#in close second is the fourth branch though

[avalonbards]

tumblr user avalonbards mabi, named after the mabinogion, tell us what your favorite branch is

gjxjgxkgx so very formal!

but aaahh my favorite branch of the mabinogion? man that’s like trying to make me pick a favorite arthurian legend! haha but ah no in all seriousness i do have one in particular i like the best.

branch 2: the children of llyr.

it’s got this mix of familial love, romantic love that turns to cruelty, loyalty, grief, and horror that i genuinely enjoy. manawyddan (as the version i read spells his name) is great and branwen…

oh branwen you poor sweet girl you deserved so much better.

there’s a reason the story i write with taliesin has him mourn the siblings so much, and branwen most of all.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the venomous nip

the wistful wyvern, chapter seven

a/n: i have no clue how this is my first time playing with something reminiscent of the sex pollen trope. anyways. bon appétit, bitch! ৎ୭

summary: “snow, they, uh, their bite, it–… well, to say it bluntly, it makes you go blind with paralysing lust.” 

warnings: knight!bucky barnes x knight!reader, smut, fantasy AU (monsters, but not much magic), original fantasy world, ex-friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, former fuckboy!bucky, tattooed!bucky, forced proximity, allusion to oral, violence, injuries, kissing, kinda sex pollen (except it’s not pollen, it’s a venomous bite), crying, fingering (both vaginal and anal), squirting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, size kink, manhandling, penetrative sex, protected sex (a fantasy birth control tea commonly used by men), double penetration, creampie, references to knotting

word count: 3427

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After making it back to Erasild and The Sapphire Chateau in one piece, the rare opportunity of staying in a soft bed became even more tempting after the injuries especially your partner had received after the ball. Though you only let it be one night before hopping on the back of Echo and riding off to The Asadånie Mountains. One night spent soaking in the tub together till all of the iridescent bubbles on the surface had popped, licking one another’s wounds till you both writhed beneath the pecks, as well as sleeping in each other’s embrace till the sun streamed in through the windows and shined in your eyes till they squinted open. 

The journey back towards the mountainscape stretched on for long enough that Bucky’s shoulder got the chance to heal enough to let him feel less stir-crazy. 

Curtained beneath the wispy branches of a majestic weeping willow, you sat on your bedroll, unfurled and pushed together with Bucky’s, and peeled off the last of your armour.

“This place is safe and you know it,” your gaze followed Bucky as his visage slowly came back into view, curving around the tree for the fourth time on his methodical check of the perimeter of your campground for the night, “you don’t need to stay up on watch.”

“I’m not gonna stay up on watch,” he breathed out a smile, though didn’t offer you a glance yet, “I’m just being thorough.” 

Only a few seconds passed before you playfully poked, “…are you almost done?” as the thought of falling asleep in his arms was too tempting to keep your mouth shut. But when only the soft rumble of a chuckle sounded from Bucky and he threw you a fleeting look, you grinned once more, “how about now? Are you done now?” 

With a soft shake of his head, he finally neared you. 

“Would you quit rushing me?” he smiled and swiftly kneeled down to tickle your sides. 

“No! No!” you giggled, wiggling away from his determined torture, “stop, please! I surrender!” 

His laughter kept billowing out long after he stopped, dipping down to steal a quick kiss from you before he shed his armour and dumped it down atop of where yours was piled up. 

“Goodnight,” he chuckled in your ear when he settled behind you and drew your frame close to his. 

As you curved back into him, you found his hand as it swept over your waist and weaved your fingers in with his, “goodnight,” you briefly raised it up to your lips and pressed a peck to the inked back of his palm, “I love you.” 

You weren’t sure just how many hours you managed to sleep, but at one point during the night, you felt something on your leg. 

Slowly, a tickling sensation crawled up your calf. At first, you thought nothing of it, assuming it was just Bucky beside you, but then the slithering began at your neck as well, sneaking down the collar of your tunic and when a sharp sting pierced your shoulder, your eyes shot open. 

The shriek that rumbled out of you roused the warden, whose limbs were still entangled with your own. As you bolted up to a sitting position, you discovered the three large, dark purple worms that were crawling over your slumbering form. 

Swiftly, you both reached for your weapons and dealt with the creatures quickly. They weren’t in any way difficult to slay, but still very much not the wake-up call either of you desired. 

“Are you alright?” Bucky asked as your blade fell back down into the grass. 

The ground beneath you suddenly started to spin a bit, but you still offered him a reassuring nod, “mhm,” and one of your palms floated out to his mass for support, “I’m–,” a quiet groan broke up your words, “I’m okay, I–…” 

“Snow?” as his hands grasped your shoulders, his voice washed over you as if you were underwater. 

“I–…” you glanced down at your hands to discover how violently they were suddenly shaking, “I–…” 

Even though you were still seated on your bedroll, the world still fell out from under you. 

Catching you in his arms, the alarm in the soldier’s tone shined through your fog, “hey, Y/n,” he plucked up your face, “look at me,” and his eyes fleetingly captured your teary ones before they washed over the rest of your features. He studied every inch of you, from the sweat that glistened on your brow, to the way your bottom lip trembled. But when he pulled back your neckline and glanced down on your shoulder, a low curse escaped him, “fuck… okay, it’s okay, you got bit just a little, but it doesn’t look too bad.”

With uncontrollable tears streaming down your face, you blubbered, “I-I feel kinda weird…” as you felt your body begin to clench up and an aching throb settled over you, “actually, i-it–, fuck… Buck,” your fingers weakly found his chest and clawed against it, “it h-hurts.”

Shifting slightly, Bucky rolled over one of the carcasses on the ground with the end of his weapon. His features then paled as recognition washed over him, “oh, shit…” 

“What?” you breathed thinly. 

“Uh…” his stare stayed on the creature a moment longer in horror before he told you, “it’s a futuō worm.”

“A futu-what?” you tried to push yourself back up, but your limbs gave up in an instant. 

Catching you once more, he huffed, “alright, it’s gonna be okay, snow.” 

“B-Bucky, what’s going on?” your pulse thumped in your ears like a drum, “what are those things?”

A long exhale flowed from his lips before he explained, “they are supposedly created by pixies as some twisted joke,” his arms held you tight as you trembled against him, “or at least that’s how the fables go…” dipping his head, he tried to catch your hazy gaze, “snow, they, uh, their bite, it–… well, to say it bluntly, it makes you go blind with paralysing lust.” 

Your eyes widened, “what?” as you felt the effects begin to grow.

“Allegedly, it varies in what symptoms you experience,” he held your head steady as he checked your dilated pupils, watching how they nearly eclipsed all of the colour in your eyes, “even differs for everyone how long it lasts till the venom is out of their system,” he uttered, “I've heard some accounts of it taking a few days.”

“Days?” you sobbed, “I can’t feel like this for days!” 

The pain was numbing, yet you equally felt as if a feather might knock you over. 

“…snow?” he carefully spoke as he then tilted his head to catch your eye, “do you trust me?”

“Always,” you breathed, as if it was a given. 

“I don’t know if this will work, but, fuck, I can’t believe I'm leaning into fucking superstition,” he mumbled and his whole face momentarily crumbled up before unfurling with a sigh, “I’m gonna try and help you, okay?” 

“O-okay,” you trembled, though still had no clue what he was on about. 

The next thing you knew, Bucky had leaned in a pressed his lips to yours. At first, tinges of confusion and shock washed over you before a thimble of relief trickled throughout your veins and a moan seeped from your lungs and vibrated against his lips. 

Carefully, he scooped you into his lap, cradling you close so that both of your legs hung over the right side of his hip. Nimble fingers found the buttons of your trousers and undid them in the blink of an eye. Gently, he burrowed a hand down your pants and brushed his touch through your already soaked folds.

“Oh g-gods!” you whimpered and your lips fell from his at not only the discovery of how immensely sensitive you were, but also just how wet you’d become in only the few short moments since you’d been bitten. It didn’t just cause a sinful symphony to sloppily slosh at every ghostly graze he offered you, but you could feel it leaking down your thighs. 

“Fuck,” Bucky hissed, the sounds of your arousal soaking straight into his bones, “is that okay? Are you alright?” he gently found your already swollen clit and began to caress it, but only for a moment as his fingers froze when you didn’t soothe his worry and grant him an answer, simply continued to incoherently moan instead, “Y/n,” his hand slipped out from between your thighs and soared up to tilt your face for his gaze to catch yours, “am I hurting you?”

“Don’t stop!” the pain began to crawl back as his touch retreated, “p-please!” 

Blinking down at you with a line clear between his furrowed brows, he slid his hand back down to your core, “okay,” he uttered, worry tainting his features, “alright.” 

“Thank you–,” you exhaled, though gasped as soon as his digits returned to your puffy pearl, “fuck!” your eyes rolled in your skull. 

“Is it helping?”

“Mhm,” you dizzily nodded, “I can’t believe this of all things is reliving the pain.” 

You couldn’t even imagine how you would have managed if you’d been on your own. You felt like you could barely raise your pinkie, so how would you have been able to touch yourself? 

After his fingertips circled your weeping entrance, two of his digits then effortlessly slipped in and you mewled, your face swiftly smooshing against his chest. As your drool stained his tunic, you felt Bucky shift slightly as he dropped back and let his spine rest against the thick tree trunk just behind him. 

His pinkie and forefinger flexed against either side of your centre as the ones in between lavishly pumped in and out of you, caressing your overly sensitive walls. 

Beneath you, the sensation of his growing erection poked you fiercely, the thought of feeling it split you apart haunted your poisoned state. 

Reassuring whispers flowed from your beloved’s lips and seeped into your soul as he carried you over the threshold, rocking his fingers within you till a gentle drizzle of squirt seeped out, small enough for your foggy senses to miss entirely. 

Pressing his lips to your forehead in a soft and slow peck, he then slid his fingers back out of your pants. 

“More,” you murmured as your weak attempt at fumbling for his covered cock failed, “B-Bucky, I need more,” but when he stuffed his hand back down your trousers, a desperate protest then left your lips, “no, could you please fuck me? I just–… please?” you trembled, your cheek pressed against his pec as you blinked up at him with teary eyes, “I–… I need to feel your dick inside of me.”

As his gaze searched yours, the sorrow didn’t lift from his features as he empathetically cursed, “oh, fuck, snow…” 

“Please,” you wept. 

Your crying almost worsened when he fulfilled your wish, swiftly yanking your trousers down before freeing his cock from his own pants. He then shifted you effortlessly in his hold, still cradling you in the same tender manner as he slowly eased you down on his length. 

“Shit,” he moaned almost as loud as you when he slowly sank you down on his dick. The clasp he had behind your bent knees shifted slightly as his palm slid up your thigh to grasp your ass and move your slack frame for you, “oh–, is that alright? Does that feel better?”

“Y-yeah,” your head rested against his chest as your eyes fluttered up at him, “it feels like–, oh!” a shrill cry escaped you as he gently began to find a pattern, lifting you up, nearly entirely off his cock, till he slowly plunged you back down, “it feels like you’re making love to every molecule in my body,” you slurred as you struggled to return his unwavering stare, “I can feel you everywhere.” 

When you finally felt him begin to relax a bit beneath you, his rhythm roughened as he rocked you in his embrace like a ragdoll. Moans flowed out of you like a broken dam as each time he dropped your form, every little detail of his fat girth euphorically dragged against your abnormally sensitive walls. 

“I’ve got you,” he curled closer as he fucked you, his bearded cheek pressing against the crown of your head, “I’ve got you, baby,” webs of your cream clung to your skin and kept your cores connected even as he raised you off his cock, “it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay, I promise.”

When you tumbled over the edge again, trembling in his hold, the squirt that then gushed out didn’t go unnoticed by you as the previous display had. 

“Oh, there you go, snow,” he groaned in your ear, “fuck…”

Quivering and twitching in his embrace, your pussy had clenched down around Bucky’s girth so hard that it was forced out as you drenched his lap. 

His chest rose and fell rapidly beneath your head as a low growl rumbled deep within him. His fingers dented your tender flesh as a breathless question fell from his lips, “you want more?” precum leaked from his bulbous tip and stained your messy cunt as the length throbbed against your puffy petals. 

“Y-yes,” you panted, the heated fortitude that finally shined through in his tone conjured a smile to tug at your lips. Gently, he laid you down on the bedrolls, your position didn’t change that drastically from when you were in his arms as you laid there on your side with your knee curled up to your chest. Leaning back a bit, Bucky cast his glance down to the mess between your thighs as his grasp enclosed around himself and his other palm came down to spread you apart for him. After he’d given your swollen clit a few nudges with his tip and successfully caused your frame to jolt at every one of them, he then buried himself back into you and pushed the last bit of oxygen out of your lungs as he swiftly bottomed out and his tip kissed the deepest parts of you, “oh fuck–”

Your boneless body rippled at every one of his silky thrusts, “you’re doing so good, baby,” his gaze lingered on the sloppy strings of slick that connected your frames, “so fucking good,” before his eyes flickered back up to find your blissed-out features. 

Leaning down over you, he kept up a lavish pace, snapping his hips against yours, as he rested his forearms on either side of your head. Hovering above you, he shifted his weight and his fingers sweetly found your heated cheeks to wipe the drool and tears away, even though they’d be stained again in a second. 

As his thumb lingered over your jaw, he then bent further down to seal his lips against yours, swallowing your moans that gushed out to the rhythm of his efforts. 

After the tender peck had faded and he’d curved back up, your fingers curled up to your lips and instinctively, like scratching an itch, your dove two of your digits into your mouth and sucked on them, a hum swiftly vibrated around them as you filled another one of your holes up. 

Reaching down, Bucky dreamily traced your lips locked around your own fingers, staring intently as the vision caused him to fuck you even harder. Slyly, he sneaked one of his digits in to join your own, teasingly pumping it in and out a few times, groaning sinfully as the softness of your tongue caressed him. 

A string of spit followed his finger as he pulled it out of your mouth and let it wander back down south. Raking over your curves, he bunched up your tunic enough for your boobs to spill out and let him pinch your pebbly nipples without the barrier. 

Soon his touch scooped down to your ass as it rippled against every toe-curling thrust of his hips. Palming it roughly, his grasp reached far enough to graze against your other hole and the whine you let out at the exploratory caress caused him to delve even further. Teasingly, he rubbed your little rosebud, your excessive slickness that had dripped to it made his lavish caress effortless. 

“You like that?” he noticed how your brows knit together in ecstasy “is it making you feel better?”

When your head bobbled in a wobbly nod, he didn’t play with you for much longer before slowly working a finger inside. 

Your heavy lids struggled to let you hold his gaze and enjoy his silhouette above you as he filled up the last of your holes.

“Fucking hell, you’re tight back here…” your muffled moan seeped out of you as his digit plugged up your ass, “you want more, huh?” he tilted his chin as he asked you, and when you hazily offered him a nod, “yeah? Feeling too empty, huh, snow?” he slid another finger inside, “how’s that? Is that good?” he slowly worked up the pace of his digits to match the one set by his hips as he fucked your poor pussy, “was that what you needed? Just for you to be all stuffed to the fucking brim?” he panted and let his gaze drop back down, “gods… you gotta let me put my cock in here one day…” he tried to press a third finger inside, though didn’t succeed, “please…”

Even though you wished for nothing but to answer him, to affirm just how much you dreamed of that as well, your stomach started to twist and knot once more as another orgasm rolled over you and rocked your body like nothing ever had before. It was almost too much to take as your pussy gushed fiercely around his cock. 

However, when Bucky no longer could hold back and began to pump you full of his cum, the result it had on you shocked you to your very core. It was as if the whole world finally snapped back into focus and the sweetest relief washed over you as the worst of the ache faded away.  

Melting down atop of you, his cock still throbbed in your sensitive cunt as he caught his breath. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, peeling his cheek off of the swell of your tit to catch sight of your exhausted expression, eyes still shut tightly. 

“Mhm…” you hummed and a faint smile twitched at your lip as you noted how you felt. Though still woozy, you felt a lot better as you attempted your range of motion and finally managed to curl an arm up around his broad shoulder. 

“Do you feel a bit better? 

“Yeah, I do,” you blinked your eyes back open and gazed up at the wispy branches of the willow tree and the stars twinkling in the night sky above, “fuck… that was insane…” you breathed before you glanced down to meet his stare and a thought fluttered in your mind as the fog began to clear, “hey, Buck?”

“Yeah?” his thumbs slowly swept across your ribs as he held you. 

“What would have happened if you’d gotten bit?”

“Well,” he let out a low exhale, “it’d probably be pretty similar to what you just went through,” his head briefly dipped as he pressed a peck between your boobs, “except, I’m pretty sure my cock would also swell up a lot,” you half hoped he didn’t notice how your pussy squeezed his dick as he continued to talk, “I met a guy once who got bit and he said that it was like there formed this knot at the base, and all he could think about was slamming it inside someone and emptying himself till it went away…”   

Though terror nearly froze you again right before you entered the great Farrowghol lair, a tender kiss from Bucky helped thaw it enough for your feet to begin to shift as he tugged your hand, safe in his, and took you with him inside. 

The dragon somehow already recognised the scent of its kin long before the warden by your side had set down the chest and cracked it open. 

With the eggs now safely returned, the winged behemoth vowed to seize any further attack, and to never strike again on Eflorrian soil unless provoked.

And as the pair of you rode away, your adventure finally changing its course back towards the familiar eastern coastline, a vengeful shadow soared over your heads and disappeared down south, past all of the mountain peaks. 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[suzuran777]

Upcoming BL game releases (2025 edition)

I was originally going to post this a bit earlier in January, but maybe it's good I had to postpone it because we got a few new announcements recently from some well-known BL game developers (Parade and Tennenouji). The release date of Ooe part 2 was also revealed and the game is scheduled to be released at the end of next month, so I think there are quite some new things to look forward to this year.

I also decided to include some more doujin game titles this time, as well as some games which are still in development, but the status is currently unknown. Sadly BL game magazine Cool-B has ended its publication, so I hope that the game developers will continue updating their own social media pages and blogs instead.

Now available ↓

Re;quartz Reido Nintendo Switch version (Re;quartz零度) Publisher: B-cluster Release date: February 27, 2025 (available now!)

Fully voiced Switch port of Re;quartz Reido, which was originally released in 2020. This plot focuses on a time loop murder mystery story, in which an organization tries to hunt down people with supernatural powers. The original game was already all-ages, so unlike most BL game Switch ports I don't think any of the content was cut. The Switch version also updated the background art and added some new after-scenarios that are not in the original game. Sadly the English localization of the PC version was cancelled, so you will not be able to play any version of this in English.

Friendly Lab Unlock () ; English version Publisher: Tennenouji Release date: March 14, 2025 (available now!)

I was surprised to suddenly see this, but the English version of Friendly Lab which was announced in May 2023 was released today! You play the role of a researcher who’s conducting a gentle experiment on two test subjects, who both experience memory loss. It's available on DLsite, which is also the company that localized the game. I hope that the English version of Tennenouji's other game, Luckydog1, will also be released at some point, though that one's being localized by MangaGamer.

2025 release date ↓

Ooe part 2 (大穢後編) Publisher: Adelta Release date: April 19, 2025

Second half of the 18+ BL game Ooe which was released in October 2024. Closed circle murder mystery story which takes place during Japan’s post-war era (1955). The new blog post mentions that if you already purchased part 1, you can download the complete edition for free once part 2 releases, which includes all routes. It's also already confirmed that this game will be translated, though there is currently no information who's in charge of the localization.

Tokyo Gentou/ Tokyo Phantasmagoria (東京幻燈) Publisher: Procyon (new BL branch of Orbit/CORE) Release date: 2025

The story takes place in a future in which humans live together with different lifeforms, who started appearing after a certain incident in 1996. The artist is Carnelian who's known for other BLVN titles such as Messiah and Fanatica. It has been 17 years since they last worked on a BLVN project (Messiah's fandisc) so I am really happy to see them working on a new project! The game's age rating is also 18+.

Ani Asobi (兄遊び) Publisher: Tennenouji Release date: 2025

Tennenouji's new 18+ BL project which was first announced in the final issue of Cool-B which was released in January. This game focuses on two main characters, a younger brother (whose face is covered in the official art for some reason), and an older brother. In the Cool-B interview Yura mentions that this game won't have any comedic scenes, so it looks like the plot will be quite serious. The theme of the game focuses on ''humillation''.

lesson Publisher: Parade Release date: July 25th, 2025

Parade also announced their new project earlier this year, which is their fourth game "lesson". They also already launched the official website on Valentine's Day. The story focuses on protagonist Kento, who's struggling to stay out of trouble after growing up in a harsh environment. One day he gets caught in a motorcycle accident and he wakes up in the hospital, where he meets a man called Takafumi. The website mentions is that most of the 18+ scenes are consensual, but the story itself does include heavy themes. It looks like it's going to have quite some branching routes/endings too.

Seraphim Spiral -Shounen no Ori- Re-master Publisher: B Works Release date: 2025

Fully voiced remaster of Seraphim Spiral, an all-ages BL game which was originally released in 2001. Story focuses on protagonist Kugami Akito, a transfer student who had to drop out of his previous school after a certain incident. I've played a lot of older BL visual novels but I haven't actually played this one, so maybe I'll get a chance to play it now!

Nie no Machi Iromusubi Switch/Steam version (贄の町-いろむすび-) Developer: Zombilica Release date: May 22, 2025

This is the fandisc of the game Nie no Machi, which was ported to the Nintendo Switch and Steam last year. The original game is 18+, but the console versions are usually all-ages or 17+, so if you want the full experience the PC version might be better. Heads up that the Steam version is the same as the Switch version, so that version won't include the 18+ scenes either. I do hope the PC version of the first game and fandisc will get localized some day, as right now only the ''sfw'' version is translated.

Kawatare no Youyuu (彼誰の溶融) Developer: Tedopoyo Release date: 2025

BL game by doujin game creator Tedopoyo, who has released two other BL projects in the past (Boku no Saiai no and Shuuen Ouse). Focuses on protagonist Atori who's described to have violent tendencies. We don't know a lot about the game yet, but you can follow the developer for any updates.

Collision x Collision Developer: Gintou Release date: 2025

18+ visual novel by doujin group Gintou. They've released a lot of all-ages BL titles in the past, but recently they also started making 18+ works. I don't know super much about this game developer, but you can check updates here on their Twitter account.

Hen'ai Necromanticism (偏愛ネクロマンチシズム) Developer: Aikawa Nemu Release date: was 2024 but I think it's 2025 now

18+ BL game about vampires in modern day Tokyo. This one caught my attention because the theme song is sung by Itou Kanako, and Watanabe Kazuhiro is credited for the ending song. Both are well-known in the BL visual novel industry as they also sung the opening/ending songs for many of the Nitro Chiral games. You can check out the opening PV here! Apparently you can choose if you want the characters to be a top/bottom/switch which is something you don't often see in BL visual novels anymore, so I think this could be interesting.

New projects of which the release date is currently unknown ↓

New MadaLabo 18+ project Developer: MadaLabo/MadaKubo Release date: Unknown

A teaser for this was originally posted on Togo Mito's Twitter account (who's the writer and artist) in 2022, but a few new illustrations were posted on the MadaLabo account and in Cool-B recently. Not a lot of information is known about this game yet, but the protagonist is once again a top. In the final issue of Cool-B Togo Mito also mentioned how some might think his games are ''repetitive'' because the themes are often similar, but he will keep creating things he likes. In the past he created games like Hadaka Shitsuji and Kanja S no Kyuusai (or Patient S).

Kikai Densen (奇怪伝染) Developer: Kikyudo Release date: Unknown

18+ Mystery x BL novel game project. The story focuses on honor student Seiji who takes out his daily frustrations on his classmate Toshiyuki. As a result of the bullying, Toshiyuki decides to end his own life, however he returns as some kind of supernatural being. Now a monster, he decides to make Seiji's life a living hell. Promoted as a ''male ryona'' game, it's aready confirmed that it will include some heavy themes such as gore/rape. You can follow any updates on their Twitter account.

OUROBOROS if: CRAZY FOR YOU Developer: saiaku_exe Release date: Unknown

Protagonist Chuni suddenly gets trapped in the world of a gal game and is trying to find his way out. ''If I ignore all the heroines in this game and focus only on my childhood friend (boy) Mayumu, I should be able to return to my original world.'' The official page mentions that you can experience the despair of being surrounded by cute girls, but you can only romance the other boy character lol. This one also already has a Steam page which you can check out here.

Love it Hunter! Publisher: Equal Life Laboratory Release date: Was 2023 but currently unknown

Futuristic/Biopunk 18+ BL game in which humanity was saved by new technological developments while on the verge of extinction. There haven't been many updates recently, but they did publish a new illustration in Cool-B in January, so I think the project is still alive. A trial version of it was released in 2021 which seemed promising.

Psychic Eclipse code:green Publisher: C-Garden NEXT-B Release date: Was 2024 but currently unknown

A sequel of the original Psychic Eclipse game released in 2021. Takes place in a world in which humans developed psychic abilities. I liked the first game so I’m curious how they will continue the story. The official account is still actively posting updates, so I hope they will be able to release it this year.

Projects of which the status is currently unknown ↓

Cage -remake- Publisher: LOVE&DESTROY Release date: Unknown

This will be a complete remake of two older 18+ BL games (CAGE OPEN & CAGE CLOSE). Protagonist Konno is forced to play a mysterious “game” together with 8 other participants. They haven't really posted any updates for some time now, and a year ago they announced the hiatus of one of the writers, so since then there haven't been any updates. This project was crowdfunded so I do hope it will get released one day.

Caricature Camera Publisher: LOVE&DESTROY Release date: Unknown

New 18+ LOVE&DESTROY title, though they haven't updated the website for a couple of years now (I think they were busy working on the CAGE remake and its crowdfunding). The story focuses on protagonist Shinobu Kamo, who receives a job offer from a mysterious person after recently losing his previous job.

Akechi to Iu Otoko - A Danshaku-tei Satsujin Jiken (明智と謂ふ男 A男爵邸殺人事件) Publisher: Holicworks Release date: Unknown

New Holicworks project which is a collaboration with Animate Games. I decided to include this but I'm not sure if it's really BL because the original announcement didn't mention it, but I do think it's rated all-ages. Other than releasing the original teaser video and some extra images, they haven't posted any other information about it since their original announcement in 2022.

Suito wa Hakumei (水都は薄明) Publisher: Holicworks Release date: Unknown

New 18+ Holicworks title about a city which is permanently enveloped in twilight. I also wrote a short blog post about this one if you want to read more about it. The developer hasn't published any information about this project on their website for years, so honestly I'm not sure what will happen to it.

[miasmaghoul]

do you have any thoughts about mountains first time? doesnt have to be a whole ass prompt fill lol but who gets big boy?

(anon I regret to inform you that you sent this while i was disastrously high so you get a Weird One - warnings for terato/monsterfucking, mentions of blood (nonsexual), inhuman anatomy, scent kink, agendered character referred to as "it", use of cunt/clit to describe its anatomy, and some lore at the end)

I still have to finish that fic about his first time bottoming, that's with Omega. But his first time in general?

Well, technically...

Mountain was more feral than most when he was summoned, took a long time to settle into his vessel. He cost a number of siblings their lives before the higher ups decided it was a better idea to let him loose in a warded-off section of the forest. Let him work out the more animalistic traits in an environment better suited to his elemental nature.

He wanders the trees completely unglamoured, with furry, back-bent hooved legs and patches of moss, lichen and bark coating his limbs and torso. His antlers, still budding, grow faster like this and the trees in his path bear fresh gouges as a result. He hunts everything he can, tearing in with claws and elongated jaws alike. The scruffy mane of hair he sports lies matted with days worth of blood, sweat and grime, and it's the fourth night before Mountain finds his appetite sated.

Well, one of his appetites at least.

This new hunger is similar, but very different. He knows lust, of course - no being in Hell wouldn't - but ghouls don't have corporeal forms Downstairs. They feel things, sure, but in the way you "feel" and intense thought, or a specific fantasy. Like this, though, anchored to a physical being he's still learning the ins and outs of, the pressure sitting heavy between his thighs feels foreign. Foreign, but also hot and urgent and fuck he needs.

Mountain paws at himself with rough, inexperienced hands until the sheath between his legs starts to swell. The ghoul watches as it grows, chest heaving when the flared head reveals itself. Already slick and throbbing, Mountain's stomach clenches when every inch is finally exposed and the length of it pulses.

It's then that a certain scent makes his nostrils flare, his eyes go wide, and something deep inside Mountain goes achingly tight. It's not the first time he's smelled it since he woke in the forest, naked and groggy, but it's the first time he's felt the urge to find its source. Now that he does, though?

He needs.

Mountain crashes through the trees on instinct alone, panting and drooling down his chin no matter how many times his hooves catch a root or a row of thorns tears at his flesh. The scent grows thicker the deeper he gets into the dense wood; it's something raw, something syrupy sweet yet intoxicatingly bitter. Like burning leaves on a hot autumn day, rich and earthen but undercut with a sharpness that could only mean desire.

The closer he gets, the more he recalls smelling it before. He remembers catching it when he was savoring the spoils of a hunt, one he'd spent melting into the trees to stalk a particularly jumpy buck. Remembers waking up once, in a small clearing he'd thoroughly marked, only to find a second scent joining his own. Not covering his, not a challenge - though Mountain took great pleasure in...reclaiming his territory anyway. More like an invitation, one Mountain had had no interest in following at the time. That wasn't what he had needed.

Now that he's close to drowning in that scent, though, his cock dripping as it wags between his thighs, Mountain has no idea how he's gone so long without it.

He crashes through the branches of an overgrown willow, blood pounding in his ears and groin in equal measure, and the shiver that wracks him is one shared with the source of this intoxicating scent.

It sits in a nest at the base of the willow, one tucked into its roots and flanked by flowering bushes. There are enough gaps in the tree's limbs to let patches of sunlight filter through, dappling the creature before him.

The one currently on all fours, presenting its flushed, swollen cunt and staring over its shoulder and directly into the center of his brain.

It must be another ghoul, something distant tells him. He only has flashes of the time before the forest, but he can faintly recall a pair of...humans, were they called? They shifted before his eyes, one into a being of black fur and unnatural smoke and the other into scales and fins. They spoke the language of the Pit, and that's the only reason Mountain remembers them.

This one, this creature, looks similar to him, he thinks. He only has a few interrupted reflections in brooks and streams to go by, but it's legs are like his. Back-bent, hooved, but the hair coating them is jet black instead of his own sun-stained auburn. Their torsos differ too - where Mountain could blend in with the bark of any tree, it is instead coated in a combination of thicker fur and sleek black feathers that rustle like the leaves above. No antlers atop it's head, but instead a pair of segmented horns that curl against its skull. It's smaller than he is, more angular, and the few facial features Mountain can see are just as sharp as the talons it has dug into the soft earth.

It makes a sound then, a rattling hiss of a thing, and Mountain growls in response. It's automatic, as is the way he drops to all fours for his final approach. It watches his every move, unnatural eyes wide and growing blacker by the second, and Mountain flinches when it tips it's head and a scratchy voice fills his skull.

New, it rasps in a familiar but broken dialect, forked tongue flicking between it's lips. Maybe a ghoul? It's speech is odd. You're new. New smell. Different.

Mountain watches it's cunt pulse, a thick trail of slick dripping from its hole straight down the fat nub of its clit. That shiny length flexes, and Mountain's cock responds in kind. He snarls as he crawls up to the creature, licking his jaws. That incredible scent, so thick he can taste it, would be enough to drive anyone mad.

Could feel you coming. Could...in the roots and stones...

Mountain barely registers the words floating through his head, but he really likes the way they fade into an audible sharp trill when he buries his nose into the source of his torment.

The taste of it is beyond compare, and Mountain can't help but drag his face through its copious slick while he wriggles his long, thick tongue inside. Desperate to coat himself in it, ears filled with the unearthly sounds of the creature offering itself to him on a silver platter. His hips work in useless, uncoordinated humps, cock jabbing at thin air as that tight hole clamps down around his tongue, and the overwhelming desire he feels to be inside the being before him hits him like a punch to the gut.

You....watching me...

Mountain manages the message as he moves to bracket that smaller figure. It nods, shudders when he settles against its back, snuffling at the crook of its neck. Using his snout to nudge its head, force it to expose its throat so he can feel it thrum under his tongue.

Watched...hunt. Watched me...kill...

It gives a chirrup, and Mountain feels its short, raised tail twitching against his stomach. His cock jumps, the broad head smacking against its clit, and Mountain's growl shakes the earth itself. Those same stupid humps take over, and Mountain stretches his jaws to wrap around the back of its neck to force it still. He uses the last of his brainpower to throw a final thought into its mind.

Why...bring me...to you?

Mountain sinks his fangs into its throat just enough to get a taste of what lives beneath its skin, and as his eyes roll back the creature moans.

Different, it whispers back, canting its hips when Mountain mindlessly tries to line himself up. So long...since something was different...

Mountain's grunting like a disobedient dog, every thrust bumping his cock against its thighs, its tail, it's mound. So focused on getting it inside without releasing the creature from the cage of his limbs that the frustration only builds, his snarls becoming more and more bestial until -

The body beneath him arches as best it can, and as Mountain's aching cock finally squeezes between swollen lips to pop inside there's no way to know which of them is louder.

Mountain doesn't remember much after that.

One day, though, he'll learn the story of the feral ghoul who haunts these woods. The product of a botched summoning, it was always destined to become a creature of instinct. Tied to the realm Above only because its summoner still lives, left to its own devices where it won't pose a threat.

One day Mountain will learn the story of what used to be Cowbell, and when he does nothing will keep him from going back to those woods.

[goodlucktai]

raised on little light (3/?)

rise of the tmnt word count: 4k as you can see the chapter count has become a mystery even to me, i really was not anticipating another leo pov and yet the blue boy got me. as always big thank you to  @soldrawss and  @mykimouser for making this au richer and more lived-in than it would have been without them title borrowed from northern attitude by noah kahan read on ao3

x

2020

Leo is being carried. 

The rest of the world is a shapeless blur of muted color that slides in and out of focus the second he lets his mind wander, so he clings to what he knows. He’s three-fourths little brother down to his very core, and he knows exactly what it feels like to be picked up and taken somewhere by someone who wants him to go to bed, or come eat dinner at the table, or just be held until some danger is gone and a safe place is found. 

The footsteps beneath him echo in all directions even though they’re only resolutely headed in one, and there is a constant dull drum of water moving through pipes, punctuated by drips and splashes, and a stale, pungent smell that coats everything like a layer of growth. 

One sewer tunnel probably sounds like any other, but Leo would like to believe that he knows the way home when he hears it. He runs the risk of being wrong and finding himself someplace unfamiliar but he opens his eyes to take a peek anyway. 

It’s dark, with only passing moments of light from grates overhead to see by, and it takes a few more minutes than it should for Leo to realize that he does know where he is. He knows the poorly designed clusters of pipes, the faded brickwork covered in faded spray paint that a much younger Michelangelo left there before he ran out of room and had to branch out farther, the upcoming intersection with a maintenance tunnel to the left that always floods when it rains, where four little kids used to race paper boats. 

Home, Leo’s heart cries out. He’s so close now. For a crazy minute back there he thought that he’d never go home again. 

Belatedly, he thinks to pull his gaze inward, up toward the face of the person carrying him. Leo’s at an angle where he can really only observe a spotted cheek and a stubborn chin in profile. 

The guy who appeared out of nowhere to save him, the stranger who isn’t really a stranger if the ancestral magic in Leo’s chest that reaches eagerly towards him is to be believed. A bigger turtle who did what bigger turtles always did and carried the smaller one. 

Giorgio—that’s what he said his name was. Another painter. 

Another brother, Leo thinks, catching that thought with both hands and holding tight to it before it can disappear. It’s as quiet and slippery as a fish and Leo’s out here on a boat without a net.

“You know the way,” Leo says. It must be kind of abrupt from the way Gio’s eyes dart down to his in surprise. “You said you did,” Leo adds, to prove he’d been paying attention. “But how? Are you sure you’re real? Or are you a psycho—psy—pomp—uh—the thing that guides people’s souls when they die. You can tell me, I can take it.” 

If this is death it’s not too bad. He’d been imagining something a lot worse. But he can see Gio frown, and feels him shift Leo a little closer, as if daring any other monster lurking in the dark to try its worst. 

“You’re not dying,” the spotted turtle says. “You’ll be fine.” 

Leo assesses himself. Everything is a little floaty, a little hard to hold onto, and his head is killing him. He feels the way he did in the prison dimension, where gravity was an afterthought, half-heartedly doing its job. This feels alarmingly like that. 

He wants to believe he’s out, that home is just a few city blocks away, that he’ll follow his little brother’s paint trails all the way there, but he didn’t earn that miracle. It’s hard to understand why he would have gotten one in the first place. 

He was so sure he was done for. Doubt creeps in. He tries not to be afraid. 

It’s not about me, Leo thinks, but the mantra is losing some of its steel. He’s still that stupid, selfish kid that nearly got everyone killed, after all, he really hasn’t learned a thing. Even though he knows what he deserves, he still wants the other thing. He wants to go home. 

Eventually, Leo realizes that a faint low buzzing in his ear is actually humming. Gio is humming. It’s an unasked for, undeserved comfort, but it soothes the sudden sting of fear like lidocaine. Leo absorbs it, then abruptly something clicks in the back of his mind and the song resolves itself into one he recognizes. 

Three little birds sat on my window…

“Oh,” he says, “I love this song. You must not be an alien after all, not if you know what good music sounds like.” 

“Is that how that works?” Gio stops humming to ask. He’s not smiling, but his voice sounds like one anyway. 

“Hey, I’m the expert here,” Leo says importantly, proud of himself when he only slurs on the sibilants. “You’ve passed the first part of my litmus test. Now I just need you to select all the images that contain bridges.” 

“Sorry, I don’t know what you mean.” Leo is about to explain the joke when Gio goes on, completely straight-faced, “We don’t have CAPTCHAs on my planet.”

It takes a moment to register—a longer moment than it should, which Leo is happy to blame on his concussion and Gio’s frankly amazing poker face—but when it does, Leo can’t help but laugh. 

He hasn’t laughed since the invasion started, and for awhile back there he was pretty sure he’d never laugh again, but now he’s wheezing breathlessly even though it sparks pain all through his ribs, half-smothered against Gio’s shoulder. 

When he thinks to look, he sees Gio smiling for real this time.

I don’t know where you came from, Leo thinks, or maybe says out loud, but I’m glad you’re here. 

Gio’s step falters a little bit, but he keeps walking. 

The closer they get to the turnstiles that serve as the front entrance to the lair, the more clearly Leo can make out raised voices. The confused rambling in his brain goes quiet and his heart sits up at attention, because it sounds like Mikey is shouting. It sounds like he’s crying. 

“Oh, no,” Leo says. “We gotta—hey, we gotta get in there.” 

He is abruptly aware of his missing swords, the lack of any suitable stand-in for him to transform into a sword. He’s tapped out, he doesn’t think he could so much as walk a few steps on his own, but he won’t let that stop him. He would portal to the moon a hundred times if it would take that grief-adjacent anger out of his baby brother’s tone. 

Gio doubles his pace, because he’s clearly a turtle with his priorities in order, hopping the turnstiles and shooting like an arrow through the messy living room toward the garage where all the noise seems to be coming from. 

Mikey’s still shouting. The sound is grating and horrible, like it’s hurting his throat to do it, like it’s about to either ratchet up into a shriek or double over into a howl at any moment. Leo can’t make out what he’s saying, but he doesn’t need to know to be unsettled by it. He’s never heard Mikey sound this way before, not even when they lost Gram-gram and the first lair and had to leave dad behind. What could possibly be worse than all of that?

“That’s my sunshine,” Leo tells Gio seriously. “Shouldn’t sound like that at all. World might still be ending.”

“As far as he’s concerned, it is,” Gio replies. “He thinks his big brother died.” 

Leo’s stomach lurches sickly, an instant, intense reaction, because his mind connects ‘big brother’ straight to Raphie and then draws another line to connect Raphie to ‘died,’ and then everything falls out from under him like the ground is gone and the sky is gone and it’s just bleak empty horrible nothing in all directions.

Only he can hear Raph’s warbling rumble from down the hall now, all thick and syrupy, stuttering in a way that’s unlike him. It puts a hard pause on Leo’s panic, yanking up the emergency brake. Raph is alive. 

His twin is also Mikey’s big brother, and maybe that’s who Gio meant, but now that Leo has had a moment of stunned disorientation—confusion that is sitting with itself instead of just screaming wordlessly in both his ears—he realizes Donnie’s little light in Leo’s soul is as warm and alive as ever. So is Raph’s, and Mikey’s, and April’s, and dad’s. Their constellation hasn’t gone dark anywhere. If anything, it’s one star brighter than it used to be. 

Then they’re in the doorway and there’s no more time to think because Leo is staring across the garage at his family, who are all staring back at him. The sudden silence rings for a very long, stretching second. They’re all there—everyone Leo held close to his heart in hell, everyone he was ready to die for. 

They’re all staring at him like they’ve just seen a ghost. They’re all very still, like the ghost might disappear if they’re not careful.

This is when Leo should say something. He had—back in the prison dimension, he had so much he wanted to say to all of them. So many last words and goodbyes. 

When he opens his mouth, what spills out is, “I’m sorry.” He’s looking at Raph, his Raphie, whose right eye is inflamed and puffed closed, whose left shoulder still hasn’t been bandaged by anyone. It must hurt. Leo hates that it hurts, that it’s his fault it hurts. “I’m sorry,” he tries again. “You’re my hero. That’s what I meant. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t know what else to do. I’m sorry. I love you. I’m sorry.”

Suddenly Donnie is right there, so fast he must have teleported, which is not a thing that Leo knew Donnie knew how to do. He wastes no time pulling Leo into a crushing hug and they sink to the floor beneath Leo’s weight. 

Leo’s ribs and leg scream in protest but that’s their own problem. Donnie’s snuffling wetly, sad softshell sounds that make Leo’s heart crack right down the middle, that hurt like knives in his stomach, that override every single other thing in the universe. He hugs Donnie back as hard as he’s capable of. He’s not letting go until someone wrestles him away. 

A smaller body collides with them both and the embrace changes shape. Donnie would only loosen this particular brand of death grip if it was to include their baby brother. Mikey burrows right in, shoving his damp face against Leo’s shoulder, his whole body heaving with how hard he’s sobbing. 

And then they’re all seized in huge arms and held securely against a rumbling chest that Leo would know anywhere. He’d know Raph even if he was deaf and blind and numb, he’d know him at the end of the world. The whole world.

“Leo,” Raph sobs. It’s all he can seem to manage, so he says it again. “Leo.” 

“You scared me so bad,” Mikey chokes out. “Lee, I thought, I thought I’d never see you again.”

Leo can’t move more than to press his cheek to the top of Mikey’s head. “Reports of my death have been greatly—” 

“Make one single joke and I’ll murder you, and no jury on earth would convict me for it,” Donnie hisses against his temple, still roughly more turtle than person. 

“Noted,” Leo mumbles, and then makes an upset sound because Raph is setting them all down and Mikey is peeling away just barely and he doesn’t know why they’re letting go even that much until familiar hands are cupping his face. “Daddy,” he realizes, going boneless. “I missed you.”

It’s nowhere near big enough to describe how badly he wanted his dad when he was on the other side of that portal. He doesn’t know any words big enough. 

“I missed you, too, Baby Blue,” Splinter says, stroking the stripes on Leo’s cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, unendingly gentle, the way nothing in the prison dimension was gentle. “Luckily we will not have another opportunity to miss each other for a very long time because you are grounded for the next century.”

An excuse to stay home forever is not a bad thing to the person Leo is currently, but he still has a brand to maintain, so he says, “Hmf. I want my lawyer.” 

“She’s already filed a motion to withdraw from the case, on grounds of her client being an uncooperative little shit,” April says from somewhere above him, voice drawing in closer as she presses a firm kiss to his forehead. “You’re doing the time.” 

“This whole justice system is a scam,” Leo says. He has to blink hard so he doesn’t lose focus, there’s still one person he hasn’t put eyes on. He’ll have bad dreams if he falls asleep before he checks in on everybody. “Where’s Junior? He’ll be on my side.” 

Something uncomfortable and guilty steals across his sibling’s faces—the faces Leo can see, anyway. Donnie still has his tucked in the crook of Leo’s neck and shoulder and doesn’t seem inclined to change that anytime soon. Raph ducks out of the way a little, and Mikey says, “He’s—yeah, he’s here—” 

The human boy who shuffles forward is wringing his hands, face ashen and tacky with old tears and eyes glassy with new ones. He looks more anxious and sick to his stomach now than he did when he was unwillingly pitched through a time gateway by the remnants of his doomed family. The second he meets Leo’s eyes he crumples to his knees so he’s looking up at Leo instead of down, this poor kid they all owe so much. 

“I’m so sorry,” Casey says. His voice doesn’t tremble or break but there’s barely any air behind it, like it’s taking everything he has to get the words out. “I closed the portal on you. I killed you. I’m so sorry, sensei.” 

Leo hates everything about this. He lurches forward, gets exactly nowhere with all the people holding him, but manages to free an arm and snatch up one of Casey’s restless hands.

“Three things,” he says, wishing he could be more eloquent, “and you need to listen.” 

“I’m listening,” Casey whispers. 

“I told you to close the portal. I put that on you. That wasn’t right. I shouldn’t have made you do that. Right after you lost your dad. That was just—horrible for you—and when my brain isn’t a scrambled egg I’ll make it up to you. I will,” he adds fiercely, when Casey opens his mouth to interject. “Hush. You’re still listening. The second thing—you didn’t kill me, I’m right here. Alive, not a ghost.” 

Not a ghost, he thinks, because no one would go all the way to the prison dimension to save a ghost. And no one would hum for a ghost, or carry one home, or share a stupid joke to make the darkness around them not so dark. Not a ghost. 

“And—you’re still listening?” Leo checks. Casey nods jerkily like a puppet on a string. Leo squeezes his hand and says, “You saved us. You saved everybody. Don’t be sorry. You’re a lifesaver, Casey Jones.”

That child soldier comportment finally dissolves enough for the shaken seventeen-year-old underneath it all to peer out, devastated, orphaned, displaced. He holds Leo’s hand in both of his own and nods again. 

“How did you get out, Leo?” Raph asks, absurdly tentative as he asks the question they’re probably all wondering. He sounds afraid to jinx his good luck. 

“New brother,” Leo says. “Who is not imaginary. Or an alien. He was tested extensively and passed with flying colors.”

“Good to know,” April says, gently stroking his sore head the way he could remember her doing every time he was sick since the age of seven. Then she pauses. “Wait, did you say—”

It’s funny, they’re all ninjas or ninja-adjacents, and they still managed to completely forget about the whole entire extra mutant turtle in the room. The turtle who carried Leo here, who Donnie extracted Leo from in the first place, who has been quietly observing their reunions this entire time. 

So overall, situational awareness is definitely an area that needs some improvement, but in their defense it’s been one hell of a day. 

Gio, for his part, is as good as a statue in the doorway. Every warm hint of feeling Leo managed to thaw out of him is back behind a resting murder face, that face that stared down the Krang General without flinching. 

“Hi,” he says once the entire room is staring at him, as unflappable as ever. “Gio,” he adds, by way of introduction. 

He’s so cool, Leo thinks, or maybe says out loud, if the sidelong looks his siblings give him are any indication. It’s hard to keep track when all he wants to do is lay his aching head down for roughly fifty consecutive hours. 

“Oh,” Mikey says, wide-eyed. It’s a sentiment echoed on Donnie and Raph’s faces, too. 

They’re letting themselves feel it, recognizing him the way Leo did in that connected place where their ninpo lives—the steadfast red mountain, and brilliant purple lightning, and cheerful orange bonfire, and mischievous blue wind, the landscape that Leo knows as well as he knows his own face in the mirror. 

There’s another feeling there now, another color; a fifth presence. Soft, unassuming gray that could turn stormy in an instant. Calm water meeting the shore at low tide. Miles away yet, not quite close enough to touch, but undeniable. A piece they hadn’t even realized was missing until it wasn’t anymore. 

“Little Spot?” Splinter blurts. He looks rattled. If he wasn’t kneeling on the floor already he might have fallen over. He pushes himself upright, bracing himself on Raph’s shoulder, and says, “It is you. One of my sweet baby turtles. But how can it be you? I watched—the day we escaped the lab, a machine went haywire, and you were—”

“The light you saw back then was a portal,” Gio says. His tone gives absolutely nothing away. He could just as easily be talking to anyone about any old thing. “It didn’t kill me. It just took me someplace else.” 

“A portal,” Splinter says numbly. “All this time, one of my babies has just been—someplace else.”

“Splints, how can you be so sure?” April says, more out of journalistic curiosity than any real disbelief. 

Splinter beckons at Gio with both hands. There’s a brief, stilted pause on Gio’s end, and then he obediently folds to his knees so the rat can reach him. He looks like the very last thing he’s expecting is to be held the way Leo was held just minutes ago, his spotted face cradled carefully in his dad’s hands. Suddenly he looks his age. 

“Yes, look at that,” Splinter says warmly. “He has my eyes, just as his brothers do. There is no mistake. He is one of ours.” 

From the way Gio blinks, it’s his first time hearing anything like that. His stillness now is more aligned with a prey animal than a badass alien-killing predator, as if he’s keeping himself safe by not moving a single inch or even breathing visibly. Leo feels a pang in his stomach, made lonely just by proximity to that expression on his new brother’s face. 

Stick around, Georgie, Leo thinks, and you’ll forget what it felt like to be alone. I promise, I swear. 

“Oh, what?” Mikey whines thickly, rubbing his face dry on Leo’s arm like the brat he is. “We had another brother this whole time and we’re only just getting him now? That’s not fair!” 

“Clemmys guttata, an aquatic turtle,” Donnie says, bright-eyed with interest. “Clearly a man of distinguished taste. I’ll need a blood sample.”

“Donnie,” April says with an air of exhaustion. 

“Raph has so many questions,” Raph admits. 

“I’ll answer them,” Gio says calmly. If he’s overwhelmed, it would be nearly impossible to prove it. “But first Leo needs a medic.” 

It’s comical the way everyone springs into action the second they finish processing that statement—or it would be, if Leo wasn’t suddenly un-hugged by a whole bunch of people. Displeased, he says, “He doesn’t need a medic, he is a medic. I know exactly which of my bones are broken, thank you very much.” 

“You have broken bones?” Donnie snaps. “And you’ve just been sitting on the floor letting us manhandle you like an entire idiot?” 

“Infirmary,” Casey announces, already halfway across the room. “Sensei trained me in field medicine, I can help with anything short of open-heart surgery. Are we stocked?”

“Who do you think you’re dealing with?” April says, which means ‘yes, our resident paramedic is pedantic about one thing and one thing only and that’s having enough medical supplies to outlast a zombie apocalypse.’ 

Leo is scooped up in Raph’s arms, handled much more carefully now that everyone is aware of his not-entirely-intact state. Normally at this point he would be sinking, lulled into uselessness. The adrenaline fading, the individual hurts jumping up and down and waving pompoms to get his attention. He’s so close now to being able to just lay down and let someone else take care of things, but—

But Gio hasn’t made any move to join them. He’s lingering behind, like he’s trying to be respectful of someone else’s family during this difficult time. Or like he’s just waiting for them to forget about him so he can disappear. 

Leo’s heart jumps as panic seizes him by the throat and all quiet, peaceful thoughts of passing out go up in smoke. 

“Wait,” he blurts, lurching forward so suddenly that Raph almost drops him. “Hey, don’t go.” 

What if the Krang comes back? What if Leo gets lost and ends up in the prison dimension again? What if he never got out in the first place? Leo is pretty sure he’s home for real, and he’s almost one-hundred percent positive that everything is okay, but he wants Gio to be here just in case. He wants all his siblings safe where he can see them, including this one. 

Leo doesn’t realize he’s reaching until his open hands are taken carefully. Gio holds them and leans in to look right at Leo so Leo can look right at him. His eyes are deep and dark but there’s rich, warm brown in them when the light’s just right. His face could be carved from stone, but it softens for smaller turtles. 

Gio glances up at Raph. Leo doesn’t have to look to know that Raph is probably smiling warmly back at him. If Gio is looking for a reason to leave, he won’t find one there. 

Donnie is a harder sell on most days, but not on this one. He’s still got one hand wrapped around Leo’s arm. He’s still shivering off and on, like he just had a really close brush with his absolute worst nightmare and now he keeps seeing afterimages of it each time he blinks. Donnie would be willing to make peace with Big Mama and Witch Town and the Purple Dragons all in the same day if they were the ones who brought his twin home—but since it was Gio, he gets the free lifetime pass into Donatello’s good graces, which is a lot like winning the Powerball jackpot on your first try. 

And Mikey, of course, is everything bright and sweet and spoiled in the world, beaming at Gio and gearing up to baby brother his way into getting exactly what he wants, accepting no substitutions. 

“Come on, at least give us the chance to win you over,” he wheedles. “I’ll make my world-famous breakfast empanadas in the morning if that sweetens the pot!”

Gio seems to have no idea how to look directly at Mikey’s shining face, so he looks down at his own hands instead. Leo holds onto them a little tighter, and it feels almost like being back in the prison dimension, knowing the most important thing he can do is hold on. 

Come in already, Leo imagines calling out to the tide, that distant crashing water still dithering off the coast, still making its mind up about making this place its home. We saved a spot for you. 

“Stay,” Leo says stubbornly. Unreasonably, maybe. Gio came here from somewhere, and presumably has somewhere to go when he’s done killing aliens and babysitting clingy turtles, but he can belong to them, too, can’t he? They’re all big kids, they can share. 

Whoever else loves him out there in the universe must love him enough to share, or they wouldn’t have let him go in the first place. 

“Let’s make a deal,” Gio finally offers. 

“I’m listening,” Leo replies, game face on.

“If you accept all the medical attention Casey decides you need without sulking or fast-talking or trying to sneak off,” Gio says flatly, that blink-and-you-miss-it humor, “I’ll stay for breakfast.” 

Leo gapes at him, game face off. “Uh, hey, new guy, what gave you the impression I would do any of those things?” 

Donnie doesn’t bother containing his snort, amusement breaking through the stormy upset on his face, and Mikey laughs out loud. Raph’s chest is rumbling, affectionate and happy, and Gio is gazing at all of them like he knows exactly how much their smiles are worth. 

Like he knows exactly how much Leo is worth, and he’s willing to stick around anyway. 

“Deal?” Gio says, quiet and kind. 

“Yeah.” Leo matches his tone without meaning to, all but whispering, “Deal.”

[anotherscreed]

SORRY I FORGOT ABOUT THE MULTIVERSE THING. anyway this is like my fourth time trying to get this damn link to show up on this site so hopefully the fourth time'll be the charm or whatever since the third wasn't-

[A link is attached to a news website, apparently for the digital version of the Castelia Times. Upon clicking on it, the first thing that comes up—unless there is an adblocker involved—is a pop-up informing the website visitor that this is one of their five free articles for this month, and that they should consider subscribing to support journalism.

Once they've dealt with the pop-up as they will, though, the title of the article becomes clear: Anonymous Leaker Reveals Aether Foundation Involvement in 2017 Alolan Ultra Beast Crisis.

It becomes immediately clear after a handful of paragraphs that the reporter is not fond of Aether's recent expansion into other regions from Sinnoh to Unova and therefore is absolutely delighted that an anonymous hacker found and leaked security footage stored on Aether's own servers.

Previous leaks/data dumps provided by this particular hacker have ranged from revealing that a professor at Blueberry Academy was far more concerned with her ancestor's conspiracy theories than the well-being of her own students to leaking emails making it clear that the upper management of Silph Co. was not only aware of Team Rocket's plans to take over their Saffron City building but thought it would ultimately increase profits in the long run to allow the team to do what they wanted.

This, however, is something a little bigger. There are two main videos that have been shared with the wider internet, seemingly taken from security camera footage in the Alolan branch of the Aether Foundation.

According to the reporter, viewer discretion is advised, and they have provided warnings for Pokémon abuse, child abuse, and—for some reason—a woman named Lusamine Aether, who is apparently the current president of the Aether Foundation.

In the first video attached, Lusamine is shown verbally berating a young girl, referred to as Lillie, who looks very similar to her. She refers to the girl as disappointing in comparison to her companion—a girl of similar age referred to by Lusamine as Selene—before claiming that she doesn't have any children who would "reject her love" and that maybe if Lillie had been better, she could have saved Cosmog, something that seems from context to be a Pokémon that Lusamine will be forcing to "use its power."

The second video attached seems to pick up close to where the last one left off, albeit in a different room, and in one where there are numerous Pokémon implied from what Lusamine says about them to have been frozen solid and "preserved" while they were still alive. The girls from earlier are horrified before a boy in black who bears significant resemblance to both Lillie and Lusamine rushes in with another friend in tow.

The exact words "All I ever did was give you two all the love I had, and all you did was betray me! You have no right to ask for my attention now!" are uttered by Lusamine, before she declares in response to the other boy (who is apparently named Hau) that they once were family, perhaps, before her former children (who she describes as wretches) left her.

She then forces the Cosmog inside a container to use its power at the expense of its own wellbeing, opening Ultra Wormholes all over Alola in addition to one right there, before ordering someone working for her to "quiet those children for me" as she doesn't "want to hear from them again," which is a wild thing to say about a group of preteens (and one kid who looks like a young, particularly edgy teenager).

The reporter's article concludes with stating that neither the Aether Foundation's main branch nor their Unova branch have responded to a request for comment, and they're frankly unsure of how to get in touch with the hacker Sedici, but that the Alolan government is taking clear evidence of Lusamine Aether's involvement in the Ulra Beast Crisis very seriously and there are rumors of the International Police getting involved.]

[bun-lapin]

Confessions

Summary: Floyd confesses his love to you.

A/N: Fourth one shot! This one is a bit on the short side as it was a pretty busy week for me. But I feel like I'm hitting a good stride with this series! Hopefully I don't run out of idea though lol lots of characters still to get through~

Confessions series: Rook, Kalim, Idia, Floyd, Vil, Silver, Leona, Trey / AO3

Standing under an ancient apple tree, you listen to the peaceful sounds of wind rustling through green leaves and birds chirping on a high branch. On the other side of the courtyard, you hear a handful of students having quiet, friendly conversations among themselves. You lean back against the gnarled bark of the tree with a sigh and let your eyes wander across the scene in front of you. You visually trace a path across the lush grass lawn, over a few wooden benches, down the paved pathway, and continue up the stone columns supporting the roof of the exterior corridor. Your gaze finally stops there on the corridor roof where Floyd sits, legs dangling over the side and lazily smiling down at you.

"Easy enough, right? Now come up here and join me!" Floyd calls down to you with a slight waggle of his fingers.

You walk over to stand on the pathway under Floyd’s perch and call up to him, “That was a very impressive parkour demonstration but”-you consider the considerable height from the ground to the roof and shake your head with a grimace- “there’s absolutely no way I’m going up there.”

Floyd gives you an exaggerated pout and whines, “Aww, that’s no fun shrimpy!” He reaches into his back pocket with a smirk on his face and holds up a small familiar looking object. “I guess that means you don't want your wallet back then."

You give all of your pockets a quick pat down before letting out a long frustrated sigh. That is indeed your wallet up there in Floyd’s hands. With your hands in your pockets you look over the lanky and relaxed figure sitting high above, and you briefly weigh your options. Your hands close around a small peppermint candy you had grabbed from the Mystery Shop earlier and an idea flashes in your mind.

“Floyd, I’m not going up there so why don’t you just DROP IT?!” you yell out the last few words as you pitch the small candy as hard as you can at the hand holding your wallet.

"Whoa Shrimpy!” Floyd nimbly dodges the thrown confectionery and looks down at you in disbelief. “Did you just throw something at me?!"

You look up at Floyd’s face, his eyes wide and his playful smile gone without a trace. For a few tense seconds, you stare at each other and you begin to wonder if you should make a run for it.

Floyd’s face suddenly breaks out into a wide, sharp grin and he throws his head back in a fit of high pitched laughter. He looks down at you, eyes sparkling with laughter and exclaims, “That's too hilarious! You're pretty bold, shrimpy! I guess that's why I like you." He smiles in an appreciative and relaxed way at you.

You cross your arms over your chest, regretting the failure of your candy plan, and reply in a dry, sarcastic voice, “Yup, that’s me. Just a regular old charmer. You’re so lucky to be my friend.”

Floyd’s smile drops instantly and is replaced by a small frown. "You're not hearing me right, shrimpy.” He stands up and places your wallet back into his pocket. “I said I like you."

You raise your eyebrows questioningly at him and reply, “Yeah that’s basically what I said, right?”

Floyd looks down at you in silence for a few seconds, an unreadable expression on his face. He then takes a step off the corridor roof and lands as effortlessly as if he had just stepped off of the ground. You watch him casually walk over to you with rising curiosity and when he finally stops to stand in front of you with arms crossed over his chest, you tilt your head inquisitively at him.

After staring at you thoughtfully for a moment, Floyd smiles in a secretive way. His mismatched eyes twinkle playfully and crinkle at the corners, as if he knows something hilarious that you don’t. Reaching out towards you, he gently takes both of your hands in his and breezily says, “Let me phrase this in a way that makes it crystal clear for you.”

Floyd begins to slowly walk a circle around you and, with your hands still firmly held in his, you find yourself turning in a circle as well while still facing him. It’s almost as if the two of you are dancing some sort of very slow and lazy kind of waltz. You laugh softly at the thought and Floyd mirrors your laugh with one of his own. He leans a little closer to you and his voice is quiet yet excited, like he’s telling a funny story during class.

"I never know what I'm going to get with you. You're wild, unpredictable, and perfect. To me, you're like endless fireworks falling over the sea. One minute, hot sparks of gold and red. The next minute, cool sea foam floating on the water. Never the same way twice but more wonderful every time after."

He stops walking and, still holding on to you, Floyd looks you over in silence. His expression is one of pure appreciation and marvel. The way he looks it’s as if he’s found sunken treasure and you feel a pleasant tingling in your cheeks, swept up by Floyd’s infectious excitement. Studying his face, you think that it’s the most sincere you’ve ever seen him.

Leaning in closer still, Floyd places his lips close to your ear and whispers with an airy laugh, "A guy could really get hooked on someone like you."

He leans back and smirks when he sees your wide eyes and slightly flushed face. Giving your hands a quick and gentle squeeze, he finally lets go and reaches into his back pocket. He hands your wallet over to you and simply says, "Take a look inside."

With Floyd’s words and cryptic actions swirling and tumbling through your mind, you almost feel like bursting from curiosity and excitement. You open your wallet and in the main pocket you find a small folded piece of paper. Upon unfolding it, you see a message written in a familiar hand. Written in red ink are the words “I love you” with a tiny heart drawn in the corner of the paper.

You suddenly feel a large hand gently land on your shoulder and you look up from the message in your hands to find Floyd’s face right in front of yours. You softly gasp from surprise but with his hand on your shoulder you can’t step back. His face is so close you can almost count his eyelashes and you find yourself tracing the sloping lines of his eyes with your gaze. Looking at his odd colored eyes, one bright and one dark, you feel as if you’re simultaneously looking at the morning and evening sky. It’s a confusing yet exhilarating kind of feeling.

Floyd laughs softly and flashes you an easygoing grin. “So what do you think, Shrimpy? Did I surprise you?”

[dailyreverie]

Christmas tree farm

A/N: After @reallyrallyauthor sent me this wonderful ask of corgi BB being caried around christmas trees (pictured below) I had to run and write this. Title of course comes from the Taylor Swift song with the same name.

Holiday prompts ⛄ 9. Evergreen tree

Pairing: Poe Dameron x reader

Modern!AU, corgi Beebee (kind of set in the same universe of this fall fic)

Word count: 980

Twinkling lights and the smell of fresh pines danced around your eyes on that cold december day. Your nose began to freeze the second you left the warmth of the car, but after looking around and feeling Poe’s hand find yours, you knew it wasn’t going to be that bad. 

Just as it always goes on every road trip, Poe opens the door of the back seat and the usual ball of fur speeds out, snow flying around Beebee’s chubby body as he ran all around the lot packed with christmas trees. “He could at least help us find a tree.” Poe remarked as his arm settled around your shoulders, keeping the warmth close to your bodies.

“The tree he pees on is the one we take home.” Poe scoffed, pushing your hip with his. 

Finding the perfect Christmas tree had become your tradition. The very first weekend of the month you would drive to the same lot, drink the same mulled wine, and begin your search for the perfect tree.

The two of you wandered through the rows of evergreen trees, the crisp winter air tingling your noses and filling your lungs. Beebee ran ahead, leaving a trail of paw prints in the snow, making sure not one tree was left without inspecting it with his nose. 

Poe squeezed your hand, his breath visible in the chilly air. "You know, Beebee might be onto something with his method,"

“Told ya’, the one he pees on…” You chuckled, leaning into him.

“I know we always find the best tree but this time I want it to be special, bigger, fresher.” You looked up at him when he stopped talking, his eyes busy scanning the trees. The twinkling lights above shined warmly against his skin, letting you admire his profile in a silent appreciation, his head clearly going through a thousand thoughts as it always goes, even when it came to choosing a pine tree.

“And why is that?” You asked, even though you knew the answer; and he knew you knew, the way he turned to look at you told you so, with a soft smile and a raised eyebrow.

“Y’know…” All of a sudden he got shy, sliding down his arm from your shoulder to hold your hand instead - your left hand, the one that held the ring he gave you right on your fourth knuckle. Poe toyed with it, his mother’s ring had never looked so beautiful as it looked on you. “Years from now we are going to remember this year as the year. The year we got engaged, when we started the rest of our lives. I want our Christmas to be just as perfect as the rest of the year has been.”

“Of course is going to be perfect.” You stopped, stepping in front of him to hold his face with your gloved hands. “It’s the year we got engaged, after all.” Your twist on his reasoning made him chuckle, his hands pulling you even closer to him by your waist, letting his lips crash against yours. The cold air seemed to fade away, replaced by the warmth of Poe's embrace. As you broke the kiss, you couldn't help but smile at the realization that, with him, every moment felt special.

A distant bark broke you from your haze, and as you turn to find where it was coming from, yuou spotted Beebee standing proudly beside a tree, tail wagging, and a suspicious puddle of liquid right next to the trunk. The tree was gorgeous: tall, full of thick branches, and the most lovely smell coming from it. Poe bent down to ruffle the furry head, laughing. “Looks like we found the tree.” He confirmed. “You were right after all.”

“I’m always right, you should know that by now.” You winked, earning a quick peck from Poe before he disappeared to find someone who could help you pack up the tree.

Not long after it was all set, the tree was on the roof of your car and you had bought a few local snacks for the ride back in the small hut close by. It was there were you spotted Beebee, comfortably curled up in a ball right next to a heater. “No! Come on, Beebs!” Poe encouraged him, patting his leg to lure him out. “It’s time to go.”

“I don’t think he’s coming, love.” From behind his shoulder, you spot Beebee already falling asleep. “He’s cold, the poor guy.” You coo at him, his tail instantly wagging at the baby voice you save only for him. You don’t give it a second thought when you reach under him and carry him in your arms, his fluffy body cozily snuggling against your arms as you begin your walk back to your car.

"Looks like someone has found his cozy spot," Poe chuckled at Beebee's apparent protest against wanting to be back in the cold. “My cozy spot.”

You cradled Beebee in your arms, his fur warm against your gloves, and you couldn't help but share a tender glance with Poe. "Well, he deserves a little break, doesn't he?" As you made your way back to the car, Poe opened the door for you, and you gently placed Beebee on the back seat, ensuring he was comfortable. The small dog curled up, his eyes drooping as he nestled into a makeshift bed of blankets and coats.

Poe trapped you against the door and his body when he closed the door, a playful smile on his face as he kept closing the distance more and more. “You know, I am cold too.”

🎄❄️🚀🎄❄️🚀🎄❄️🚀🎄❄️🚀🎄❄️🚀🎄❄️🚀

“Oh, sweetheart.” You coo at Poe too, who’s eyes lit up a little bit too much alike to Beebee’s. You can’t help but kiss him, soft and sweet, reminding him what he already knows: “You’ll get all the warmth when we get home.” 

"A Christmas we won't forget, isn't it?" Poe chuckled against your lips and kissed you again, deeper this time, wanting to remember that kiss forever.

Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it!

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Lollipops

Timari January Day 1: Lollipop

By @maribat-calendar-events

Listen, when Marinette Dupain-Cheng opened up a clinic, she had been expecting a lot of things.

Children, since she was officially in pediatric care. You know, the branch devoted to treating children.

Eventually, she expanded to consider her patients might include henchmen, as well. And she had been mentally prepared, perhaps, to possibly meet their bosses, if they wanted to thank her for their services in person, though she had doubted this.

She had not, however, been expecting to look a vigilante dead in the eyes (domino mask, it didn’t matter)... or, at least, not like this. She had been expecting to get approximately one glimpse of their usual suits and then have a fist obscure most of her vision. Not to see him hunched over in one of her chairs, hugging the knife buried in his side.

“... hi,” she said, glancing behind herself at the Scarecrow goon she had been about to lead out the door. “I can get to you in a minute.”

The vigilante didn’t say ‘okay’, but he didn’t say ‘no’, either. From what she had been told, this wasn’t uncommon. Introverts, the lot of them.

She quietly closed the door and pointed the goon towards the exit, and waited a few minutes with her ear against the door to make sure he hadn’t gotten immediately jumped by a second, secret vigilante. Once she was reasonably sure that the henchman had gotten away to safety, she went back to the vigilante who was, apparently, in her care.

He was… still in that chair. Stab wounds will do that to you, she supposed.

She hesitated as she eyed him up and down.

This was Red Robin, she was pretty sure, though he could have been Robin or Red Hood or really just any other male vigilante in Gotham… they all looked the same. She wasn’t going to say it aloud, though, she didn’t want to risk being wrong. Embarrassing.

Also, she was pretty sure she was on thin ice right now. Getting his name wrong might just screw her over.

Thankfully, he was aware of her presence immediately, and she didn’t have to call his name to get his attention.

She sent him a slightly nervous smile. “You do know this is pediatric care, don’t you? I was trained to treat children.”

“The guy before me wasn’t a child.”

“He has a kid,” she said. Technically, this was true.

“Was the kid here?”

“I plead the fifth. And the fourth. And any other applicable laws that might help me right now.”

He snorted. “I’m not a cop.”

“You still get people arrested, I’m not going to risk it.”

He lifted his hands in a kind of ‘I surrender’ gesture, only to wince. He quickly went back to applying pressure to his wound, which was probably for the best.

Marinette shook her head to herself, sighing. “I’ll bring my equipment over here. I’d rather not have to carry you.”

“I can still walk,” he said.

He moved as if to stand. She grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him back down, giving him a cold look.

“Don’t do that. Christ.”

He groaned and slumped back in his chair, pouting like the child that she was supposed to actually be getting. How had her life come to this?

You say ‘ohmygod why are you bleeding on my doorstep oh my FUCKING GET INSIDE’ to a henchman one time and suddenly it just becomes your thing.

She sighed internally as she went about collecting her things and then sighed externally when her eyes flicked to the security footage. She had put a camera next to the door a while back, when she had first started taking henchmen. She didn’t use it often, she really just had it to make people at least hesitate before trying to steal things.

Anyways, the point is, Red Robin was not in the chair she had left him in.

She made sure her next footstep was audible, before feigning a pause to make sure she had everything she needed.

By the time she stepped out, he was back in his chair, looking for all the world as if he had never left.

Marinette hated life.

She was quick in stitching him up. Perhaps quicker than was strictly medically advisable, but whatever. This wasn’t meant to be permanent or anything, this was just to last him until Batman could, like, magically fix it. Or whatever that cryptid of a man did. Marinette, frankly, preferred not knowing.

She pulled back, wiping bloody hands on the towel around her neck.

“Normally, I’d say to take things easy for the next few weeks, minimum, but considering…” she shrugged. “I dunno. Just try not to pop those.”

He tilted his head to the side consideringly for just a moment.

And then he laughed. “No promises.”

“It was worth a shot.”

He jumped to his feet, and she cringed just slightly. But it wasn’t like she could stop him if that was what he wanted to do. She could only mumble a few curses under her breath and move to leave so she could close up shop.

Red Robin lingered for just a few seconds longer than she expected him to.

Marinette narrowed her eyes at him briefly. She figured it was probably best to just ask him outright whether or not he needed to go through some files. He was going to do it regardless of her wishes, and she liked pretending to have free will.

“So, is my clinic up to par with your standards?”

Red Robin didn’t bother denying that he had had ulterior motives for visiting.

Instead, he held up a candy he had grabbed from the jar on her desk.

“For sure. You guys have lollipops.”

[azyranx]

Finally finished this one, and right before the year draws to a close too. Looking forward to adding to this AU in the new year.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Many mechs contented themselves with living in the cities. With the stability and safety they afforded, it wasn’t hard to see why. Who wanted to spend every moment of their functioning worrying about a living decay? Who wanted to risk their spark and frame when they could have an easier time within the confines of civilization? Most mechs certainly didn’t.

Jazz was not most mechs.

While a good amount of bots chose to avoid the corruption zones, Jazz chose to venture deeper into them. Others saw them as death traps, but his experiences taught him they held so much more than deactivation.

It wasn’t like he rushed headfirst into danger though. He’d heard plenty of stories about those areas to recognize when to tread lightly, and he knew enough to keep himself out of any real trouble. Pools of black sludge? Don’t fall in. Shadows without solid objects to cast them? Proceed with caution. Sketchy caverns making eerie noises? Approach only with adequate weaponry. Black or purple crystals sprouting from cracks? Avoid touching and definitely don’t eat. And if he encountered anything new? Well, he did what he did best: improvise.

The suns blazed from their celestial peaks, but for all their light the forest might as well have been in the middle of a dark cycle. Only the smallest of rays pierced the darkened crystal leaves like stars on a cloudy night. On its own the dimmed illumination posed a minor inconvenience; coupled with its current location the obscurity created a dangerous setting.

Jazz stalked the shadows of the crystal woods with his audials boosted to the highest sensitivity, ready to catch the faintest motions. Nothing moved nor made a sound, but he tread lightly nonetheless. It never hurt to remain silent in one of “Unicron’s domains.”

Careful pedesteps brought him to the outer edges and closer to the cliffside. Pinpricks of light grew into pools of gold as the dark opaque leaves branched out and thinned above him. He didn’t want to return with an empty subspace, but any hunter worth anything knew when to pull out. There was a reason mechs avoided these places like the Pit, and it sure wasn’t because they were just dark.

When he caught sight of the first inky crystal he’d checked his wards; they’d held strong and he continued onwards. When he saw the second he’d scanned the area and waited; no unsavory surprises made an appearance so he carried on with his little expedition. When he saw the third and fourth ones he knew something was wrong. Only expanding corruption zones had more than two, and this zone had never shown any signs of growing until now. Another large black crystal loomed ahead of him, unnervingly close to the zone’s boundaries. Jazz maintained a healthy distance as he crept around it. Why they decided to suddenly emerge, he didn’t know. He’d have to ask and report—

His optics zeroed in on the faint glow within the looming gemstone.

Scrap.

It was rare to find safety in the smallest of corruption zones, less so when they decided to sprout an army of deadly crystals. However, if anything could be said of those tainted lodestones it was that their appearance forewarned an eventual encroachment of corruption. “Eventual” as in “eventually there’d be a problem, but one that develops gradually, maybe even slowly.” Usually a mech had time to plan and prepare for the coming danger. Usually a mech had more warning before all-pit broke loose. Keyword on “usually.”

The dull flicker in the lodestone’s center exploded in a blaze of light, transforming it into a gleaming beacon. Shadows churned and seethed within the clouded surface. Then said surface started to crack. Shadowy wisps leaked through the fissures and spilled onto the ground like oil.

Some would have frozen in the face of such a predicament, fear locking their joints and fritzing their processors. Some would have scrambled to devise a plan, ploy, anything to help them against their impending doom. Others would have fled blindly. In short, a lot of mechs would have panicked.

Jazz did not panic; instead he leapt into action.

He snatched a metal disk from his subspace and flung it towards the shining gemstone. As it soared closer the simple disk assumed a soft glow of its own, intricate sigils manifesting on both faces with increasing intensity. Jazz wasted no time in transforming and raced away. A wave of pressure shoved him forward, the protective sigils creating a barrier against the swell of foul power. Not unexpected, but a bit too early for his liking. If Wheeljack’s device already struggled to keep the corruption at bay, then Jazz really—

The barrier shattered.

Smokey tendrils surged outwards, pouring through the cracks in seething torrents. Jazz drove faster, ignoring the radiant patterns emerging on his frame. So long as they remained bright, he was in the clear. If he wanted to keep it that way though, he’d have to get well out of range of the corruption zone.

The ground trembled and split into jagged, gaping maws. He raced against the spreading fissures even as they forced him closer to the ledge. Surprisingly, the waves of darkness did not follow in his wake. Unsurprisingly, the growing rifts seemed determined to send him tumbling into a chasm. He faced equally terrible fates to his left and right, but if his calculations were correct they’d both be moot.

He revved his engine and darted forward, hurling himself further ahead. He veered right, launched himself off the edge, and transformed midair. Jazz shot his grappling hook to the opposite cliffside, activating it as it caught a cleft in the rock. Wind whistled in his audials as the device pulled him away from the crumbling rocks. His pedes slammed into stone, and he looked over his shoulder in time to see the entire cliff face collapse into the ravine. The very world itself groaned in protest as the last remnants of the avalanche vanished into the depths. He raised his gaze to the treeline, watching with wide optics as the waves of shadow began to recede. In moments the corruption zone looked as it always did, excluding the wider canyon.

“Huh,” Jazz said to himself.

A ping from his internal comms tore his attention away from the destruction.

::Heya, Prowler. Did you need something?::

::Jazz, I see you’re out of the corruption zone and—::

The earth shook again, and another chunk of stone crashed down. There was no way Prowl could have heard it, but the way his comms went silent made Jazz consider once more how far Prowl could see.

::Jazz.::

::Yes?::

::Is this a bad time?::

::I wouldn’t say that, but I wouldn’t call it a good one either. Just some unexpected trouble with this zone. You’ll probably see it in my report if I can’t meet with you by the end of the cycle.::

::I see . . . and did the corruption seem to flare up right before that trouble?::

Jazz took Prowl’s apparent omniscience in stride. He started pulling himself up as he answered.

::There was something like that, and I can now confirm this zone is an expanding one.::

A pause.

::How long will it take you to get back to the city?::

::Two hours maybe but—::

An alert popped up on his HUD as he reached the cliff edge.

::—actually, make that an hour. Tops.::

::Orion sent you a message as well?::

::Yeah. I don’t suppose he told you what it’s all about?::

::He did not, but I can hazard a few guesses.::

::Try not to lose yourself in all the streams if you end up doing that..::

::Try not to bring any other mountains crashing down.::

::Hey, I’ve never done that. This was just a cliffside and it wasn’t even my fault.::

::Regardless, I’d rather not deal with any helmaches I can prevent.::

::You won’t have to worry about that on my account.::

::I’ll hold you to it.::

Another pause.

::You should avoid taking your regular route back, or at the very least, avoid the caverns.::

::Got it. I’ll see you soon then, Prowler.::

Jazz flicked his wrist and freed the grappling hook from the rock cleft, catching it midair as it arced towards him. He wound the cable into a tight loop and stowed it at his hip. Behind him the zone looked like it always did, any trace of the flagrant corruption hidden within the tainted forest. He didn’t wait to see if anything else happened though. Orion needed to see him and Prowl. Urgently.

If he wanted more answers there’d be no better place to find some than with Prowl himself. And besides, maybe Orion could shed some light on this mystery too.

[mraprilfools]

Part 1

Previously on DwtRD

NOW WE STEP ONTO OUR FOURTH FORAY! AND OF ALL THE CHOICES YOU COULD MAKE, YOU WANT TO RETURN TO HELL?! I CANNOT TELL IF YOU ARE A WOMAN AFTER MY OWN HEART OR A FOOL. MAYBE BOTH?

TONIGHT WE WELCOME A VERY SPECIAL GUEST, A TEARFUL REUNION TO BE SURE! WHY IT TICKLES THE VERY COCKLES OF WHAT REMAINS OF MY SHRIVELED LITTLE HEART. ENJOY!

There was an angry roar from each of the three portals, but the worst came from the middle. The rushing of hot air from that location was the most intense and you could feel it against your skin as you drew close. The gnarled dark green rings that surrounded the portal wavered as you drew close. You spared Alastor only a singular glance and pushed your head inside.

It was empty.

The nothingness of barren red clay stretched on for miles, and miles, and smiles. An empty sky hovered above you. A bizarre pentagram stretched across, an inky black moon, and the only sign that Heaven was in some way connected to this world. Billowing clouds surround a pale purple orb. It was distinctly out of place when the rest of the world was red, nothing but red as far as the eye could see.

You feel as though you’d wander this world forever if you kept going until you spotted a singular figure curled up upon himself in the red clay. Head buried into his knees, but with bright golden hair. The sight of him caused a wild stirring in your chest, and for tears to immediately burn from your eyes. With uneven steps, you pushed yourself forward even when your limbs felt like they were becoming jelly from beneath you.

The man pulled his face free from the nest of his knees, with sky-blue eyes staring at you in wide-eyed wonderment.

“Mother…?” The word was uttered with such fragility. Long golden hair spilled from the man’s shoulders as he rose. He may be your little boy, but he still towered over you. You allowed him to embrace you, those thick arms like tree branches tight around your waist, tears soaking your shoulder where he buried his face. The repressed wailing stuttered between gasps of air as he fought to contain himself.

“I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry! Please… I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

You quickly wrapped your arms around the man, cradling the back of his head as tenderly as you had when he was but a child. Stroking his hair, rocking your body left and right as you hummed a lullaby. Gradually the sniffling and sobbing faded until his weight became heavy in your arms. But it was a comforting weight, something you’d not known since you entered the show.

“Are you all alone here?” You asked.

The man pulled away, brushing his rough palm across his eyes to banish the tears that still lingered. “No… Lucifer and his wife are here. And these two strange creatures are nothing like what father named. They both disappeared into the earth though.”

What was this?

A flashback?

“Alastor?” You tried calling for the host of The Show. Like a butler coming when he was called, he came to stand beside you with the most pleased smile.

“Yes, my dear?” He bent into an exaggerated bow, his ears twitching with satisfaction.

“What is this? Why are you showing me all of this?!”

“To remind you, mercy is unnecessary for this world my Love.” Alastor chuckled, affection flashing through those squinted crimson eyes for the briefest moment.

“Mother…? Who are you talking to?” The golden-haired child spoke.

The name of the child touched the tip of your tongue. The second sinner to reach Hell.

“Cain...”

The sound of his name brought a light to his face and fresh tears. A word that had since become a curse, but it was the beloved name of your firstborn. Who had taken the life of your darling Abel?

“There’s nothing quite like a Mother’s love… is there?” Alastor began, even if he wasn’t asked. “Unconditional, patient, willing to bear all the cruelty and ugliness of this world to shelter her unworthy son. Now… the man who took him away from you forever is within reach. Don’t you want to seek revenge?”

[divine-nonchalance]

III

Summer Solstice . June 21

We now celebrate the third great spiritual and psychic event of the esoteric year, the initiation cycle, at the heart of which stands the Summer Solstice.

Through teachings and spiritual and intellectual contemplation, we commemorate the real events of initiations taking place somewhere on Earth at this time.

It is a profoundly inspiring thought, one that each of us should carry as the most precious ideal: that anyone belonging to the outer circle of this mystical fellowship can, if they so choose, one day step from the outer circle into an inner one, and from there into a circle even closer to the center—and so on—until the disciple, by overcoming the ego and expanding their consciousness, eventually reaches the center. From there, through their own will and actions, they are seized by the life currents leading to initiation, guiding them on the mystical pilgrimage, the esoteric round of experience, from which they return because they willingly and consciously renounce what is rightfully theirs, choosing to remain in the world to serve as one of the stones in the protective wall around humanity.

You will recall that the mystical year has four seasonal points, and these four seasons with their cycle symbolize the four main events of initiatory progress.

First, the Winter Solstice, also called the Great Birth, where the disciple awakens the divine within and, at least for a time, becomes one with it in consciousness and feeling—a birth that truly represents the birth of the inner Buddha, born from spiritual, solar glory, or the birth of the mystical Christ.

Second comes the Spring Equinox, the period or event of esoteric youth, where the aspirant, in the full vigor of the victory gained during the Winter Solstice and with the marvelous inner strength and power attained, faces—except for one—the greatest temptation known to humanity and overcomes it. This event can be called the Great Temptation. The Spring Equinox is particularly associated with the Avatars, who form one of the branches of activity—a truly divine branch—of the Hierarchy of Compassion and Glory, though Avatars, except for their human component, stand outside the circle of temptation.

Third comes the event of the Summer Solstice. During this time, the neophyte or aspirant must face the greatest temptation known to humanity, as hinted earlier, and successfully overcome it. If they triumph, which means renouncing every opportunity for personal advancement to become one of the saviors of the world, they henceforth take their place as a stone in the protective wall. Thereafter, they dedicate their life—perhaps for eons—to serving the world without a thought of reward or personal progress, spiritually sacrificing themselves for all that lives. For this reason, the initiation at this time is called the Great Renunciation.

Finally, the fourth and last period of the mystical year is the Autumn Equinox, perhaps the most sublime but not quite as sacred as the initiation we now celebrate. During the Autumn Equinox, the neophyte or aspirant irrevocably passes through the gates of death and does not return to humanity. One line of this activity, though sublime and spiritual, does not equal the path of the Hierarchy of Glory and Compassion and is followed by the Pratyeka Buddhas. Eons will pass before these Pratyeka Buddhas awaken again to resume their evolutionary journey, the evolutionary pilgrimage.

The Autumn Equinox is also closely connected with the exploration of the many diverse and intricate mysteries related to death, undertaken during the rites and trials of the neophyte. For this and other reasons, it has been called the Great Passing.

Children of the Sun and descendants of the Stars! Have you ever wondered why the stars sparkle in the purple dome of the night? Why our Sun shines with ceaseless brilliance, radiating its own substance of light, life, and energy for countless eons? And why, on the other hand, vast expanses and realms of nature seem to be sunk in cold, crystalline rigidity: sleeping, slumbering, and apparently motionless, though in truth they are permeated everywhere—down to the smallest atom—by the all-pervading life and consciousness of the Boundless? Have you ever asked why these two great opposites exist in the manifested universe—on one side, light, motion, activity, and force, manifestations of the divine and spiritual energies, and on the other, relative immobility, rigidity, crystalline slumber, and worlds of cold, spiritual sleep?

If you have not yet asked these questions, you are not truly awake. Your spiritual soul is not yet consciously stirring within you, and you sleep and slumber. Animals do not ask such questions, for they live within the confining limits of their restricted consciousness—a perceptual consciousness that responds only to sensory impressions, lacking the divine fire of self-conscious thought and the curious intellect, that thirst for light and knowledge which marks humanity as children of the Sun and descendants of the starry race.

Spirit on one side, matter on the other: conscious life on one side, relative immobility and dormant consciousness on the other. When we consider the tenfold nature and its activities, we can imagine the situation as follows: a vast army of Sons of Light acting upon the dark, slumbering matter. The Sons of Light exist in their embodiments between two poles, both of which appear to our current human consciousness as unfathomable realms of being. What are these two poles? One is the pole of matter, and the other is the pole of spirit, which, due to its incomprehensible brilliance and power, so far surpasses our intellectual comprehension and highest imagination that it appears as unfathomable to us as the lower pole seems dark and incomprehensible.

The reason nature appears divided to our human mind is that we see, on one side, the hosts of light and, on the other, the hosts of matter, yet both are essentially one. The difference is that the hosts of light consist of beings that have progressed more or less toward the pole of spirit, while the hosts of darkness are governed by the Māmo-Chohans, just as the light side is ruled by the Hierarchies of Glory. The latter consist of Dhyāni-Chohans in ever-increasing degrees of splendor, rising along the ladder of life far beyond the reach of our highest vision, no matter how far we extend it upward. These two—the dark side of nature and its light side—are the two eternal paths, eternal because they are nature itself. We can call the Hierarchies of Compassion the upper or light side and the Hierarchies of Matter the lower, dark side; yet both sides evolve in perpetual upward progress. Ultimately, they are but two manifestations of life, for at their core, the two are one.

As the great and wise seer of the distant East, Lao-tse, said when speaking of the Tao:

"Its upper part is not bright, and its lower part is not dark. Ceaselessly active, it cannot be named; yet from activity, it returns to spiritual emptiness. We may call it the form of the formless, the image of the unimaginable, the flowing and indeterminate [yet it is the eternal]. Approach it, and you cannot see its face; follow it, and you cannot see its back..."

"Without a name by which it can rightly be called, it is the origin of the celestial and material spheres. When given a name, people call it the eternal Mother of all things. Only those free from earthly passions can understand its divine essence. Those whose minds are clouded and blinded by passion can see only its outer form. Yet these two, the spiritual and the material, though we give them different names, are in their origin one and the same. This unity is a wondrous mystery, the mystery of mysteries. To understand these mysteries is the gateway to all initiation."

Children of the Sun, descendants of the Stars! Are you like the blind, unreasoning animal, lacking divine curiosity for wisdom, knowledge, and love? Or will you become like the sages and seers of the ages, who see in everything around them, in every smallest and greatest thing or event, a key to a cosmic riddle?

Reflect on this and pause for a moment on this thought.

When you see the sparkling celestial bodies above and contemplate our glorious day-star, which we call Father Sun, has it never occurred to you that these sparkling stars are manifestations of the Hierarchy of Compassion, bringing light, life, love, and wisdom into the dark realms of nature’s material spheres? Truly, it is so!

Every sun we perceive in the midnight sky, every human being, every Dhyāni-Chohan whose presence we may instinctively feel, is not only a being evolving and progressing—especially in the case of the stars and gods—but also a being motivated by celestial love and divine wisdom, pausing or moving slowly on their path, in accordance with their karmic forces, to help the countless hosts of less advanced beings trailing behind.

Thus, a star—such as our Sun, for example—is not only a god developing its divine, spiritual, intellectual, psychic, and astral aspects but also, as it were, bends down from its celestial throne to appear in our material realms, helping us, giving us light, and urging us upward.

These are not empty words or poetic inventions; they are profoundly inspiring truths. All around us, nature testifies to law, order, and regularity; to a chain of successive events as beings and things are carried through the ages in the mighty riverbed of life currents. All this is the work of the Hierarchy of Glory and Compassion, of which we, in our humble way on this Earth, form the outermost circle or sphere. The same impulse that moves the gods, the Silent Watchers, and the starry beings to help those less advanced also moves the hearts of the Buddhas of Compassion, the Masters of Wisdom and Peace, and the hearts of the Chelas who take up the initiation of the Great Renunciation, reenacting in our human realm an event that occurs on a loftier scale among the gods. An Avatar is merely a special case of this general rule, with the Buddhas being the nobler and more exalted examples.

Little do people know of the immense love and divine impulses of compassion that govern the souls of those who undertake the Great Renunciation, perhaps for eons giving up any hope of personal evolutionary progress to remain on Earth and help their fellow beings and serve the world. Unrecognized, without thanks, always silent, always compassionate, always filled with holy peace, they work ceaselessly, watching others pass by as the slow-flowing life currents move endlessly onward.

They stand as pillars of light, these great and noble ones. Though they know they will one day receive their reward—a reward beyond human conception—they remain here through the ages, without thought of reward, enduring, enduring, enduring.

The people of the world have no knowledge of the strong hands and mighty wills that hold back certain cosmic forces and elements to prevent them from destroying humanity—forces and elements summoned by humans through their selfish feelings and thoughts in ignorant folly and blind stubbornness, unaware of their actions.

Every man and woman who performs a generous, selfless, and compassionate act is, to that extent, a member of the Hierarchy of Compassion and Glory. Every man and woman who commits a selfish, evil, or ignoble act takes a step backward and inevitably hinders the progress of their fellow beings to a corresponding degree, for we are all inseparably woven into a fabric of life, a living organic unity.

How glorious are those whose foreheads shine with the eternal light, the light of everlasting peace, the light of wisdom, and the radiance of immortal love! They grow and grow quickly, spurred by the radiant light streaming from the depths of their spiritual being. How blessed is their peace, how inexpressibly great their happiness, how serene, how majestic they appear! What marvelous strength they gain through every such noble thought, every such noble deed!

Men and women who embody this spirit of selfless devotion, however slight, prepare themselves for a future where they will stand at the gate and knock, seeking and demanding the initiation of the Great Renunciation. They will claim it with the right inherent in embryonic gods. And then they will find their place in the Hierarchy of Compassion and Glory as self-conscious workers.

In this context, the Master Lao-tse, speaking of the Tao, said that both the divine essence of the cosmic organism and the timeless radiance in the aspirant’s heart are one:

The whole world of humanity will eagerly gather around the one who holds the mighty form and power of the Tao within. They will come to him and suffer no harm, but find rest, peace, equanimity, and wisdom.

Speaking again of the practical ethics practiced by one who has already undertaken the Great Renunciation and passed through the sacred rites, the great Chinese Master continues:

He who is empty will have fullness; he who is exhausted will be restored; he who has little will have everything; he who thinks he has much will go astray. Therefore, the Sage embraces the cosmic unity in thought and becomes a model for all under heaven. Free from self-conceit, he shines forth; free from self-assertion, he is distinguished; free from self-glorification, he is glorified; free from self-exaltation, he rises above all. Because he never contends with others, no one in the world contends with him.

And further, the same Sage and Seer taught in his paradoxes:

"Therefore, the Sage who wishes to stand above the people must, with his words, place himself below them. If he wishes to be nobler than the masses, he must humbly place himself behind them and serve them. Thus, though he takes his natural place above them, the people do not feel his superiority or resent it. Therefore, all humanity delights in exalting him and does not tire of him."

"The Sage expects no recognition for his deeds. He earns merit but does not claim it... I possess three precious things that I hold fast and treasure above all: the first is kindness, the second is frugality, and the third is true humility. They keep me from exalting myself above others. Be kind, and you can be bold. Be frugal, and you can be abundantly generous. Do not place yourself above others, and you will naturally become a leader among humanity."

But nowadays, people cast aside kindness and seek to be harsh. They despise frugality and value excess. They reject true humility and aim only to be first. Therefore, they will perish.

It must not be assumed for a moment that the Great Renunciation requires abandoning even a single part of the manifested universe so that the neophyte or aspirant can devote themselves exclusively to walking the path of light. That alone would be a subtle form of spiritual selfishness, an attitude that—whatever people may say—dominates the path of the Pratyeka Buddhas. A neophyte or Chela who wishes to pass through even the first gate of initiation leading to the Great Renunciation must understand that, rather than leaving everything behind, they must remain in the world to serve all life and being more and more as they grow greater, stronger, wiser, and more sublime.

The slightest hint of a personal desire for individual progress will firmly close the gate to them, for the innermost foundation of this initiation is complete self-denial. The undertaking is indeed a monumental task, for the personal nature must not only be purified but completely transformed, as far as is compatible with life in these realms, to become a channel, carrier, or mediator between all that is above the neophyte and all that is below or lesser than them.

Thus, every fiber of their being must be tested before they can muster the courage to enter the greater trials, which will first lead them into the darkness of the underworld regions—for they must succeed or fail. Later, when their utterly pure heart and unyielding will have safely guided them from those regions, they must be tested in the loftier spheres, so that no longing for more light for themselves or for communion with the deities for their own sake can sway them from their self-chosen path.

The path of the Pratyeka Buddha is, in the end, relatively easy compared to the path of one who has chosen the Great Renunciation. But oh, how inexpressibly beautiful and sublime is the reward that awaits the latter in the distant future, when, their work completed, they break free like a butterfly from its chrysalis and soar into the surrounding ether where the gods dwell, becoming one with them as a fully conscious collaborator in the cosmic work.

Yet eons will pass before this state is reached. Countless eons must be spent in our imperfect, often strife- and pain-filled world. But in the heart of one who has undertaken the Great Renunciation, there is a joy beyond all understanding—the joy of helping others climb the ladder of life, guiding and uplifting them. Power will come to them; abilities only partially recognized or perhaps unknown will develop within them—they gain knowledge of mysteries they scarcely suspected, if at all, in earlier stages of their development. This is because, as they progress, they become an ever more perfect, accomplished, and self-conscious mediator of the wisdom and love of the hierarchies above, which can now work through them as a willing, self-sacrificing, joyful, strong, and fully capable instrument.

For them, there is no longer a bitter apple that turns to ashes in the mouth. Sorrow and pain, as humans know them, are gone. They have taken the world’s great sorrow and pain as their own; but—oh wondrous paradox—the inexpressible peace and bliss that are theirs, because they are utterly selfless helpers, transform this sorrow and pain into greater light and the peace of glory above and within them. They become one with universal nature and instinctively work with it in all its activities. Thus, nature recognizes them as its master and obeys them.

Those who walk the path of the Great Renunciation have many degrees: first, the most sublime, the gods themselves, who, as it were, bend down from their celestial thrones to commune with slightly less evolved beings of the same hierarchy. Then there are countless lower grades: the Buddhas of Compassion, the Masters of Wisdom and Peace, the high Chelas, the Chelas of lower grades, and even ordinary men and women who feel the surging power of the mighty fire of compassionate love, whose flame, at least temporarily, fills their hearts. Celestial Buddhas, Dhyāni-Buddhas, Mānuṣya-Buddhas, Bodhisattvas, Masters, Chelas, lesser Chelas, and great and noble men and women—this, in brief, is the ladder of beings forming the Order of Compassion.

As the Chela progresses toward Mastery, the Master becomes a Bodhisattva, and the Bodhisattva evolves into a Buddha, and so forth, the realization grows in their consciousness that every individual in this Hierarchy of Compassion and Glory is a bearer or mediator of a divine being working through them as its human channel. In the seventh initiation—though no more can be said here about this final and greatest rite—the initiate stands face to face with this inspiring and overshadowing divine being, perhaps for a fleeting moment, or for months, or even years.

It must not be assumed that the Great Renunciation precludes further initiations. On the contrary, it entails dedicating oneself to a series of ever more sublime initiations, solely to become more capable of transmitting divine light to those less advanced, and for that purpose alone.

The Great Renunciation is also an initiation with many degrees. The Silent Watcher, at any level, is the most sublime example and the highest model of a being who sits at the threshold of absolute knowledge and inexpressible peace yet does not enter, pausing before the final and greatest sanctuary so that those less advanced may have a connection to the Highest.

Each higher degree entered during the long initiatory cycle before becoming a Bodhisattva is the awakening of a new level of consciousness in the neophyte, resulting in a sublime, individual connection with the various powers, forces, and entities belonging to each of these levels as they are reached. Initiation does not mean adding something to the growing and expanding consciousness of the neophyte, as one adds stone to stone in building a wall. Rather, each step in initiation represents an acceleration of the evolutionary process.

In other words, initiation always means bringing forth or manifesting into activity what is already present within the individual.

This idea is so important that I ask you to reflect deeply upon it. You will immediately see that an initiation cannot occur merely upon request or petition and that it is utterly impossible for an unprepared person to successfully complete the rites. Initiating an animal, even into the lowest degree, would be spiritually, intellectually, psychologically, and physically impossible, simply because the corresponding inner parts of its constitution are not yet coordinated under the guidance and control of a self-conscious being, as is the case with humans.

This crucial and fundamental fact of natural aptitude underpins the entire structure of the ethical teachings given by the great Masters of the past to their disciples. The Mysteries require training—not by the decree of any Master, but because it is an unyielding law of nature. A person must prove themselves worthy, not only worthy but ready, and not only ready but capable, before their knock at the gate of the Holy of Holies can even be heard. And do not forget that this “knocking” is silent and without gesture, for it is an intense and resolute act of will, coupled with an expansion of consciousness.

How fit would a person be to enter the dreadful regions of the underworld and face the often dangerous inhabitants of those realms if they cannot even master their emotional nature, successfully control their willful activities, or understand the complex workings of their own consciousness?

And again, how could a person safely traverse the loftier realms of the universe, with their manifold dangers and subtle temptations for the unprepared, if they have not already attained a strong will and expanded consciousness to enter those realms? It is as impossible as entrusting an animal with overseeing a chemical laboratory or a power plant, or expecting it to compose an oratorio or write a treatise on cosmic philosophy that profoundly and convincingly influences human thought.

Yet hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions, of people today are almost ready and capable of undertaking the first initiatory trials. However, they are so entangled in the web of material thinking that they not only know nothing of these wondrous truths and powers latent or hidden within their nature but would also lack the will to attempt the endeavor, even if they were aware of the glorious possibilities to which they have a natural right. Their own ignorance and inertia hinder their progress, and it is part of our duty to awaken the souls of our fellow beings and open the gates of their hearts to the sublime truths of nature.

I would like to add, in passing, that daily life is the greatest and simplest preparation for the various degrees of initiation. Here, every person can prove what they are and what lies within them. Here, they can strengthen their character, awaken their will, expand their understanding, and broaden their heart’s life.

The Masters judge—or rather, test—a beginner, a neophyte taking their first steps, by how they act in daily life and respond to the temptations and trials it presents. I repeat, these statements are not empty words of dry theory but pure truth. You will understand this immediately if you consider that life is the great school and that all initiations, without a single exception, are merely higher stages or the attainment of higher classes in the school of life—earthly and cosmic life.

Consider the composite nature of the human constitution, which includes the following principles or main components:

First, a divine being derived from a star, the stellar origin of the individual, and each individual has their own. Then follows a monadic essence of an intellectual nature, called a Mānasaputra, derived from the Sun. Third, a psycho-emotional instrument, commonly called the human soul or monad, derived from the lunar chain. And fourth, a psycho-vital astral instrument or body, derived from our own globe, Earth.

Above and permeating all these components is a flameless fire of fundamental consciousness, which we can generalize as a child of the Boundless, whose abodes are the realms of the limitless spaces of space. This is the individual’s own ladder of life. And a person should earnestly, constantly, and unceasingly strive, at every moment of their life, to raise their consciousness along this ladder from and out of the body, to place it decisively over the psycho-mental-lunar apparatus, which they should overcome and master. And from there, higher still, to become one with the mānasaputric essence within, then, in the far distant future, to rise into something even more immeasurable and sublime: the divine monad, whose realm of consciousness spans the universe we call the Galaxy or Milky Way. And later, in future eons, they must rise higher and ever higher.

Thus, we are truly born of the Moon, children of the Sun, descendants of the Stars, and heirs of the cosmic spaces; for we are space itself, and it is us, for we and the Boundless are, in essence, not two, but one.

With these few remarks, I have endeavored, through hints and suggestions, to give you some clear and specific concepts about the character and scope of the things hidden behind the esoteric term “Initiation of the Great Renunciation.”

It, too, has its inexpressibly beautiful rewards, and its “end” is the heart of the universe. But why do I say its “end”? That is merely a figure of speech, an expression, for the heart of the universe is truly boundless infinity and limitless divine depth.

Progress is therefore endless.

The light grows ever stronger as one advances on the path. The distant peaks that the Chela must climb, which they regard as the loftiest summits of the mystical East, reveal, once reached and stood upon, that immeasurable distances remain to be traversed: that there are realms so grand and sublime that even the gods have not attained them.

Source:

G. de Purucker - Die vier heiligen Jahreszeiten, Die wirkliche Bedeutung der Einweihung

Translated by Grok

[nevermatchandscpsradadventures]

🚨!!CROSSOVER LINK ALERT!!🚨

And thus, we have another crossover Link, this one being the Hero of the Codex - aka, my Pokémon crossover Link!

Codex was born into a very big family, more specifically the Joy family. As a result, most of his family members, from his mother to his sisters to his aunts and cousins, are Nurse Joys that work in various Pokémon centers all over. It's a bit tough to tell at first glance, but his skills in taking care of Pokémon of all kinds and his strawberry blond hair that gets incredibly curly if he doesn't straighten it on a regular basis are the easiest indicators.

On his fourth birthday, he was gifted a Happiny egg. When it hatched, it was revealed the Happiny was a shiny. Because of these factors, Codex decided to name her Lucky, and they formed a quick and strong bond, and she became his only friend for years, considering other kids thought him to be weird and such, not to mention how busy most of his family is. Soon before his adventure, though, he was given a second Pokémon, an Audino. He wasn't thrilled, to say the least, because he was perfectly content with just having a Happiny, thank you very much. Still, he named the Audino Dolores and took her along with him on his journey, eventually taking a liking to her (although it took some time).

Throughout his adventure, Codex caught and befriended more Pokémon. The first one he actually caught was an Eevee, and although he couldn't come up with a good name for him at first, he named him Sol once he evolved into an Espeon. After getting blasted off of Death Mountain (an actual mountain this time) by Team Swine, Codex met a Drampa who caught him and, with Lucky and Dolores's help, tended to his injuries; Codex wound up naming him Wormy, and he joined the party. At another point, Codex found a Lapras that was being forced to carry supplies for Team Swine, so he freed her, and when she wouldn't stop following him around, he caved and took her in, naming her Nessie. Finally, there's the Trevenant that had attacked Codex when he was traveling through the Kokor Forest, and when Codex realized that the Trevenant was injured with a withering branch, he sent Lucky to tend to him, and the Trevenant soon joined the party and was named Deku. Of course, by now, Lucky is a Blissey, having become a Chansey during Codex's adventure and later becoming a Blissey. She's rarely ever in her Pokeball, which tells you how close the two of them are.

At the beginning of his adventure, Codex met Zelda, and they quickly became rivals after a battle, his Happiny and Audino vs. her Ralts and Shinx. They kept encountering each other, and although they insist they're still rivals, they're less hostile with each other, if nothing else. Another thing to note is that they both have crushes on the other, but they're both completely oblivious about it. Funny how it works like that.

Codex is a bit shy when you first meet him, but he's friendly once one gets to know him. He rarely speaks out loud, except when talking to his Pokémon, so it's notable when he does speak out loud to a person. He's kind almost to a fault, and he's very caring and nurturing, although his medical expertise only extends to Pokémon (and similar creatures), so if you've got some kind of injury and ask him to help take care of it, expect him to go about it like a veterinarian might with a pesky cat. He won't hesitate to put a cone on you if necessary. None of this is to say he's always docile and well-behaved, of course; he's competitive in battle, his trash talk is surprisingly effective, he occasionally acts out for attention if desperate enough (understandable given how busy most of his family is), and he may or may not have eaten literal garbage on live television (don't tell his mom).

[sleepyfan-blog]

Loss

Author's note: this is the fourth installment in Cedric's story. Prev. Next.

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets

Warnings: character death, canon-typical violence, wounds,

Summary: Fighting against the Tau takes an unexpected turn.

Another mission, another planet besieged by foul xenos. This world was a miserable ball of mud and rain, from what Cedric could tell, and he'd been on this world for several weeks, working alongside his brothers to rout out the blue bastards who had tried to claim this imperial world For the greater good. Bastards were expansionists and haughty bastards. They preferred to hide behind their turrets and guns like the cowards they were, fleeing whenever they could when in close-quarters combat. The blue bastards were taking pains not to target the civilian population as much as possible - which was... Surprising, given the fact that the other xenos that Cedric had fought against had no problems targeting civilians to try and bait out either members of the Astra Militarum or Astartes... In addition to creating truly gruesome and awful traps using said civilians as either bait, part of the trap, or oftentimes both.

Cedric would count that as a blessing from the god-emperor, and knew better than to question such a thing, as that could easily change. He dodged another hail of Lazer-fire, pausing for a moment behind the tree he had taken cover behind to check in on his brothers - Dovo was leading the charge, bolter in one hand, tower shield in the other to give himself and Dessias a bit of cover. His red-headed brother was right behind their sergeant, providing return fire, targeting the joints of the mechs that the blue bastards favored using in battle. Rodron had climbed one of the taller trees and was straddling one of the sturdiest branches, laying across it as he steadied his lasrifle, getting a bead on the enemy leader to fire on them when a good opportunity presented itself. Sevros and Angrald were also charging the enemy line, bolters up and firing tactically at their cowardly enemy. 

His five brothers were using their darkly painted armor and the density of the trees, alongside the deep shadows that the near constant rain provided them to keep the xenos off balance as to just where they were. Cedric, as an Apothecary, was in primarily white painted armor and stood out against the dark back-drop... Which meant that he drew the most fire. On the other hand, he made for a fantastic distraction, which Cedric was doing his best to provide as his brothers closed the distance between themselves and the enemy, as they were all primarily short-ranged fighters, though all of them were proficient with both bolters and the laser-based weaponry of the Imperium. 

The blue bastards had noticed that the six of them were encroaching on them - but as the local detachment of the Astra Militarum kept firing at them from the other direction, they were pincered on two fronts. The blue fuckers were the most prone to cutting and fleeing like the cowards they were, when the tide of battle turned against them, and, God Emperor willing, they would do so again. This was the six of theirs second mission as fully fledged new members of the Black Templars, and while there were older brothers providing air support and available for assistance if needed, this was a mission that they should be able to complete on their own.

Dovo, Dessias, Sevros and Angrald closed with several of the Blue bastards, the latter two switching from bolter to power sword as Dovo and Dessias provided supportive fire to keep the blue bastards from targeting them while they switched their weapons. Cedric rushed to follow his brothers into melee battle, Rodron providing them with excellent sniper cover. Rodron managed to topple their largest mechs by several well placed shots to the joints of the mech, causing several of the blue fuckers to panic. 

"FOR THE EMPEROR! FOR THE IMPERIUM!" Sevros roared as he lunged forward with his power-sword, the heavy two-handed blow cutting through the nearest enemy's armor as if it didn't exist, causing the xeno to choke on their own blood, staggering and sagging forward on the blade.

"FOR THE EMPEROR!" Angrald, Sevros and Dovo shouted back in unison, going after the nearest filthy xenos as all four of them began to cut their way through the enemy forces.

Cedric raced to join his brothers, switching from bolter to power-sword as well, neatly decapitating a blue xenos who had tried to sneak up on Dovo from the side "FOR THE EMPEROR!"

~

The five of them cut their way through Tau forces as the hours blended into days, with Rodron providing sniper fire and calling out changes in battle - like when another giant xenos mech tried to stomp on them - or when a group of xenos had pretended to be shot dead by the Astra Militarum detachment who were coming closer to melee combat at a slower pace than the small group of Astartes. Each of them had taken some minor damage - a few cuts and bruises here and there, but their armor had held up well, and their own abilities to duck and dodge the worst of the attempted strikes against them.

The blue fuckers were in full retreat, and Dovo had given the order to "Keep up the pressure - we don't want these xenos to think that just because they're tucking tail and running, it means that we'll just let them run away to fight another day uncontested."

"Yes sir!" Cedric, Angrald, Sevros and Dessias acknowledged.

A two-heartbeat later and Rodron called out over vox "Understood, sarge. I see a blue ship headed your way. It's about a klik out and it's got heavy weaponry of some kind on it. You should probably get to cover as I think they're going to target you if you're on open ground."

"Good spot, Roddie. You heard our sniper, fall back to the treeline for cover." Dovo ordered.

Some of the more brave - or stupid - Blues chased them all the way back to the treeline, only to be either cut down by Cedric or one of his melee focused brothers, or shot down by Rodron. 

The five of them barely made it in time, as the alien spacecraft roared overhead, weapons blasting down at them. Cedric rushed deeper into the woods for cover, realizing that he was holding his breath, turning to do a headcount after the roar of the ship's engines died - having landed to acquire their surviving ground forces. 

Dovo had already turned around, visor tilted in the direction of the enemy spacecraft, arms crossed over his chest, likely trying to come up with ways to either neutralize the ship or acquire it for their own purposes. Xeno technology was heresy to use long-term, but to use it against the xenos themselves in battle was allowed - so long as one properly repented to the chaplain later.  Angrald was being helped up to his feet by Dessias, having collided with the base of the tree accidentally during his combat roll. Rodron was still up in the tree, clearly watching the xenos through his scope and taking pot-shots at them to keep up the pressure. and Sevros-

...

Where was Sevros? Astartes did not feel fear. Astartes did not feel fear. And because Astartes did not feel fear, Cedric's breathing didn't become much faster as he did another two head-counts, coming up with one person short of their full squad. Sevros much just have rolled into a particularly thick and thorny bush (again) and needed assistance in wrenching his free of the local flora...

Sevros crawled toward them on his hands, his back a bloodied and burned mess, his legs limp as he dragged himself forward. Cedric Did Not feel panic as he rushed over to his brother's side, Dessias and Angrald helping him carry their injured brother further from where the xenos were frantically trying to pile into their ship. He immediately felt himself slide into a state of forced calm as his hands and mouth went into autopilot, ordering Angrald to help him remove the destroyed remains of Sevros' backback and armor. He began to clean and dress Sevros' extensive wounds - the other had taken a round that could have felled a Dreadnaught to the back, it was a miracle that he was alive, much less able to move at all. HE silently muttered a prayer that the god-emperor would see fit to allow Sevros to retain his ability to walk once he healed.

Cedric was wholly focused on his injured patient, and wasn't terribly surprised when the rest of his squad refocused on Other Things. His main job was to keep his brothers alive and intact enough to keep on fighting, which he was desperately trying to do. Sevros' breathing was getting shallower. He swallowed back a wave of Unnecessary Emotion as he continued to work diligently on patching up Sevros as best as he could. They'd trained together since first becoming aspirants and had survived so much. Cedric had no plans on losing his brother on some wet muddy rock to xenos. 

"Cedric." A voice called out.

He had to keep working on Sevros. The other's breathing was undetectable, but that didnt mean much. He was just sleeping, having passed out from the pain. He was going to be fine. Cedric was going to make sure of that.

"Cedric!" The same voice called out, much louder and much closer.

"Unless you are actively dying, please wait your turn to be patched up. I... I'm working on Sev right now." Cedric snapped back, not bothering to look up at whoever was talking to him. Maybe another stim shot, to keep Sevros' awake? The shcock of a wound like this could kill if it went to far.

"BROTHER-APOTHECARY CEDRIC!" The voice... No, Dovo, bellowed directly into his ear, startling the young medic to the point he nearly swung at him with a fist. "He... He's gone. You did your best, but a wound like that... Isn't survivable outside of a dreadnaught. You know that, as well as I do."

"But... But there's... There's got to be something in my pack to help him... I've just... I just need to find it." Cedric protested, his eyes stinging and blurry. He was rapidly blinking, trying to clear his eyes. 

"His hearts have stopped, and he hasn't breathed in minutes. That wound was too much for him. Would've been too much for any of us. The xenos have fucked off world. We need to report back to the mortal military commander, then we'll take him back to the ship for funerary rites." Dovo pointed out, his voice calm and even, the bastard "Are you going to make me order you to leave him?"

"... I'll need to take his gene-seed, since I've got... I've got the time. It's protocol." Cedric's mouth said. Internally he could hear something, someone screaming. He swallowed down the noise as his blood covered gauntlets flipped him over. Sevros' eyes were still open, but the light of life had left them. 

"... Right. Rodron, Dessias help Cedric recover the gene-seed and guard his body. Angrald, you're coming with me to talk to the mortals." Dovo ordered before leaving with Angrald.

Cedric's hands performed the surgery that he'd only seen done a handful of times and participated in twice, on much older brothers who had fallen in battle against the forces against the Imperium. Why was it so different now? He made sure that his hands did not shake until after the gene-seed was removed and safely placed in the stasis jar and nestled securely in his pack. He closed Sevros' eyes and stitched up the wound he'd made. Numbness and Emotions He Shouldn't Be Feeling battling for dominance inside of him.

[thewingedbaron]

BG3 Fic Feb Day Four!

Day Four: Camp Chores

By the fourth day together, camp was beginning to run smoothly. Wyll set a watch every day, ensuring that none of the goblin’s scouting parties accidentally found their way into camp. Karlach was all too happy to assist with keeping watch, though privately she spent more time caring for her teddy bear, Clyde, than keeping an eye out for trouble. As she put it, when trouble found them, she would be ready. 

Gale had settled in quickly as the camp’s cook. After the disaster of Shadowheart’s half hearted attempt on the first night, the wizard of waterdeep produced an apron from his tent, the rest of the party was still unsure as to where exactly it had come from, and set about preparing whatever Alyss managed to catch out in the surroundings woods. Thankfully, Alyss was almost as good at hunting animals as she was bounties, so more often than not there was plenty to go around. 

For her part, Shadowheart busied herself about the camp setting up new barriers of thistle and heavy bush. Alyss had shown her how to rearrange the surrounding shrubs to help disguise the camp from outside view, and the cleric of shadows had taken to the skill almost immediately. She seemed to delight in finding new methods to hide them all from view. That, or she just enjoyed being close to the camp’s ranger leader, as Astarion claimed. It was hard to ignore the snuck glances, and occasional straight on staring that neither side seemed to notice. Astarion had started a betting pool on the second night. Currently, Wyll was winning. 

Lae’zel provided the background music to their little camp. She could often be found practicing strikes on a mock Illithid that she had created out of roots and branches. The dull thud, thud, thud, could be heard at all hours about the camp. Wyll had joined her a number of times, as well as Karlach. Both were apt students as Lae’zel explained the best ways to kill a ghaik quickly to avoid their psychic attacks. When she wasn’t practicing, Lae’zel was preparing. Mending armor, sharpening blades, Lae’zel was sure that she would be ready for whatever they met on the road. With a few sweet words, and the promise of a new dagger, she agreed to help with the camp’s weapons as well. Soon the grinding wheel could be heard near constantly, much to the chagrin of some of its other residents. 

Astartion, of course, prided himself on helping drink through the camp’s meager wine supply. He also carefully gathered gossip like a court spymaster sitting on a mountain of secrets. Alyss had given up asking him to help with camp chores, but perhaps that was for the better. He was a little too interested in her secrets, and she preferred to keep those under wraps. Even if it meant that Astarion was taken off dish rotation.

[lifeofresulullah]

The Life of The Prophet Muhammad(pbuh): The Miracles of The Prophet Muhammad (PBUH)

Events that Took Place Before the Assignment of Prophethood

Here we retell some examples mentioned in trustable sources out of the many wondrous incidences that happened before and during the Prophet’s birth in relation to his coming to the world as well as events that took place before he was appointed as a prophet during his childhood and youth.

First: At the night when the Prophet was born,both his mother and those with her, the mother of Uthman Ibn As and the mother of Abdurrahman Ibn Awf, saw a great light about which they all said: “We saw such a light during his birth that this light illuminated for us the east and the west.”

Second: That night, most of the idols in the Kaaba were turned over.

Third: the famous palace of Chosroes, the king of Persia at that time, quaked and was damaged at the night the Prophet was born and its fourteen towers collapsed.

Fourth: TheLake of Sawa, which was deemed holy by Zoroastrians, sank into ground at the night the Prophet was born.

Fifth: The fire that had been kept ablaze for a thousand years in Istahrabad and that was worshipped by Zoroastrians went out at the night of the Prophet’s birth.

As the events we have mentioned above point out, the person that had just come to the Earth (PBUH) would abolish fire worshipping, demolish the palace of the Persians, and forbid sanctifying things without Allah’s permission.

Sixth: The famous event of the Elephant which happened fifty-two days before the Prophet’s birth and which was the reason for the revelation of the Chapter of al-Fil in the Qur’an. In order to destroy the Kaaba, Abraha, the governor of the Yemen, which was part of the Kingdom of Abyssinia, set out for Mecca with a great elephant called Mahmud at the front. When they got closer to Mecca, the elephant could no longer walk. They could not make it walk. Afterwards, the birds of ‘ababil’ rained stones on the army and swept them away. This event is well-known and it is elaborated in history books. It is one of the proofs of Muhammad’s prophethood (PBUH). This is because close to his birth, his beloved hometown and the direction he turns to, the holy Kaaba in Mecca, was saved from Abraha’s destruction in a wondrous and miraculous way.

Seventh:As is narrated by Halima, the Prophet’s nursing mother, and her husband, while Allah’s Messenger was with his nursing mother in his childhood, they saw that many times a patch of cloud made a shade for the Prophet so that he would not be disturbed by the sun. They told that event to others and it became trustably known by many people.

Eighth: Furthermore, when he was en route for Damascus at the age of twelve, with Priest Bukhara’s words, he saw a patch of cloud make a shade for Allah’s Messenger and showed it to others in the caravan.

Ninth: Again before the duty of prophethood was assigned, when Allah’s Messenger came back from business together with Khadijah’s servant Maysara, Khadijah (may Allah be pleased with her) saw two angels above the Prophet’s head making a shade like a cloud. She told it to Maysara, who replied: “I saw the same thing during the whole journey.”

Tenth: Asis recounted in trustable sources, before the duty of prophethood was assigned, Allah’s Messenger once sat under a tree. Though the ground was dry and barren before he sat, it became green. The branches of the tree bent above his head and made him a shade.

Eleventh:After his mother’s death, Allah’s Messenger first stayed with his grandfather, and when his grandfather died, he started staying with his uncle Abu Talib. During meals, if Abu Talib and his children ate with the Prophet, they would be full up. Whenever he was absent in the meal, they would not be full.That event is both renowned and trustable.

Twelfth: Ummu Ayman, his nanny who looked after him in his childhood, said: “Never did Allah’s Messenger complain about hunger or thirst. Neither in his childhood, nor when he was an adult…”

Thirteenth: Starting from the time he went to her nursing mother Halima and during the time he stayed with her, her property and her goats’ milk increased much in contrast to the others in her tribe. Those events are also both well-known and there is no doubt about their truth.

Fourteenth: Flies would not disturb the Prophet by perching on his blessed body or clothes. Furthermore, in some sources it is stated that Sayyid Abdulqadir Gilani, coming from the Prophet’s decent, had the same quality of not being disturbed by flies.

Fifteenth: After Allah’s Messenger honored the world, especially at the night of his birth, there was an increase in star-fallings. This is a sign that devils and jinn were forbidden to eavesdrop on the unknown in the heavens. As the Prophet came with revelation from Allah, surely it was necessary to block the flimsy news of the unknown given by oracles and jinn mixed with lies and fabrication so that no doubt would be cast on the revelation and what they told would not resemble it. Indeed, soothsaying was quite common before the prophethood was given. After the Qur’an was revealed, the Quran put an end to it. Furthermore, many oracles grasped belief, as their heralds among jinn could not carry out their duty after the Qur’an was revealed, and thus the oracles had no source any more.

* * *

In conclusion: Before his prophethood, there were many events that attested to the cause of Allah’s Messenger and that showed that he would be the Prophet. Such a person as him, who would

·        spiritually lead the world,

·        change the spiritual shape of the world,

·        make the world a field for the hereafter,

·        proclaim the values of the world’s creatures,

·        guide the jinn and the humanity to eternal bliss,

·        save the mortals by explaining the true nature of death which appears to be an eternal death sentence,

·        solve the mysteries intriguing the whole humanity by expounding the wisdom behind the creation of the world,

·        know and get others to know the aims of the Creator of the Universe, and by knowing that Creator, make Him known by others.

Obviously, even before such a person came to the world, everything, every sort of creatures and living beings would look forward to his coming, yearn to welcome him, applaud his coming and let others know if their Creator informs them. As is seen in the examples given above and in other sections, every kind of creatures show his miracles in the best fashion and attest to his cause of prophethood with the tongues of miracles.