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Literature Text
I want to be the rainbow
that takes a cloud
and turns it into something beautiful.
I want to be the sunshine
that beams off freshly dyed hair,
reflecting their individuality to the world.
I want to be the lyrics
to the song that saved your life
and kept you on this Earth.
I want to be your thought
to overcome your struggles,
to keep going and never give up.
I want to be the tattoo
on your decorative canvas
living on for those who have died.
I want to be the life
that flows through your veins,
your motive to go on.
I want to be the characters
in the stories that you love,
the lively ones that bring you joy.
I want to be your last glimmer of hope
that sparks in you soul
when you think about leaving this world.
I want to be the happy tears
that flow down your face
when you finally meet your heroes.
I want to be the shimmering paint
on an artistic canvas,
creating a work of beauty.
I want to be your creativity
that writes your poems
and paints your pictures.
I want to be the home-like atmosphere
you feel when you walk into a baseball diamond
or a concert venue.
I want to be acceptance
and love everyone as they are
so they can be as happy as I am.
I want to be life,
I want to create life,
I want to embrace life.
that takes a cloud
and turns it into something beautiful.
I want to be the sunshine
that beams off freshly dyed hair,
reflecting their individuality to the world.
I want to be the lyrics
to the song that saved your life
and kept you on this Earth.
I want to be your thought
to overcome your struggles,
to keep going and never give up.
I want to be the tattoo
on your decorative canvas
living on for those who have died.
I want to be the life
that flows through your veins,
your motive to go on.
I want to be the characters
in the stories that you love,
the lively ones that bring you joy.
I want to be your last glimmer of hope
that sparks in you soul
when you think about leaving this world.
I want to be the happy tears
that flow down your face
when you finally meet your heroes.
I want to be the shimmering paint
on an artistic canvas,
creating a work of beauty.
I want to be your creativity
that writes your poems
and paints your pictures.
I want to be the home-like atmosphere
you feel when you walk into a baseball diamond
or a concert venue.
I want to be acceptance
and love everyone as they are
so they can be as happy as I am.
I want to be life,
I want to create life,
I want to embrace life.
Literature
Dragon Age: Reflections
Title: Reflections
Author: SeventhRain
Game: Dragon Age: Origins
Characters/pairing: Zevran
Disclaimer: The character of Zevran Arainai is property of Bioware.
Zevran Arainai saw his reflection and couldn’t help but grin. Maker’s breath, but I'm beautiful! His elven blood gave him a lithe but well-toned build, with smooth brown skin laced with seductive tattoos. Golden hair framed a devilishly handsome and tattooed face, long and silky, and loose if not for the one braid he kept tied behind his head. It helped him in many ways: luring others into his bed, conning someone out of their coin or possessions, or even softening his
Literature
House of Hades, Prediction comp.
PERCY
"Unnugh…" Percy moaned, rubbing his forehead and sitting up. Dark blotches filled his eyes and he leaned back slightly.
"Eeuurgh", someone copied him. He glanced over in panic, to find his girlfriend, Annabeth, uncurling and grasping firmly onto his hand. Her makeshift cast, from when she'd broken her ankle, had collapsed next to her.
Percy went straight into panic-mode. Was Annabeth alive? (Duh. She had just 'Eeuurghed' at him). Where were they? (He had no idea) and was everything in one piece?
After shifting about a bit, he concluded that he hadn't broken anything, but he'd have nice bruise on his bum tomorrow morning.
'If I l
Literature
His Sin
He was watching her quietly, with a faint smile, as she was sitting in the library, studying yet another Thedosian language. She was amazing. Three days ago, she was still recovering from her injuries and now she is already up and about.
He always found her strong, at least mentally strong. In all the years he had to watch her, she never cried, never despaired. And she managed to get past him and the other templar at least four times already, if not counting the window accident last week. She was a mage and his feelings for her were forbidden; he was well aware of that. From the looks of it, she was also a lot younger than him, but he wasn't
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