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laurageto · 5 months

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Destiny's Knot Chp1 Gojo ღ

ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ ɢᴏᴊᴏ x ꜰᴇᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ꜰᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀ ʙᴏʀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀꜰᴜʟ ᴄʟᴀɴꜱ ɪɴ ᴋʏᴏᴛᴏ.

ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇʏᴇꜱ ʜᴀᴅ ᴏᴘᴇɴᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴅ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇꜰᴏʀɢᴇ ᴀɴ ᴏʟᴅ ᴀʟʟɪᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀɴ ᴇxᴛʀᴇᴍᴇʟʏ ꜱᴜᴄᴄᴇꜱꜱꜰᴜʟ ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʙʀɪɴɢ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛʀᴏɴɢᴇꜱᴛ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅʟɪɴᴇ ɪɴ ᴊᴜᴊᴜᴛꜱᴜ ꜱᴏʀᴄᴇʀᴇʀ ʜɪꜱᴛᴏʀʏ.

ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜᴛᴜʀᴇ ʜᴜꜱʙᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ? ɴᴏɴᴇ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴄᴋʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʀʀᴏɢᴀɴᴛ ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ ɢᴏᴊᴏ.

ɴᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʀᴛᴡᴏʀᴋ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ɪꜱ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴍᴇ. ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛ ɢᴏᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴍᴀᴢɪɴɢ ᴀʀᴛɪꜱᴛꜱ.

ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡ ᴀʟᴏɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴘʟᴏᴛʟɪɴᴇ ꜱᴏ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴘᴏɪʟᴇʀꜱ ᴀʜᴇᴀᴅ ⚠️

ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ (ɴꜱꜰᴡ) ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ:

ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ

ʜᴀʀᴅᴄᴏʀᴇ ꜱᴇx

ᴄʜɪʟᴅʙɪʀᴛʜ

This story will contain a white haired female as you.. please I'd like you to imagine this character as yourself but the hair has a big part of the story plot!

This story will contain some smut, I'll add warnings to the story chapter to let you know when they're coming.

For the sake of this plot line all characters are of consenting age.

I will try to keep chapters on the medium length

㊕

"But mumma.. I don't want to kiss a boy"

You pouted your lips whilst simultaneously frowning. Your fingers nervously laced together neatly on your lap as you finally drew your gaze back to the mirror in front of you.

"Honey you don't have to kiss him" she hummed, smiling softly as she continued to gently comb through your silky ivory locks. "But it's important that this meeting goes well. That means being polite and no funny business"

She stopped brushing and waved the comb authoritatively next to your head. "Y/n are you listening?"

You snapped back from your thoughts as the sound of the plastic instrument tapped against the vanity table in front of you. "Can you tell me the story again?" You looked up at your mother quizzically.

She was a striking woman, every hair on her body was as white as tundric snow, even her eyelashes look like they'd been bitten by frost. She was tall and lean, standing quite a height above the average female. You'd often wonder to yourself what she would look like dressed casual as she was always in formal attire.

Probably the most unnerving of all were her raging scarlet eyes, the crisp crimson engolfing the ebony iris' within.

Yes, to the majority of the world your mother was breathtaking in the most beautiful and unsettling way. Yet to your family and you, this was the look.

This was the way you all looked.

She sighed, sliding the comb through your bangs once more.

"I suppose so"

㊕

Thousands of years ago a young, poor, married couple gave birth to twin boys.

The twins were marvelled from the beginning due to their captivating appearance. Both boys had icy white hair. Illumi, the eldest twin, had fierce ruby orbs whilst Rin, the younger twin, had captivating azure eyes.

Both boys were inseperable and as the years went on their bond grew stronger and stronger. The young family became notorious for the two beautifully unique sons they'd created and soon the household had come into wealth and prosperity.

The months turned into years and the two boys were now men. Both were not only special due to their appearance but honed intense amounts of cursed energy and abilities in the Jujutsu world.

Illumi was able to use his cursed energy to create and manipulate any element.

Whilst training his technique he also became the first ever sorcerer to tame an infernal drake.

Infernal drakes, now called our dragons, are supernatural beings that have the power to destroy cursed spirits with minimal effort. Only special grade cursed objects have the potential to bring one down.

Rin was gifted the cursed ability of limitless, enabling him to destort and manipulate space. The intense aqua of his eyes was formed by his six eyes, allowing him to see the flow of cursed energy, read cursed techniques and apply his cursed energy effectively.

His limitless in combination with six eyes made him forbidible.

Fame, power and wealth immersed their lives and soon they became much to cocky. Each twin thought they could outmatch the other, and it would be to their demise.

The fighting at first was competitive sparring, nothing more than a bit of fun. Each time the battles became more intense and aggressive, the men sometimes walking about with almost mortal wounds.

Their bonds withered as they married away, had children and became more distant from one another. The last fight they ever had was almost the end of them both.

They vowed their families would never again be one.

㊕

"So that's why I have to marry this boy some day?" You leaned your head back to stare up at your mother. She gazed down at you and tapped the comb on the tip of your nose. "It's just a story y/n. But some elements are true... the two great sorcerer houses must unite."

"Come on, let's tidy up this kimono"

The next hour was spent ensuring you looked perfect for your future family.

Your seven year old brain still couldn't comprehend the gravity of the situation and how this meeting would change your life forever.

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starsfic · 3 months

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Summaries:

@draw-of-the-moon's LMK/Ninjago AU: When Red mysteriously disappears, Long Xiaojiao and pregnant Qi Xiaotian have to beat back suitors.

Scooby Doo, my incarnation: The first part of Episode 1, when trying to leave their hometown of Crystal Cove to start their second year of college, the Mystery Gang finds themselves trapped in Crystal Cove.

@draw-of-the-moon's LMK/Ninjago AU: While babysitting baby Firecracker, the ninja are called away to defeat a giant mech. Cole stays behind to watch the baby.

Poppy Playtime: It has been six months since the Hour of Joy. The Smiling Critters are trying their best, but food for the children and the adult bodies is running low, and sanity is starting to run even lower. There is only one option to even get a chance to escape the factory, and Dogday sets off to rescue her. (Or, the player was not the first to try and free Poppy.)

@draw-of-the-moon's LMK/Ninjago AU: In a daring mission to rescue their baby sibs from the underworld and Samukai, Nya and Kai both find themselves lost in the outer regions of the underworld. A lone wanderer named Azure offers to help guide them.

Poppy Playtime: The moment that the angel steps into the factory, every toy knows. Dogday, down below, hopes.

Poppy Playtime: Carnation Ludwig finds a dead body in her father's room.

FNAF/Scooby Doo: When you suddenly disappear from your last living sibling’s life, only reaching out via cards on her birthday, only to suddenly vanish and said polycule to try and find you, only to realize that they never really knew much about your life before the dog and mysteries.

LMK: Xiaojiao and Xiaotian discuss Red during “bestie bonding time”. Smut.

LMK: The Traffic Light Trio, Sun Wukong, and Macaque are cursed to tell the truth. Harsh stuff comes out.

#running low on inspiration for Lords #so new fic time!#LMK #Monkie Kid #LEGO Monkie Kid #Ninjago #Scooby Doo #SD #SDMI #Poppy Playtime #PP #FNAF #Five Nights at Freddy's

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cho-aaacho · 7 months

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(Flufftober 2023) First Kiss

Main Masterlist I Archive of Our Own

Flufftober 2023 Masterlist I Prompts List

Tags : Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, First Kiss, Flufftober 2023, Reader is genderless

(Flufftober 2023 Day 1)

As you gazed into the rearview mirror, your eye caught a glimmer of a man seated beside you. The warm embrace of sunshine danced gracefully upon his beautiful golden hair, weaving an ephemeral connection between the two of you.

You rested your head on the car window, watching him drive. His serious expression changed into a confused one as he noticed you were gazing at him for too long.

"Do I look weird to your eyes?" He inquired, breaking the silence.

With a mischievous nod, you playfully tapped your lap. "I can't believe I heard that from Chris."

He raised his eyebrows, sensing a weird bond between you and that name. A second later, his smile faded, replaced by a scoff that hinted at offense. "What do you mean? We don't talk about that weirdo."

He's trying not to get offended that easily. Because... yeah, you love it when you tease Albert like that. He always acted like that when he heard Chris' name. It feels like that name was a black curse to him, and you cannot say that name in front of him.

With a playful pout on his lips, he murmured something funny. Then he gazes at you in curiosity. "What did he say?"

"He says that you never experienced your first kiss."

"W... what?" His reaction was priceless. His voice was mixed between shock and disbelief. As his eyes widened, you could see a beautiful color in his eyes. They were blue, like azure marbles.

You tried hard not to laugh after seeing his expression. But acting isn't your talent, and he realized that you were mocking him. "Is that true, Albert?"

"Huh?" He hushed for a moment, trying to think of the right answer to give you. Shortly after, his lips formed a smirk. "You want to help me?"

He shifted his gaze to the drive-thru and pulled the break, waiting for you to respond to the question. But you simply gave him an uneasy look.

"...about what, Albert?"

He's smiling brightly. "You said I'd never had a first kiss, correct? So... do you want to assist me in getting one?"

He swiftly leaned in closer, waiting for you to completely surrender to his embrace. His lips twisted into a mischievous grin. Slowly and gently, he placed his palm on your face. Then he humbly whispered. "May I?"

His lips met yours after a few seconds. It was a sweet, passionate kiss, not a rough affair. He held your head safely and carefully slipped his thumb under your chin, deepening the kiss and leaving out a desperate moan.

He breaks the kiss, but his face stays near yours. He stated it in hushed tones. "...more?"

You were breathing heavily, your eyes widened, and your body shivered. No. It's wrong. It's not right. You shouldn't have told him that in the first place, and now he's asking for more. What an idiot!

But you might tell yourself that you want more from him. He's also a good kisser. You can't believe he hasn't kissed someone before with such skill.

"Albert..."

He's eager to kiss you once again before you finish your sentence. But he stopped after someone on the other side honked the horn and shouted.

"HEY! WHAT DO YOU THINK THIS PLACE IS? LOVE HOTEL? GET THE FUCK OFF NOW!?"

Note : You can find the prompts here Flufftober2023

Yahoo... Yahoo... Flufftober 2023. I might add other characters too.

#albert wesker x you #albert wesker x reader #wesker x you #wesker x reader #resident evil albert wesker #resident evil wesker #wesker fluff #albert wesker fluff #resident evil fluff #fluff #flufftober #resident evil #wesker #albert wesker

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elfyourmother · 3 months

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before I start posting more of my bg3 stuff here I really need to warn people that I approach this game not as someone new to any of this but as someone for whom the original bg trilogy (1+2+tob) is deeply meaningful, and pretty much all of my grievances w 3 stem from how larian treated most of the legacy lore and characters (poorly. as an understatement.). I realize some of that was just them building on the atrocious way wotc finally decided to canonize the old games in FR, but shit like the character assassination of sarevok anchev (one of my favorite characters of all time) is entirely on them.

it’s not only that, it’s also that I’ve been playing in the Realms sandbox as a whole for more than half my life at this point, since I was a tween in the 2E golden age. I cut my teeth worldbuilding w Abeir-Toril. even had wotc not literally lost the plot in 4e, my Realms look very different after 30 years of worldbuilding and storytelling through the various tabletop campaigns I ran for years, my fic, and 20+ years of crpg games set in FR not just from the original BG trilogy, but even earlier in the old SSI gold and silver box era of Curse of the Azure Bonds and the like.

in short, I have a very old and very deep history w FR that predates larian’s entire existence as a game studio much less this 1 game they made in it. this game is simply an opportunity to go home again and add another link on the charm bracelet.

so. in keeping with ed’s mantra, the faerûn Gisèle inhabits is uh. different. eg durge is not a thing, was never a thing, will never be a thing. (in the interest of not upsetting folks, I’ll keep my feelings on it to myself). eg. my loviatar has always resembled lady kushiel much more than the caricature of fevered neckbeard fetish dreams, even before ed set the record straight on her church. but too there are constant references to my older lore and stories from the previous crpgs, and not only baldur’s gate—she is my reincarnated CHARNAME, but she also fled to Lith My’athar and trained under my hero of Undrentide, which becomes very relevant when she sets thousands of vampire spawn free in the Underdark. She also knows the True Name of Mephistopheles because of this association, which gives her leverage when dealing with his son. And so on. Everything is deeply connected.

That might make it a little opaque for some, but that’s nothing new for me lol.

#I have some hefty lore posts coming #which is why I’m giving this disclaimer now #Bisho liveblogs her creative process #gisele of menzoberranzan #gisele surana

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loakstahni · 4 months

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Goin' full na'vi

Chapter one - still standing - barely..

Miles Quaritch X Lyle Wainfleet X fem na'vi!OC

Warning ⚠!: blood, death, animal death, slow burn, cursing, bit of angst, emotional breakdowns, mentions of food poisoning, mentions of vomiting, child birth, sex, p in v, threesome, mmf, unprotected sex, creampie, anal sex, fingering, oral sex, breeding kink, biting kink, kissing, marking, scenting, tsaheylu, switch!miles, softdom!Lyle, sub!OC, mating, alien genataila.

A/N: this is my first ever multi chapter fic! I really hope its a good read for y'all! Also thank you vary much, @tallulah477 and @quicktosimp for the help and tips with this! Thanks to @neteyamssyulang for some of the na'vi words from her own dictionary!💙

Word count: 2,020

Na'Vi translations: none

Miles’ ears were ringing as he sloppily flew cupcake over the sea, his head throbbing with a dull pain as he flew. Cupcake makes a loud screech and she jerks, making miles almost lose balance. He looks down, spotting something laying on a large rock. He recognized the shaved head and flew down, flying circles around wainfleet. “Lyle? You hear me?” He shouts, wincing at the strain in his voice.

Lyle lifted his head slowly, blinking tiredly up at the ikran. “ thank god..” Miles huffs, guiding cupcake down, carefully landing on the rock. Miles quickly gets off cupcake's back, limping his way over towards Lyle. He kneels next to him, cupping the back of his head and lifting his head upwards.

Lyle groans in pain, gripping onto miles’ wrist. His forehead was bleeding and his face bruised. “Hey.. Breath, I gotcha’.” Miles rumbles, moving to pull Lyle up and into his chest. Lyle winced, wrapping his arms around miles’ neck and pressing his head into his shoulder.”Easy, Lyle..” Miles mumbles, carefully helping him to his feet and guiding him towards cupcake. “Fuck..” Lyle whimpers out, ears pinned flat to his head as he grips cupcake’s saddle and heaves himself up onto it miles sitting in front of him. Lyle leans his body into miles’ back, hooking his chin over the other’s shoulder. “Hold on,” Miles said, taking off roughly into the sky after making the bond with cupcake.

The two flew on for what felt like forever, the sun long set now. Leaving the air even colder on their damp bodies. Lyle was shivering behind miles, his teeth chattering and his ears down turned. Miles groans out in exhaustion, his ears perking up as he spots a large island in the distance. “Hold on, Lyle. We're gonna’ land here.” he pats lyle’s knee, stirring the other male awake.

Lyle lifts his head, his golden eyes having a hard time focusing thanks to his headache. He nods slightly, pressing his forehead into the back of miles’ shoulder blade. “I'm fuckin’ freezing.” Lyle hisses, goosebumps rising all over his azure skin.

“Sorry,” Miles huffs, guiding cupcake down towards the island, the landing was rough, mainly because Miles was exhausted and cupcake picked up on that through the bond. Miles pulls his kuru from cupcake’s, patting her neck firmly before swinging his leg over, hopping off with a hiss. He turned his head, checking Lyle before helping him off. “I'm fine.” Lyle said, standing up straight once he was off cupcake. “Bullshit, look at your fuckin’ head.” Miles huffs, turning around with a grumble, limping off towards some twigs and branches, gathering them into a pile. He pats himself down, searching for his flint and steel in his vest, he growls, pulling the damned fabric off his body, flipping through the different pockets before finding the flint and steel. He cracks the steel against the stick of flint a few times, sparks flaking off the flint before a rather large spark catches a few dry leafs on fire.

Miles huffs out a sigh of relief, lightly blowing on the small flame until it grew in size.

Soon they had a good fire going, Lyle leaned his back against cupcake, who was curled around the fire. His eyes closed as he listened to the fire crackle. Miles was staring blankly ahead, ears pasted to his head as he reflected on all that happened the days leading up to this one. “Am I a bad father..?” he said quietly, mainly to himself. Lyle’s ears twitch and he opens one eye, looking towards the colonel. “Nah, just got a bad kid.” He murmurs.

Miles huffs out a breath, ears drooping downwards. “Yeah- a bad kid..” He mumbles out, shifting himself slightly, bringing his knees up to his chest and resting his chin on his knees. “Anyway.. You feelin’ alright?” Miles turns his head, looking at Lyle with a hint of concern in his eyes. Lyle’s ears perk up and he nods, leaning back against cupcake’s side. “Yeah, just sore and tired.” He mumbles, tipping his head back and looking up at the night sky through the leafy canopy of trees above. “No shit, got your ass knocked ou- nevermind.” Miles shakes his head slightly, standing up with a soft grunt. “Leavin’?” Lyle asks, sitting up straighter. His amber eyes following quaritch’s every move.

“No, getting some more wood.” Miles said, limping off into the glowing bushes. “Don't get yourself killed!” Lyle calls after him. “Piss up a rope, wainfleet.” Miles huffs out a laugh, bending down and picking up some smaller logs and sticks before walking back towards lyle and cupcake. “Hey, where’s your banshee anyway? I haven't seen him since.. Well since the whale made the ship its couch.” Miles huffs out a chuckle, setting the wood down before plopping himself down in the grass beside lyle.

“I'm not sure..” Lyle’s ears drooped, he suddenly felt panicked, he didn't know where his ikran was. All he knew was he felt strangely empty and had faint pain in his back and sides, like someone had poked him until he was sore. He hoped wherever duke was, that he was safe. “We'll go out lookin’ for him in the mornin’, for now we should try to sleep.” Miles said, sitting up and looking through the packs on cupcake’s saddle, his ears perking up slightly as he found two sleeping mats.

“Here” he tosses one to Lyle, rolling the other one out himself before plopping down with a groan. “See you in the mornin’, colonel.” Lyle said, settling down on his own mat. “Call me miles, I've lost the right to be called ‘colonel'.” Miles grumbles, rolling over and closing his eyes. “Yeah, ok then, Miles.” Lyle chuckles lightly, laying his head down and closing his eyes, letting sleep take him.

Lyle wakes up to the smell of something cooking, he yawns, rolling onto his back and stretching, he stops mid-stretch, letting out a pained moan. He slowly sits up, his ears perking up as he spots miles, crouching beside the fire that they had somehow managed to keep going. Miles had two weird looking fish stuck on the ends of a stick, they smelled heavenly as they cooked over the fire.

“How'd you get those?” Lyle rasps, drawing miles’ attention from the fire. “Cupcake got em’.” He said. Lyle looks around, not spotting the banshee in question. “She's off doin’ banshee shit, you’know, huntin’ for herself.” Miles said, shaking his head fondly. He pulls the sticks away from the fire, lightly blowing on them before handing one to Lyle.

“Thanks.” Lyle nods, taking the stick and sniffing the fish. it smelled really good, but if a rock looked at him right he's sure he would eat it. Lyle takes a bite - more like tries to. The fish was tough, almost like trying to eat leather, he finally tears off a chunk and chews on it. The fish tastes overly Salty and has hints of an extremely sour taste. Miles was already spitting his bite out and throwing the fish aside with a curse.

Lyle tried to swallow but ended up triggering his gag reflex and gagging. He spits out the fish, before heaving up whatever he had in his stomach to begin with. “Damn fish, sorry Lyle.” Miles huffs, patting Lyle’s back. “It's alright, I'm tough.” Lyle chuckles slightly, throwing the fish aside as well. He stands up stretching his arms above his head. Miles’ ears perk up at the sound of an approaching banshee, Lyle’s own ears perked up too, secretly hoping it was his ikran. He sighs, seeing cupcake peek her head at miles through the leafs in the trees. “Hey girl.” Miles said with a slight smile, he clicks his tongue at her and cupcake responds with her own clicking. “Well, ready to go look for duke?” Miles said, turning to Lyle.

“I didn't know you paid attention to what I named him.” Lyle chuckled, laughing a bit more once cupcake flew down from the tree, almost landing on miles. “Yeah, I remembered.” Miles huffs, hissing slightly at cupcake before he makes the bond with her. “Crazy ass.” He pats her neck, before swinging his leg over her back and sitting on her saddle. “She just loves her daddy.” Lyle laughs, sitting behind miles. “Call me that again and you're dead.” Miles huffs, laughing slightly before taking off with cupcake. The whole time they were flying around the island cupcake seemed to keep trying to pull towards the west side, miles sensed her panic and worry in the bond and he decided to fly to the west side.

Lyle’s ears were perked up as they flew, looking down and around for any signs of duke. “Oh no.” Miles mumbles, spotting a blue, teal and yellow ikran laying on the shore. They flew down, Lyle froze once he saw duke. The ikran had different arrows and spears sticking out of him, like someone used him as a pin cushion. Miles hopped off cupcake first, patting her side as he slowly walked over towards Lyle’s ikran, he gently pats Duke’s neck, the skin cold to the touch. Lyle stared blanketly at his ikran, he felt like a part of him just got ripped away, like he was missing half of his soul. He gets off cupcakes back, walking over to miles and duke and dropping to his knees, he gently pulls duke’s head into his lap, running his hand over his chin and head. “I'm sorry, buddy.. I'm so sorry..” Lyle mumbles, pressing his forehead against Duke’s head.

Miles sits down next to Lyle, wrapping his arm over his shoulder. “At least he's not hurtin’ anymore.” Miles mumbles, reaching out and rubbing his hand against duke’s head. “Y-Yeah..” Lyle mumbles, fighting down the urge to just break down and sob. “This is fuckin’ karma..” Lyle mumbles, his ears pinned against his shaved head. “for killin’ sully’s boy..?” Miles asks, his tone softer than normal. Lyle nods slightly, gently scratching duke’s head.

Lyle’s eyes begin to water even more as he's brought back to having to dig his childhood dog’s grave after he didn't pay attention to the dog and the dog got hit on a road. He can still remember his father screaming at him for being ‘careless’. “I feel broken..” Lyle mumbles, looking blankly at his lap. Miles’ ears lower and he carefully pulls Lyle closer, he knew all too well what feeling broken felt like, but he just guessed he was better at hiding it then Lyle.

The two stayed with duke’s body until it was dark, Miles decided to make a fire on the beach, letting Lyle grieve all he needed. Miles had even found some yovo fruit growing nearby, he knew they were safe to eat. Miles got up from the fire, walking over towards Lyle who was still sitting beside duke, stroking his head and neck. “Hey, you hungry?” Miles asks, holding out yovo fruit for him.

Lyle lifted his head, his eyes red and puffy. “Thanks..” Lyle took the fruit, before taking a slow bite and chewing slowly. He sighs softly, handing the yovo back to miles. Miles takes the fruit, tossing it to cupcake which she happily gobbles down. “Take your time, Lyle.” Miles said, patting his back before turning around to walk back towards the fire. Lyle reaches out, grabbing a hold of miles’ wrist. “Stay.. Please..” He mumbles, his ears down turned, making him look like a sad puppy dog. Miles sighs softly, plopping himself down next to Lyle. he gently runs his hands over his shoulders, trying his best to soothe him. “You alright..?” Miles asks, tilting his head. Lyle shrugged, leaning himself back against Miles. “I don't know yet..” He mumbles, gently patting duke’s head. “You're strong, you'll get through this..” Miles said, rubbing his hand over Lyle’s arm.

“Promise..?” Lyle mumbles, ears perking up in hope.

“I can't promise anything, but I'm here for you and you're here for me, we're stuck with each other for now..”

#avatar way of water #avatar james cameron #recom lyle wainfleet #navi oc #lyle wainfleet smut #recom miles quaritch #miles quaritch smut #Miles quaritch x lyle wainfleet x oc

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the-slasher-files · 9 months

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PERFECT OPPONENT

"You look good with my hands around your throat" - ALEX KELLER

Another quick prompt, readers callsign is Koda. Enjoy 🔪🤍

MASTERLIST

The blue mat was spongey against your feet once you stood, another rookie was laid out and done upon your force. It's not that you had strength or size necessarily, you had just learned how to take full advantage of your speed and momentum. Finding your niche among the predators of a dangerous jungle.

"Alright," you huffed, propping a leg up on the bench as you took a swig of water, eyeing up your next potential suiter, but he found you instead.

"How many rookies are you sending out in body bags, Koda?" You could hear the smile in his voice before you even turned around, meeting those warm azure eyes.

"Not my fault the force brought in children wearing their mom's heels," you chuckled as he joined in with a shake of his.

"I've only got one heel on, so I should have less of a problem" Alex chimed with such a sweetness to his voice, pointing to his newly metal leg.

It wasn't a secret around the base that you and him had found interest within one another; Invading each other's space with soft touches, gazes across the debriefing table, walking off together to grab coffee in the morning before drills and even cuddling on the couches when it was movie night. When you work together on the same task force and put your life on the line for one another, shit becomes real and you two knew that better than anyone, in relationships and bonds. Without thinking, Alex placed an arm around your shoulders, suddenly dwarfing you in colored ink and muscle, but you didn't mind at all. Welcoming his warmth as you trailed a hand under his left collar bone, eyes sparkling as if the world was just you and him.

"Just makeout already!" Soap yelled across 2 mats as he had a rookie in a headlock, the poor man looked as red as a tomato under the Scots brutal biceps as he cackled.

Rolling your eyes, you called back. "You might wanna check on the rookie who's passing out there, soapy" The laughter instantly stopped as you heard him curse and deadweight hit the mat. Poor fella.

Inhaling a deep breath to steady yourself, you drew your attention back to the man that stepped onto the mat. You could tell he was a little uneased at the feeling of the metal shifting against the foam, but he quickly collected himself as well. As laid back and casual as ever with a smile on his face. Truthfully, you had never grappled with Alex before. He, just like you, had opted for long range rather and negotiations than a close battle, however, sticky situations were never lost in your head.

"Ready?"

"Ready." He affirmed back.

Surprisingly, Alex moved first, gripping your arm and pulling your back against his toned chest with an accomplished huff upon your neck, his lips grazing your skin. Swallowing quickly, you countered, hooking your leg around his right and drawing your momentum to flip his weight to the floor with a thud before straddling Alex's lean waist, with hands around his throat. Blue eyes widened but that signature smirk was still bright as ever.

"You look good with my hands around your throat" You boldly whispered, your tongue darting out to wet your lips in a toothy, devilish smile.

The quip never made him miss a beat, raising his hips and pinning your body beneath his in a rush of blurred motion. Alex's large hands easily grasped yours, holding them above your head as his thighs pressed yours open, the bite of metal pinning your ankle bubbling out a moan in you.

"They can be there anytime, sweetheart"

#my first lil alex keller moment lol #hope its ok #my writing #alex keller #cod #call of duty #x you #x s/o #x reader #imagine #modern warfare

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retrocgads · 6 months

Text

USA 1997

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cassianus · 1 month

Text

Ascetic Heart: Reflections on the Way of Self-Sacrifice

Written by Anonymous.

A boy once approached his father, ‘Old man, why do you fast?’ The father stood silent, bringing heart and mind together, and then:

‘Beloved boy, I fast to know what it is I lack.

For day by day I sit in abundance, and

all is well before me;

I want not, I suffer not, and I

lack but that for which I invent a need.

But my heart is empty of true joy,

filled, yet overflowing with dry waters.

There is no room left for love.

I have no needs, and so my needs are never met,

no longings, and so my desires are never fulfilled.

Where all the fruits of the earth could dwell, I have

filled the house with dust and clouds;

It is full, so I am content—

But it is empty, and so I weep.

‘Thus I fast, beloved, to know the

dust in which I dwell.

I take not from that which I might take,

for in its absence I am left empty,

and what is empty stands ready to be

filled.

I turn from what I love, for my love is barren,

and by it I curse the earth.

I turn from what I love, that I may purify my loving,

and move from curse to blessing.

‘From my abundance I turn to want,

as the soldier leaves the comfort of home,

of family and love,

to know the barrenness of war.

For it is only amongst the fight, in the

torture of loss, in the fire of battle,

that lies are lost and the blind man

clearly sees.

In hunger of body and mind, I see

the vanity of food,

for I have loved food as food,

and have never been fed.

In weary, waking vigil I see

the vanity of sleep,

for I have embraced sleep as desire,

and have never found rest.

In sorrow, with eyes of tears I see

the vanity of pleasure,

for I have treasured happiness above all,

and have never known joy.

‘I fast, beloved child, to crush the wall

that is my self;

For I am not who I am, just as these passions

are not treasures of gold but of clay.

I fast to die, for it is not the living who are

raised, but the dead.

I fast to crucify my desires, for He who was

crucified was He who lived,

and He who conquered,

and He who lives forever.’

***

The ascetic mind is not one of stone, cold and darkened to the outside world. Too often, those who stand apart from the heavenly struggle see it thus, and thereby see it askew. To climb is not to descend, and to grow is not to die. Those who reject the world do so not out of hatred, not out of scorn for the creation into which they have been born, but out of most profound love. It takes a true love deeper than most will ever know, to consider the world with such fondness and thanksgiving that one is willing to let it go. Hope and faith must be of the profoundest sort, if ever they are to give birth to a heart willing to break away from creation, that it might one day be united more fully to it.

The ascetic heart knows the world, and knows that it is good. It can see the tranquil pond, the azure sky, the frail leaf, and catch in every glimpse the radiant shimmer of the Divine. In all things there is God.

The ascetic heart knows creation, and rejoices in its bounty. It sees the breath drawn in and out by all creatures, watches as they mingle together in the Creator’s hands. There is fawn, there is bird, there is beast, but all are life, and all life is in Christ.

The ascetic heart knows humanity. In its gentle sight there is no man, no woman—only brother and sister, father and mother, daughter and son. The family of human life is united together with a bond only this heart can truly see, and once it is seen, it is all that can be seen in man. That bond of communion, reflection of the Divine, is the nature of human being.

The ascetic heart knows itself, and knows that it is good. For all that may darken and stain its surface, the handiwork of a Craftsman is still beloved, and what was once made divine can only be sullied and perverted, but never wholly destroyed. The ascetic heart looks within, and knows of a great Beauty to be found inside its own walls.

Yet this same ascetic heart also knows of darkness. As much as it has rejoiced over its light and fullness, so much has it bewailed its void and emptiness. A brilliant light which cannot be seen suffers not always from its source, but rather from its surroundings—the ascetic heart is pure, but its purity is covered in shame. It is the unique gift of the ascetic to know this, and her divine blessing that such knowledge wells up tears of grief like none the world can call forth. To gaze deep within and see the Sun darkened with stains is to be pained in soul, to see nature perfected and destroyed at once and in the same breath. Unbridled joy and soul wrenching agony collide; and if their collision be perfect, the ascetic heart is born.

***

The boy approached his father, gently, ‘Old man, why do you sorrow?’ The old man softened his tears:

‘Beloved, my sorrow is my joy.

Where there is no weeping, there is

no rejoicing,

And he who has not sorrowed

has never known delight.

‘I sorrow for the darkness that

I see within,

for the depth of the divide I have

cast between my mind and my heart.

I sorrow, for I have become

a source of sorrow,

and if I do not weep

I shall never be healed.

‘What God has blessed, I have squandered,

and therefore all the mountains weep.

Shall I yet rejoice?

See me, an aged man of squandered days,

a vessel of life confined to death—

yet merry, at peace, rejoicing!

‘No, beloved, let us weep.

Let us know sorrow, for then

we know ourselves, then we see.

No more in ignorance, but in truth

let us walk,

acknowledging our woe,

weeping with the earth.

When its sorrow is our sorrow,

then the weight shall crush my bones

—and crushed, I shall be reborn.

‘Sorrow is the door, dear boy,

the door of joy pure and true.

With every tear we shed,

we rejoice more fully,

exist more wholly,

love more purely.’

And with this, the old man’s words ceased, his mouth was still. And as the tears brimmed within his eyes, his joy radiated as the sun.

***

How captive are we, we fallen children, to the pleasures and passions that rule our lives. How we treasure the chains which imprison us, bestowing upon them garlands and wreathes, adorning them as friends. We sit bound by our desires, a lamentable state, yet we rejoice, for our eyes are shut fast; and as in a dream we see our confinement as freedom, our chains as wings.

The ascetic heart knows the darkness of this cell that is our fallen state, the chill of the stone walls that barricade us as if in tombs while yet we walk alive. And this heart knows, too, the cunning poison that is our joy, when founded in these walls—a poison sweet as honey, that dries the blood even as it tickles the tongue. The ascetic heart knows the deep reality of bondage, of the lament of all creation when a human person is bound to death, and recognizes the truth of the chains that bind him. Yet for the ascetic, the chains lose their appeal, their draw—for he knows that only the yoke offered by Christ can lead upward, inward, forward to Life.

One might feel pity, when seeing the ascetic, for he whose heart is borne aloft to God is the very man whose tears flow more freely than most, who weeps in time of rejoicing and sorrows at the festivals of the day. Yet how absent from the need for pity is the man who knows the sorrow of the world, for it is only he who knows its joy! Only when the illusion of ‘life’ is seen for all its empty reality, can the space within one’s vision that so long it occupied be filled—at long last—with the vision of Truth.

The sorrow of the ascetic is not a hopeless sadness, but a hope-filled lament for all that is distant from God. It is the heart weeping for its loss, even in the same breath that it receives its gain, just as the father wept for his prodigal son even as the latter rushed with longing into his father’s arms. The tears wept in this divine sorrow are tears of purification, the divine waters of baptismal grace welling up anew from the depths of the heart, purifying flesh and soul as they ascend upward and outward, finally to fall to the waiting earth.

It is in sorrow that the ascetic heart finds the doorway to joy. A heart petrified so long by the dry passions and fleeting winds of worldly desires becomes hardened, parched, incapable of change or growth. It is this parched earth that the ascetic waters with her tears, pained at her heart’s barrenness, but stirred with profoundest joy at the knowledge that each drop of water transforms the very earth itself.

As sorrow gives rise to tears, so is the hardened heart softened. As the heart is softened, holiness is born. As holiness is born, so divine transformation occurs. And where God transforms life, there all joy and hope, love and peace are found. Thus does the ascetic sorrow, for in sorrow is the door to life.

***

The boy approached his father, sat and questioned, ‘Old man, why are you alone? Why your solitude?’ The elder sighed, his breath light as the sky:

‘All the world is one, beloved,

kept entire in the hand of God.

Solitude is an illusion,

a fleeting vision;

for when one is still

he is never alone.

‘And yet the world turns,

turns with haste toward its ends—

fleeting, fallen, manmade all.

And we, too, turn,

glancing here and there, with

vision rushed, blurred;

never one, but divided.

‘I am alone, beloved, for the sake

of our communion.

Only in solitude is stillness born,

only there is it nurtured—

that great gift by which we live.

Divine silence can be found but

when the heart is still:

alone in its quest,

alone with God.

Thus solitude brings quiet,

and quiet the stillness where

whispers cease,

and here, the voice of God.

‘Hear me well, dear boy:

my solitude is my communion;

alone, we are together.

In solitude I see Christ whole,

for I am wholly His.

By this vision I am transformed,

my eyes at last beholding Life,

and Life reviving the blood of my veins.

I am Adam, wailing alone before the gates.

I quiet my tears to hear God beside me

—and am healed.

‘Thus my solitude, thus am I alone:

to know the depth of Christ within

and heal all that is without.

For when in solitude I come to know God,

I am united to Him in love,

united to Him who fills all,

And my solitude becomes my communion,

as alone I embrace the world.’

***

The call to retreat is mystical. There is divine grace even in the pin-prick voice of the inspired conscience, which through its love for the way of the Cross takes note of the desert, there sees a palace, and calls with longing for its transformation into home. It is the voice which called Christ into the sands of Judea, Anthony into the dunes of Egypt, Saba into the valleys of Palestine, and every human person into the desert of his own life. With echoes of the voice of God, this chord within the human soul seeks retreat, departure from the ways of extravagance and ease, and builds within the heart the desire for battle in the solitude of the sand.

Who has lived and not at some time heard—however faintly—this call? In the busiest moments, in the most absorbed, who has not felt the inexplicable desire for solitude, for a place of silence and peace in which to make sense of the world’s stage? Perhaps but for a fleeting instant, yet this desire is truly felt, and that instant can change the soul. There is crisis, for in the infinite smallness of that single moment, the great magnitude of life is felt, and a sense of distance formed.

It is the gift of the ascetic heart to live in this moment, to cultivate the seed of so precious an instant into the fruit of a whole life changed, woven to the garment of Christ. In this heart the moment of the call is extended to the span of life, for the call is sweet, and the heart knows that such an invitation cannot but be heeded. Love answers Love, for it is the One who is the essence of love whose voice has pierced the soul.

Thus is born the desire for retreat. Yes, to retreat is to flee, but the ascetic flees the world not to abandon it, rather to embrace it. It is not that she hates the world that the ascetic runs, but because she loves it too dearly to be captive to it falsely. To love the world in sin is to shame both the lover and the loved, to deny the holiness of both. Retreat becomes the means for purification, for sanctification, that holy may meet holy, and in purity embrace at last.

Solitude becomes communion, true communion, for our unity as brother and sister is naught but for our union with Christ, and this is in us all most fallen. Fragmented, torn from Christ and ourselves, we can never be whole. The family of humanity is a great and marvelous image formed after the nature of a puzzle with pieces intertwined, embracing. But if each piece will not itself be one, then the puzzle may never be fit. Thus the ascetic plunges into solitude, departure, for here the broken self is healed. Here distractions falls before the gates of contemplation, and fallen being finds reality in communion with the Maker of all. Here, alone, the thread is re-spun, strengthened, purified, brightened, that it may be woven as never before into the fabric of humanity.

Christ will be all in all, and all in Him must be one. But community without self is illusory, finite. The ascetic sees this, and in the vision sees response in flight. Alone, alone in the solitude of prayer, does he join the world at last.

***

The boy knelt at his father’s knees, ‘Dear man, how do you pray?’ The old man sighed a gentle sigh, smiling in his eyes. All questions came to this. Here the great meeting place of life, and of its nature the elder spoke:

‘Beloved, prayer is life,

and apart from it is only darkness.

It is the breath of the soul which yearns for God,

joining with His breath,

becoming one.

Prayer is the only light by which men can see,

the only vision they are called to adore,

for it is union with God

and in this union—everything.

‘Prayer is the quiet of a storm-tossed will,

an intellect guarded from the seas,

a mind centered upon God Most High.

It is stillness wrought in the midst of motion,

in which all that moves is God,

and with Him, all the world.

Prayer knows no words, if it is true,

for words belittle the presence of the Divine,

confound the conversation of Him who is all in all.

True prayer is beyond words,

transcending speech and thought,

communing with One who is greater than these,

Who works beyond them,

and in Whose presence they are no longer required.

Prayer is the stillness of the tongue,

of the mind, of the heart,

that God and these may come together

apart from words—one.

‘To pray, beloved, is to gather with Christ

at the shores of eternity;

To realize that these shores are within,

manifested in each human heart—

the infinite contained in the finite.

The One who came as Man and dwelt in a womb,

now dwells in the very heart of man.

Prayer is His energy, His activity,

vibrant in the human soul,

alive through His very Spirit,

stirring life to new heights

in the soul that has become quiet,

still enough to feel His breath.

‘We pray in our weakness, beloved,

for it makes us strong;

We pray in our strength,

for it makes us humble;

We pray in height and depth,

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imminent-danger-came · 1 year

Text

2x03 and 4x03

Mei: “If I know the Monkie King, which I don’t, his lesson isn’t going to be as simple as just hearing, it’s some sort of twist. Maaaayybbee, it’s about listening good! You know?”

MK: “Isn’t that the same thing?”

(2x03 Pig Pong Panic)

Azure Lion: “If your bonds of friendship are as strong as you say, then you will always find your way back to one another.”

MK: “Alright! Find our friends, beat the curse, and get back to the good old fashioned story of the week!”

MK: “But where to start...”

Mei: “You’re a big brained boy when it comes to the legend stuff, got any idea of what chapter the JourNeY to the WeeSt we’re in?”

MK: “Uhhh I kinda just skip to the parts with Monkie King in them, but it’s fine, everything will be fine!”

Guard: “Did ya hear?”

(4x03 The Great Tang Man)

Not gonna lie gamers. I don’t exactly know what this one is trying to say. Like, it has to do with MK’s lovely ‘smartie kid’ arc (which tbh starts all the way in 1x10, I need to write a meta for it some time), BUT LISTENING?? HEARING??? AN “IF” STATEMENT??? MK’s “hand out” position and “finger on chin” position are swapped chronologically, not to mention they’re mirrored, and we all know how I feel about that.

I’ll put the scene (and lowkey a mini-meta) under a readmore, but during Pigsy and MK’s climatic ping pong fight this happens:

Mei: “You have to truly learn to listen”

Tang: “His hunger for the win! It’s insatiable.”

Pigsy: “I won’t stop.

“I can’t stop.”

“I’ll NEVER STOP!”

MK: *Gasp!*

“That’s what Monkie King meant!

MK: “Not just super hearing, but actually listening to what people are saying! I have to listen!”

LIKE. WHY SHOW THOSE SCENES.

Originally, I had assumed that this scene was for the shonen anime joke—this ping pong game is already so over the top, and having the hero make a climatic realization during it works super well. I think it’s hilarious every time I watch 2x03.

However, referencing 2x03 in 4x03 has made me totally reconsider the validity of this scene for like, character progression.

MK is of course terrible at listening. He assumes double meanings and doesn’t truly “listen” to what people say, just what he chooses to hear. I think 3x03 “Smartie Kid” has a great example of this:

MK: “Meeiiii, Monkie King needs to recharge after his fight with Ne Zha! He’s in no state to waste his time on mere mortals—especially now that I don’t have my powers.”

Pigsy: “Woah. He told you that?”

Obviously, Sun Wukong didn’t actually tell MK that. MK has seriously low self-esteem, and that seeps into how he interacts with others.

So, when MK hears “If your bonds of friendship are as strong as you say, then you will always find your way back to one another”, he assumes that means getting back to his “monster of the week” adventures, but it doesn’t. He’s permanently changed (4x07 hahahahahaha), and as we all know, part of the Hero’s Journey is the hero never returning home (*cough cough* 4x01 “But maybe this is the point in our hero’s journey where things get a little bit, darker. *cough cough*).

It’s definitely all tied together, but I’m not sure I grasp it entirely yet.

And then there’s the scenes from 1x09 and 1x10, which sure do imply...something. Currently I’m thinking the line “Ah, ya did it bud, you remembered what I told you” has everything to do with it, and everyone’s little speech about being MK’s team. They’re both scenes where MK truly listened to the people around him, which is a rarity around these parts.

And, you know what was another instance where MK truly listened?

#IT'S SO DIRECT AND ON PURPOSE AND I BARELY GET IT #why are the monkie kid writers on crack all the time #2x03 and 4x03. who knew right #why these episodes #why the pigsy ping pong episode like that's wild #Like. 'Pig Pong Panic' does foreshadow pigsy's telekinesis abilities so why am I surprised #Honestly why am I ever surprised this is just what these writers do #lmk #lmk mk #lmk mei #lmk parallels #mirror motif #monkie kid #lego monkie kid #lmk meta

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