes. How hard could it be? You start pushing, yelling all the pain into Kattegat. After ten times there was hardly any progress and your head felt back in the bed, your eyes half shut.
“Can’t you cut it out?” Ivar asked impatient, restless, angry almost.
“Cut it out? Are you mad. She will loose more blood!” Helga defensed your situation immidiatly.
“She is dying Helga!” He yelled at here. “And he isn’t coming.” He pointed at your belly. You wanted to comfort him but all of your energy slowly dripped away.
“I’m not gonna cut into Y/n.” Helga shook her head.
“Do it or I will the one cutting into you.” He was totaly panicking, that was for sure.
“What if I cut into him?”
“Get him out Helga, we are losing her.” Ivar threatened.
“I will do it.” Someone said with a steady tone. You opended your eyes a little only to see Lagertha walking in, confident and practical. Ivar looked at her, not sure what he had to do. “If I don’t she will die.” Lagertha asked him for permission, he nodded before he turned to you again. He laid his hands against your cheeks, looking for eye contact.
“You can’t give up now Y/n, please, don’t leave, don’t leave me.” He begged with tears in his eyes you never saw before. You wanted to respond but their was nothing left for you. Lagertha started to cut and the pain and bloodloss of that maked you lose consciousness.

Did you go to Valhalla if you failed to deliver your child? The seer saw you dying loneliness but this was not that. You constanly heard prayers, people talking to you, stroking their fingers over your forehead, thought your hair.  You couldn’t move, your body slowly took his final ride, you hoped to Valhalla … you were sure you earned it. You fought many battles, this one was your last. You wished you just could open your eye one last time, to see the people you loved. You said it not enough, you were always so distant and hard, hardly showing any emotions and now … it was to late. You would die and you wouldn’t see you own son. If you had a last wish it would be that, see him, hold him, touch him. You heard the sounds of a sacrifice in your head, you weren’t even sure if it was real. But it was like the gods heard your last prayer to let you see your son. Only it was in a dream, the kind of dream you always wanted to have. You saw your son, he stood beside the chariot of Ivar with that same strongheaded look. Black hair, just like his father cut it. He was so young, full in battlegear, a sword in his belt. There was a full army on both sides of him. He looked up in the chariot, towards his father. “You ready?” Ivar asked his son amused. The boy nodded, looking towards the enemy while he tightened his grip on his shield. “Give the commando.” Ivar followed, proudly looking towards his son. The boy pulled his sword, ready for his first battle besides his father.
“SHIELD WALL!” He yelled and the full army put their shields in front. That was the dream the gods gave you before they pulled you back in that dark unsure world between dying and living.

When you forced you eyes open you couldn’t see much exept for a ceiling. Their was some wet fabric on you head and you felled some tinglings in your fingers and toes. You felt heavy, heavy and tired. For a moment you didn’t knew where you were, was this Valhalla? It had a lot in comment with the house you had in Kattegat. To your suprice your head turned, looking for some grip on the reality. Their was a bowl with water, some herbs and dried fabrics with blood, your blood. You turned your head slowly to the left only to see Ivar, sleeping in a chair. His legs bound in front of him. He looked so peacefull, so not full of anger like usual. But it wasn’t seeing him again that started tears rolling down your face, it was what rested on his chest, a small little baby. You always tried to imagine Ivar with a child, a baby even but the image was never completly right but this … He had his hand supportive under the little guy, both sleeping and both so peacefull. “Ivar.” Your voice was weak, sore and barly to hear. He didn’t react. You tried to move but it didn’t worked, you were still to weak. Your son maked a little noice, turning his head against his father before sleeping further. Ivar moved a little to, moving his head to the same direction in his sleep. The tears rolled over your cheeks, you were alive, the gods gave you a second change, they found it worty for you to see your son grow up.

You stared for a least what felt like hours before someone came in. It was Helga and when she saw your wet face and open eyes she immidiatly came to the bed. “It’s so good to finally see you awake.” You said tenderly.
“What,”
“You lost a lot of blood during childbirth, it almost killed you. Lagertha had to cut him out. Afterwards you had a fever, what is under control now.” She explained while feeling your head and cheeks. “Do you want me to wake them?” She asked with a look towards Ivar and your son, you nodded slowly. Helga stood up and turned towards Ivar. “Ivar.” She shook his shoulder carefully.
“It’s not because I’m holding a baby that I’m not be able to kill.” He murmured. You wanted to laugh because of what he said but you couldn’t, you were still crying over the fact that you were alive.
“Y/n is awake.” Helga smiled. You saw Ivar his eyes fly open, his gaze directly towards you.
“Take over.” He wispered without even looking toward Helga. She took the baby from his chest and he let his body fall to the ground before crawling to the bed. He pushed his body up and carefull laid a hand against you cheek. You closed your eyes, finding his hand with yours. “I never believed the gods would take you away from this world.” He wispered. His free hand stroked your hair and you almost felt asleep again. “Y/n?” You opened your eyes and looked back at him. “I love you, I never said it enough.” He followed.
“How do you feel Y/n?” Helga asked while she was rocking your son back to sleep.
“Tired.” You honestly answered.
“Then go back to sleep my love.”
“Don’t get all emotional over me Ivar.” You hardly had the strenght to speak but it brought you a smile for him.
“You gave uss a couple days to overthink our lives and get emotional over it.” He replied. You looked back to Helga and your son, Ivar took it as a sign and pulled his body on the bed, wraping his arms carefully around you to pull you a little up.
“Carefull Ivar.” Helga said. Your body rested against Ivar chest but despite the pain you didn’t protest.
“Give him back.” He demanded Helga with a tone you never heard him talking with. You frowned your eyebrows but fast loose the interest in that because of what was heading your way … your son. Helga laid him back in Ivar’s arms, he was so tender with his movements that the tears came back. You looked down at the baby, dark, almost black hair, soft skin, tiny fingers and those ocean blue eyes like his father. He was staring at you, concentrated almost. “Meet y/n, she is the strongest and fiercest woman of Kattegat and the world. Lucky for you son she’s also your mother.” Ivar introduced his son to you. The baby stared at you before his gaze felt on Ivar, you turned you head and met the loving smile on Ivar his lips.
“Already in love?” You asked with a small painfull grin.
“He is healthy Y/n, not a cripple like me and as beautifull as you.” Ivar said softly, both of you looking how your son his eyes felt shut. You laid a finger on his small hand and looked how he wrapped his little fingers around it. You head rested against Ivar’s chest as you felt asleep as well.

The end?

anonymous asked:

Speaking of Zarkon, I've entertained the thought that his suit perhaps has something to do with his longevity? Kind of like a "battery" of sorts (if that makes sense) in the fact that Haggar "charges" his armor with Quintessence where it kind of slow-drips the energy into his system from there, so as not to royally mess him up (like Robeast change possibly, idk). I mostly got the thought from seeing how his mantle seems to be specifically made for receiving quintessence. Any thoughts on this?

A very interesting idea, and you’re right, during the rituals it does seem like there’s specific ‘ports’ on his cape that the energy goes into. That level of caution might also be necessary considering quintessence can be used to kill- a level of separation might be necessary to protect Zarkon, and the druids also suggested at one point that Haggar wanted to limit Zarkon’s exposure, suggesting that even though the stuff is prolonging his life, it has to be fed to him in specific contexts and concentrations.

Could very well also explain why Haggar doesn’t just throw a switch and zap Zarkon back to full longevity but seemingly, he’s in for a pretty lengthy recovery- even if the quintessence might be magical life juice you can’t just supercharge someone on it without ill effects.

Originally posted by dimensao7

Aries - It hurts to become

Aries is the transparent canvas, while neighbor sign Pisces is the 12 toned water crystal that infuses the rainbow of every zodiac. These signs are almost Siamese in their divinity, the former fresh from heaven, the closest emanation of the mind of god; and the latter wandering through incarnation holding onto memories of heaven. The child is held under the protective arms of his Parent, unconsciously guarded due to his primitiveness and watched over like a newborn still sparkling with the left over energies of initial creation. Aries is the initial impulse of god, emanating through their famous impulsive streaks. Did the creator plan and map out the big bang? Or was it a fierce, spontaneous eruption, the very elation of coming into being? The impulsive ether of Aries, cascading in intensity, surge from an inner fire to explode like a nebula in will to become, create, experience. This inner pulse is infused with the divinity, an electricity that gives the soul movement. Aries in their very being, contemplating the dripping energy streams and pure aggression, the rhythmic temper of the universe burst like the initial force. The indwelling explosions that cascade through their pours and breathe fire into their fingertips, are the resonant spots of the big bang, the ultimate Aries ecstasy. Aries is a birthplace, the divine illumination of being and the opening creative process, like a cosmic dawn. This is the blank piece of paper that opens the door to manifestation and ruptures into the celestial zodiac artwork. What may be perceived as efforts of self sabotage or conscious destruction on behalf of the Aries individual is the process of bridge burning to build a new underground tunnel. The big bang cannot have been a formulaic, controlled process. It was likely wild, loud and excruciating. The temperamental outbursts of Aries, the flame throwing and demolition emanate the ferocious, furious initial detonation. There is a high resonant energy in Aries individuals, and this is the throttling first life force, the painful procedure of becoming and negotiating indwelling explosives, little, though constant big bangs. These are little, though constant divine surges, like god’s first memory replaying over and over throughout them.
-Cherry

Quickly about chapter 846

I tried to resist not to read the chapter before weekend but heh, here is another review from the latest chapter. There are so many spoilers already so I guess there is no need to warn about them :D 

Ok so as seen, Luffy and Nami are still fighting against Big Moms army and things definitely aren’t looking good for them since they are practially beaten They even lost the vivre card Lola gave them. But maybe the most heartbreaking thing is to see Luffy crawling with his last drip of energy swearing that he will not leave the place until Sanji comes, again another reminder how loyal the captain is to his nakama  (and this situation  is seriously so wrong, poor Luffy gets first beaten by his own cook and now they got overpowered  by enemies and his tooth hasn’t magically appeared :<)

Elsewhere Sanji is making deals with Big Mom in order to save his nakama . What is bothering is the way ‘Momma’ talks to him because first of all she is talking about current comrades which means she is confident that Sanji is going to be part of them right after the wedding (and this is sad because no one wants it to happen) but would her plan to be that Mugiwaras somehow ended up to be her underlings anyways if the marriage will happen, especially if they refuse to leave? Well  Big Mom agrees the terms, as long as everything goes according the plan. 

Big Mom is happy about the marriage though, so happy that she is even willing to put behind the anger about Mugiwaras rumbling around in Seducing Woods etc. but under that one certain condition but I am more interested to look forward to see what really goes inside her head besides the thoughts of getting cake and sweets.

Charlotte Linlin is a very very suspicious yonko but her hat is kinda cute and definitely a enemy for Mugiwaras but what is the motive for the alliance with Judge actually and what was the talk about “wedding day going to be a day that no one will forget” in last chapter?
Somehow I have a feeling that she is not going to keep her words. I mean she could surprise us all by betraying Vinsmokes because she is most likely after the power and might not really interested in Judge’s businesses and would she actually give her precious daughter away if she found out how much Judge despises Sanji? 

 Then we finally see Sanji smiling after so many heart ripping chapters and people seem to be very happy with it. However I am not convinced because this doesn’t look a real smile that’ll send the vibes of full of happiness.
I mean he of course is very relieved that Big Mom will let them out safely but it is hard to imagine that he’ll honestly be happy with the decision of leaving them behind and the fact that he will now literally give up on his dreams.
We know that Sanji tends to be the guy who hides all the negative emotions so it is not impossible that behind that smile is nothing but worry and agony. 
The other possibility is that Sanji is again in a dead end and he has no other choice than buy her words but could a smart man like Sanji fall to her words and trust her? 

Anyways it is interesting to see if Sanji has come up with a plan because he still is a strategist and somehow he is behaving suspiciously confident  despite the fact that he is  probably very hurt and torn inside. He also has not convinced about his “feelings towards his wife-to-be. Making promises to his mother in law might just be part of his play and what raised my eyebrow was that he even completely ignored and skipped Big Mom’s comment about him falling into Pudding so one other reason to think that this marriage might not happen. Who knows, maybe there is the good old Sanji we know behind that sly smirk ;) 

Then we finally see other characters when Pedro and Brook are preparing themselves for a big mission, to steal poneglyphs. They are going to face another enemy from Charlotte family, Charlotte Smoothie a person who literally squishes juices out of you… creepy af, why there is no normal people around?
The immediate thought was that Brook might have a huge benefit if they end up fighting because the musician is literally nothing but bones and there is nothing to be sucked but let’s see how the mission will go on.

This review ended up to be quite short mostly because the story itself didn’t move forward a lot from the previous chapter (thought they’d already skip up to wedding but we need the feel of tension and excitement)  and actually I was a bit disappointed not to see Chopper and Carrot around because it would be interesting to know whether they are somewhere close to Sanji or not but at least finally a chapter that didn’t completely destroy fangirl’s soul (I was preparing for a heart attack). 

But what I am most impressed in this chapter is  definitely Nami, I mean if that bolt of thunder what we saw in last chapter was made by her this only proofs how underrated she is as fighter. If she managed to tame a massive lightning bolt she is capable of everything from now on ! She has the sorcery clima tact what can be a huge benefit in upcoming fights and I really can’t stop wondering if she could use mirage tempo to bail herself out of trouble and sneaking to save him :>

The more Oda shows the badass side of her the more I feel that this is just a beginning of  her era and if Oda allows, the navigator will be soon on her way to save Sanji from marrying the wrong person ;) *hopeless optimism*

So another weather forecast for future, the storm is rising with the chance of thunder !

Dry Those Tears ((Ayakane))

In the suburbs of Tokyo a mission was taking place.

Ayato Kirishima breathed deeply as his kagune let out shard after shard, GIs falling victim to his wrath.

“Ayato,” A voice whispered cooly by his shoulder.

Surprised, the boy turned quickly only to be met by a familiar one eyed ghoul.

Feeling a slight red tinge his cheeks beneath his mask, Ayato grimaced.

“What?” he asked, dodging a bullet being that came flying towards him.

“The GIs in the east sector have been taken down,” Kaneki reported, his silvery white hair glinting with specks of blood.

“Okay, send the surviving ghouls out to the west.”

Nodding in a swift reply, the ghoul rushed from his partner, spreading the message through the ranks of fighting ghouls.

Though the mission was meant to be simple, things were escalating and the rage of war seemed to painting down on the shoulder of every investigator and ghoul.

As Ayato continued to fight, he felt his energy drip slowly away, leaving him slightly exhausted.

Slipping away from the battle, he managed to creep to a dark alley to take a much needed breather.

‘Damn,’ he thought, cursing the direction of the battle.

Though the ghouls were winning, the many ghoul casualties were bearing down on him more than he cared to admit.

“Running away so soon?”

Startled, Ayato felt a yip escape his lips before he was pinned down by an unfamiliar rinkaku.

“What the hell!”

As Ayato struggled against the wall and the kagune, he cursed his low RC and energy.

“Who the hell are you?”, he asked, struggling to see his captor.

“Oh, I’m hurt that you’ve forgotten me,” the mysterious voice cried, feigning hurt.

No.

“You’re the betrayer?”

A feminine laugh caressed Ayato’s ears as Nico stepped out of the shadows.

“Oh my. Darling, how good it is to see you! So a-dor-a-ble,” Nico cooed, earning a harsh glare.

“Shut up traitor!” Ayato barked, once again struggling to escape Nico’s kagune.

“Its no use. You have no energy darling. You see, I did not betray you, per say. I merely assisted in the coming of a fight that was to come,” Nico explained, a tight smile masking his features.

“F*** you.”

“The GIs were extremely grateful for the information regarding the Aogiri mission plan. Everything is going splendid!”, Nico giggled, unhindered by the rot of death and massacre around him.

“You know, I was suppose to kill you, but I could always play with you first,” Nico winked suggestively, stroking his rinkaku against Ayato’s pale face.

'Let me go you disgusting freak!”, Ayato screamed, panic setting down on him.

Disgust crackled through his bones as Nico caressed his face, lips pressing onto his neck causing him to shudder and close his eyes in hatred.

Just as Nico was about to kiss him, Ayato was shocked to hear a velvety voice cut through the crisp air.

“I don’t think I want you to kiss Ayato before I even get a chance tell him how cute he looks in his uniform,” a familiar voice said with irritation.

“Kaneki,” Ayato muttered, relief drenching his voice.

“Yes, Kaneki,” Nico sniped.

“Mm. Now, Nico, may I please ask you to put Ayato down before I get angry?”, Kaneki asked, hints of rage slicing through his normally nonchalant demeanor.

“Hm?Maybe. Actually, no.”

Ayato gasped as Nico’s rinkaku speared him through the stomach, soaking his energy and strength away even further.

“Ayato!”

With a rapid speed, Kaneki shot out his own kagune and wrapped it around Ayato’s dangling waist, successfully un-spearing the barely conscious ghoul from Nico and pulling him towards the furious white-haired ghoul.

“Kaneki”, Ayato found himself whispering when he was held in the older ghoul’s arms.

“I’m sorry,” Kaneki whispered while gently laying a small kiss on the boy’s forehead.

As Kaneki laid him on the ground, Ayato felt small tears breach his eyes as he shook and thought of, strangely, his father.

He was so lonely, lonely in his confusion against his papa, lonely in his false hatred towards his sister, and lonely in his hated love towards a certain Kaneki.

While Ayato continue to convulse, Kaneki had turned toward the other ghoul with a murderous look in his grey eyes.

Nico smiled and licked the blood off his kagune.

“Mm, delicious. Want a taste?”

Yelling, Kaneki shot out his own rinkaku and fought to spear Nico.

As he dodged and attacked, Kaneki couldn’t help but worry about the sapphire -haired ghoul behind him.

His precious and strong-willed Ayato, hurt once again.

When the fight was completed, Kaneki had successfully pinned Nico against the wall, a glare melted onto his face.

“Disgusting. Traitor. You’ve hurt him and now, I’m going to hurt you.”

Wrapping his rinkaku around Nico’s kagune, Kaneki pulled as hard as he could and was satisfied to hear the sound of the muscle being torn from Nico’s back.

A harsh screech escaped Nico’s throat as he felt his back being ripped apart violently.

When the blood dripping affair was completed, the ghoul was slumped on the ground, dead with his pathetic kagune draped in his lap.

“Pathetic,” Kaneki spat at Nico before turning to face Ayato.

“Oh Ayato.”

Stepping towards the boy, Kaneki sighed and picked Ayato up in his arms, a sad chuckle on his lips.

When Kaneki finally reached the Aogiri dorm he and Ayato shared, he opened the door and laid the injured ghoul on the bed.

Sighing, he gently eased off Ayato’s boots and took of the unconscious boy’s shirt to check his wounds.

Carefully skimming his fingers over Ayato’s pale back, he clenched his teeth in anger as he studied the gaping wound in Ayato’s stomach, which was thankfully beginning to heal itself.

After an hour passed, Ayato escaped his tomb of unconsciousness and looked down with a headache at a certain ghoul sleeping against him, a protective arm around Ayato’s waist.

“Kaneki Ken,” he breathed, stroking the ghoul’s hair.

Woken by the movement, the aforementioned lifted up his head, his eyes dazed with sleep and relief.

“Ayato?”, he asked before lifting up the boy and pressing him against the wall.

“Yes.”

“Thank goodness your-”

A pair of cool lips stopped the words from slipping away from his mouth, and as soon as he got over his shock, Kaneki found himself kissing back with just as much force.

Lips, tongues, skin, gasps. A collection of relieved emotions pointed out of him and threatened to crush Ayato.

“I love you,” Kaneki whispered.

“I love you, idiot.”

Aries - It hurts to become

Aries is the transparent canvas, while neighbor sign Pisces is the 12 toned water crystal that infuses the rainbow of every zodiac. These signs are almost Siamese in their divinity, the former fresh from heaven, the closest emanation of the mind of god; and the latter wandering through incarnation holding onto memories of heaven. The child is held under the protective arms of his Parent, unconsciously guarded due to his primitiveness and watched over like a newborn still sparkling with the left over energies of initial creation. Aries is the initial impulse of god, emanating through their famous impulsive streaks. Did the creator plan and map out the big bang? Or was it a fierce, spontaneous eruption, the very elation of coming into being? The impulsive ether of Aries, cascading in intensity, surge from an inner fire to explode like a nebula in will to become, create, experience. This inner pulse is infused with the divinity, an electricity that gives the soul movement. Aries in their very being, contemplating the dripping energy streams and pure aggression, the rhythmic temper of the universe burst like the initial force. The indwelling explosions that cascade through their pours and breathe fire into their fingertips, are the resonant spots of the big bang, the ultimate Aries ecstasy. Aries is a birthplace, the divine illumination of being and the opening creative process, like a cosmic dawn. This is the blank piece of paper that opens the door to manifestation and ruptures into the celestial zodiac artwork. What may be perceived as efforts of self sabotage or conscious destruction on behalf of the Aries individual is the process of bridge burning to build a new underground tunnel. The big bang cannot have been a formulaic, controlled process. It was likely wild, loud and excruciating. The temperamental outbursts of Aries, the flame throwing and demolition emanate the ferocious, furious initial detonation. There is a high resonant energy in Aries individuals, and this is the throttling first life force, the painful procedure of becoming and negotiating indwelling explosives, little, though constant big bangs. These are little, though constant divine surges, like god’s first memory replaying over and over throughout them. 
-Cherry

8

SUPERHERO 101

Lesson 10: How to kick back and relax for a while.

“I haven’t been this relaxed in forever!”

Lesson 9

There was another knock on your door, and you let out a loud groan. “God damn, Sam! I said one more minute!” you called, pulling on your dress.

“(Y/N), it’s been five minutes. We’re going to be late!” he called, pounding on your door again. Letting out a sigh, you quickly grabbed your over the shoulder bag, and swiped on one last coat of lipstick. You flung open the door, Sam’s hand poised to knock once more. His mouth dropped open at the sight of you, not used to seeing you all dolled up.

You were wearing a pretty white dress that fell to your knees, and  yellow daisies were sprinkled over it (and Sam couldn’t tell if they were part of your dress, or if you grew them). Your hair was is loose waves, and your lips were a bright, mesmerizing red. There was a light blush on your cheeks, your eyelids sparkled, and your eyeliner was winged. You looked like a perfect tableau.

Sam opened his mouth, then closed it, and repeated the action three times. Rhodey, who was leaning on the wall next to your door, let out a low whistle. “Why, (Y/N), you look absolutely amazing,” he said, a proud look in his eyes.

“Thanks, James,” you answered, giving him a bright smile. Sam was still staring at you in shock, and you rolled your eyes. “Come on, Sam! We’re going to be late!” you mocked, letting out an exasperated sigh.

Rhodey roared in laughter, while Sam snapped out of his trance, blushing slightly. “Yeah, let’s go,” he grumbled, and walked away, leaving you and Rhodey to laugh.

~~~~

An hour laughter, you had finally arrived in the city: New York City. You breathed in the city air as you stepped the SUV. The rest of the Avengers filed, and Pietro’s eyes widened as he gazed upon the city for the first time. “Bozhe,” he whispered. “It’s so big.” he fidgeted in his baggy shirt and skinny jeans, trying to look at everything at once.

You let out a small laugh at his amazement. “Sure is,” you agreed, wrapping an arm around his waist. “Welcome to one of the most beautiful cities in the world, Pietro.”

The Sokovian’s attention drifted down to you, and he leaned down. “I think I’ve seen something that far surpasses New York,” his breath tickled your ear, and your heart sped up, until you thought he could hear it. Leaning back up, Pietro smirked at the blush on your face, and kissed you on the forehead, walking over to his amazed sister. Dear God, he is actually going to give me a heart attack one day, you thought to yourself, as you watched the speedster strut back over to his sister.

“Okay, everyone!” your attention snapped to Steve, as he climbed out of the driver’s seat, standing next to you, and locked the car. He wore a baseball cap low over his face, and a tight shirt that showed off his muscles.  “Today is the first time Pietro and Wanda have been to New York-”

“My first time since I was a kid!” you piped in, but Steve ignored your outburst.

“-so let’s try to show them what makes this city great, okay?” everyone nodded, and Steve finally relaxed, his posture slumping, and his blue eyes growing brighter. “Good. Wanda?” he said, turning towards the brunette haired girl. She nodded, taking a deep breath as red energy dripped from her fingers. It made a bubble around her and Pietro, ruffling her gray dress, before spilling out towards the other Avengers. Natasha flinched slightly as it crept towards her, but she stood still as it engulfed her and Clint. Sam and Rhodey were next, before it finally reached Steve and you. From the look on his face, you could tell he was a bit wary of the idea, and you squeezed his hand, giving him a smile. He smiled back, as the red energy finally covered you and it felt like your fog and it felt like she was in control. and the lion was jealous as she wanted that wanted control, she wanted to feel power.

“Can no one see us now?” you asked, breaking the silence.

Wanda frowned, as if trying to find the words to express it. “Not exactly,” she answered, her voice slow and almost muffled. “Our faces and voices are disguised, so no one but us can see truth.”

“That’s so cool!” you exclaimed, and everyone laughed (to your chagrin).

Once Wanda’s spell was cast, everyone slowly started to move. Sam and Steve guided Wanda and Pietro through the city (They were so cute, you thought to yourself), while Rhodey chimed in every now and then with a piece of information they forgot. You hung in the back with Clint and Natasha. Clint had one arm slung around your waist, and the other around Nat’s shoulders. They shared stories with you from their SHIELD days, and you told them stories from your thief days.

“-so Remy shows up, half naked and hungover, looking for his belt, scaring the hell out of me, and I nearly sent him straight to hell!” you finished, tears leaking from your eyes from laughing so hard. Clint was doubled over in laughter, while Nat shook her head, but her amusement showed on her face.

“Did you get the diamond?” she asked, her lips twitching into a smile at your red face.

You shook your head, trying to catch your breath. “No,” you finally said, your voice breathy. “Remy was so drunk that while he was grabbing it, he knocked it over, and it shattered into a million pieces!” Clint was just catching his breath, when had another fit of laughter. I haven’t been this relaxed in forever, you thought to yourself, as a gentle sea breeze ruffled your dress, filling your nose with the smell of salt and comfort.

“Oh, God!” he wheezed, standing up, and wiping tears from his face. “That sounds like something Gumbo would do.”

You nodded in agreement, as he wrapped his arm around your waist once again, your nose suddenly filled with the smell of his minty aftershave, and the faint smell of Nat’s sweet lavender perfume on his cheek. “Exactly! So when we return to the hotel…” the peppiness and laughter drained out of your voice as you froze in the street, gazing at a closed store.

Clint was yanked back when you stopped, and he sent his best friend a curious glance. Your eyes were wide as you looked at the closed store in front of you. Jean’s Books, it read, and faint flowers could be seen on the fading red sign. Tears glistened in your eyes, and fire leapt in your hair. “(Y/N)?” he asked softly, putting a hand on your shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Steve looked back, and he frowned at the scene. Clint saw Tasha give a tiny shake of her head, giving them a sign to stop, before he turned his attention back to you.

“This was her store,” your voice was small when you answered, and the archer noticed the slight shaking of the ground beneath you. “Before she died.”

Clarity sparked in his eyes, and he pulled you into his arms, and you didn’t object. “Ah, (Y/N), I’m so sorry, kiddo,” he whispered into your ear, and you pulled back into reality, as you shook in his strong embrace. You saw Nat out of the corner of your eye, giving you a sympathetic smile, before snarling at a couple who was staring at you too long. But you could care less. You were stuck in the memory of-

You knew you could help her. If Logan would just let you talk to her, just let you talk to her, to make her see that you were both fire, but she could be good fire with you. But he just pushed you away, instructing you to stay down, and under no circumstances, look up, because he had had to do it. You nodded, and you heard the chink of his claws. And you looked up and you saw Logan with his claws buried in your sister and the world on fire and her eyes were black and blank and they stared at you and you scraped your fingernails on Logan’s healing face and you rain. You screamed and screamed and the earth shook and now you were on fire too like her and water sizzled and now you would become the queen of the sky and you felt like you were dying too and you ran and ran, thinking she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s dead ,she’s dead, she’s dead, she’s gone, she’s in a million pieces, she’s dead and she’s never coming back. You could have saved her but he killed her, and she’s dead and gone and she’s never coming back to you. Your sister was dead and your family was dead to you, too.

-of when your world was turned upside down. You could faintly hear Steve answer a phone, and Wanda and Pietro murmuring in Sokovian, and Sam and Rhodey saying what a poor girl. But Clint pulled you back into reality as you took a shuddering breath, pushing away old memories, and turning away from the store.

“(Y/N)?” Clint murmured, pulling away from you to brush away the tears and your cheek. “Are you okay?” his eyes searched yours, and you counted to ten, before nodding. He let out a sigh of relief, pulling you back into his embrace and you couldn’t tell if this was his protective instincts or something else.

“Guys,” Steve voice broke you out of your reverie, and you looked up. His blue eyes met yours, a silent conversation happening. You gave him a watery smile, and you could see him visibly relax, before focusing on the task at hand. “We have a situation.”

AN: Wow, that was a lot darker than I imagined.

Mind over Matter?

About 8 years ago, I was a thriving, full time student with a double major, a full time job, a partner, and a great social life. I slept about 5-6 hours a night, went jogging or swimming at the gym every morning before class, went to class, then went to work, had date night or met up with friends, and then came home and studied and went to bed. I spent my weekends working, studying, bowling, and everything else neurotypical people get to do. 

My chronic fatigue crept in, like when you take a shower and ever so slightly raise the temperature every few minutes, until the water is scalding hot and you don’t even notice. I got pneumonia, and I just couldn’t seem to shake it. Weeks later, I still felt like my energy was slowly dripping out of me like through a microscopic tear in an overfilled garbage bag. Over time, the pressure built, until one day I realized it was a gaping hole and energy was flooding out and spilling everywhere, much faster than I could refill it, and I could barely muster the energy to put on pants, much less go to class. 

I went from doctor to doctor. They ran so many tests I think House himself would call it excessive. Nothing. They chalked it off to stress and told me to “chill”. 

Over the past eight years, I have tried everything to regain the energy I lost, but it’s almost like when I patched up my body, there were just too many holes to plug, and no matter what I do, at some point I’m going to be like that dilapidated wooden boat in a storm, and the patches will burst and I’ll sink for good this time. 

When I say I tried everything, I mean I tried a hell of a lot of things. I travelled. I crossed a great many glorious things off my bucket list. I had adventures that would make a sailor pale and I’ve slain monsters and demons of all kinds. I have pushed my body to the extreme, seeking that high, seeking to regain the feeling I lost. Seeking that feeling of awakeness, wanting to feel like my entire body is truly alive, and not in a coma anymore. 

For 8 years, I have been trying to wake up. I have chronic fatigue syndrome, which is basically what doctors tell you you have when they can’t figure out what is wrong with you. Sometimes they chalk it off to PTSD, but since it pre-dates my PTSD, they just shrug their shoulders with that expression that says, “tja. What can you do? Life sucks for some people.” 

They say, “try diet and exercise”. I eat no processed food. Everything I eat is homemade from scratch, with farm fresh ingredients. I consume no soda, and no alcohol. For 1 year, I didn’t even drink coffee, or consume any kind of stimulant (i.e. energy drinks). I don’t smoke, and I exercise regularly. 

But that doesn’t make me awake. Nothing wakes my brain up. Sometimes, when I’m on my third can of Rockstar Energy Juice, and I can already smell colors and see sounds, I think I can feel it stirring, like it’s rolling over in bed and thinking about opening its eyes. 

But it never does. Finally, I had enough. I have tried diet and exercise. I am a physically healthy person by any doctor’s definition. I have immaculate bloodwork results. I have an immaculate nutrition schedule. I have a perfectly organized sleep schedule. There is no reason for me to be so tired, for me to be asleep inside. There is no earthly reason for me to fall asleep at 6 PM and wake up at 7 AM disoriented and confused because I fell into another sleep coma and still can’t get out of bed. 

So, I took matters into my own hands. I did every doctor’s worst nightmare. I googled. I googled a lot. I pulled up medical papers and human medicine books, and I came up with a medical solution. 

I made an appointment with my doctor and told her point blank I found a medication online that I think will stabilize my illness. It is not classified as a restricted medication, and its dependency risk index is labelled at “very low” (in short, it is less addictive than caffeine). She looked it up in her database, and found that even though its intended use is for a slightly different neurological condition that causes the exact same symptoms that I experience, medically speaking it should be able to treat my condition. 

She wrote me a prescription, under the condition that I go in for a neurological consult with a neurologist to confirm 1) the diagnosis and 2) cancel out any other potential conditions (that were already cancelled out 8 years ago but who knows maybe I have a tumor now). 

It has been a week since I’ve started taking this medication, and I can finally feel it, for the first time in 8 years. I am awake. I’m not bursting with energy, I’m not restless, jumpy, giddy, nor do I have strange heart palpitations or uncomfortable sensations on my skin. I’m just… awake. 

I go to bed at 10 pm and I wake up at 5:30 with no alarm. My eyes open, my body is well rested, and I am ready to get up and go about my day. When I read a page in a textbook, I absorb what I am reading and comprehend it without reading it 8 times. I do not feel my brain shut down in the process. In the afternoon, I am still awake. When I sit in the lecture hall, I hear what the professor is saying, and I am able to connect the dots and follow the red thread. 

Over the past week, my caffeine intake has dropped from 4 cups of coffee a day to half a cup, and the past two days I’ve only consumed it for the flavor and out of habit. 

It’s not a miracle pill. It doesn’t make me feel like I can take on the world. It doesn’t make me feel like I can ace my college education like a genius with an eidetic memory. I don’t wake up bursting with energy that I don’t know what to do with. I still have to force myself to be disciplined in my studies. I still have to motivate myself to sit down and summarize my notes. Somewhere down the line, I went from being predominantly neurotypical (I’ve always had aspergers but that has never affected my studies. Quite the opposite, actually) to someone who is mentally ill. 

But now my brain is awake, and ready to fight back. The medication has torn it from its coma, and it is saying, “enough. You want to do this, and so you shall.” 

See, mind over matter only works if your mind is awake enough to fight. Mind over matter only applies if your brain is healthy enough to pull that weight. Telling me it’s all in my mind is absolutely true, if, by that, you mean that my mind is physically sick and needs medical care just like every other part of my body. 

Now that my brain is getting the medication it needs, diet and exercise become more relevant and more important. My brain is finally awake and calling the shots like it used to, and my body is healthy enough to go along for the ride. 

Aries - It hurts to become

Aries is the transparent canvas, while neighbor sign Pisces is the 12 toned water crystal that infuses the rainbow of every zodiac. These signs are almost Siamese in their divinity, the former fresh from heaven, the closest emanation of the mind of god; and the latter wandering through incarnation holding onto memories of heaven. The child is held under the protective arms of his Parent, unconsciously guarded due to his primitiveness and watched over like a newborn still sparkling with the left over energies of initial creation. Aries is the initial impulse of god, emanating through their famous impulsive streaks. Did the creator plan and map out the big bang? Or was it a fierce, spontaneous eruption, the very elation of coming into being? The impulsive ether of Aries, cascading in intensity, surge from an inner fire to explode like a nebula in will to become, create, experience. This inner pulse is infused with the divinity, an electricity that gives the soul movement. Aries in their very being, contemplating the dripping energy streams and pure aggression, the rhythmic temper of the universe burst like the initial force. The indwelling explosions that cascade through their pours and breathe fire into their fingertips, are the resonant spots of the big bang, the ultimate Aries ecstasy. Aries is a birthplace, the divine illumination of being and the opening creative process, like a cosmic dawn. This is the blank piece of paper that opens the door to manifestation and ruptures into the celestial zodiac artwork. What may be perceived as efforts of self sabotage or conscious destruction on behalf of the Aries individual is the process of bridge burning to build a new underground tunnel. The big bang cannot have been a formulaic, controlled process. It was likely wild, loud and excruciating. The temperamental outbursts of Aries, the flame throwing and demolition emanate the ferocious, furious initial detonation. There is a high resonant energy in Aries individuals, and this is the throttling first life force, the painful procedure of becoming and negotiating indwelling explosives, little, though constant big bangs. These are little, though constant divine surges, like god’s first memory replaying over and over throughout them. 
-Cherry

Aries is the transparent canvas, while neighbor sign Pisces is the 12 toned water crystal that infuses the rainbow of every zodiac. These signs are almost Siamese in their divinity, the former fresh from heaven, the closest emanation of the mind of god; and the latter wandering through incarnation holding onto memories of heaven. The child is held under the protective arms of his Parent, unconsciously guarded due to his primitiveness and watched over like a newborn still sparkling with the left over energies of initial creation. Aries is the initial impulse of god, emanating through their famous impulsive streaks. Did the creator plan and map out the big bang? Or was it a fierce, spontaneous eruption, the very elation of coming into being? The impulsive ether of Aries, cascading in intensity, surge from an inner fire to explode like a nebula in will to become, create, experience. This inner pulse is infused with the divinity, an electricity that gives the soul movement. Aries in their very being, contemplating the dripping energy streams and pure aggression, the rhythmic temper of the universe burst like the initial force. The indwelling explosions that cascade through their pours and breathe fire into their fingertips, are the resonant spots of the big bang, the ultimate Aries ecstasy. Aries is a birthplace, the divine illumination of being and the opening creative process, like a cosmic dawn. This is the blank piece of paper that opens the door to manifestation and ruptures into the celestial zodiac artwork. What may be perceived as efforts of self sabotage or conscious destruction on behalf of the Aries individual is the process of bridge burning to build a new underground tunnel. The big bang cannot have been a formulaic, controlled process. It was likely wild, loud and excruciating. The temperamental outbursts of Aries, the flame throwing and demolition emanate the ferocious, furious initial detonation. There is a high resonant energy in Aries individuals, and this is the throttling first life force, the painful procedure of becoming and negotiating indwelling explosives, little, though constant big bangs. These are little, though constant divine surges, like god’s first memory replaying over and over throughout them. 

2

Josh Kline, ‘Quality of Life’, 2013

1. ‘Energy Drip’ - IV Bag, Red Bull, Yerba Mate, Emergen-C, Sugar, Spirulina, Provigil, Gasoline

2. ‘Clean Drip’ - IV Bag, Dial Soap, Purell, Bleach, Lemon, Cayenne, Honey

"Love in London" - One Direction Preference

Z a y n: The city felt alive, the air around you dripping with energy and life. The sun continually peaked out from behind the white clouds covering the sky, gracing you with its presence. The air was warm, kissing your bare arms and legs, as the breeze tickled the hem of your sundress. Your eyes flitted all around, unable to rest until they’d taken in all there was to see. Cars dotted the surrounding streets, taxis and mopeds whirring past in a rush. Men and women dressed in shades of spring and summer filed past you, their lives an exciting mystery to you. Was it the oversized sunglasses you wore, or was everything in London painted in alluring shades of shimmering gold? Eyes falling to a quaint flower shop, you peered down momentarily at the tourist guide open on your iPhone. You glanced back up just a moment too late, and crashed abruptly into an unknown man. Heel clad feet slipping out from under you, you fell to the ground with a plop, butt hitting the cement ground. “Oh shit, I’m so sorry. Are you all right?” he asked, accent low and heavy as he extended a hand out to you. Juggling the large bouquet of yellow daisies in one arm, he pulled you effortlessly to your feet, steadying you with his free hand. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, the color in his eyes appearing like caramel in the afternoon sun. “I’m fine,” you murmured, righting your handbag over your shoulder once more, “just a little embarrassed.” With a soft smile, he plucked a single flower from the bunch, and offered it to you. “For you,” he hummed, “a beautiful flower for a beautiful girl.” Thanking him with a soft smile, and a glimmer in your eyes, your eyes trailed longingly after him as he walked away. With a smirk, and a wink, he hoisted himself onto a black motorcycle parked a few feet away. With a rev of his engine, he was gone, leaving you stunned. You had hoped new city would warrant new adventures, but you never imagined your adventure would come in the form of a handsome, foreign stranger.

L i a m:  You scanned each shop sign, the words you searched for seeming to elude you.  Nothing looked familiar as you walked along the busy street. You did a full three-sixty degree spin, swearing this was the place you’d come just yesterday. The avenue that was home to the quaint, and quiet coffee shop, but as you stood in the middle of the sidewalk nothing seemed to be where it should. You began to feel too much like a lost tourist. Rounding the corner, you promised yourself that if the shop didn’t appear along the next bend, you would pick up your pride and ask someone for directions. Just then, you spotted it, small and tucked between two larger shops, its frosty glass windows inviting you in with a warm welcome. With a satisfied smile, you crossed the street, the sound of your sandals keeping time to your strut against the pavement. The second you pushed through the doors the aroma of vanilla and chai wafted up your nose, greeting you like an old friend. Pushing your metal sunglasses swiftly into your flowing hair, you looked up at the extensive drink menu. “What’ll it be?” the barista asked, interrupting your pondering thoughts. “Oh, uh. Grande espresso, please,” you murmured, smiling politely at the young worker behind the counter. Minutes later, you turned to leave, and smacked directly into someone, coffee falling from your grasp and clattering to the floor. “Shit, I’m sorry,” his low, sultry accent chimed, quickly steadying you with his strong grasp. Your stunned eyes met his, the familiar color of caramel blinking back at you. Suddenly, your heart did a backflip, the memory of the day before floating back to you. “Hey, you’re the girl from the flower shop,” he hummed, a smile kissing his pouty pink lips. “The girl you knocked down,” you giggled, smirking as his cheeks ran pink with blush. “Yeah, sorry about that. Twice in two days. That’s gotta be some sort of record,” he chortled, looking down at his shoes in embarrassment,” so, how about you let me make it up to you?” Another flip attacked your heart, sending it beating into a frenzy. “Yeah, ok. I’d like that,” you whispered, nodding as your own cheeks flushed pink. An hour, a new large coffee, and a scone later you sauntered down the street, head held high and a date for tomorrow night, new confidence in your step. 

N i a l l:  Lips pressed to the sleek rim of your wine glass, you smiled into the deep red merlot, eyes raking in the sight of the man you’d only just met two days earlier. The man with the alluring accent, and the sweet, kind eyes. He smiled back at you taking his own long, satisfying sip of the potent, red wine. “So, (Y/N),” he hummed, cutting into the impressive cut of steak on his plate before him, “tell me something about yourself.” You dabbed the edge of your linen napkin to your lipstick stained lips, shrugging nonchalantly. “There isn’t a whole lot to tell,” you confessed, tucking a strand of hair securely behind one ear, “this is my first time in London. First time away from home ever, actually.” His lips pulled into a smile, a light filling the depths of his topaz blue eyes. He couldn’t pry his gaze away from you. Every move you made, every quirk of your lips, every laugh and every gesture had him captivated. You stopped mid sentence, gazing back at him across the candle lit table. “What?” you whispered, becoming self-conscious under the intensity of his gaze, “do I have something on my face?” He let out a relaxed chuckle, resting his elbows on the cloth-covered table as he leaned in closer. “No, you’re perfect,” he crooned, slipping his hand through yours, “and intoxicating to me. A mystery just waiting to be solved. I want to know everything about you, even if it takes all night.” Stroking your smooth skin with his calloused thumb, you could feel the blush creep along your cheekbones. The two of talked for hours, voices quiet, like the words you shared were secrets meant only for the other’s ears. There were countless smiles, dozens of muffled giggles, and a smattering of infatuated gazes shared. Two bottles of wine later, you couldn’t help but smile at the heat of his right hand resting at the small of your back, as he guided you outside. The night air was cool, the breeze soothing your alcohol-clouded mind as he expertly hailed you a taxi. “So,” he simpered, stepping exceptionally close to you, hands clinging desperately to your hipbones, “can I see you tomorrow? Show you the real London?” You nodded, your hands looping around his neck, as your fingers slid into his styled blonde hair. With a satisfied smirk, he eased his lips ever closer, anxiously kissing you.       

H a r r y:  You stepped out of the hotel lobby doors, the sun finally making an appearance in the cloud peppered sky. Instantly your lips formed a smile, heart performing its familiar backflip. The sight of the young and handsome, British man your heart now leapt for, sat casually, resting against the leather bike seat of the black, motorcycle. Sashaying hurriedly over to his side, he rose to his full height, while you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck. His own, impressively long arms encompassing your waist as he lifted your feet effortlessly from the ground. He rested his forehead flush with yours, emerald eyes reaching a new depth of green as he carefully covered your lips with his eager kisses. “Hi,” he breathed, voice barely above a whisper, hands refusing to relinquish you from their grasp. “Hi,” you echoed, smiling giddily, and quickly pecking his lips once more. Chuckling, he tucked a fallen strand of your hair behind your ear, slender fingers brushing adoringly along your soft jawline, as you got momentarily lost in each other’s gaze. “Well, should we go?” he laughed, bringing you back to reality. “Yeah, where to first?” you quipped, blushing with uncontainable excitement. “You’ll see,” he purred, dimples forming near his lips as he handed you the sleek, silver bike helmet. Following his lead, you swung your leg over the back of the bike, positioning your body tight to his back as he roared the engine to life. Arms folded securely around his middle, you pressed your nose to the back of his t-shirt, losing yourself in the musky scent of the cologne that clung to the cotton fabric. Briefly he touched a hand to yours where they clutched his stomach, a silent message of reverence and love that spoke louder than any words. The city blazed past as he drove down the bustling streets. Buildings and trees blurring together in a mass of beautiful colors. As day quickly turned to night, you smiled pleasantly to yourself. Pulling back to the spot he’d parked just hours earlier, you both clambered off the hard seat. Neither of you uttered a word, unwilling to let the night draw to an end. With an alluring smile, you took his hand in yours and led him into the towering, brick front building.     

L o u i s:  Heavy eyelids slowly fluttered open, greeted with the sight of his deep, sea blue eyes. The comforting heat of his body encompassed you, muscular arm draped lazily over your hipbone. His smile was soft as he took you in, memorizing your face. “Good morning,” he hummed, accent laced with sleep. “Morning,” you wheedled, bringing a hand to his hair, ruffling the tousled fringe that fell across his forehead. “You are so beautiful,” he purred huskily, lips curling into a playful grin as he pressed his smooth lips to the base of your neck, “so incredibly beautiful, and sexy. You make my heart beat a mile a minute. I’m hooked on every part of you.” He spoke softly, pressing hot, open kisses between each word. “Louis,” you murmured, desperation seeping into your voice, heart pounding, and cracking all at once. His words were a siren call to your heart, like a missing key that unlocked a feeling you’d never known. But you knew, in a few hours you’d be on a plane, this trip destined to be nothing but a blissful memory. Slowly, you pulled away, “I have to pack,” you whispered, moving to the edge of the queen-sized bed. In one swift motion, he pulled you back to him, crushing his lips desperately to yours. Foreheads pressed to one another, you saw the sadness cloud his clear eyes, his unspoken words etched upon his irises. “Let me take you,” he muttered, fingers tangling in your silky hair, “to the airport. I want to spend as much time with you as possible, before you go.” You nodded, biting back the tears threatening at the back of your eyes. All too soon, you found yourself walking hand in hand through the airport terminal, luggage gripped tightly in your free hand. Reaching your gate number, you both stopped, staring at each other. “This has been the best week of my life,” you choked, tears brimming in your throat. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you hugged him close, feeling the pounding of his heart match your own. “Goodbye Louis,” you whispered, softly kissing his lips before pulling away. “Wait,” he mumbled, pulling you back, “please. What can I say to make you stay?” You stood there, teary eyes locked on his, when he whispered, “I love you, (Y/N),” and crashed his lips to yours.  

anonymous asked:

Sheila, I need some solavelan fluff - I'm dying for more of your wonderful writing to keep me preoccupied.

“I can see the Keep!”

Solas looked up towards the cliff top where Cole had called down to them, his eyes creased against the dust in the hot wind. The sun glared back at him, trying to find every crevice of his skin to burn it. He pulled the wrapped shawl around him tighter, letting Dorian breeze by him comfortably on their way up the steep path. 

The Tevinter didn’t seem even a little fazed by the scorching heat of the western approach, but that wasn’t something he was surprised by. 

The Inquisitor however…

The delicate panting that reached his ears as Ellana caught up had his brow furrowing beneath his cowl. 

She passed him without a glance, to focused on the trek, her hair drawn up in a tied mess with sweat glistening on her brow. She was covered  with dust and sand and her shoulders lumped with the weight of it. 

When they reached the top and met with Cole, it was he who suggested a rest. Dorian laughed but didn’t object, speaking jovially to the young spirit of Compassion about the memories of brighter days than this. 

He found her leaning heavily against the rocks. And was touched to see that despite her struggle she still smiled at the sight of him. 

He pulled the shroud from his mouth before igniting a fistful of magic, a brilliant blue wisp washed out by the light of the sun. “Come here, da’len.”

She seemed to know his intent and while he expected her embarrassment and modesty, he did not expect the excited relief and the weight of her as she practically rushed to him. Too far gone now to be timid.

Her body leaned forward out to him, her head pressing into his palm. 

The frost in his fingers twisted about her face and her body seemed to melt with a long and heady sigh. 

He laughed shaking his head. “You should have already done this, you are a mage are you not?”

She shook her head, moving his palm with the action. “No… I’m too tired to cast anything…”

“You should have cast it before you let yourself get exhausted.”

She made a muffled noise at his chiding, using her weight to move past his hand to draw close and press her forehead onto his chest. 

He stilled, heat in his ears and dryness in his throat that had nothing to do with the desert air. But he continued, dragging tendrils of ice down the back of her neck before hovering his hand above her spine. 

She shifted, her limp arms swinging upward to grasp the top of her tunic. “Do you think you could—”

His hands shifted hers away and his eyes caught sight of her bare back down her shirt, slick and breathing hotly. He brought his fingers around the curve of her collar, letting the tingling energy of the magic drip from his fingers. 

She calmed her panting a little, head turning so he could see the top of her nose and her closed eyes against his chest. “Oh– that’s so nice…”

“I shouldn’t have to do this for you.”

He could see her smile amusedly even as she faked her pleading. “No, please hahren— you’re so much better at—”

His will turned sharper and his magic snapped quickly to form the wet ice in his hand before dropping it down her shirt.

She yelped, shivering uncontrollably as she arched her back. “Solas!”

He laughed loudly, watching her try and grasp the wet cold along her spine with a adoring expression of frustration and amusement. 

“If you’re feeling quite refreshed now, we should be on our way.”

She tried to glare at him as she shimmied her back, but could not stop the playful smile on her lips.