Lay it down and give it up. That’s the only way the weight of your heart can decrease and your burden can be made light. He bends down, He takes it, He let’s you rest. My goodness, does He let you rest. Our Lord is good.
Introverted Intuition (Ni): Satya was immediately identified as one of the few capable of mastering light bending architecture. Upon enrollment, she easily grasped the applications of the technology and became one of Vishkar’s top students. She had a far more different, original approach to the subject material, a contributing reason to her being one of the best students.
Extroverted Thinking (Te): After refusal to re create the city’s slums with hard light technology, Satya took charge. She was assigned to an infiltration mission to get some dirt on the Calado company, and get out, to which she was successful.
Introverted Feeling (Fi): She was disgusted when Vishkar was denied opportunity to recreate Rio de Janeiro into a beautiful living area. She swore that Vishkar would help Rio’s people regardless of what it took. Though she holds a strong dislike of killing, she believes her solitary actions are for the greater good. There are times, however, when she questions if the control and order she desires are truly best for humanity.
Extroverted Sensing (Se): She dresses well and cares for her outer appearance. She holds a strong dislike of crowded environments and large social groups.
Dawn breaks, and with it, the ozone tang of reiatsu.
It curls past his cheek just as he releases his hold - an aching, searing, blue - through rows and rows of Hollow. His skin is left warmed.
Rukia comes sliding to a halt, shunpō blurring her edges into violet and light and ink.
“Couldn’t wait just half a fuckin’ second?!”
He barks, grin at his lips; red slick out its’ corners.
She scoffs, bats an eyelid, and the pair exchange swords in one fluid motion.
Hilts to hands - and the shrinking presence of foreign reiatsu in veins - their backs connect.
“Thank fuck you got here—“ He begins, the looming presence of Hollows fringing his vision.
“—‘Bout to go mad at ‘Yuki’s babbling.” Her solidity kindles something inside.
He slips his grip until Zangetsu rests comfortably in his hands, missing the slender mould of Shirayuki more than he cares to admit.
Behind him, he can hear a short hum of approval as Rukia finds her place, too.
“Babbling? At what? That crude nickname you choose to call her?”
Hollow are approaching them - a great, thunderous wave. His muscles coil in anticipation.
“Oh!” He knocks his elbow into her shoulder blade and laughs, “I hear you call him Seaweed.”
She pauses, thin-lipped. “Well…“
“-Zangetsu wants you to know that that offends him.”
Kuchiki Rukia stifles a smile, and turns. Ichigo’s reiatsu falls comfortably over her shoulders - a fierce, licking coat of power too well-suited for her form. But he is too head-strong. Too impatient. Too young.
She is a warrior. Steel, and cut edges, and bite.
The thrill of being prey curls hot up her spine.
As she summons her reiatsu, and lets it pulse - unbridled - to cover their targets in a vast expanse of white ice, the tip of Shirayuki hums under her incantations. Ichigo can feel his very bones vibrate; it’s as if all the cold has been swept into his bloodstream at once, a surge of white, and then little else.
There is a fraction of a second when Ichigo’s shoulders fall; she pictures how slack his jaw has become, and then feels it in the breath of air he lets out. A soft,
Sode no Shirayuki leaves the scent of winter - all clean, and bare, and dauntingly absolute.
It’s a frozen fortress. More than a building and more than something else - something other-worldly, entirely opulent, and something that makes Ichigo’s breath halt against his teeth. He turns them both, then, and presses his lips hotly to hers. Her laugh is stifled by his mouth.
She climbs her fingers to the nape of his neck - up to his hair - then hums, and says, “Didn’t even need your stupid butcher knife.”
“My stupid butcher knife is beautiful-“ He growls, and gives a fierce kiss to her cheek.
“-Wanna race back?”
Aftermaths, like these, they can deal with.
The hot, heavy press of love, their thrusts against each other, hips to hips, breaths on skin and moans trailing ecstasy up skin.
It’s when there’s her, and the moonlight, and sweat-drenched skin, that he feels truly alive, more so than on battlefields, more so than when his heart is beating like a freight train.
This, this, this- he wants to piece together this moment an infinite number of times.
And as he comes undone, and bows into the warmth of her arms, there is little doubt between them both that an infinitum is entirely possible.
Dual blade/ shot gun- January
Scythe/ Crossbow - February
Chainsaw/ Rocket launcher- March
Combat Boots/ Blades - April
Ball chain/ Bomb - May
Cannon/ Arm Gauntlet - June
Shield boomerang/ Pulse gun - July
Yoyo / Whip - August
Pole Axe/ Gun - September
Elements Rode/ Sword -October
Trident/ Sniper Rifle -november
Twin speakers/ pistols - December
- SHIRT COLOR-
Black- Stop time temporarily
White- Control gravity in an area
Green- Control people like puppets
Blue- Talk to animals
Red- Absorb energy
Yellow- Control darkness
Gray- Living weapon
Orange- Summon Fallen warriors
Pink- Control thoughts and telepathy
Light blue- Shape shift
Purple- Jump bodies
Brown- Bend Light
Other- Warp through time and space
Team mate are the last 3 people you Messaged and team name is up to you enjoy!!