dude, a wizard did it

probably just me seeing this but I instantly saw them in a ww1 Era medical tent near the front lines

I didn't even question why they knew about germ theory that just sounded right for the time period

Surprised no one mentioned Tanelorn, the Eternal City in Michael Moorcock’s Multiverse that includes Eternal Champions like Elric of Melniboné.

Charon was tired he had been doing this for awhile but he seems to be making more trips than usual so he asks one of his passengers what's going on but it's his harsh low broken voice given to him by millenia of not speaking much made it difficult

"Nice speech teach, but how exactly are we supposed to defend dark magic... we can't use that here." Said some sullen kid in the middle of the classroom, "its like practicing to ride a damn bike by using a stationary one!" The whole classroom began snickering and murmuring to each other.

Mr. Constantine looked out and then the lights in the room suddenly dimmed, and then in whispered voice, "Your right. Now stand up Dithard, and walk toward me."

The whole class grew quite as they witnessed Dithard standing up, they could see he was helpless to resist, his body was moving on its own, independent of him. Dithard never looked so scared.

"Thank you Mr. Dithard, now walk to the board and write, "I will not use sarcasm in this class again." You will do so ten times, and after the tenth time you may be released from my commands."

"Now class, can anyone tell me what happened there? Jillica?"

"Y-you used dark magic. H-how? W-we are not a-allowed to use dark magic!"

"Very good Jillica, but I am not ready to answer your question yet. With Mr. Dillard's sarcasm aside, he did make a very valid point." At this comment a tear ran down Dillard's face, "who here remembers in the Wards 101 class what happened when you countered a Wind Attack with a Fire based Ward?"

"It ended up taking my eyebrows off!"

"And why was that Herb?"

"Because the two magics combined and created a flame torch." Herb began to touch his forhead where is eyebrows used to be.

"Trust me class, when I tell you that you do not want to see what happens when Dark magic binds to your Ward."

"What happens?"

"Well, have any of you seen a gargoyle? A gargoyle is the result of a specific stone based dark magic attack binding to an improperly set wind based ward. Now there are some other factors that need to be in play but you should get my drift. Wards should only be used sparingly, and if no other option is available. Thus back to my main point, royalling F#@*ing some one up! We want to incapacitate your foe before too much Dark magic is released."

With that there was a loud thud, and to everyone's shock Dithard's head hit the wall and he slumped to the floor and began whimpering. He was not able to immeadiatly stand up, and so one of the other classmates, glaring at Mr. Constantine, helped him back to his seat.

"All right class, can anyone tell me what happened here, with your classmate?"

"You used Dark Magic again on him! I will report this to the Dean!" This came from the student who helped his friend back to his seat.

"You can tell the Dean. It wont change what happened, and it will simply inform her that your not meant for this school. Your dismissed, bye!"

"What?"

"Leave my class, or quit your idle threats. I have little tolerance for sullen brats!"

"Fine. It's whatever anyway."

"No, I did not use Dark Magic that time, contrary to what the Dark Masters would have you think, Dark Magic does have it limits. No, Mr. Dithard did that to himself."

"I fought against the Compelling the whole time. I fought with every muscle I had to stop, I was freaking out! I could see what I was doing, but I couldn't stop. "

"And then when he finished the tenth sentence, he was still fighting it, but with no resistance from the Compelling, he flung himself against the wall. He was also exerting alot of energy that was going nowhere, right?"

"Very good Jillica. Now remember this, Dark Magic can not be used to make someone hurt themselves, or someone they love, but you can use it to make them do it to themselves. I see you are still a little confused, don't worry, we will go over it again. For now though lets move to something a little more rough."

Mr. Constantine snapped his fingers on both hands and with a rustling of air a man materialized in the center of the classroom. "W-where am I?"

Edit: I added a little moar! to the story haha.*

[Not sure what universe the story is established in... but I thought this would still be entertaining...]

It's not a superhero prompt, nor a "humans da best" prompt, nor even a "my magic power seemed lame but is actually OP" prompt, so I'll fucking take it

Got any... got any, ah, good ones?

More pls?

Reactor online, Sensors online, Weapons online, All Systems nominal.

oh, good point. I guess mouse will safer...

It all started in middle school.

At over one tonne in weight at birth, I believe most people would classify me as heavy. However, I was a skinny whelp. My parents didn't mind, they reckoned that a modified diet would quickly turn me into the finest specimen of my species.

Here, I'd like to insert a little fact. Most parents are terribly biased, and mine was no exception.

Although the greatest majority of my community gossiped about me at the time I was born, and they all went on to later distance-diagnose me with a range of possible and impossible illnesses as I grew heavier by the day, without gaining the muscled, sculpted look of everyone else around me, my parents included, I didn't have a unhappy early whelphood. Kids that age don't know the difference, and my parents were very protective.

During my first year in Young Excellency, a small, expensive private school where my dream of becoming a teacher started, my mother tragically passed away, leaving my clumsy, dear old dad and I alone in this world. At my mother's funeral, I remember cuddling against his giant foot, watching a huge puddle forming as his tears silently fell to the ground.

At that moment, through the cracks of my young, broken dragon's heart, I realised that my life will never be the same again, and pressed my head tighter against my dad's polished, but slightly faded, carmine red scales...

Comment/vote if you want a Part 2, and don't forget to drop your thoughts over there too!

BONUS: Suggest names for the young dragon and his parents portrayed in the story, and see them possibly reflected in the next part!

He had a beef with the neighbor. Oh no, not the owner, but their Damn. Talking. Dog.

The door opens so softly that I almost didn't notice the boy who entered. He catches my gaze, smiles, and shakes off the snow that's clinging to his winter coat. It's thick, but not thick enough, for the little boy shivers and wipes his nose shyly on his sleeve, embarrassed.

He makes himself comfortable on the smallest couch in the room, near the fireplace. The couch is a blue so light, so delicate, bright but not dominating, just like the colour of his eyes. I think that's why he likes it so much.

The tray sits ready on the countertop, and I carry it over to the boy, placing it between us. Cookies and hot chocolate, with two giant marshmallows in each cup. He plucks the white candy out first and sucks on it.

"You really shouldn't be coming here so often," I tell him, but in truth, I very much enjoy his company. He knows this too, so he just smiles at me through sticky fingers.

"But I like it here, and you like it too when I'm here. Besides, I don't have anywhere else to go... and you don't either, do you?"

"Well, I do live here, so this is where I'm supposed to be." I gesture around my wooden hut. Or my inn, if you will. It's small, but also a lot bigger than it looks. After all, it is, in theory, infinite. "You, on the other hand, have someone waiting for you at home."

That's what I say, but we both know it isn't true, because if it was then he wouldn't be here in the first place. Like all others who've passed through, he is lost, and like all others who've passed through, he found me. Not all those who stray from their paths wind up here, but those who do usually have good reason to. In this space, they can find safety from their travels, if only for a brief moment, and I'm responsible for maintaining this little haven.

Unlike the others, however, he came back. Multiple times. And I still do not know how.

The boy finishes off his hot chocolate and returns the mug to the tray. He stares into the fire, silent, swinging his legs slightly. Not wanting to disturb his thoughts, I work silently on cleaning up. There are no other travelers staying here tonight, so it doesn't take me long to finish up for the day.

When I get back to the fireplace, the boy seems to have reached a conclusion. He still does not look at me.

"Have you ever wanted to run away? From home, I mean." The question catches me off guard, but only slightly. I try to think of a reply, but he doesn't seem interested in knowing the answer.

"How do people find your home?"

"They get... lost. And they are in danger, usually. They can't find the path that leads to their destination."

"And if they get lost again? Can they find this place again?"

"Well, you're here, aren't you?"

The boy nods, seemingly satisfied with my explanation. "Okay, I get it now. When I'm outside I'm always lost. That's why I always find myself here. But when I am with you, I'm safe..."

"But you're not like me, so you can't stay," I finished for him.

"But there isn't a rule that says I can't visit every day, is there? I just have to leave in the morning, and come back at night." He stares at me with those bright blue eyes, which somehow remain animated like a rushing river, soft like the falling snow, wise like the one who wanders, but is not lost. "Maybe you can adopt me, and become my older sister."

The notion of having a younger sibling was unexpectedly funny. "Okay," I promise, and hook my pinky around his. It would be nice, I suppose, and it would make my life feel less meaningless.

They were trying to make a joke using a lyric from the song. "Son, can you play me a memory? I'm not really sure how it goes."

“Uhhh. I think we have a problem. I sort of accidentally killed our leverage...”

Every time we go to the toilet there are thousands of them sent to die and they regrow permanently in the gut. Imagine the power.

I've 100% read this exact prompt before.

Dokja Kim lol

Catboy traps work as distractions? Noted.

More please! Can't stop a good story now!?!

RIP gut microbes

In that case, you can look forward to it! 😁

[deleted]

The crunch of the older man's footsteps into the frigid ice was the only sound in the night. He was dressed in practical clothing, a dark shirt and trousers underneath a heavy hooded black cloak. He wore a toolbelt holding strange instruments and tinctures and a small book tucked into his front shirt pocket. Altogether an odd look.

The apartment he was approaching was the only one for quite a while around, a dark, dilapidated wooden located on a lonely hill in a forest near the edge of town. Took some walking to get to, but he preferred it that way. Quiet. Peaceful. Away from prying eyes.

He slowly approached the front door.

Well...

Almost Quiet.

The instant his hand turned the doorknob and opened the door a crack, the sound of rock music shattered the peaceful night air like an iceberg cracking, blaring out into the night. Immediately taken aback, the bearded man quickly looked around, pulled the door open completely, deftly moved inside, and slammed the door shut in a huff of frustration. "ELENA" he bellowed toward the next room. "TURN THIS INFERNAL MUSIC OFF." The room he found himself in was a small living room that doubled as an entryway - a small couch, a television, a vintage jukebox that the old man gazed upon fondly. What he did not gaze upon as fondly was the travesty that was spread all over the room. A layer of rats, bunnies, squirrels, rodents, shriveled and compacted: unrecognizable. Used ramen noodle containers laying on their side, puddles of salty water leaking out. Frozen meal boxes that had been heated up and then discarded after being consumed.

The man's face darkened as his eyes narrowed.

The music continued to play.

"ELENA"

Immediately, a form swung down in front of him like a pendulum. Sharp teeth, red eyes, short black hair - Elena. Upside down - An excited expression. "HENRY!" Her face exuded affection, melting Henry's frigid heart for a second - until he glanced at the mess behind her and the tomb of his heart sealed shut again. No - he had to be stern this time. First things first - he went over to the jukebox and turned it off. Merciful silence. Behind him he heard the faintest sound as Elena righted herself, her feet touching the floor almost silently.

"Henry, I did it! I beat the other mail carriers!" she proudly strode over to the couch, digging underneath the refuse and pulling out an envelope as well as a small photo of her underneath a sign - "Carrier of the Month" "Oh congratulations!" Henry took the photo from her and examined it closely. It was Elena in her makeshift mail delivery uniform and hat, taken under the shade of a tree next to a kind-looking old woman holding up an envelope.

Elena ran a small overnight mail delivery service for the town. Though there was an official post office, sometimes delays and funding presented issues in getting crucial (or illicit) deliveries safely and on time to residents, particularly ones who lived far out of the way like Henry and Elena. Thus she decided to stake out her niche to find work. She only took nightly deliveries but didn't complain no matter the distance or the time of night. This was because Elena was a bat.

Or rather, a vampire.

Henry's grave face crinkled into an uncharacteristic smile.

"Elena I'm so proud of you! Congrats!"

She had been working hard to advertise her business, as difficult as it was to advertise during the day. Some of the residents even had bizarre eating habits - she had to make a hasty and apologetic retreat when offered a garlicky dinner once or twice while getting to know some of the town residents.

Henry steeled his heart again. He had to admonish her. Of all the vampires, this was the one he found hardest to deal with.

Elena beamed, retrieving the envelope that was next to the photograph, which was oily with food stains.

Henry wiped the envelope carefully using a nearby overturned tissue box

"Elena, this room is disgusting. You have to clean up around here. You can't let it build up like this."

Elena's face fell. She shifted, looking guilty. "I was in a rush after my deliveries and..I was afraid to go near the windows during the day" she said meekly.

He sighed. "I'll help you clean up this time but I really don't want to see any dead animals in here. And for God's sake turn your music down."

May add more but I'm tired for now.

Why of course I want a part two!