#territories for the Levites

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Territories for the Levites

66 Some of the families of the Kohath clan received their towns from the tribe of Ephraim. 67-69 These families received the following Safe Towns and the pastureland around them: Shechem in the hill country, Gezer, Jokmeam, Beth-Horon, Aijalon, and Gath-Rimmon. 70 And from West Manasseh they received Aner and Bileam, together with their pastureland.

71 The Gershonite clan received two towns from the tribe of East Manasseh: Golan in Bashan and Ashtaroth, including the pastureland around them. 72-73 The Gershonites also received four towns from the tribe of Issachar: Kedesh, Daberath, Ramoth, and Anem, including the pastureland around them. 74-75 The Gershonites received four towns from the tribe of Asher: Mashal, Abdon, Hukok, and Rehob, including the pastureland around them. 76 Finally, the Gershonites received three towns from the tribe of Naphtali: Kedesh in Galilee, Hammon, and Kiriathaim, including the pastureland around them.

77 The rest of the Merari clan received the towns of Rimmono and Tabor and their pastureland from the tribe of Zebulun. 78-79 They also received four towns east of the Jordan River from the tribe of Reuben: Bezer in the flatlands, Jahzah, Kedemoth, and Mephaath, including the pastures around them. 80-81 And from the tribe of Gad the Merarites received the towns of Ramoth in Gilead, Mahanaim, Heshbon, and Jazer, including the pastureland around them. — 1 Chronicles 6:66-81 | Contemporary English Version (CEV) The Holy Bible, Contemporary English Version Copyright © 1995 by American Bible Society. Cross References: Joshua 10:10; Joshua 10:12; Joshua 13:25; Joshua 13:31; Joshua 19:12; Joshua 19:45; Joshua 20:7; Joshua 21:20; Joshua 21:27; Joshua 21:34; 1 Kings 4:12; 1 Chronicles 7:1; 1 Chronicles 26:31

[dezerex]

Chingling and Chimecho should have been Normal Steel type pokemon and been given normalize as a hidden ability so that they could use entrainment on opponents to make all of their attacking moves plink off of its steel typing and then retaliate with normalize boosted Last Resort and Boomburst then you could give them tera ghost and do something really funny 👍

[sadnymi]

Mattheo making a girl cum by praising her and its in class just little whispers and she dry humps him so desperately in a slytherin party he calls her bunny

「 ✦ Duel of Desires. ✦ 」

Mattheo riddle x reader

Summary (Request) : Furious at what Mattheo did in class, I set out for revenge. But my carefully crafted plan takes an unforeseen twist

Warning : Dry Humping , public sex ,fingering , dom/sub dynamics , praise kink

Words : 2.8k

A prickling sensation on my thigh interrupted my meticulous Charms notes. Glancing down, I found Matteo's hand, his fingers tracing idle patterns against the soft skin of my thigh .

A playful annoyance bubbled up inside me. Here we were, Professor Flitwick droning on about the Levitation Charm, and Matteo was turning my thigh into his own personal canvas.

"Mattheo," I hissed, swatting his hand away without breaking eye contact with the restricted professor.

He winked at me, a devilish glint in his eyes. "Just admiring your concentration, love. Makes you look positively fierce."

My cheeks flushed, not entirely from his suggestive comment. Professor Flitwick, with his booming voice and magnified eyes, felt like a hawk perpetually circling the classroom.

"Focus, Mattheo," I murmured, trying to reign in my scattered attention. Transfiguration had been a disaster this morning thanks to his constant teasing, and I wasn't about to let Charms suffer the same fate.

"But you're so much more fascinating than Levitation," he countered, his voice barely a whisper. He brushed his hand against my thigh again, this time lingering a beat longer.

Frustration bubbled over. "Mattheo! We have an exam coming up, and I need to actually learn something."

He chuckled, the sound low and warm against my ear. "Relax, love. You're a natural. Besides, who needs a wand when you have me?"

My irritation morphed into something a little more heated. This wasn't the first time Mattheo's playful teasing had crossed the line in class. The thrill of stolen moments was undeniable, but the risk of detention or worse, Professor McGonagall's withering stare, loomed large.

Taking a deep breath, I decided to play his game. Leaning in close, I lowered my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Alright, Romeo," I said, using a nickname reserved for those rare, stolen moments,"but if you distract me any further, your punishment will be far more… delightful than detention."

A surprised laugh escaped his lips. He met my gaze, his eyes darkened with desire. "Game on, then, witch."

As I attempted to focus on the lecture, a sudden touch on my knee jolted me. Glancing towards Matteo, I found him diligently transcribing the board's contents into his notebook, a mischievous grin playing at the corners of his lips. His left hand remained hidden under the table, adding to the clandestine nature of his actions.

I tried to discreetly shake my leg to deter his advances, but his hand deftly maneuvered to my thigh, securing a hold on my skirt. His touch sent a tingling sensation through me, disrupting my concentration.

Professor Flitwick's voice cut through the room, requesting me to read aloud from the textbook. Despite my racing heart, I began to read, acutely aware of Matteo's lingering touch inching closer to a more intimate area.

Despite the electrifying distraction, I forced myself to continue reading, attempting to ignore Matteo's provocative gestures. However, his subtle movements became more daring, culminating in a direct contact that made my breath hitch.

His whispered words added to the tension, leaving me flustered and unable to fully focus on the task at hand. The classroom seemed to fade into the background as Matteo's actions dominated my senses.

As Professor Flitwick instructed Matteo to continue reading, a mischievous smirk played on his lips while his hand, hidden under the table, ventured into forbidden territory. His index finger delicately teased my clit, sending a shiver down my spine as I tried to maintain composure and focus on his reading. The weight of Professor Flitwick's gaze lingered, making every movement feel amplified and dangerous.

"Thank you, Mattheo," Professor Flitwick's words acted as a temporary interruption, drawing attention away from our covert exchange.

His touch became more daring as his whole hand began to rub circles against my clit, causing me to clench my legs tightly together. “ don’t close your legs bunny “ A hushed command slipped from his lips when he ensured that Professor Flitwick wasn't observing our clandestine interaction.

"You're so beautiful when you struggle for me," he murmured, his words a tantalizing mixture of praise and provocation.

As his fingers sadly ceased their movement, I closed my eyes in an attempt to steady my racing heartbeat. Our pretense of innocence continued as we both feigned concentration, with him jotting notes in his notebook and me doing the same, all the while feeling the lingering heat from his touch between my thighs.

My quill trembled in my hand as his middle fingertip teased my entrance, a subtle reminder of the delicious tension that pulsed between us.

"You're doing such a good job," he whispered, the words dripping with desire and satisfaction.

As his finger continued its tantalizing dance on my clit, my senses heightened, and the room seemed to blur around us. I could feel the weight of his gaze on me , his right hand came to my notebook and reading what I wrote

His whisper in my ear sent shivers down my spine, his words laced with admiration. "So smart," he praised, his voice barely audible over the classroom's ambient sounds.

A soft moan escaped my lips as his finger teased my sensitive clit, drawing attention from those around us.

“Is there a problem Miss (Y/L/N)?”, Professor Flitwick's inquiring voice momentarily broke the spell

Mattheo sped up his pace and i gulped, shaking my head “Nothing just…I hit my leg.”

His thumb pressed against my clit, a silent command for me to focus, even as waves of pleasure washed over me.

"Silence, darling," he whispered, his touch igniting a fire within me, making me stand at the edge of my seat “it makes me smile when you drip like that before i even touched you “

The intense sensations brought tears to my eyes, but I fought to maintain composure, desperately searching for any distraction. ,and then I noticed his bulge deliberate flex of his thigh muscle all added to the dizzying mix of pleasure and tension I moved my hands but he catch them with his free hand .

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he warned firmly, his smirk evident in his voice.

Mattheo's skilled fingers pushed me to the brink repeatedly, each pause amplifying my desire. I felt like I was on the verge of losing control, his smirk and chuckle signaling his triumph.

"I admire your strength, bunny," he praised, pushing me closer to the edge. "Cum for me, pretty one," he commanded, igniting a blazing inferno within me with his mere touch. It was a paradox of ecstasy and frustration, and I cum so hard it was insane, leaving me questioning how such intense desire could be evoked with such minimal contact.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

I sat in my dimly lit room, wrapped in a cozy blanket, my favorite book lying forgotten on my lap. The decision weighed heavily on my mind—to go or not to go to the Slytherin party. Earlier that morning, Mattheo's teasing in class had left me flustered and frustrated, but now, as I replayed those moments in my head, a mischievous smile tugged at the corners of my lips.

The memory of his touch, his whispered words, and the forbidden thrill of our secret interactions still lingered, leaving me feeling a delicious ache between my thighs. I pretended to be mad at him for crossing boundaries during Professor Flitwick's lecture, but deep down, I knew I was equally to blame for letting the tension build to such intoxicating levels.

As I contemplated my next move, the allure of the party beckoned to me—a chance to indulge in the forbidden, to dance on the edge of danger. I could almost feel the pulsating music, the dim lights, and the whispered promises of excitement and pleasure.

"Two can play this game," I thought, my heartbeat quickening with anticipation. The thrill of the unknown, coupled with the lingering desire from our unfinished business, fueled my decision. With a determined grin, I tossed the blanket aside and rose from my bed.

I selected a tiny, short green top , hugging my curves in a way that exuded confidence. Paired with a sleek pair of black shorts, a bold statement . Adding a touch of glamour, I applied a vibrant red lipstick that accentuated my lips, and I let my hair cascade down in loose waves, framing my face.

To balance the daring look, I threw on a large black hoodie( that won’t stay on for too long) , leaving the zipper slightly open.The contrast between the snug, the revealing outfit

Tonight, I would embrace the tantalizing dance of temptation and desire, fully aware that every step taken towards the Slytherin party would lead me deeper into the seductive web we had woven together.

"Hey, y/n! Glad you made it," Enzo greeted me with a mix of surprise and warmth as I entered the party. He glanced at me, momentarily taken aback, before announcing my presence to everyone in the room.

"Y/n's here!" Enzo exclaimed, drawing attention to me. "Matt said you were sick and wouldn't be able to come."

I flashed a smile, inwardly amused by Matteo's excuse. "I feel so much better now," I replied, playing along and maintaining an innocent facade. Despite trying to act casual, I couldn't help but notice the gazes lingering on my chest, emphasizing the alluring effect of the green top I had chosen. I met Matteo's eyes, silently acknowledging the unspoken game between us.

He was clearly irritated by the attention I was drawing, but I couldn't help but feel victorious in my little game. With a determined smile, I made my way over to where he was seated, bypassing the available seats and settling directly onto his lap.

I leaned in, planting a kiss on his cheek and greeted him, "Hi, handsome." His eyes reflected a mix of frustration and anger as he tightly wrapped his arms around my waist, though I played innocently by running my fingers through his hair.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked with a harsh tone, clearly not pleased.

"Just here to see you," I replied, my gaze batting innocently at him. "Felt terrible staying angry after our little disagreement this morning." A sly smile played on my lips. "Didn't you miss me?"

Before he could reply, a voice cut through the charged atmosphere."Matteo, mate, another drink?" Jack, or perhaps that was his name, stood beside us, his gaze politely averted. A flicker of something unreadable crossed Matteo's face.

After Jack melted back into the crowd, Matteo's voice dropped to a low growl. "I see what you're doing."

I opened my mouth to respond, but he cut me off again. "And zip up that damn hoodie." His hand reached for the zipper, but I caught his wrist , realizing how close it was to my sensitive areas.

"No," I countered, my voice firm but playful. "It's stiflingly hot in here. Perhaps I'll just take it off ."I strategically brushed my hips against him, scanning the surrounding area for any watchful eyes. Thankfully, the party was in full swing, a blur of dancing bodies and overflowing drinks.

"Stay still," he said through gritted teeth, a hint of desperation lacing his voice.

Despite his demand for me to stop moving, I couldn't resist the temptation to tease him further. My actions were deliberate, a playful challenge to his control.

"Why? Does it bother you?" I asked, feigning innocence but knowing exactly the effect I was having on him. His grip on my waist tightened, a silent warning.

"You're playing with fire, sweetheart," he warned, his voice low and tinged with desire.

I leaned in closer, our faces mere inches apart. "Maybe I like the heat," I whispered, my lips brushing against his ear.

A startled gasp escaped my lips as his hand squeezing the plush of my ass , a possessive gesture that sent a tremor through me. The heat of his gaze seemed to sear through the carefully constructed facade of innocence, the tell-tale flush creeping up my neck a stark contrast to the coolness of the room. My breath hitched, a silent whimper escaping my lips as I unconsciously pressed closer, the frantic rhythm of our breaths mirroring the rising tension.

He could see the flustered look i had on because of the thought of being caught trying to dry-hump him. But he could see the reddened tips of my ears and hear my small whimpers along with your breaths heavying the more i pressed myself against him.

He leaned in, his lips trailing a path of fire down my neck before finding a more sensitive spot. A jolt of electricity shot through me, a strangled moan almost escaping my lips.

"Did you truly believe you held the reins, darling?" he murmured, a sardonic edge to his voice.

"Still dwelling on this morning, aren't you, my love?" His words came out in a murmured tone, a sly smirk forming at the corner of his lips. "I find this new side of you quite appealing—so eager and yearning for me that you couldn't resist acting on your desires."

He could discern the flustered expression I wore, a result of the daring move of trying to dry-hump him. Yet, he also noticed the reddened tips of my ears and heard the soft whimpers escaping me, blending with the deepening breaths as I pressed myself against him.

After a teasing kiss to my neck, his tone turned huskier as he remarked, "Did you honestly believe you were in control, bunny?"

"Still dwelling on this morning, aren't you, my love?" His words came out in a murmured tone, a sly smirk forming at the corner of his lips. "I find this new side of you quite appealing—so eager and yearning for me that you couldn't resist acting on your desires."

In response, I nodded, a small whimper escaping my lips, as I ground my throbbing need against his hardened bulge. "P-please, I need you," I pleaded, my desperation evident.

"You look exquisite when you're craving my cock to fill you up, love," he whispered, his voice filled with lust and desire.

"How badly do you want me to satisfy you, baby?" He inquired, his hand moving forward to gently stimulate my neglected bundle of nerves with the pad of his thumb.

"Badly, very badly," I replied quickly, my voice trembling with desperation, as I lifted my head to meet his gaze, my eyes silently imploring him to fulfill my intense yearning.

I took a deep breath, my voice quivering with need as I angled my hips to align my still-covered entrance with his cock.

"Please," I breathed, my plea hanging in the air as he teased me, moving my hips against his bulge with his hands firmly gripping my ass.

His teasing sent shivers down my spine, making my heart race. "Please, Matt, I need you. Please stop teasing me," I begged, leaning forward to press soft kisses along his jawline and down to his neck.

A guttural groan escaped him as I sucked on his skin, leaning his head back , giving me more space marking him as mine, marks he would wear with pride the next day. "Fuck, bunny, you don't know what you're doing to me," he grunted.

His hardened cock rubbed against my clothed pussy, sending a delightful tingling sensation through my entire body. "Feels so good," I moaned breathlessly, my hand entangled in his dark hair, while I moved on him with increasing fervor.

His hips bucked against mine, his cock rubbing me just right through our clothes. "I could cum like this. Do you feel good too?" I asked, pulling his hair slightly to lift his face as I demanded his lips to meet mine. Our kiss was messy, his tongue taking the lead effortlessly.

Despite us being almost fully dressed, he made me feel incredible, my pleasure building rapidly as I rode him and rubbed my clit on his cock eagerly.

Suddenly, he took control, moving me faster. My head fell back, and I trembled heavily in his hands. "Don't stop, please, Matt. I'm close," I whimpered, my hands balling into fists on his chest, crumpling the fabric of his shirt.

He encouraged me with soft kisses, his hips bucking harder against mine, causing me to feel him twitching. That was my breaking point.

I came hard, my moans and profanities filling the air. I barely noticed how tightly I had clenched my hands into his chest, quickly withdrawing when I realized I might have left a few marks. What would our friends say? Panic started to set in.

But he cut through my thoughts, burying his face in my neck, his lips grazing against my shoulder. "Don’t panic, bunny. No one was watching, and if that makes you feel any better, I would kill anyone who did."

I smiled, reassured by his words, and felt his hands roam around my back.

"Now, lets take this to your room. Enough with the games " he said, zipping up my hoodie before standing up.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

[loki-zen]

pokemon shouldn't be food. like it can be a vegetable but not a human constructed food item like bread dough or something. like of all the things you could have picked

in short:

[cripplecharacters]

so with a OC in a pokemon universe, who uses a wheelchair, I'm thinking they would have a psychic type service pokemon that helps them with things such as using telekinesis to reach things on high shelves, or to levitate them in their wheelchair upstairs, would this be something bad?

Hello!

The concept could be a possibility but there are a few things that have me concerned. We've discussed the concept of "disability-negating magic" on this blog before and this can apply to magical forces outside of the character's own abilities such as a magical artifact or -- in this case -- the abilities of a Pokémon.

While having the Pokémon use their abilities to reach objects on higher shelves, open doors, or retrieve dropped objects from the ground is fine, having the Pokémon use their abilities to carry them -- with or without their wheelchair -- is veering into the territory of erasing their disability.

Given the limits and the vast possibilities of the Pokémon universe, it can be a difficult line to walk to give your character a support Pokémon while also taking care not to erase their disability.

The tasks I outlined above -- retrieving objects, opening doors, etc. -- are all tasks that can be done by real service animals. The only difference is how they're doing it.

While a service dog may pick up an object in their mouth or use their nose to press a button to open a door, the psychic Pokémon may use telepathy to do these tasks.

Although it could be okay to have the Pokémon help them navigate inaccessible buildings every so often, it shouldn't be something that happens all the time. Instead, maybe consider other ways that your OC could get around.

Do the buildings have an elevator or a ramp? If not, why? Do they have another way to get around?

If their Pokémon is always the one carrying them up the stairs, what does that say for the accessibility standards in the world? What happens to disabled people who don't have psychic Pokémon?

If you do decide to have their Pokémon do this on occasion (For example, having a meeting in an inaccessible building), I'd suggest showing how it affects both your OC and their Pokémon. Does it take a toll on their Pokémon? Is your OC at all unnerved/disoriented by being floated up? I'd imagine it'd be an odd feeling.

There's also other alternatives with service Pokémon. For example, using a dog-like Pokémon -- like Growlithe, Lillipup, or Rockruff -- as a "normal" service animal. Or using a machinery-type Pokémon in combination with assistive technology or other forms of accessibility devices. For example, a chair lift that's powered by a Klink (In a mechanical gear sense) or an electric Pokémon (In an electricity sense).

Even with the psychic Pokémon, it could be interesting to explore how that interacts with technology for accessibility.

Maybe they have a slightly steep ramp to get into their home and their Pokémon gives them a bit of an extra boost with their telepathy? Or maybe they push them up the ramp, like a friend or family member may push somebody in a wheelchair?

In both these situations, your OC would still retain the control and their Pokémon would be assisting them, not taking over for them.

When it comes to the mixing of magic and disability, I find it's best to refer back to what's possible in reality and find ways to play with that. It's a good way to ensure that you're not overstepping and accidentally erasing your character's disability while still allowing you to worldbuild and explore the possibilities -- which, given the Pokémon world, are so many!

Cheers,

~ Mod Icarus

[otomiyaa]

Wanderer x Ticklish Male!Reader

Romantic + 16. “I was trying to sleep!” Requested by @blobbirobbi for my 1K Followers Event🌻

So sweet and peaceful. It was only because you knew exactly where to spot your boyfriend that you managed to find him. Anyone else would just walk right past him.

There, up in the tree, you could see his hat sticking out just slightly, and a part of his foot as well, with his leg swinging back and forth. He was napping again!

Instead of climbing all the way up there to wake him, you used your anemo powers of your own to create a little ball of wind and air.

"Hehe," you giggled playfully. The ball of air twirled in your hand, and you used it to suck in some of the mess from the ground; such as acorns, leaves, sand, until you had a nice little dirty bullet to aim of a decent size.

"And, fire!" you chirped, sending it all the way up in a perfectly well-aimed curve ball. It disappeared out of sight, but you knew from the adorable sound that it hit him right in the face.

"URGh!" you could hear him yelp, and you grabbed your stomach and laughed.

"I was trying to sleep!" he yelled. Your boyfriend Scaramouche's angry face appeared up in the tree as he glared down at you, and you giggled to see his annoyed expression - in bad quality because he was up so high you could barely see him.

"I know! Which is why I did it! Come down, let's spar! It's too early to sleep," you told him.

"You think that's funny hmm?" he asked. You nodded.

"Yeah!" It was a surprising sight to see him get out of the tree, and he came levitating down, approaching you slowly but steadily. Oh. As he came closer and closer, you noted the vengeful look on his face.

"I repeat, you think its funny to wake me?" He definitely seemed more awake now.

"Uh yeah?" you said nervously, but you already started to walk. Like, walk fast.

"Oh you'll regret that boy," Scara said, and well yes, you started to run. And he flew even faster!

"Nohoo stay away! Don't you dare!" you warned, looking over your shoulder to see him chase after you.

"What, you woke me up to spar didn't you? Let's spar."

Eeeeep! He already held out his fingers and wiggled them at you.

"NO! I knohohow what you're gohohonna do- eeehehe!" you giggled nervously.

"Really? Do tell!" Good thing was that Scara was no longer tempted to have that boring afternoon nap again. Bad thing was that you were about to die laughing.

... was that a bad thing though?

"EEK!" you shrieked as you tripped over your feet. You fell down, and your fast and nimble boyfriend landed right on top of you. Sitting on you as if he was going to ride a horse, he kept you pinned down firmly. He dug his knees against you, both for more control and balance, and he tapped his fingers lightly against your sides.

"Gotcha. Any last words?" You could feel his fingers glide under your shirt and brush lightly against your bare sides. Oh god oh god you were in for it. You shook your head nervously and already giggled like a madman.

"Brihihing ihihit!" you laughed defiantly. You could hear him chuckle fondly.

"Alright then."

It wasn't the first time he tickled you. He tickled you many many times, and you were always pleased to return the favor. However in this position, face-down with him straddling you from behind, it looked like you weren't going anywhere and that tickling him back was only a distant dream, and not your reality.

"AAAHahaha! Nohoho dohohon't!" you squealed. You could feel him carefully push up your clothes further, his fingers digging eagerly into your sides, tummy and ribs as they climbed up.

He claimed all of your ticklish torso as his own territory and tickled you anywhere he could reach. Which was quite a lot, even in this position.

"That's for waking me," he said. You banged your fist against the groud and cackled shamefully.

"You weheheren't s-supposed to slahaha-sleep in the fihihirst plahahace!" you managed to say with difficulty. Your laughter really was all over the place, and so were your boyfriend's fingers.

"Really? Just because you're my boyfriend, you think you can determine my sleeping schedule? Well, happy to hear you love me that much. In that case, I'll determine when you're gonna laugh. How does that sound?"

It sounded crazy. Just because it was a lame thing to say, and also, you were already laughing!

You flailed your arms and managed to grab a handful of leaves from the forest floor. You threw it backwards and used some anemo strength for extra power. You knew it hit him in the face from the cute little growl he let out.

"You'll regret that!" he hissed, and you squeaked when he flipped you over on your back. With one hand he caught both your hands and pinned them above your head. With his free hand he tickled your armpits and ribs until you were screaming bloody murder.

"AHAHAAH! OKAha-okahahhaay I'm sohohorry! Wahahaha!"

He wasn't just giving you a random punishment. You could see from the smile on his face that he was really enjoying himself here.

"Sorry, what did you say?" he asked with a playful grin. He was even daydreaming! In the middle of his tickle attack on you!

"I'm sohohorry sweetieehehheheh! Ahhaha not thehehere!" you cackled when he tickled your underarm mercilessly. There was nothing you could do. The tickling took all of your strength, and that cute smile of his wasn't much help either.

"Promise you won't wake me up again?"

Well that was a hard one. "I cahahan't!" you laughed in all honesty. Scara seemed impressed by your truthful answer.

"Hmm okay. Do you accept then, that the next time you disturb my nap, I will tickle you twice as much?"

Gladly. "Suhuhure! Wahahahah- nohohow lehehet me breheheathe!"

At last his speedy fingers came to a stop, and you gasped for air. Scaramouche smiled gently and cupped your cheek.

"Good. Then for now, I forgive you." He gave you the sweetest kiss, and you closed your eyes and relaxed underneath him. Ah, he was the most dramatic and merciless boyfriend ever. But he was your boyfriend, and you loved him, no matter what silly things he would do.

"Well, now that we did that. I should go back to sleep." To your horror he suddenly flew back into the air, up into the trees again.

"Hey! Where are you going- don't you dare!" You ran after him and could swear you saw a playful smile on his face right before he disappeared between the leaves. Oh that little...

Well, if he was trying to tease and provoke you.... You rolled up your sleeves and wiggled your fingers. Maybe you should see how those rusty tickle skills of your own were doing then!

[dailyadventureprompts]

Dungeon: The Hole in the Hill

Of all places, a portal to the underdark has opened along a sleepy stretch of country road, drawing amature explorers and lookie-loos who all want to know the origin behind the mysterious purple glow. Those bravest to be first across the threshhold bring stories of glowing mushrooms and caverns full of odd animal life, a few even returning with souveniers in the form of carrot sized fingers of crystal. Naturally the party will be headed below next, going even deeper in search of greater treasures.

Adventure Hooks:

Diverted from his dayjob of selling snakeoil town to town when his cart and campsite fell into the original sinkhole, an enterprising merchant by the name of Canny Farwell has laid claim to the sinkhole and is charging admittance to its uppper levels at three silvers a head. He's got dreams of establishing a mine to exploit the riches of the seeminly bottomless cavern, and while he's more than happy to give the party a tour through the sinkhole's upper reaches ( full of facts he's made up), he's not going to let the party venture deeper and jump his claim without putting up a fuss.

However stubborn Canny might be, he's all to willing to drop his arguments and bolt for the surface when a pack of monsters from the world below show up hounding the party back to the surface. Forced to act quickly to protect the onlookers, the party will have to delve deep into the depths to force these creatures back into their original territory.

Somewhere in the depths the party can find the smashed remannts of the huckster's cart, being picked over by a gnomish waif with leaden skin. She speaks no common and is TERRIFIED of the party, but once they convince her they're no threat (food has a way of briding all cutural divides, especially when the hesitant party has been roughing it in a cavern for a fortnight) she'll use mud-doodles and pantomime to indicate that she was forced to flee her village when they were attacked by... somehing... that has enslaved her people and forced them to mine the great crystals in the cavern depths.. which might've been what set off the sinkhole in the first place.

The girl, Takta, is a svirfneblin, a deepgnome who lives along with her people in a hidden subterranian village, enjoying a humble existance while keeping themselves concieled from the underdark's major predators. That was until a few months ago, when a levitating duergar ironclad loomed its way into the network of caverns their community called home. The vessel known as The Esretnatzar and its crew of grey-dwarves are an exploratory expidition sent off to expand the borders of their autocratic homeland and to seek sites worthy of colonization. After nearly a year and a half evading perils of the world below they're delighted to have found a people to subjugate, useing psionics to expose and subdue Takta's people, forcing the Svirfneblin to act as laborers and servants as they dig themselves in.

Further Adventures

Its hard to oust an occupying army that can read your mind, and while the deepgnomes are no strangers to defending their home they have little defence against mind-censors, a fanatically dogmatic group of telepaths who kept order onboard the Esretnatzar during its long voyage and have now turned their attention to keeping the chattel in line. They've moved the troublemakers (including Takta's older brother) into a makeshift prison and while it doesn't compare to the reducation halls of their homeland it does keep the gnomes working for fear of their loved ones being hurt. Freeing these individuals from lockup is the first step to fighting back.

While the Esretnatzar's captian Fulgite Faultsaw is eager to return home bathed in the glory of expanding the hegemony, many in her crew do not feel the same. They're sick of the ship and sick of skimming dark caverns, and just want to keep their boots on the groud (even if it means pressing them into some deepgnome necks). Some others, careful to guard their thoughts from the ship mind-censors, imagine staying in the village, establishing a new clanhold and living like thanes. Perahaps this division can be exploited, convincing the recalictrant crew to surrender while pushing the hardliner faction back out into the dark.

After the party has done their thing and these cavernous conquistadors are defeated the village will be in rough shape, and while the deepgnomes will galdly put in the years of work to make it funcitonal again perhaps the party can suggest another option: moving the village to the far more defensible mouth of the sinkhole, allowing the svirfneblin to continue their subterranian agriculture in the upper reaches while having the whole of the upper world to fall back to if they need it. It'll be a hard sell, both to the traditionalist gnomes whos' lives have already been disrupted enough, and the authorities on the surface, but should the party succeed they'll get to see a new settlement blossom over the course of their adventures.

[slitheringghost]

Voldemort Fic Recs, Part 2

Part 1 is here. Part 3 is here.

colours by @allthepeculiarthings (900 words, T)

Rec: A beautiful Tom character study, and I love the detail of Merope's green shawl.

It was Mrs Cole, herself only a young girl at the time, who had thought to take his mother’s shawl from around her shoulders, and bundle him in it instead. His mother, after all, would have had no use for it, resting under a few feet of soft earth. It was a frayed and ragged thing, and the green dye of the crocheted wool faded further and further into the dangerous territory of grey each year, but Tom clung to it nevertheless. His shawl, his name, and his life – he clung onto all he had inherited from his mother like a starved dog guarding its last meal.

time turns and tells them by @slashmarks (Tom & Abraxas, 1.4k, T)

Rec: The most fascinating version of how the Death Eater cult started - from a Tom that never really planned on it or on becoming Voldemort.

Hogwarts uniforms were a great class leveler as long as you were a student. Afterward, of course, the Wizarding World sorted most of the upstarts straight back out. Tom hadn’t needed to be sorted, being the best and brightest, except that he would have gone out buggering a lethifold before he resigned himself to pushing papers at a Ministry desk to buy first generation class privilege without even the paltry efficiency of doing it with a fountain pen instead of a quill. Magic in Britain, he had long ago concluded, was wasted on the magical. They had no imaginations at all. - Abraxas was the only one of his friends he’d let keep calling him Tom at school, less as a sign of intimacy and more because ‘Voldemort’ was terminally wasted on him. Abraxas’s great gift for amoral calculation was marred only by a dire lack of romance in his soul. But he was also the only friend Tom still saw regularly, have retired the Voldemort character when he no longer needed to keep a dorm full of pureblood morons in line.

a learning experience by @laeveteinn (Tom/Hepzibah, 9k, T)

Rec: I love Tom's voice and characterization in this, with an unexpected twist on Hepzibah Smith.

“Tom, my boy,” Slughorn exclaims, all well-meaning, smothering concern, “you can’t work at Borgin and Burkes!” This, naturally, is the moment Tom decides he will.  (He learns that his disdain for boundaries extends far past the realm of magic.)

the tiger’s lady by slashmarks (Bellatrix/Voldemort, 4.8k, T)

Rec: A Voldemort tells Bellatrix about Merope fic. The portrayal of cyclical violence will make you ache, with Bellamort playing out Merope's past. I requested this; you can request fic from slashmarks in return for a pro-choice donation here.

“My Bella," he said, softly and directly into the back of her neck. She had missed this, or else it had come suddenly, this switch into the most dangerous of his moods. "You lie very well and very often, do you not?" She didn't know what to say, but the words came out on their own, responding to a lifetime of instincts built for just this sort of situation – when saying the wrong thing was better than saying nothing at all. "My lord knows I am a Black... And generally appreciates it." She felt him tense behind her, and for a moment she expected him to fling her into the hot stove, but instead he moved back, and he was laughing – a real, sincere laugh, a sign of genuine relaxation, and her shoulders also relaxed

The Pleiades by @saintsenara (Bellatrix/Voldemort, 2.8k, T)

Rec: Beautifully written, another version of Bellatrix and her finding strength in Merope that makes me ache.

But she could still see, as she hugged herself for warmth, the seven sisters engaged in their celestial Quidditch match. She muttered their names each night like a prayer. Alcyone Maia Sterope Taygeta Celaeno Electra Merope - ‘Do you like Quidditch?’ she asked the Dark Lord, as she levitated a coffee tray into the study. He didn’t look up from the wanted posters of himself he was inspecting at Mr Lestrange’s desk. ‘No.’ This didn’t surprise her. For all his magic, so strong that it seemed to roll off him like the waves which could be heard from the open window, there was a brittleness about the Dark Lord which made it unlikely that anyone would describe him as sporty. A healthy whack from a bludger would probably snap him clean in two.

Still Water by deslea (Bellatrix/Voldemort, Bellatrix/Rodolphus, 2.2k, M)

Rec: A post-Azkaban Bellatrix fic with an equally heartwarming Belladolphus and Bellamort.

"Show me," she said. Just that. He frowned for a moment, but then, he nodded, and then images and impressions exploded in her mind. His near-annihilation, and the struggle that followed. His boundless, relentless will to live, to find a way. To find a way back. Years alone with his own mind, with no other input to sustain him. He'd reflected and re-reflected on himself, his life, his nature, until it was like eating himself alive. And then, finally, rebuilding himself, cell upon cell, bone upon bone, skin upon muscle. To her, his body before her seemed like a work of art, the work of a great creator. That he was still himself seemed a miracle.

stray shard of soul by Laeveteinn (Tom & Delphini, 100 words, T)

Rec: An excellent Dadmort mini fic.

He hates this child’s screaming. It jangles long-numb nerves, and he considers igniting her crib. (Old habit.) But when he considers another harming her, some faceless enemy, he burns. He’d incinerate them. Next, the world.

[eleonoraalbright]

A Shared Kiss

Pairing: Roberto da Costa x fem!reader

Summary: Feeling lonely, you wander into Roberto's room to distract yourself with video games, a quick discussion of your feelings, and an even quicker make out session.

You strolled along the hallway, footsteps muffled by the rug beneath them. Xavier’s school was unusually silent. It felt as though you were the sole inhabitant of the mansion. Loneliness creeped around the corner and threatened to overtake your body to paralyze you. What was there to do except train for an upcoming mission and wait for its inevitable arrival? 

You had finished training earlier and now would remain here for who knows how long until it was time to take off and battle villains. You swayed on the spot, unsure of what there was to do, besides twiddling your thumbs. Your gaze roamed about the corridor for something to linger on and it landed on a door opposite you. An idea of how to preoccupy your time leaped into your muddled mind. 

You crossed to the door and knocked on the hardwood. A muffled, come in sounded from the other side. You swung the door open and stepped into the bedroom. In contrast to the darkened hallway, Roberto’s room was well lit. The curtains were drawn back to reveal a pleasant view of a flower garden and the basketball court. 

Roberto was sitting on the edge of his bed, eyes glued to the tv. He wore sweatpants and a black sleeveless shirt. His hair was damp as if he just finished showering. Sparing a quick glance, he greeted you. “Oh, hey.”

“Hey.” You stood there for a few seconds, hoping he would say something more. When he didn’t you said, “Would you mind if I crashed here for a while?”

He shrugged. “Go ahead.” You sat down next to him to observe the video game he was playing and asked him about it. He replied, “It’s called Balloon Fight. It’s kind of like the game Joust at the arcade, but the goal is to pop balloons. I have another controller I can hook up. Wanna play?”

Happy that he offered, you accepted his invitation. He explained the rules which were fairly easy: pop the balloons to score points, whoever scored the most, won. On the screen appeared two tiny pixelated figures in space. There were different levels to defeat. Islands floated in the black void for you to hop on to burst the levitating balloons and bubbles. 

You took great delight in popping the balloons he was aiming for and laughed when Roberto failed to do the same. He pretended to be upset, but his laughter soon joined yours. Gradually the empty pit swelling inside your stomach grew smaller and smaller in his company. As time passed, you both stopped competing and started cooperating to see how many points you could get working as a team.

The afternoon light dimmed and outside the sky turned from a soft blue to a burning orange. The shadows lengthened, showing the hours that swept by unknown to you and Roberto. When your hands began cramping you opted to just watch him as he played Caveman Games and criticized his technique of vaulting over dinosaurs.

During a rare lapse of silence, he took the opportunity to ask, “Have you been doing alright?” You were surprised at his inquiry and couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t divulge too much of the frequent hollowness settling in your mind these days. He answered himself, “You’re different. You don’t talk a lot to us. You seem sad. Everything okay?”

A swirling mixture of satisfaction and embarrassment stirred in your gut that he had noticed your change in mood. How would you respond? Should you tell him the truth or brush him off and say that you’ve been tired. You chose the former. “Have you ever felt trapped here? That you’ve missed out on normal high school experiences?”

“I suppose so. It comes with the territory of being a mutant and a superhero too.”

You sighed, picking at a stray thread on the blanket. “I feel like there’s not much else besides fighting and sitting around the school for danger to arise for us to fight over and over again.” You avoided looking at Roberto, scared that he would think you foolish. You’re part of the New Mutants for heaven’s sake. 

You knew what it meant when you agreed to attend Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. “Sure, we have homework to do and stuff, but I wish– I wish all the most I had to worry about was yucky school lunches and boyfriend troubles.” You thought about that: a boyfriend. What would that be like? What drama and complications would come from having a significant other? 

What love would sprout from such a relationship? Friends were wonderful to have, but some deeper part of you yearned to have the emotional and physical intimacy that would hopefully transpire from having a beau. Whether this desire sprang from raging teenage hormones or the human need of mutual companionship did not matter. 

“Is it shallow to want a boyfriend?” Your distress was blatant in your voice.

He shifted and your shoulders brushed. You peered at Roberto to see him regarding you with an expression that was impossible to decipher. “No, I don’t think it is.”

Relieved to hear his validation, you leaned in nearer. You weighed the wisdom of speaking aloud the comment intruding in your brain. How would he react? Would it shatter this tender, heartfelt moment? Would he withdraw in horror at the hint? Well, there was only one way to find out. You whispered, “It’s been forever since I’ve shared a kiss.”

His eyes dropped to your lips, then flickered back up to your longing stare. To your delight and dismay, he made no movement. What was he thinking at this exact second?

Would you be able to leave with your dignity still intact once he voiced his rejection? He brought his hand up to your face to trace the curve of your jaw and murmured, “Me too.”

Hope bloomed in your chest like a daffodil in spring with the accompanying butterflies fluttering in there also. You tilted your head to the right as he did but to the left. Your lips joined together in a simple kiss.

His other hand ran down your back to press you flush against him and your arms twined around his neck. This kiss was better than any before. Thrilling tingles ran down your spine, chasing away the minute amounts of trepidation left.

Roberto broke it off, a slight sigh of pleasure escaping from his mouth. You didn’t want it to end it here, and had a sneaking suspicion that neither did he. “Do you really wanna stop there?”

His pupils were dilated. His warm breath fanned your lips. He considered the question a beat before saying, “No.” He kissed you a second time. 

Passion surged you both to delve further in one another. His tongue grazed your bottom lip and entered your mouth when it opened a fraction. Your fingers combed through his dark curls, tugging on several strands in the process and he let out a soft moan at the sensation. A sense of pride washed over you, elated to have elicited such a noise from him. 

Roberto pushed you down on his bed so you laid flat on the covers with his body atop yours. One hand was braced beside your head while the other traveled to your shirt’s hem; his fingers trailed farther up your bare skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

You wanted to let out a scream of pure excitement at finding yourself in this scenario with Roberto, but didn’t, lest someone heard it through the thin walls. 

You reconciled with expressing your intense emotions by dragging your nails down his back to mirror the passion clawing inside you. His pesky shirt was getting in the way though from marking him.

He had a similar idea of marking because his lips abandoned your own to nip and suck at your neck. When that area of flesh was suitably bruised, he moved downwards to your collarbone. 

You and Roberto jumped apart when a man’s voice rang clear as a bell in both of your minds. “New Mutants, assemble in my office. Now.” You cursed at Xavier; he had the worst possible timing ever. 

You shouldn’t have dilly-dallied, but you clung to him for a couple moments longer to ask, “Can we pick this up later?”

Roberto smirked at the request and said, “Absolutely.” His thumb caressed the hickies he had made. “We’ll also have to talk about the boyfriend and girlfriend thing later.”

With that he sprung off the bed and darted out the room. You smiled after him. Perhaps, the following days wouldn’t be spent in the same monotonous cycle.

[would-this-pokemon-be-a-friend]

Hi, sorry if it already has been done, but would Darkrai be a friend?

I have very low hope of it having a good grade, but there's hope!

This one may be a surprise, but it’s probably a pleasant one for fans of this pokémon, myself included. Darkrai would be… well… an okay pet. There’s a lot of factors that get in the way of a solid recommendation here, but we’re not looking at Giratina or anything. It’s complicated.

Considering the basics, Darkrai is on the larger size for pet compatibility. Despite their ghostly appearance, Darkrai is pretty heavy at over 100 pounds, and they stand almost 5 feet tall. Mobility in an enclosed space might not be too big of a problem for them, given their ability to levitate, but this size will disqualify them for many pet owners.

One factor that is very important to consider is that Darkrai, being a mythical pokémon, is exceptionally rare to encounter. While they have been spotted in regions around the world, the chances of tracking down Darkrai to adopt are pretty low for inexperienced pokémon trainers. The only solid lead I can offer you from the pokédex is that Darkrai is most active on new moon nights (Diamond).

Unfortunately (and this is the biggest factor holding Darkrai back), this pokémon might not be happy to be a house pet. Darkrai has been the subject of countless legends and horror stories due to their ability to inflict nightmares upon sleeping humans, but they are not a particularly malevolent creature (Pearl, Shining Pearl, Legends: Arceus). The pokédex stresses again and again that Darkrai “means no harm” (Platinum, Black/White, Black2/White2). Most of these negative encounters with this pokémon are a result of intrusions on their territory: in order to protect themself, Darkrai drives humans and other pokémon away with this power (Platinum, HeartGold/SoulSilver). This is a pokémon with a natural distrust of humans for whatever reason. I’m afraid this means that they would be unlikely to want to live with you until you’ve built up a strong bond, something that would be really hard to do considering their formidable deterrent abilities.

As has been previously alluded, Darkrai has the ability to inflict people with terrifying dreams. Additionally, they can put anybody into a deep sleep using their signature move, Dark Void, as well as Hypnosis. Darkrai may not be exceptionally violent, but they are a massive threat to anyone asleep. Their ability, Bad Dreams, and moves like Dream Eater allow them to cause significant harm to sleeping foes. A grouchy Darkrai could be a serious problem for any owner.

Overall, given their non-violent nature and solid ease-of-care, Darkrai would make a decent pet for anyone looking for a large pet, if not for some significant issues. The pokémon’s rarity and antisocial behavior would make them a difficult friend to adopt for a vast majority of prospective owners. But you know what, go for it. What’s the worst that could happen? Terrible nightmares, that’s what. But at least they won’t vaporize you or anything!

[ant1quarian]

I bring to thee: Witherborn!

Look at the pretty guy

Info about Witherborn under the cut

Witherborn are a primarily landborn species that reside in the Nether Realm. They are often territorial and possess a kind of unusual, fear-inducing aura to any species that may get too close to them– even if the Witherborn shows no sign of violence.

They are mainly known for their intimidating height (averaging around 9’8”) and their very long, incredibly sharp tails with edges poking up like daggers. They’re essentially an extension of the Witherborn’s spine and look as such. Their claws and feet are as sharp as knives. Their teeth, often hidden and appearing as if they are flat, are about as sharp as a razor.

Witherborn mostly wear baggy pants and a cloak/cape with golden accessories here and there. Their most prominent decoration is the skull of whatever they primarily hunt that sits on their shoulder. What they hunt may not be their food source, but simply sort of like a game.

Under their sockets, two slits may sit. These are actually eyes and open up when the Witherborn is feeling aggressive.

Their senses are impressive, too– and like a Polar Bear, if you see them on the horizon, it’s likely they’ve been tracking you long enough to premeditate the hundreds of ways they could shred, rip, sever and tear your fragile body to pieces.

One of their species, most commonly used abilities is that of levitation.

This is often seen when they "perch" on their tail when they are in a relaxed state.

[rallentando1011]

Somnambulant Soulmates (rise Donnie x gn reader)

Prologue, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Word Count: 2833

“Where in the actual heck did you lead me?”

“Trying to figure that out right now. How many turns have you taken?”

“You mean to the left or right?” you inquired cautiously, steps splashing in the shallow water of the sewer tunnel you currently found yourself in. You thought that since you had taken this exact same path literally yesterday you might remember the way. Well, you thought wrong, which was why you called up the man you were on your way to meet for assistance.

Donnie huffed over the phone. “Both, preferably. Why would you go traversing through a complex labyrinth of a sewer system, not knowing where you’re going, and not keeping track of where you’ve gone?”

“Uhh, misguided faith in myself?”

“Eh. Fair enough. I’ll send auxiliary support your way.”

“‘Auxiliary support?’ What is that supposed to-”

Before you could even finish your thought, not to mention get a response, the call ended.

You gaped. Either the signal cut out, which was feasible in the sewers, or he ended the call. For Donnie’s sake, he’d better have hoped it was the former.

You froze in the eerie silence and dark, breathing tersely. Your hands hung uncomfortably off your sides, shoulders drawn tight.

What were you supposed to do now?

Well, retracing your steps seemed better than continuing further into uncharted territory. Following that logic, you pivoted and meandered cautiously back from where you came.

The tunnel came upon an especially dark section, so you turned on your phone’s flashlight. Your field of vision was small, but at least you could directly in front of you. Better than nothingness..

Suddenly, a strange noise entered your ears. Some sort of mechanical whirring. It sounded vaguely in front of you, though the reverberation from the tunnels made it hard to discern.

You tensed up again.

What if it was from those goons from last night? Or, even worse, what if it was-

As the source of the odd whirring sound came into view, you paused.

“Ohhhh my goodness…” Your startled reflexes swiftly softened as you registered the little purple drone levitating before you.

A very boop-able beak was on what you assumed to be its face, with petite propellers acting as limbs. Bottom line, it was adorable.

“Woah, how’s it hanging, dude?” the drone greeted. “D told me you got a bit turned around down here, but we’ll get you to the lair real quick.”

“Woah.” You admired the tech, tilting your head at it. “So, am I talking to Donnie or an algorithm right now?”

“Neither! The name’s S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. broski!” it- he introduced himself.

“Huh. Nice to meet you, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.,” you responded and gave your name in return. “Would you mind please showing me to Donnie?”

“No problem!” the drone floated higher excitedly before whipping around. “Follow me. We’ll be back to the lab in a jiff.”

“Thanks!”

You trailed along the polite drone in silence, weaving and wandering through dim channels until he spoke up.

“So, you and D are cool?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” You tipped your head down inquisitively. 

“I don’t know what you see in him.”

You barked out a laugh at how abrupt his sass was. “Oh?”

“Yeah! He can be super overbearing sometimes- like, won’t-even-let-me-out-of-the-lair overbearing, you know? He’s gotten better about it, but he can still be way protective.”

“Surely it can’t be that bad,” you offered. The drone did not seem to agree.

“Oh, it can, bro! One time, he padlocked my propellers and I ended up in, like, a gang almost-”

As your conversation trailed off and you two moved, the area around you grew lighter and you found yourself in the empty atrium of the lair. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. guided you up to the second floor, down a dim hallway, and to a stop in front of large, metallic doors as his rant about Donnie came to a close.

“Thanks, little guy. I appreciate the help.” You smiled, and the drone tilted his head and returned the gesture.

“Of course, bro! Just let me know if you get too bored with Donnie. Us cool people can hang out and do something less bogus.”

You chuckled. “I’ll let you know.”

With a small salute, you sent him whirring off.

You turned to face the sturdy-looking doors before you. Just as you moved to rap on them, the doors opened with a heavy sound of air. You took a confused glance to the right, left, before stepping into the lab.

The room consisted mostly of metallic silver hues with tables and shelves stacked up with a plethora of technological treasures. Purple mood lights illuminated the room softly, though it was still a lot more effective than your flashlight was.

Sounds of clinging and clanging proliferated from somewhere behind a shelf. You followed them, expecting to find your companion tinkering on something - perhaps the invention he was researching at the library?

Instead, you turned the corner to see him using the titanium arms that extended from his battle shell to swipe what was probably a literal ton of empty energy drinks off of his desk and into a trash can beside it.

You interrupted his tidying up with a cough to announce your presence.

Startled, he snapped his head back to look at you, his technology not ceasing to clear the irrelevant items from his desk.

“Oh. You made it. Congratulations,” he said, though his monotonous tone did not invoke any sentiment of felicitations.

“Yeah, I made it, little thanks to you.”

“I take it S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. behaved himself?”

“He was an angel.” You put a hand over your heart and walked up to him just as a thought struck you. “By the way, how did you know where to send S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.?”

“That is unimportant right now. What matters iiiis-” he paused to gesture to his desk, “-science! Engineering, to be more specific, but we can delve into that more later.”

“Hm.” You leaned over the desk, viewing a highly detailed blueprint and sheet of notes. The thought that he probably  definitely tracked your call faded as you immersed yourself in his work. “You mentioned a prototype of this yesterday?”

“I admire your tenacity, but would you not prefer to discuss the workings of the machine before seeing the results?” he queried.

“Is it not helpful to vary in learning techniques? I’m game for some visual learning.”

“Sigh, if you insist.”

Donnie turned around, delicately grabbed an object from a shelf beside him, set it down on the desk.

The metal object was spherical, for the most part, with some geometric patterns on the bottom to prop it up. It was sizable, though wieldy enough to be portable. On the side of it was an ingrained insignia you’d seen on his other tech, and beside that was an odd yet intentional divot in the side.

“About this prototype for the generator-” Donnie glanced to the side, “it’s been built, but I don’t have the juice for it yet.”

“So you don’t have the energy source for your energy source?”

He deadpanned at your teasing. “It’s a prototype for a reason.” 

“Is that dent where the mystic crystal or whatever is supposed to go?”

“Yes, it is intended to be for a crystal, though I’ll take any viable source I can get. Now, shall we discuss the behind the scenes?”

You nodded.

Before crashing into his own chair, he pulled up a stool for you. Oddly considerate, but you wouldn’t complain.

From talk of sinusoidal waves, frequencies, output and input responses from certain mystic crystals, the conversation went into a plenitude of tangentially related topics, the minutiae of which he had to explain to you, but you got the majority of it. However, such conversation came at a price, for one cannot blab and/or yap for an hour consecutively without obtaining a splitting headache and requiring sustenance.

Eventually, you cleared your throat to get his attention off of the blueprints for the energy source. The turtle met your gaze curiously.

“All this ‘being a genius’ stuff has left me positively parched,” you spoke up, popping the p’s. “You have anything to drink in here? Or is the lair’s kitchen better?”

It felt kind of weird to refer to his residence as a lair, but you were trying.

“This is a laboratory; it would be reprehensible to bring food or beverage in here.”

The two of you glanced down at the miniature trash can adjacent to his desk and the cans overflowing from it.

“Your trash begs to differ.”

He clicked his tongue. “Those cans are empty now, and I don’t have more. We probably have water in the fridge.”

“How about we go somewhere instead? Go for a walk, head to a cafe, get some fresh air. I would prefer not getting lost here again.”

Donnie hummed, tapped his chin.“Not a bad idea. You’re buying, though.”

“Sure!”

He blinked. “I was joking. Of course I’m going to buy my own beverage.”

“We’ll see,” you smiled, hopping up from your seat. “Do you want to grab a coat or something? The wind chill’s bad today.”

“Forcing me out of my lab for food, insisting I prepare for the weather, if I didn’t know better I might say you care about me.” Donnie raised a playful eyebrow.

“Don’t flatter yourself. And I haven’t forced you anywhere. For legal purposes.”

“You can wait here. I’ll be back in a moment.” Donnie hopped up and exited the lab, presumably to get some warmer clothes.

As he slipped out of the room, you traced a finger over the blueprints he had gushed over so adamantly. So much time and effort and knowledge had been poured into every aspect of this project, and that, not to mention the complexity of it, was enough to gain your respect. You pulled out your phone, snapped a quick picture of the paper, not the prototype for now, and slipped it back into your pocket.

You waited for an uncomfortable moment, literally twiddling your thumbs, trying to seem casual. There was a literal trove of things to check out or explore in the room, but you did not know how much time you had. 

And you couldn’t risk getting caught.

So you waited. And waited.

Okay, either Donnie ditched you or he just took forever to get ready.

Thinking back to how late he was to April’s party heavily implied the latter.

After another moment of just standing next to his desk, the sound of footsteps padding closer drew your attention up.

Lo and behold, in the doorway stood Donnie with crossed arms.

His mask and goggles remained the same, steadfast on his head, but he did put on some clothes. A snug black turtleneck and flowy lavender cargo pants had joined the ensemble, though there was still a severe lack of shoes.

“Okay, Steve Jobs.” The comment slipped out of your mouth before you could process it. It came across lightheartedly enough, though, based on Donnie’s grin.

“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it, because that’s going straight up here.” He tapped his index to his temple and started walking out of the lab. You followed after.

“I guess with all that square footage something’s bound to go up there.”

He wrinkled his nose in distaste.

You elbowed

“I’m kidding. Your brain capacity is bound to be maxed out already with all that knowledge.”

“Thanks? That- wasn’t derogatory, right?”

“What do you think?”

“That you’re patronizing me?”

“Sort of. I was mostly calling you smart, in a roundabout way.”

“Huh. So, thanks?”

“Welcome.”

You two quickly made your way out of the lair and onto the surface’s streets.

You realized just as quickly that you had no idea where you were headed to.

“Uhh, D?”

“I know. Unless you have other suggestions, I know a place nearby.”

“Oh, yeah, please lead the way. I genuinely had no idea where to go.”

“Ha,” he grinned, taking the lead down a few streets and corridors and bringing you two to a quaint coffee shop. String lights, beige bricks, sleek tables and booths, the store was modern and comely.

Of course, with it being New York City, the line was huge, but this place was concealed well enough that it at least wasn’t down the road.

While waiting in line, you didn’t talk much, instead opting to either scroll on your phones or try to figure out which kind of coffee or tea you wanted.

As you neared the register, still having no idea what you wanted, you passed the small refrigerated shelf of items.

“Oh, I’ve seen these before!” Your attention caught on some bottles of Yakult, so you selected one of the original flavors. “Never tried it though. Want to try it together?”

“Why not?” he grinned uncertainly and flashed a couple of thumbs up.

“That’s the spirit!”

You two made it to the register and ended up buying the probiotic drinks along with a couple of baked goods. Before he could make a move to pay for at least his items, you swooped in and bought them all with an innocent grin.

His glare saw through your unassuming demeanor.

You got your confections and drinks before making your way to an available booth. You took up a seat across from him and tried the new drink.

“I like it.” You nodded. It was citrusy, smooth, overall pleasant to indulge in.

“Oh. Mmmm…” he shuddered, forcing it down with a queasy smile on his face.

“Huh. You hate it,” you observed bemusedly. You relished the panic that washed over him at your comment.

“What? Nooo. This- this is very… not bad,” he faltered under your smug stare.

“It’s fine!” you reassured as you slid his Yakult toward yourself. “You don’t have to drink it if you don’t like it.”

“But-” he interjected, glancing down at the accursed drink, then back up to you. “But you bought it for me. I hardly consider it amiable to discard something that someone else purchased.”

“Well, luckily for us both, it’s not going to waste.”

Before he had the opportunity to ask you to elaborate, you took a long sip of the probiotic beverage. You smiled while doing so, coming face to face with a floored turtle when you set it back down on the table.

He stared numbly at you before stammering out, “I- you- do you have any idea how many germs we just shared?” 

“Oh well,” you shrugged. “Despite the atrocious things that come out of it, I think you have a fairly clean mouth. Now, how about we get you something else to drink? Something that you don’t find atrocious.”

“Fine, but I’ll be paying for it this time.”

You smiled knowingly, hand already fastened on your wallet. “We’ll see.”

The grin stayed smugly planted on your face as you made it to the front counter and slapped your payment down before he could.

“You’re just gonna have to settle with buying next time,” was your response to his scowl.

“Next time?” Donnie seemed taken aback.

You shrugged playfully. “Unless you don’t want to do this again. I’m good either way.”

“Um, no, n-next time’s on me,” he said hesitantly.

“Alright then. Do you want to tell the barista what you want?” you urged, indicating toward a visibly disinterested worker behind the counter.

“Right!” Donnie finally made it back onto this plane of reality and sprung into action, making his selection from the refrigerated section beside the counter.

“Flavorless juice?” Your jaw dropped as he slid it to the worker.

“Uh, yeah? They’ve got the good kind here. 50% less flavor…”

“Okay then…” you opted to judge him silently and let the man enjoy his juice, albeit an atrocious variety of juice.

You started walking back to the booth before a notification on your phone made you pause. Taking it out, your eyes widened.

“Oh, uh, I spent a lot longer with you than I thought I did. Um, I’ve got to go now, but I’ll catch you later?”

“Y-Yeah! Later!”

You left him standing there with a smile and a couple of finger guns before bounding off toward the exit and out of his view.

Once you left his field of vision, he looked back down at his drink. The drink you bought for him. The drink you spent additional time and money on to get for him just because he couldn’t texturally handle the other one you’d bought him.

What you mentioned earlier about doing this again sounded quite nice.

Perhaps, instead of waiting for fate or probability or whatever was at play to cause you to run into each other again, it could be a more active endeavor, something conscious.

That didn’t sound half bad to him.

(chapter artwork HERE)

Taglist~ @rottmntsimp

@envyjmoney

[casteliacityramen]

Impossible.

Rio stared, dumbfounded, to the heavens as she lay on her back. She charged at the intruder with a steel wing, but he caught her attack between his palms and threw her onto the ground like a rag doll. She thought the first time was a fluke, but if he was able to do it a second time…

The dust cleared from her vision to reveal the cloudless sky. The sun suddenly felt all too bright and all too revealing.

"How?" Rio asked, lying still on the ground with her wings spread flat on the dry dirt, "How did you catch that?"

"You might be the strongest wyvern on Twist Mountain," The Hero King of Ideals beamed, "but I'm the baddest living thing on the West side of this continent!"

The Hero placed his hands on his hips, took a deep inhale through his nose, and laughed out his exhale.

"Hah! I miss how simple this is," the Hero brushed a lock of light green hair away from his face, "'Might makes right' is the easiest governing system of all. Just be the strongest and you get to make all the rules!"

Rio craned her neck upwards off the ground to glare at this… naked mankey. This sack of meat and bone who dared to trespass into her territory and challenge her authority. The same one who dared to claim that he was the strongest person here, in front of her.

She's beaten everything from a raging Hydreigon to an entire Durant colony. Ever since she was born, she fought wing, fang, and talon to establish herself on this mountain. Her mountain.

This is beyond insulting!

"Your Majesty, your hands-"

"Ah, what of them? This is nothing!" The King turned towards his group of bodyguards and raised both his clenched fists into the air. Small trickles of blood dripped from under his tattered gloves and down onto his forearms.

"I haven't had this much excitement in years!" The Hero King exclaimed. His face fell a little when his company provided concerned glances instead of the roars and cheers that he was typically used to.

He turned to Rio and extended a hand for her to help herself, but Rio frowned deeply at the sight of the dirtied, bloodied gesture. With a beat of her wings against the ground, she flew up, rolled to level herself, and levitated at eye level with him.

The human and pokemon guards raised their respective weapons, fangs, horns, and claws at her, but an obsidian colored dragon raised a clawed hand to lower them. The one whose name she heard whispered throughout the valleys surrounding Twist Mountain. The one she actually wanted to fight. Zekrom.

"You're going to give your wife so much grief when she finds out you've been wrestling with dragons again," Zekrom laughed.

The Hero shrugged and wiped his hands on his clothes the same way a child would brush their palms after eating something sticky.

"What do you want?" Rio glowered.

"I'm sorry, my friend. May I borrow your cloak? I will get you a new one," The King completely ignored her, speaking to a young guard. He ignored the guard, too, since the question was asked after the cloak was already torn and wrapped around his hands.

"I asked you a question!" Rio shouted, her mouth spewing technicolor flames as she readied a dragons breath. Her outburst included a pulse of psychic energy which blew the dust and sand away, leaving everyone in the vicinity clearly in view.

This time, Zekrom didn't stop the guards from taking up their arms to protect their king and crown. Any sign of playfulness dropped from his face as he tensed his own body. However, the Hero King made a gesture as if he were patting unleavened dough with both hands, telling everyone to stand down and relax.

"I've heard stories about you," The Hero King finally turned to address Rio after calming down his posse:

"I've heard stories about a dragon who felled everyone who dared challenge her. The possessed Demon of Twist Mountain… terrifying my subjects," The King loosened and clenched his fists to get a feel of his makeshift bandages. Satisfied, he lowered his hands and looked her straight in the eyes:

"But I also heard stories about a benevolent dragon who offered shelter in her territory as long as you brought her a gift. It didn't even have to be that grandiose. Even a single oran berry would suffice as an offering, as long as you were genuine. Which of these stories were true?"

The King continued to smile, despite the imminent danger. He raised his hands towards her, as if he were marveling at a grand statue of himself.

"I had to see for myself! No matter what you hear about someone, you never truly know them unless you fight them. And now I understand more than what these stories told me. Now, I want you to work for me."

The Hero King looked behind him for a reaction. The royal guards looked at each other in confusion and worry, but Zekrom rolled his eyes and laughed as if to say, "Of course you would." That was all the validation he needed.

"Perish the thought," Rio spat back.

"Oh? But what if I were to defeat you once more in this bout? What say you?" The King lowered his stance, his arms in front of him in a braced position like some sort of feral beast, "What's the saying? The third time is the charm?"

Rio felt her face get hot. Her pride and image was on the line. She couldn't let this go. She clenched her teeth, dispelling the dragon fire as she readied another physical attack.

"I'll make this deal of yours. If this is what it takes for you to get excited at your own death, so be it," Rio sharply laughed.

"Give me another story I can tell my kids!" The Hero grinned excitedly as he twisted his feet further into the dirt.

"Come!" The Hero King shouted at the top of his lungs, his voice loud enough to rattle a lesser man's bones, "Let's see if the Demon of Twist Mountain has what it takes to kill this king!"

If Rio was less enraged, she would have noticed the pebbles near the King's feet levitating off the ground. She would've seen the hand wraps whip around with more force than what the wind could provide. She would've reconsidered the moment she saw everyone, even Zekrom, take a worried step back.

But Rio was all too happy to oblige. With all of her strength, she darted forward like an arrow released from a bow, aiming to shatter the human's ribs with a Zen Headbutt. The air felt like it caught on fire and exploded from the sheer speed and sudden acceleration...

... And then she tasted dirt, stone, and dust. Again.

Impossible.

|| Ray's First Interaction with the King of Truth | Pinned Post ||

[londondungeon2]

cut from 'got you'; it's a little too sweet and not what i'm aiming for during this work,, but like free jade content???

summary// jade finds you mopping mostro lounge, you two dance, he has a new piercing

It is a surprise to Jade when he finds you mopping Mostro Lounge’s floors after closing hours. 

Everyone has been held up with studying for exams. For himself, it involves less studying and more surveillance for students in need of Octavinelle’s generous help. He will catch sight of you sometime in classes, just beyond a glass-pane, perching like a gargoyle on cobblestone walls or sweeping-slash-dancing with your broom. Whenever he looks back to steal a second glance at you, nine out ten times you are gone from his sight. 

This time, you are his territory. So, he will not let you vanish like a glittering fairy caught on a breeze. Jade makes sure to catch the mop when your hands release it in alarm.

“Jade!” You smile, turning only your head back while held in his arms.

“Hello there,” Jade hums. Sevens, he loves when you smile at him. Sometimes, he will vanish from your sight in the library or hallways, only to return so he can get a second serving of your bright, greeting smile – your amorous affection reversed just for him. 

You shift in his arms. “Your song is playing right now! Such a funny coincidence.”

Jade takes the offered earplug of your MP3 from your fingers. His ear is a bit tender from his new piercing. He recognizes it right away, dreamy alternative singing through the faulty, aged appliance. 

“And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain; don’t carry the world upon your shoulders.” 

Jude and Jade do sound similar, don’t they? You certainly thought they did. Which is why you often call The Fly’s cover of Jude, Jade’s song. Because you saw through his metaphorical-uniform. He sometimes feels you could push your palm on his chest and grab his heart like some creature out of sci-fi, if you only thought to try.

“So it is. What impeccable timing,” Jade says, returning the earbud to you. His hand is pushed back. 

“We haven’t danced in a while,” is all you say to his questioning look. 

This time, instead of allowing him to place the earbud in his own ear, you uptake the task. Platforms make you two at somewhat equal height. Your nails are gentle when you gingerly brush aside his black strand and place the electronic in its correct spot. “Oh, that one’s new,” you say with an awestruck lilt in your voice before half of Jade’s hearing is plugged up.

“Floyd pierced it two days ago. The intent was to do triple rather than double.” 

“I like them. They’re very nice.” Though you do not touch, he can feel your fingers hovering. What has charmed you is two dots of silver jewelry above the earbud – his double forward-facing helixes. Hesitating, you look at him through heavily mascara-ed eyelashes for permission.  

“You may touch them if you so desire.” His whole body hums in one, metaphorical purr when you grace him with the warmth of your touch. “Do be gentle though.”

“I am,” you assure, really applying no pressure at all in your touch. You tap them, listening to the clicks. “Suits you well.”

Eventually, you deflate back down to your height (with platforms) when you are done prodding at his piercings, feet un-tippy-toeing themselves. By now, Jade’s song has come to an end. He watches as you take your empty left ear and place it over his ribcage, aligning yourself to the rhythm of his heart. You reverse the MP3, music in your right ear. As you do that, Jade takes up your hands, levitating the broom into the water bucket with innate magic. 

“Hey Jude/Hey Jade.”

You cannot hear much, one ear occupied with his heartbeat, the other occupied with music. Yet, Jade has one ear free. He can clearly hear you manipulate the lyrics, singing along and substituting his name, as you two start to slow-dance together. 

You two keep snug chest to chest during the dance. The length between each string of earbud is short. As Jade listens to you to supplement his name and tenderly sing, he thinks even if the string of earbuds were not connecting you both so tightly to each other he would like to keep you like this forever. So close to his heart that with just a bit of effort you’d find a way to grab and rob him of it.

[eclaire-went-bam]

bro wtf i loaded rdr2 & while in big valley, got attacked by a cougar. fair, i was in cougar territory. killed it. started heading up to the nearby trapper to sell the hide & carcass. on the way there, got mauled by a grizzly bear.

thought that was weird, bcs i thought the bear only spawned if the cougar wasn't there. shrugged it off. killed it. started going to trapper again.

sold cougar, went back to bear to skin it, BUT ANOTHER BEAR SPAWNED IN THE SAME PLACE & MAULED ME. oh btw both times my bolt action turned into a varmint after it mauled me ??

anyways i sell them. leave. IMMEDIATELY WHEN I GET ON THE PATH A PACK OF WOLVES SURROUND ME and right before i fire my first bullet BOUNTY HUNTERS SPAWN & THEY HEAR. i run, shoot the wolves, the bounty hunters try killing me so i kill them — MORE SPAWN IN THE SAME AREA ? and in the middle of it, my horse just fucking Levitated Straight Into The Air & Died Mid-Air before we both fell

finish off the hunters & revive my horse

& IMMEDIATELY AFTER WHILE I'M SKINNING THE WOLVES MORE SPAWN ???????

[skeletinmoss]

The curse of the dark Phoenix

Chapter 13: Memories to share

First chapter | Previous

Also go follow @lovelivingmydreams because she's awesome and her writing is amazing. And I have no idea how I convinced her to work on this story with just one drawing.

Enjoy reading:

And then he was in the middle of a little village. Nothing like any village he’d seen before though. The way the houses were built, the clothes the people wore… It was so different from what he was used to.

A little boy rushed past him.

“Virgil hold up!!!” a young boy’s voice shouted.

“Sorry Michael!” the little boy said. “I just want to show mom the flowers before they go bad,” the little boy said to the bigger kid that was catching up to, what Roman assumed to be, his little brother. The boy who would grow up to be the High Mage of the Night Flame.

“If you pick them, they usually last longer V. Now take my hand and lets walk home together. At least pretend I’m looking after you,” Michael insisted.

Roman studied them both. The little boy’s hair looked lighter and shorter than what he was used to seeing from Virgil. Other than that he could definitely see this as a past version of him.

He looked so happy and carefree. As only children can.

“Welcome to the village of my youth.” Roman looked beside him and saw Virgil standing next to him. “It doesn’t exist anymore. Nothing bad. People just left for greener pastures and the village got forgotten to time. I went back a while ago, it’s nothing but open fields now. I still remember it like it was yesterday though,” he continued.

“I… It looks lovely,” Roman said, not sure what to make of it.

“I figured we could combine our options. Get the most out of this dream. I’ll teach you along the way,” Virgil promised before turning his attention back to the memory and speaking the way he did whenever he taught them anything.

“It was named RiverFort,” Virgil stated. “Because of the nearby river and the fort that was built by the guild on the other side… The magic guild that is. Mages were a rarity and ascended mages even more so. Which is why I often find myself older than everyone in the room combined these days,” Virgil joked. “This is Axilla, long before we really named ourselves that. The guild aided the villages within this unclaimed territory and in exchange we all provided what we could…” Virgil nodded ahead and they saw a man and a woman greet Virgil and his brother. The woman was pregnant. Little Virgil kissed his mother’s belly and handed her the flowers.

Then little Virgil went to greet his father who ruffled his hair before continuing a conversation with a gentleman in robes.

“You really got us out of a pickle there Remy. Any idea why those wolves left their territory to snatch our sheep?” Virgil’s father wondered. He seemed like a kind man. And an animal lover with the way he gave the mage’s horse an apple and pats while talking to his rider.

“Not a clue Francis. But I’ll figure it out and make sure I won’t have to come back. If I may pick up a few blankets and a traveling cloak on the way back? Have it set aside if I don’t. Emile is in the north and he’s super capable but negotiations are always a bit iffy,” he shrugged carelessly.

“You be careful too alright. By the grace of the stars, we will see you soon,” Virgil’s father insisted.

“Bye mister magic man!” Virgil said cheerfully. The mage, Remy knelt and looked at him. “Hmmm. Getting bigger huh little man? I get a feeling we’ll be seeing more of each other,” he stated, booping Virgil’s nose to which the little one mock complained. Then he got on his horse.

“Bless your days in the kingdom of the sun,” he bid, and rode off towards the woods.

The family headed inside to listen to Virgil’s story about his day with his big brother.

“Remy was right. He ended up being one of my teachers. And he’d been around the block a few times by then. You’d like him,” Virgil chuckled.

Things shifted. Very briefly Roman saw a little bigger Virgil accidentally levitating a pot that was falling from a stove, much to the amazement of his parents and now two siblings. The little sister he’d mentioned before was an adorable toddler in this one.

Then Remy was back, performing a magic aptitude test, looking not surprised in the least. And then Virgil was being picked up by a carriage his mother tying a no doubt handmade scarf around his neck, the family wishing him luck and praying for the stars to guide him.

Roman noticed that the young boy and his teacher both had applied colored shadows under their eyes.

He got in the carriage, and the family and the village disappeared. Instead they were riding down a long stone rode in a bustling city. Though it didn’t seem as big as the capitol Roman remembered. Little 11 or 12 year old Virgil was looking around nervously.

“It’ll be alright squirt,” Remy, who’d apparently been his escort, assured him. “You’ll make tons of friends and have loads to write to your family about. And just think of all the ways you’ll be able to help them out when you get back for the breaks?” Remy pointed out.

Virgil nodded, still withdrawn from nerves. A stark difference to what he was like when in a familiar environment.

Roman looked at the passing buildings trying to find the academy.

“The one you know won’t be built for a while,” Virgil reminded him. Right… Was this even the current capitol?

“This is what you know as Lumen. One of the bigger cities at the time,” Virgil explained as time sped up around them and they found themselves on the edge of the city up a winding path towards a large building, nestled against the forest.

Then Virgil got out and showed to the dormitories and his room.

“There were ten kids in my group, all of varying ages,” Virgil stated as they watched him put his things away, hug his scarf tight and going outside. “And in a strange moment of bravery, I left my room to go and meet them right away,” he chuckled as they reached a playground where a lot of kids were playing. Most were around Virgil’s age, though there were a few late bloomers there too.

Little Virgil looked around and found a kid sitting by himself, reading.

Roman squinted. Was that Gustav?

“Hi,” little Virgil greeted.

The kid looked up, and Roman was a bit surprised to realize it was indeed a younger Gustav.

He also had shading under his eyes. It must have been the style at the time. It was kind of cute that Virgil still did it though.

The young arch mage looked at Virgil's offered hand curiously.

"Um... I'm Virgil."

Gustav gave Virgil a careful smile and accepted his hand. "Gustav," he said. Virgil visibly relaxed at the successful introductions.

"Can I sit with you, please? I promised my mom I'd try and make friends," he said softly.

Gustav giggled. "Well. I didn't, but I guess I don't want you to break a promise to yours," he said, making room on the bench.

"I almost forgot about this part... looking at it from this angle... I guess I get why he didn't like J and Remus all that much," Virgil mused next to Roman as little Virgil sat down and asked about the book Gustav was reading. The conversation seemed to be going well when suddenly...

"CRACK!"

"Woah!"

"Hey!?"

"Hi there," another boy greeted them. Which would've been fine if he hadn't fallen from the sky accompanied by a broken off tree branch. Right on top of Virgil.

Both were now on the ground with the new boy looking down at Virgil.

"You wanna play tag?" he asked.

"Shouldn't you start with: Are you okay? Or: I'm sorry? Or something like that!?" Gustav scolded as he pushed the new boy off from Virgil and helped him get up and dust him off. "I'm fine. Just... caught me of guard," Virgil assured both.

Gustav was not satisfied, though.

"What were you doing up there anyway? Spying on us?!" he accused.

"Napping, until you two woke me up... after that, a bit of spying," the boy admitted.

"That's a weird napping spot," Little Virgil said. Amused.

"Those are the best kinds," the boy argued.

"I like you. I'm Remus," he decided. Holding out his hand. "Virgil, and this is my friend Gustav," Virgil introduced, making Gustav hold his head up a little higher at being called friend.

"What on earth is all this commotion about?" A new boy wondered as he joined the group.

"Mister bright idea climbed a tree. Took a nap, we heard a snap, and then he bruised a knee," Gustav huffed. The group stared. And Roman chuckled. "Was that on purpose?" Virgil asked. Gustav shrugged. "Not at first," he admitted.

"Impressive," Virgil said.

"Well. I am Janus. And you all are...?" The new boy wondered.

"Virgin, Gus and Remus!" Remus screeched.

Gustav made a face. "Gustav and Virgil..." he corrected.

"You talk fancy. Who's your daddy?" Remus wondered. Making Virgil hide his face to stiffen a laugh. Gustav just rolled his eyes. Glancing at Virgil nervously.

Owch. Yeah. Roman wouldn't have liked two random kids stealing the show right when he was making a proper friend. Especially if it ended in him and said friend never getting close.

"My uncle, is high Mage Remy. Eternal lover of the smoldering heart. so my talent was spotted rather quickly. How about you three?" Janus wondered.

"My parents have like, a ton of stores so they paid for an aptitude test so I’d be out of their hair," Remus shrugged. "Jokes on them. I'll be even more of a menace when I know magic,” he added with a grin. Roman noted that both Virgil and Gustav felt a bit self-conscious now. Virgil glanced to Gustav, realized he was not alone in his worry and found courage. "My parents are tailors, and um... I caught a pot without touching when it fell. So when mister Remy... your uncle, came by to check on our village, they told him. And he checked, and now I am here," he said. Making Gustav relax.

"It's just my mother, and I. She helps one of the farmers who has no children to help him to get by. One day, I made a mess of her nice dress, and I wished it was clean, and then it was." He said, feeling more confident now that he and Virgil seemed to have more in common.

"Cool," Remus grinned.

Someone rang a bell. "Oh, class in session! Come on! You gotta sit with us!" Remus insisted dragging Virgil along, followed by a bemused Janus and a dejected Gustav. That must've stung.

"Your friends seem fun," Roman decided. It hadn't seemed like they were deliberately pushing Gustav away. But the young arch mage clearly hadn't felt comfortable around their big personalities.

"Yeah," Virgil smiled.

"Now. Your turn. Show me something about you," Virgil instructed, catching Roman of guard.

"Me?" He asked.

Virgil nodded. "Pick a memory. Focus on it. And share it like how you shared your emotions with me the past two days," he instructed.

Okay. Doable...

Roman took a breath. Focused and...

He was home. Just the sight of it nearly made him tear up. How had Virgil kept it together when showing his own. "I was prepared. You are doing great," Virgil assured him. Roman nodded gratefully and led Vigil to the play room where he and his friends were bowed over books on magic.

"And then he single handedly tamed the beast of Zimmer and sent it back into the woods!" Young Roman told his friends. Much to their amazement.

"I wish I could do something so amazing," Patton sighed.

"But we can. We just have to get into the academy," Logan stated wisely.

"Don't we have to pass an aptitude test for that?" Roman asked, more intrigued than skeptical. "Yes, but I found an old book in your parents' collection, one from before the plague, and in it, it says that magic is a skill you can learn. Like cooking and art. Talent helps, but it is not our only way to pass the test. It even has the instructions. Are you two with me? I am confident I can do it, of course, but I'd rather not be by myself," Logan said formally.

Young Roman grinned and threw an arm around his friend's shoulder. "Of course, big brains. Where do we start?" He stated. "Yay! We're going to change the world together!" Patton cheered, hugging his friends who chuckled.

"Admirable attitude. It is correct, of course. Even if you didn't have talent, which, for the record, you all do, you could learn to connect with your own mana 'the hard way' as they say."

Roman smiled at the reassurance. He had felt a bit insecure about that.

"Well, you didn't meet your friends at school so I’ll go again," Virgil offered showing a classroom with young Virgil flanked by his friends. Gustav a row behind them.

"Why are we seeing this from this perspective? The memory of the ball was like looking through your eyes," Roman suddenly realized.

"Because this talks easier. The details out of sight are filled in through reasoning. I remember Gustav was behind me and I now realize what first meeting Remus and J might've felt like for him. So I, subconsciously make assumptions based on that. We are watching an unreliable narrator. Especially when paying attention to what happens out of sight," he explained as the teacher paced in front of the room.

“So, who can tell me why we need herbs and minerals and animal parts for casting?” the teacher wondered. Looking over the crowd.

“Remus?” he pressed. Remus rolled his eyes. “So we don’t get tired when doing spells,” he said.

Janus snickered at his friend’s deadpan tone. “Care to elaborate Janus?” the teacher challenged.

Janus sat up straighter. “Spells cost energy like climbing a set of stairs would. Using the mana in outside sources when we can, keeps us from draining our own supply,” he stated.

The teacher nodded. "Why can’t we use whatever we want then? Why, by example, do we use Merick’s leaves and not aloe vera in pain relief spells and potions?" The teacher asked.

Virgil perked up a little, looked around to see if anyone else wanted to answer and carefully raised his hand.

"Yes." The teacher acknowledged.

"The mana in the plants is less flexible than the mana within ourselves. Pushing it beyond their natural form would cost us more energy than we would save. Pain is a symptom unrelated to actual damage. Aloe vera needs something to fix. Mericks leaves soothe and relax." Young Virgil stated. Roman cocked his head. Spotting a difference in their education.

"Indeed. You can learn the components needed for each individual spell or you can learn what those components actually want to accomplish with their mana. That will allow you to truly blossom as mages and push the boundaries of magic,” the teacher explained.

Gustav leaned over his desk and tapped Virgil on the shoulder. “Gotta be you, I’m starting to think you can look at a brand new plant and immediately tell what it’d be good for,” he whispered. So some time had passed. And Virgil had made an impression it seemed.

“Is that why you’re being such a suck up?” Remus teased. Gustav turned red and fell back into his chair. “Whatever, freak,” he huffed. Virgil was clearly uncomfortable caught in the middle of the argument.

“That’s enough of that,” Virgil decided.

Roman agreed and focused on a memory of his own to relive.

His own experience with his chosen field of study.

They stood in a different classroom. In a different building. Students were filing out and joking about. Logan and Patton hesitated by the door as a young Roman approached the teacher.

“Um… Sir?” he asked.

“What is it?” the teacher said, the enthusiasm for teaching Virgil’s teacher had nowhere to be found.

“Um… Well the dean said that we should talk to the teacher specializing in our chosen discipline about… Well specializing and I…”

The teacher perked up. “You want to specialize in herbology?” he asked. Surprised, skeptical, hopeful.

“Y-yes. I mean. Plants and their uses always interested me. And well… Being able to recognize them on sight seems like an important skill. So…” he explained awkwardly.

Now the teacher lit up. “Then I will do my best to teach you all I know,” he promised.

Roman turned to Virgil. “Herbology wasn’t very popular the past fifty years,” he shrugged.

“Well, they never taught you the cool parts so I’m not surprised,” Virgil shrugged.

The memory shifted to his teacher’s private office late in the evening. Young Roman was bowed over a few books, several pots of herbs set up before him.

“It is said, that in the time before the dark plague, there were herbologists who were so in tune with the mana of living beings, that they could sense the ingredients of anything they ate, even down to the exact amount of salt crystals.”

Virgil chuckled. “Slight exaggeration,” he assured him.

Roman wanted to ask him to elaborate, but he figured questions could wait for the road. Virgil might appreciate a distraction while they traveled.

“Sadly, the methods with which they achieved this ability have gotten lost after the plague,” teacher sighed wistfully.

“Sir… I don’t understand these instructions,” young Roman told his teacher.

“This healing spell calls for Mint root, but that feels wrong? In this one,” he pointed to another page, “the revitalization spell, mintroot is combined with Lilly pollen. And it just feels like the Lilly pollen would be far more effective for the healing spell?” young Roman pointed out.

Virgil looked to Roman with a bright, proud smile. “Good eye,” he praised.

Roman’s teacher looked at Roman’s notes and hummed. “I understand your concerns. But Lilly pollen is too potent to use on its own and any deterrent would render the benefit entirely useless. It is a level three after all. We can’t use catalysts in reckless abandon, that is what caused the plague,” he explained gravely. “But good eye Roman. You clearly have talent,” he praised. Young Roman smiled but didn’t look too convinced.

“Do my eyes spy a spark of rebellion?” Virgil gasped.

“I may have started using Lilly Pollen where I felt it was appropriate whenever I wasn’t supervised… I’d say don’t tell Logan but I think he’s thrown all caution to the wind since you made him great wizard mage,” Roman admitted.

“Following your own gut over a teacher’s instruction isn’t such a trivial matter though. That took courage,” Virgil complemented before taking charge of the memories again.

Leaving Roman no chance to react.

Virgil showed a few snippets of memories of him and his friends growing up at the academy. Laughing at Remus’ antics, debating ethics and technicalities with Janus. Going home and showing all that he had learned to his family and using it to help around the village.

And then they were inside a room with a familiar layout. It was round. The floor and ceiling decorated with mosaic representing the night sky, the magically glowing stars the only light source.

Virgil was sat in the middle of the room. Meditating.

Roman could hear the instructions echo in Virgil’s mind, the only sound in this silent room other than Virgil’s breathing.

“Focus on the flow of magic within you. Until it is all that is left. Let it show you your power. Do not waver. Do not turn away. Welcome it. It is part of you. Yet it also is a life all its own. Let it show you, who you are meant to be.”

Roman felt something stir inside him at those words. “That’s a better pep talk than I got,” he whispered to Virgil.

“Do I want to know?” Virgil wondered.

“Try not to die,” Roman surmised.

“… Roman, I never asked. How many Great mages has the academy produced since the plague?” Virgil asked.

“Um… Us?” Roman admitted.

“So… You outrank the council?” Virgil concluded. “Uh… I never thought about it like that… I guess?” Roman mused.

Virgil frowned but focused back on the memory. Also choosing to keep questions for the road.

The stars seemed to go out, and a purple glow appeared inside Virgil right at his heart.

Not a glow… A flame.

Virgil opened his eyes and stood up in the void. Looking for a light, an exit. Something.

He reached for his chest and touched the flame, held it in his hand, and set it free.

The magic spread into the room, creating new stars. Constellations Roman didn’t recognize, and was fairly certain Virgil didn’t know either. So it wasn’t just that he didn’t pay enough attention in astronomy class.

Young Virgil stared on in awe and stepped back in surprise as his magic fire returned to him and burst into an inferno, revealing a phoenix made of purple flames.

Virgil hesitated and bowed. The Phoenix let out a majestic cry and flew straight through Virgil, making his robes flare up and his hair blow back. It was much shorter at this time in his life, but long enough to be affected. Virgil looked behind him and he was back in the meditation room, the door glowing with his magic and opening.

His classmates streamed in.

“That was wicked cool!” Remus exclaimed as he threw an arm over Virgil’s shoulder.

“Uh… What was?” Virgil asked.

“Let’s just say for a moment I thought there’d be a phoenix permanently burned into the doors to the ascension chamber,” Janus smirked.

“Indeed. Congratulations. Virgilious, fate spinner, Mage of the dark phoenix,” their teacher allowed.

Roman looked at Virgil.

“My first nickname. Based on my ability to weave any sort of spell into fabric. Cleaning was my first one but I perfected it to a point where I could integrate three different spells into one fabric. After building a proper reputation as a high mage I got the name Night Flame,” Virgil explained.

Roman looked to the crowd and spotted Gustav standing by the edge. Observing with a closed expression.

Though past Virgil wasn’t looking directly at him so that wasn’t necessarily how he looked at the time.

Past Virgil was too busy feeling bashful about the attention and the title.

Roman felt a little bad for the young Arch mage. If things had gone just a little differently, he would’ve been part of the past few memories rather than a figure in the background.

“Gustav. I believe you were next?” The teacher stated. Now Virgil’s attention did go to him. Gustav hid some kind of expression and nodded formally.

“Watch him get a gnome,” someone whispered in the group, making a few others laugh and Gustav flush.

“What would be wrong with that? Gnomes are mischievous but creative and in tune with nature. There is no such thing as a bad guide. Only shortsighted, immature mages who probably shouldn’t be getting theirs yet,” Virgil scolded his classmates who looked sheepish at being called out like that.

“It’s alright Virgil,” Gustav said, finding his confidence. “Who knows? Maybe I will get a less popular guide. I’m not stupid, I know that is more in line with my standing,” he noted, strolling to the center of the room. “Then again,” he stated as he turned around. “Maybe I’ll be the dragon who will unite the lands under one crown. And you’ll all wish you’d tried a little harder to get my favor,” he smirked as he dropped himself into a cross legged position. “Well, most of you,” he finished.

The teacher guided the group out of the room. Virgil looked back briefly and found that Gustav had dropped the bravado and looked nervous. And then the door closed.

“We don’t need to see every ceremony. There was no dragon that year in any case. But I had learned that if I was going to ever become a high mage, I’d have to come to terms with the fact that I’d have to learn to fly. Remus tried pretty much the day after the ceremony to ascend. And Janus had started daily meditations in preparation for a serious attempt a month or two later.

I was nowhere near mentally ready to even think of that. So… I practiced.”

Roman looked up and they found themselves in a small clearing in a forest. Virgil was pacing the forest floor.

“A bird. Of course I had to be a freaking bird… That’s fine though. I can prepare. This time tomorrow I’m not going to be held back by something as silly as a fear of heights.”

Past Virgil stood still in the middle of the meadow and retrieved a feather from his satchel.

And then his form shrunk and changed. And before them stood a falcon, moving his body experimentally.

“Changing shape gets much easier once you ascend. As you might have noticed. When ascending you essentially abandon a physical form, and become magic yourself. And magic, can take any shape it needs to with ease. Before that… It feels a bit uncomfortable to shape your body in a form that is not its own,” Virgil explained.

“So, changing your looks wouldn’t be as uncomfortable as becoming an animal,” Roman concluded.

“Yeah. Depending on how much you change, but I suppose even changing yourself to an entirely different body type is more doable than becoming a different species,” Virgil agreed as his past self-made a few clumsy attempts to get up on a fallen tree to have a launch platform.

“What you see next stays between us alright?” Virgil asked.

Roman nodded. “I wasn’t going to share a second of this with anyone anyway,” Roman promised.

Virgil smiled at him and then focused on the memory again where the falcon took off. And fell out of the sky almost immediately. Roman blinked and the falcon was back on the tree.

Took of once more, and fell again.

A few more minutes went by. Though Roman never saw the impact. Just the moment that Virgil lost the fight with gravity and then he started over again.

“You fell a lot,” Roman observed.

“I was much too stubborn. Getting tired made it harder,” Virgil huffed.

The memory showed an exhausted falcon, falling asleep on the forest floor… That didn’t seem safe.

Indeed. The sky grew dark and something emerged from the bushes. A fox.

Luckily Virgil woke up just in time to doge it’s attack. He cawed in warning but the fox must’ve been very hungry or in need for some food for their cubs perhaps, because it tried to attack again. Virgil, rather than turning human, fueled by adrenaline, launched himself skyward, and this time, managed to remain there. Flying up above the treetops, elated at his success, and from the looks of it he soon found himself at home among the winds.

He flew past the forest edge and made his way into a familiar village. He returned to his human form on the pathway and was immediately greeted by his family who’d been worried since he hadn’t come home before sundown as he usually did. His father had been about to go look for him.

It was a sweet display.

Then the memory shifted to inside the home. The family was gathered and an older man and two young adults were measuring them. Much to the delight of Virgil’s little sister.

“We did well for ourselves after I figured out the self-cleaning fabric thing. So, when the time came for the introduction ball of the new great mages of that year, we decided to splurge on some new clothes. We didn’t usually do anything fancy so I had a tailor from the city come to make us all something fitting for the occasion.

And, I met the guy who taught me to… appreciate dressing up,” Virgil admitted. Fondly looking at the young man who was clearly trying not to be weird while taking a great mage’s measurements.

“What happened to the lyre player?” Roman asked curiously. Recalling what Virgil said about the first man he kissed while they were sitting at the loom.

“Oh, that was years before this. I was… Sixteen. He was part of a traveling band, but they ran into some bad luck and needed a lot of repairs, so they stayed the summer and did odd jobs to pay for their repairs and necessities and such. We… hit it off. But at the end I had duties in the city and he went back to the road,” Virgil recalled.

“How old are you at this point?” Roman wondered. Virgil had been around Roman’s age when he stopped aging. And he was a great mage in this one, so this couldn’t be too long before that.

Virgil hummed.

“Well, gosh, I haven’t thought about that for a while… But I was 18 when I became a wizard… 19 when I became a great wizard. And… Yeah about 25 when I became a mage.” Roman nodded. That wasn’t an unusual timeline.

“I think… I think I’m 27, almost 28 at this point,” he decided.

Roman observed past Virgil exchange a smile and a joke with the apprentice, making him laugh and relax. He looked cute.

They watched just a little longer. Seeing the young man start to gush animatedly about his passions and Virgil starting to get intrigued.

Then Virgil showed him his next memory.

They were in a large room, lit up with various types of magic lighting. Making for a festive atmosphere. There was music playing and there were people dancing in gorgeous suits and gowns in styles entirely unfamiliar to Roman.

So far he’d seen Virgil and the others wear robes and the casual fashion of commoners that didn’t change as much. He almost wished Virgil had shown him a local festival so he could’ve seen what they’d worn for such an occasion.

He spotted Virgil and his family. The ladies looking lovely in purple gowns with feather’s in their braids. His mother’s hair in an updo and his sisters and another woman Roman didn’t recognize in a lovely half up half down. Their gowns had high collars, tiny glass beads sewn in into the fabric to make them shimmer like the night sky. Their sleeves long and widening from the elbows down. Their skirts flowing delicately with every move. Virgil, his brother and father were all wearing a similar costume consisting of a dark purple shirt with black pants and ties. His father and brother wearing a decorative feather shoulder piece on opposite shoulders while Virgil wore one on both. All the men had the shadows under their eyes, most men at the party did. It really was a fashion trend.

They looked great, and excited to be there.

They greeted a few people at the door. Virgil was predictably dismissive of his teacher’s praises and his family’s pride. He introduced his brother Michael, his sister in law Penelope and his little sister Mariane alongside his parents, Francis and Evelyn. Once he felt there’d been enough introductions he took his sister to the dancefloor she’d been eyeing since the moment they got in.

“Don’t worry,” he assured her when he saw her look at the crowd. “It’s all in the lead. So I’ll be the one looking bad if something goes wrong.” His sister rolled her eyes and stepped on his foot on purpose, much to his amusement.

Then he took her in a spin around the room. Mariane looked like she was having the time of her life. Dressed up and dancing at a ball.

And then a handsome young man tapped Virgil on the shoulder, interrupting their dance.

The young man was a bit flushed as he took in Mariane before turning to Virgil.

“My apologies, mister Virgil. Would, either of you,” he glanced hopefully to Mariane, “Mind if I cut in?” he asked.

Virgil smirked and looked at his sister who was clearly taken aback by this turn of events.

“Mariane, this is one of Janus’ cousins, Vincent. Vincent, this is my beloved little sister Mariane. Do you mind keeping Vincent company while I look for his cousin and Remus?” Virgil asked.

Mariane shook her head. “Not at all,” she breathed. And so Virgil handed her over with care and left the floor to look for his friends.

He found them soon. Both dressed even more lavishly than Virgil was. Remus a collage of styles and suits that were all demanding attention. Janus seemed to have pieces of scaled leather incorporated in his suit. Probably showcasing their guide.

Roman noticed Gustav talking to a few noble looking men with a woman at his arm that must’ve been his mother. His suit was modest if not for the ornate pieces of jewelry added to it.

Remus and Janus praised Virgil for his suit and they talked about old times and their plans for the future. Virgil laughed with them but kept glancing at the dancefloor.

Suddenly something startled him and without a word he made his way back towards the center where Roman also spotted someone trying to cut between Vincent and Mariane. Something neither seemed interested in.

“Excuse me,” Virgil announced putting himself between the pair and the third wheel.

“… Great mage Virgil. Good evening. I merely wanted to honor your sister with a dance,” the man assured Virgil.

“The honor would be yours entirely, if she was interested, which she isn’t. Go find someone who is Philipe,” he warned.

“Ah, so you know who I am… Wouldn’t you agree that it would be in your family’s best interest to…”

“I would agree to no such thing,” Virgil interjected. And Roman could feel power build even in this memory. Clearly mister Philipe hadn’t expected that reaction.

“In fact, I think you’ll find it would be in you and your family’s best interest not to anger me any further. I would be very careful of angering the Dark Phoenix. For they are loyal and reliable and inspire such traits in those they meet. I have friends Philipe, and those friends might have more influence than you’d like,” Virgil warned.

“Virgil… You are…” Mariane said softly behind him.

“Is that a threat mage?” Philipe challenged.

“It is a promise that I am not afraid to put you in your place in front of this whole party,” Virgil growled. And around him people gathered, looking at Philipe like his judgement had already been passed. And it wasn’t favorable. Vincent had escorted Mariane to her parents and they all looked on while Virgil laid down the law.

Philipe seemed nervous now, looking around the room and seeing no support. He was about to say something else but then backed away in fear. Virgil’s building power was more obvious now, his clothes and hair flaring and moments later, it erupted with a protective fury from his being.

For a moment Virgil was completely gone. Only a shapeless mass of purple flames in his space.

“Virgil!” his family called, and as if in answer to his name, the flames took the shape of a bird, and then a man, and then Virgil reemerged from the flames. Reborn as a high mage.