kenis

sO HERE’S THE THiNG

when pike finally accepts that she’s the high priestess of sarenrae’s vasselheim temple, her connection to sarenrae gets blown the fuck open. it’s nearly painful, the sudden flood of divine energy and the weight of sarenrae’s attention on her, and it takes several minutes for pike to adjust. pike is extremely glad to be leaned against a low wall they had yet to begin reconstruction on, otherwise she may have fallen over.

she clutches her holy symbol as her heart rate finally slows back toward normal. her head pounds, and as soon as she thinks that it hurts the pain is gone. pike squeezes her holy symbol tighter and thanks sarenrae for the healing.

sarenrae speaks to her gently, aware that her voice can be too much at times, and thanks pike for her work continued work in restoring the temple and taking sarenrae’s followers in her charge. she confesses that pike’s journey will be rough, and that many new experiences are going to test her will, strength, and resolve in the coming months and beyond. 

pike feels calmer, more sure of herself and the monumental task of restoring the temple than she had since agreeing to help. she is somewhat prepared when more followers trickle in to assist with the restoration, mostly individuals but the occasional family until there are nearly twenty of them working on the temple when it had started with just a small handful. 

she stumbles, everyone does, but as the days turn to weeks and stretch toward months, her confidence and compassion grows as the temple comes together. 

guess who started writing an au where pike managed to acquire a group of children at the temple of sarenrae without even freaking trying

it’s me. i’m writing an au where pike somehow managed to acquire a group of children and they’re nicknamed “pike’s ducks” because all fucking five of them follow her around 

Fun stuff

Mos beni gafe te hapni tumblr ne bus sidomos kur keni pleq ngjitur se dalin poste naked dhe te shofin iher and i can feel qe ne mendjen e tyre mendojn : a brez muti

Ka caste te rralla ne jete kur nje dere hapet e kur jeta ju ofron nje takim qe nuk e prisnit me. Ajo e qenies plotesuese qe ju pranon sic jeni, qe ju merr ne teresi, qe merr me mend dhe pranon kontraditat, frikerat, ndjesite tuaja, inatin, perroin me balte te erret qe ju rrjedh ne mendje. Dhe qe e qeteson ate. Ai qe ju zgjat nje pasqyre, ne te cilen nuk keni me frike te shiheni.

Mjafton nje cast. Nje veshtrim. Nje takim. Per te tronditur nje ekzistence. Njeriu i duhur,ne castin e duhur. Kapricoja, bashkefajtore me rastesine.

Ka caste ne jete kur nje dere hapet dhe kur jeta juaj shket ne drite. Caste te rralla, kur dicka shkycet ne brendesine tuaj. Rrini pezull ne mungese te peshes, ia mbathni ne nje autostrade pa radar. Zgjedhjet behen te kthjelleta, pergjigjet zevendesojne pyetjet, frika ia le vendin dshurise.
Duhet t'i keni njohur keto caste.
Rralle zgjasin.

—  Guillaume Musso - Central Park, faqe 74