#T.A. Marks

[jolieeason]

Clear Your TBR 2025---January

Prompts I finished in January 1st book in a series A New to You Author A Book You Wouldn’t Shut Up About A predictable book Written by a celebrity A book you wish you could read again for the first time A book you owned for 5+ years Alliteration in the Title Bought in an independent bookshop or charity shop Book 1: Written by the same author Book 2: Written by the same author Related…

[pennylanewrites]

teacher’s aide (levi ackerman)

warnings: m!masturbation, voyerism, alcohol, smoking, age gap (15 years), me pushing my smitten!levi agenda

levi ackerman was an esteemed and recognised sociology professor. stern, strict and to the point in all of his lectures. most of his classes kept quiet, trying to take notes while he talked fast and went through powerpoint slides like it was the morning paper.

you had been working hard for that teacher’s aide position for two years, when you finally got the acceptance email. it was no secret on campus that professor ackerman’s assistants worked closely to him and got accepted in prestigious firms right after college, with his recommendation of course.

it was also no secret that professor ackerman was incredibly good-looking. his veiny arms and broad shoulders made up for his short height and the way his raven hair fell over his rectangular seeing glasses was so…

“y/n.” his stern voice shook you out of your thoughts. crap. the whole auditorium was staring at you. “the papers.” was all he said before going back to his laptop. you looked down at your hands, realising you were holding the class’s tests for more than you should. you cleared your throat and went through the auditorium, leaving a stack of papers in front of each student. as you walked down, your eye caught his.

levi noticed everything. he noticed how today you were wearing lipgloss instead of your usual lipstick, he noticed the rip in your tights that went down the back of your leg, your new platform loafers and the beads of sweat on your forehead. levi ackerman was not the kind of man that would catch feelings for a student, but you were so…good.

yes, at first he thought you were very attractive, and maybe that’s why he always rejected your aide application. but he also got to know you better every time you replied to one of his questions. you were the only student brave enough to raise their hand, and he appreciated that. sooner than later, you stayed back every day after class to clean up the mess of loose papers and pens, and before he knew it he was smitten.

maybe it was the way you brushed against him to clean the board and shut the projector, a timid apology escaping your lips, or the way you weren’t afraid to challenge him in a theoretical conversation about archaic philosophy during class.

or maybe…shit, how long have i been staring? levi looked away and cleared his throat when he noticed you trying to contain your smile.

class was over and you were going through your usual routine, marking left over questionnaires from the last lecture as he went through tomorrow’s one.

“sir, i’m wondering about…” you rolled your chair across the auditorium’s stage, holding onto his desk to stop the chair, “this one.” you pointed at a question on the paper.

levi was not one to lose his temper, but he was finding it very hard to contain himself when your knee was touching his and your perfume could reach his brain through his nose.

“well, this-this one…” he trailed off, watched you push your hair off your neck, leaving the bare skin on sight for him. god, he could eat you right then and there.

levi had never been more thankful for his phone to ring in his life. the vice dean’s name flashed on the screen, and you leaned back to allow him to get the device.

“i have to go…meeting…come by my office tonight, okay?” he scrambled to get his things and ran off, leaving you in the empty auditorium.

you let your head fall on your pillow, groaning with despair. he hates me. he can’t even talk to me.

you had seen him earlier with petra, his old t.a who graduated last year. he was laughing, for fuck’s sake. he was laughing and buying her coffee in the campus coffee house, and they were sitting over a book and…

“ugh! what is she even doing here?” you threw your pillow on the floor, but it hit you back in the face.

“oh my god, shut up!” your roommate kept hitting you with the pillow, until you grabbed it. “enough, y/n, please.”

“mikasa, do you think they’re dating?” you sat up on the bed, looking at the girl across you. “be honest, i can take it.”

“i think you’re sick. there’s something seriously wrong with you.” she scrunched her nose up in disgust.

“he’s so…”

“old.”

“mature.”

“he’s mature because he’s old.” your roommate kindly reminded you of your age difference. “get over him, please. even if he liked you, he’s your teacher. i doubt he would put his job in danger.”

your eyes lit up, an excited smile covering your earlier gloom.

“you think he likes me?”

“that’s not what i said. where are you going?”

you only grinned before grabbing your bag and barging out of the dorm room. your shoes squeezed against the polished floors as you made your way to the teachers’ wing, and to the third door to your left, your favourite wooden door in the world.

with a sigh, you lifted your fist to knock, but something made you freeze. you looked around to make sure no one was in the corridor, before pushing your ear against the door.

shit, shit, shit, shit

he was moaning. fucking moaning, in his office, when he had specifically told you to visit him. you thought of the possibility of him having a girl in there, even petra, but no one else could be heard. everything right in your head was telling you to turn around and leave, but your hand was on the doorknob, and you were slowly twisting it.

just one look. one look and i’ll-

your eyes grew wide at the sight. a half empty bottle of bourbon sat next to an empty glass, a cigarette was slowly burning on the ashtray, the first two buttons of his white shirt were undone. god, you could clearly see his nipples through the fabric. the desk obscured your vision, but you could see his hand moving up and down, up and down, up-

“fu-fuuuck.” his voice strained, his head fell back and you were wet a creep.

you turned around and leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath. looking at your reflection on your phone, you made sure pervert wasn’t written across your forehead, and turned back around.

two soft knocks on the door. levi fixed his hair quickly, buttoned his shirt and put the cigarette out.

“come in.” you entered the room and he looked at you like a deer caught in the headlights.

“long day?” you pointed at the bottle, smiling softly. he chuckled and motioned for you to sit down. “i can come back some other…” you trailed off when he took another glass out, filling it halfway and pushing it towards you.

you fidgeted with a ring on your finger, unsure of what to do.

“i shouldn’t…”

“i won’t tell if you won’t.” he filled his own glass and raised it to you, before taking a sip. you smiled softly, taking a sip of the drink. it burned coming down, just like his gray stare on you did.

“i have the tests marked. that question i was wondering about earlier,” you took the stack of papers out of your bag, leaving them in front of the man.

“yeah, i looked it up. it’s actually-”

“i figured it out.” you cut him off. he raised an eyebrow and put his glasses on, looking down at the marked paper, and the right answer which you had wrote down in red ink.

“you did.” he agreed and looked at you through strands of his raven hair. “good girl.”

you froze. you could feel your whole face turning an ugly shade of red. a million disgusting thoughts ran through your head as he walked around the desk to sit on the chair across from yours. his muscles flexed as he reached over the desk to get the ashtray and his drink. you took a big sip of the drink, trying to convince yourself the sexual tension was just in your head.

fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck.

“what?” he shook you out of your thoughts. he knew you were staring at him.

“nothing. i’ve never seen you like this.” you admitted, still sipping your drink.

“like what?”

like you don’t have a stick up your ass.

“relaxed.” you opted for the nice comment.

“i’m far from relaxed, trust me.” you watched as he placed a cigarette between his wet lips, lighting it with a white lighter.

“those are bad luck.” you took the lighter in your hand, fidgeting with it.

“huh. maybe that’s why my life’s shit.” he chuckled, taking a drag of the cigarette.

“come on…” your eyes fell on a book on his desk.

masculine domination, pierre bourdieu. you grinned, taking it in your hands to inspect the front page.

“take it. it’s for my doctorate students, but i think you-”

“i’ve read it.” you closed it and put it back on the pile.

“of course you have. you’re a smart girl, you know?”

he was praising you. and he was filling your glass again. when did you even finish the first?

“are you trying to get me drunk, sir?”

“i think you’re capable of controlling yourself.”

“don’t be so sure.” you mumbled, staring at your feet.

“what was that?”

“nothing!” you shook it off with a smile, but he had heard you just fine.

god, you wanted him so bad. as the hours went by, and the bottle came to its’ end, you became more and more impatient. you were scared of what you would do honestly, if one more drop of alcohol entered your system. but, were you crazy to think he wanted this too? why would he pour you a drink, and ask you all these questions, and make you laugh with stupid jokes if he-

“what are you thinking about?” he shook you out of your thoughts. you showed him the clock on the wall.

“that i should get going. some teacher thought it would be a good idea to have an 8 am class.” you grinned. you reached your hand out to return him his lighter, but you dropped it instead.

“that’s one lousy teacher.” he chuckled, kneeling on the floor to get the lighter. you waited for him to get up, so you could too, but he wouldn’t move. still kneeling, he came closer to you, his hands hesitantly moving to rest on the sides of your thighs.

internally, you were screaming. but not a single breath came out of your mouth as you watched him. he sighed and finally locked eyes with you.

“i’m not crazy, am i?”

“wh-what?” your voice came out as a whisper. pathetic.

“to think there’s something, right? here. there’s something here and i-”

“sir-”

“don’t.” he squeezed your thighs and you swore your heart would jump out your chest sooner or later. he straightened his back and got up, pulling you with him. “don’t call me sir.”

you let him seat you on top of his desk, you let him spread your legs and stand between them. he pushed your hair behind your ear and inched closer. his breath against your neck made you shiver, and a soft kiss forced a small gasp out of your mouth.

your hands trembled as you placed them around his neck, and his breath staggered when you played with the strands of hair that fell on his undercut.

“please kiss me.” he swore his knees would give when he heard your voice, so soft, so sweet. you were as needy for him as he was for you.

his strong hands met your face, his silver ring cooled your burning cheek. you closed your eyes, and his lips finally met yours. it was careful at first, both of you scared the other would change their mind. but all it took was you pulling him closer by the collar of his shirt, and he lost his mind. his hands slipped down to your waist and you arched your back to get closer to him, if that was even possible. your mouth trailed to his jaw, leaving sloppy kisses all the way down his neck. a playful bite made him gasp. you chuckled.

“stop. you’ll drive me crazy.” he squeezed your hip.

“good.” you grinned and leaned in to kiss him again, but his hand in your hair held you back.

“you have to go…” he managed between soft kisses down your chest, at least as far as your shirt allowed, “or i won’t be able to stop.” he held your hands, and kissed them both, maintaining eye contact with you.

“then don’t stop.” you whined, but your grin turned into a frown when he pulled you off the desk and fixed your skirt. “levi-”

“save something for later, right?”

his promise of a later was enough. you left him to clean up and walked out the door with a sheepish smile and a whispered goodnight.

your phone buzzed on your way back to the dorms, and you stopped in your tracks when you saw the name on the screen.

professor ackerman: wear that green dress tomorrow.

you raised an eyebrow.

just the dress.

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

While we’re all marking the battle at the Morannon and the destruction of the ring today, let us not forget that March 25 is ALSO the day that Borondir, the messenger of Cirion, first reached Eorl and his people back in T.A. 2510 to ask for the help of the Éothéod in driving invaders out of Gondor.

Of course, when Gondor called for aid, (proto) Rohan answered, and we eventually got the Oath of Eorl and the founding of Rohan and the start of 500 years of steadfast allies and friends. So this is a momentous day for all of Middle Earth, but especially for the Rohirrim and, as a huge Rohan partisan, I will be celebrating it as such.

[kanawolf]

Rohan OC's

These ladies will be added to my pinned post of ocs eventually, but for now, here they are!

Cenelind, of the House of Baldred, who’s name is made up of the Old English elements Cene (bold, keen) and Lind (linden tree, shield), is the firstborn daughter of Lord Edorfeld (fence, shelter, protector & field) & Lady Cymewinn (comely, lovey & meadow, pasture). While she is a woman in Rohan society, she is also the firstborn, and as such she spent much of her life learning how to rule her house – should she ever need to – alongside such skills that noble women were encouraged to learn (weaving being among them). However, due to her next two siblings being girls as well, she also took up horse husbandry & the sword, learning the skills that would allow her to ride alongside the Rohirrim, should that need ever arise as well. These skills would discouraged once her youngest sibling and the first male heir of the family was born, though by that point, she had enough freedom and was stubborn enough to maintain that her brother still had many years to grow before he would be able to have the skills and knowledge to truly take over the house from her father, and thus she would remain the steward of her house until that time.

Cenelind is dark-skinned with light russet-brown hair and dark eyes, tall - even for a Rohirric woman - and with the muscular build that years of learning combat have bestowed upon her. She lived from T.A. 2726 - T.A. 2794 (68 years old when she died, and was around 33 during WotR).

Her siblings are: 

Cymerun, made up of the elements Cyme (comely, lovely) & run (rune, secret lore), who is the 2nd oldest. Estwyna, made up of the elements Est (grace, favor) and Wine (friend), the middle child. Eadwald, made up of the elements Ead (wealth, fortune) and Weald (powerful, mighty), he is the youngest and the heir to the house.

Her horse is named Northunor (thunder from the north)

Drymewynn, her name is made up of the elements Dryme (music / melody / harmony) and Wynn (joy, bliss), is the eldest daughter & second child to the stablemaster Denmund (valley & protector) & Sunngifu (sun & gift), the midwife who aided Lady Cymewinn in her childbirths. Due to being a lady’s maid, and being the lady’s maid of Cenelind in particular, Drymewynn is not particularly a stranger to long journeys and adventures on horseback & at her ladys’ side. However, while she is skilled with a horse, her true talents lay in her voice and her hands, being able to work with threads and strings in similar ways, Drymewynn is a talented weaver and musician, able to play nearly any instrument that uses strings after practicing for only a short while. Due to an unfortunate skirmish, one of her legs is injured, affecting her walking speed and ability to stand for long periods of time – all of which is accommodated for when in her home and Cenelinds’ home, though not so much outside.

Drymewynn is tall and fair with bright eyes, dark hair, plump of body and with calloused fingertips. She lived from T.A. 2723 - T.A. 2795 (72 years old when she died, and was around 35 during WotR).

Her siblings are:

Sigeweard, made up of the old English elements Sige (victory) and Weard (guard, guardian), he is the firstborn.

Dagny, made up of the Old Norse elements Dagr (day) and Nyr (new), she is the youngest. 

Her horse is named Deorwine (dear friend)

Buirid, her name is made up of the Old Norse word Bua (to live) and Old Norse element Fridr (beautiful, beloved), is the daughter of Brimdael (sea, the edge of the sea & valley) & Aesfyld (ash tree field), born to the noble house of Brynewelm. Following in the footsteps of her mother, Buirid is skilled in horseback riding and weaving, alongside that of politics, using her station as a noble’s daughter to keep her eyes and ears open, and befriending many amongst the Mark as a way of gathering information. She tends to her house much like any noble lady does, whilst also learning from the wise and the historians of her people, a profession she enjoys the study and practice of, alongside that of the healing arts. Having lived through war, the bloodshed does not scare her, though unlike those who train as shieldmaidens, she prefers the bloody work that comes from healing.

She is warm-toned / sun-kissed, tall and lithe, with bright hair and sharp, dark eyes, looking more delicate than she actually is in truth. She lived from T.A. 2729 - T.A. 2803 ( 74 years old when she died, was around 30 in WotR, lived long enough to see Brytta take the throne and her grandson to be born).

Her horse is named Swiftryne (a swift course rapid running water)

[dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice]

To the Shadows that Cry Witch /// Chapter 18

And I'm back!! I'm so happy to return to writing this fic for you guys, and for the long time I've been away, I've made sure to make this next chapter extra long for you all - at almost 6k words! (Which is a feat for me lol) So good news aside, I am unfortunately not going to be posting weekly anymore, as I have just started uni, and I already have a lot of studying to do. But I can promise that I will be posting chpaters as frequent as I can, I'll just be limiting myself to make time for my academic side of life. Anyways, Enjoy! <3

Summary: Magic was real, but it came at a price. So when two girls end up in the one place they never thought they could reach, strange things began to happen. Good or bad? That's up to them to find out.

Tags: Kili x oc/reader - Fili x oc (POV to be written soon) - Thorin's company × ocs/reader (platonic) - fluff - angst - EXTREME slow burn - crack - Bagginshield

Word Count: 5960

Warnings: Mentions of injuries, claustrophia, accidental drowning, swearing.

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

PLEASE START FROM THE BEGINNING IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY OK LOVE U

Want some background music? Check out my Soundtrack Playlist!

Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

< Chapter 17 // Chapter 18 // Chapter 19 >

Part 2: Chapter 18 -

Into the thick of it.

Selenotropism (Definition): Growth in response to moonlight. (Noun / Origin: Classical Greek / Se·lee·no·trop·isum)

The Old Forest, Outer Hobbiton, The Shire – T.A. 25th October 2939 of the Third Age (1339 in Shire-reckoning)

I had strayed from the path a while back, grass replacing the smooth stones that marked the paths circling Hobbiton. Only the dying light of my small lantern accompanied me, I foolishly realised, as I had not planned ahead for this spur-of-the-moment outing – thinking I could rely on the shine of the moon, but I forgot that it was a new phase, so all that was ahead of me was the gaping darkness, as it tempted me deeper into the towering trees of the Old Forest.

By now, any glow from the lights left outside each hobbit hole had vanished behind the silhouettes of thick trunks and bushes that surrounded me. The only luck I had to return before Bilbo’s curfew was if I stumbled upon a road that led me back, and, I managed to guess the correct direction that wouldn’t lead me into the wilderness. Just because I had a map of Middle Earth on my favourite mug back home, didn’t mean I had memorised it. Which, at this point, was my biggest downfall.

I inhaled deeply through my nose, taking in the sharp, fresh air that came with a clear late evening, like a cold glass of water, that was blissful on your throat at 2am. Approaching one of the taller trees, I plopped myself down against its trunk and stretched my legs out. Many thoughts passed over my mind, memories from Earth, things I owned that would never be found here, but what stuck, was thoughts of my family; Where they were; if time continued on, and, if the two of us reported missing. How they would cope with the news. That was the one thing I dreaded – considering how sensitive my family was. I wondered about Bella, my dog. Knowing her singular braincell, it’ll take her a few years to realise I’m gone. I smiled at the thought of my dogs face as she pounced around the fields in search of rabbits, her thin ginger tail whipping back and forth. Her warm brown eyes staring intently at me from in between the long grass, the iris’ flickering with green.

Wait – green?

Bella’s eyes weren’t green.

I blinked rapidly, returning my senses to my surroundings. Pressing the bases of my palms against my eyelids, I blinked them open, and realised that the green eyes weren’t leaving – they were in fact, in front of me.

I grabbed my lantern and held it up, stretching my arm out to allow the dying flame illuminate the bushes that sat a few yards ahead of my feet. With baited breath I stared arduously at the small gap of leaves, until a flash of green flickered, and the pair of green eyes returned, this time with a physical body.

Placing one paw in front of the other, the shadow silently crept out from beneath the darkness of the leaves, almost like a hunter stalking its prey. Light shimmered like gold on ebony fur, and with a twitch of its ear, a black cat emerged, traipsing into the light.

A soft gasp left my lips, watching it stop just before where my feet lay, and I felt a smile warm my face. Any sorrowful thought that plagued my mind earlier was now whisked away at the sight of the small feline.

“Hello,” I whispered, as I gently placed the lantern down, watching as the cat’s emerald eyes flickered over me, following my every move. “Where did you come from?”

As slowly as before, I lowered my hand to the ground, and carefully moved it towards the creature, stopping just past my toes. To my delight, the cat took another cautious step forwards, it’s black nose lifting to sniff the air, before lowering it to my curled fingers. My pinkie twitched slightly, and the cat took a step back, returning to sit where it had revealed itself by the bush, the end of its tail flicking slightly from where it rested on the grass.

“No touching? That’s ok.” I murmured, taking my hand back and placing it on my lap. Minutes passed by, where the two of us simply observed each other, getting used to the other’s presence whilst waiting for the other to move.

My head raised suddenly, Bilbo’s stern face appearing at the forefront of my mind, and I remembered my curfew. Getting to my feet as calmly as I could to not startle the creature in front of me, I brushed off the fallen leaves that had caught themselves on my shift and coat, and picked up my lantern.

I had only taken a couple steps, when a ‘meow’ sounded from behind me. Puzzled I turned around to see the cat was now by my feet, it’s eyes wide as it approached me, almost playful.

“Huh?” Was all I said.

It meowed again, white teeth flashing as it opened its mouth to make the sounds.

“I’m sorry but I have to go.” I replied gently. “Or Bilbo will have my head.”

I went to walk away once again, but jumped with a start as I looked down to find it had appeared in front of me, but this time with something familiar in its mouth. Squinting, I gasped in outrage when I realised what it was.

“Hey!” I exclaimed, shoving my hand into the inner pocket of my coat, only to find it open and missing the one thing that was supposed to be inside it. Though I knew where it had gone – and it was currently trotting away with its tail held high.

Turning on my heel, I strode after the cat, keeping the lantern as high as I could to not lose the dark-furred feline to the darkness it could oh-so easily blend into. Eventually I broke into a run, frustrated at the sight of the cat as it only got further away.

“Come on!” I cried with heaving breaths – bed rest had not been courteous to my stamina levels. “That’s important to me! You can’t just take it!”

Said thing was a braided leather bracelet, cream in colour, with a red button sewn on as a clasp. It was a handmade gift from my grandad, one I had kept close to me and cherished since his passing three years ago. And I certainly wasn’t going to part with it any time soon.

My walking boots thumped heavily against the ground. Whilst working perfectly well on the wild terrain, they were certainly not suited for running, as my feet began to feel like they have become big hooves – too heavy and stiff for these kinds of escapades. Shoving away a low hanging branch, I then leaped over a twisted root, only to cry out as my still-healing ankle gave way, and I hit the ground with a thud.

With a groan, I pushed myself onto my elbows before twisting over to sit up. The cat came back into my mind, and I whipped my head around, ignoring the throbbing aches from the points of impact my body graciously had with the ground.

The glass of my lantern was smashed on the ground in front of me, and in the final flickers of the flame, my eyes landed on a large rabbit hole in the middle of a hollowed tree trunk, and as I climbed to my feet, I caught a flash of green from in the shadows. Marching over, I kneeled down, braced my hands on either side of the rotting bark, and peered into the darkness.

It was an exceptionally large tunnel, big enough for me to fit into. Roots of all sizes twisted and hung from the walls and roof of soil. The odd beetle appeared, before dashing away again, and as the flame behind me finally died, I went to give up on the rescue.

With a snap, a twig broke behind me, and I spun around, only to let out a scream as the rotten bark crumbled in my hands as it gave way. Feeling a sharp knock against my head, I watched the world go black, feeling myself tumble into the darkness.

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

“C’mon c’mon c’mon.” I whimpered, working my trembling hands as best as I could to strike the match against the rough side of the cardboard box. It really helped sometimes when I forgot to empty all my pockets, feeling extremely lucky that matches were one of the things found. What didn’t help was the uncontrollable tears that began to pool in my eyes – and also that fact that I was stuck in a narrow tunnel in the complete pitch black.

With a crackle and a hiss, the small flame burst to life in between my fingers, and I craned my head the best I could to look down either side of the tunnel, hindered by the fact that it was so narrow, my back was arched forwards and my neck was constantly bent over at the low ceiling. The tightening in my chest also meant the claustrophobia was kicking in big time.

Trying my best to look down both sides as much as I could through the blur of my tears, I noticed that one end trailed upwards, and decided that was my best option to fining the way out. Feeling the heat of the flame grow, I quickly blew the match out, and summoning all the energy I had left, I flopped onto my front, and began to commando crawl up through the darkness.

Digging my elbows and knees into the soil, I clambered onwards for what felt like a quarter of an hour, whilst also lighting the odd match, checking that there wasn’t any other tunnels that I would accidentally take. It was odd that I was so far down, and I wondered whether or not I landed down there naturally.

Soon, to my luck, the fresh air from earlier began to replace the damp and stagnant, the tunnel widening enough for me to stand on my knees, and I felt relief wash through me knowing I was almost out. Lighting a match, I raised it up, only to see a large hole above me just a metre ahead, with a familiar wall of bark surrounding it. Shuffling myself closer whilst trying to keep the match alight, I went to reach to the edge of the hole, when something caught my eye.

Adding on to the very odd things that had happened to me on this night, I stared bewildered at my bracelet hanging right in front of me, hooked onto an even odder-looking piece of wood. My hand quickly shot out, grabbing it and stuffing it to the bottom of my deepest pocket, making sure it was zipped up securely, safe and tight.

Lighting another match, I looked back, holding the small flame up as I eyed the piece of wood curiously. It didn’t look quite like a root – the end was too thick and blunt, and was covered in parts that were unnaturally smooth, a darkened colour as if someone had crawled down here and decided to carve and polish random parts of tree roots, leaving them to stick out about several inches from the soil. Reaching out, I poked and prodded at it with my fingernail, before slowly wrapping my hand around it. A pull.

But I didn’t pull it.

Before I knew it, my hand was jerked forward, sucked into the wall as if I had stuck my hand into the flesh of a giant slimy slug, and I quickly began to panic, my eyes widening as I watched soil wrap around my wrist like short, stubby tentacles to pull it in further. The squelching and crumbling of wet dirt and rock contorting around my limb echoed through the tunnel as I realised that I couldn’t let go of the stick, so trying my best to think rationally through the crushing fear of becoming part of the ground, I leant onto my back and lifted my legs up, bracing my feet against the wall. With all my might, I gritted my teeth together as I grasped my rapidly disappearing arm, and pulled.

I let out a loud grunting breath as I felt it give way a little, but quickly repositioned as I prepared to pull again. But before I could, a deep sound resonated in my ears, drowning out the noises of moving dirt, and every hair on my body stood on end, terror pinging through every vertebrae along my spine, the one sound I had wished to never hear again pounding against my ear drums.

Feeling the colour drain from my face, I slowly turned my head to my right, until my eyes landed on an oh-so familiar shape down in the tunnel.

It was blue.

Slitted eyes pierced into my own as I fixated on the terrifying creature from my dream, and a tsunami of panic crashed over me, for this time I wasn’t in a dream – and this was very much real.

With a cry, I returned to my arm, bracing my legs and pulling with all my might. My eyes darted back down the tunnel, and the creature lurched, it’s claws reaching out to gouge the dirt as it tried to pull its large body towards me. If they could gouge dirt, they could certainly gouge me. Sobs racked through my throat as I frantically tugged at my arm, feeling my fingernails break skin as I clawed uncontrollably at my wrist, that was slowly but surely revealing itself.

Letting out a scream with one final pull, my hand shot out, hitting me in the nose. Through the uncontrollable watering of my eyes, I watched as the soil closed itself back up, spiralling inwards like an alien mouth until it became part of the tunnel wall once again. A roar much closer than before pierced my ears, and I darted for the hole above me.

Hands clawed and gripped at grass as I clumped bundles of it up, pulling my torso up and over the edge whilst my feet scrambled and slipped against roots and waterlogged soil.

I managed to hook one knee over the edge, and went to drag the other up, when something pulled against it. Blood pumped through my ears as I looked down, only to find that the bandage around my ankle had snagged against a root. I pulled my foot up again and again, only to find that the know holding it together refused to budge.

“Curse Erard and his perfect bandaging!” I cried.

Remembering what I had put in my coat pocket earlier, I stuck my hand in to pull out my sewing scissors, and quickly got to work, hacking away at the cream material.

It was just in time, because as soon as my foot landed on the grass, a glowing blue set of claws shot out. I screamed in terror, then howled in pain as one of the hooked appendages nicked my shin, and I clambered to my feet, sprinting full power into the darkness.

Tears ran down and across my cheeks, and hair whipped across my face and neck as I raced between the dark silhouettes of trees and stumbled over unseen roots, hoping to whatever deity was out there that I was going the right way. Adrenaline had replaced any feeling as I tried to put as much distance between myself and that godforsaken hole.

I decided to only take a moment, hands gripping my knees as I arched over to catch what breath I’d lost, air rattling through my lungs as I tried my best to stop my breaths from shuddering and shaking. My back pressed against a trunk as I tried to shrink my shoulders together, hiding myself as best as I could whilst I recovered. Though an odd feeling in one of my hands had my eyes blinking open, and in the darkness, I could just make out the outline of a thin object in my hand. Running my fingers up and down the surface, I recognised it: I had not let go of the oddly shaped stick, the one that caused my hand to be sucked into a wall by some unseen force. Doing my best in the pitch black, I tried to make out the shapes and features on the stick of wood – surprisingly straight, and thinned out slightly at the top end, and I wondered if someone had dropped their toy wand down a rabbit hole.

Leaves rustled nearby, and I quickly spun around. Though I had not watched my surroundings, and my arm collided with the trunk, knocking the stick sharply against the bark.

A light.

A spark.

Then a bang.

I let out a scream, my arm coming up to shelter my face against the splinters of wood that flew past me. Lowering it, my eyes widened like saucers as I gawked at the sight in front of me.

The tree that stood to the right of mine was now smoking, the edges of the gaping hole that pierced all the way through the trunk glowing an orange, whilst embers floated, before slowly lowering to the ground.

My hands flew up unconsciously in surrender, when I looked to my right hand, looking accusingly at the perpetrator. Just barely, I managed to spot the tip as a light faded until it returned to looking like any other smoothed out stick off a tree.

Though I guess it wasn’t just a stick.

Thundering footsteps vibrated heavily through the ground, and up my legs. Daring to look around the tree, my eyes landed on the blue outline of the creature as it spread its wings, using them to help it skid to a stop, mud spraying everywhere (which was odd, considering I could still see through it).

I held my breath, begging for it to move on. It raised its horned head, taking deep breaths as it searched for scents in the air – most likely mine – and I prayed that the light wind blowed in my favour.

A creak, then a groan, then more creaks, sounded from beside me. Both me and the creature slowly turned our heads, watching as the tree with the hole began to splinter at the sides of the hole, bits of wood springing out as the upper half pressed its weight down. With a loud, creaking BANG, the sides gave way, and the upper half slammed down onto its lower half, before letting out a long, resounding groan as it fell to the side, and my body shrunk in on itself, cringing at every loud noise that drew the creatures attention to my hiding spot. Hitting the ground with a final mighty crash, branches and leaves snapped off whilst birds from all around scattered at the sudden noise.

Finally, I let my body relax, shaking off the tension as the foliage settled once again, and I peeked around my tree once again, only to find that the creature was looking directly at me.

Taking cautious steps, I slowly began to back away, only for the creature to lower its head,  and it began steadily stalking towards me, just like it had done on our first meeting.

Feeling the fear and panic pierce through me once again, I racked my brain for a way out. I glanced at the stick in my hand. Raising my arm, I hesitantly pointed it at the creature. Its eyes landed on what I was pointing, at it let out a roar, and broke into a run. I sped up my backwards walking, keeping my arm raised, and without thinking, I brought it back, and gave it a powerful flick.

Just like before, a spark shot out the end, flooding the forest with light for a moment, crossing the distance in less than a second before landing a direct hit on the beasts head.

The blast sent it flying backwards, and it crashed into the bushes behind it, vanishing amongst the leaves after leaving an outline of its landing. I punch the air, letting out an uncontrollable shout of triumph. Though that was short lived, as the beast let out another roar, more aggressive than the last. Oh, I had pissed it off big time.

Stumbling over my own feet, I darted back the way I had come, speeding as fast as my legs would allow, praying that the lights of Hobbiton would appear again soon.

To my luck, as if someone was watching over me, I finally felt the stone path, that I had foolishly abandoned earlier, back under the soles of my boots, and looking up, I smiled, relieved, at the sight of a street-lantern just metres ahead. I could finally see properly. I continued down the path at the same running speed, not letting any false sense of security fall over me. The banks at either side of the path grew higher and higher as the stones travelled downwards towards the first set of houses, until one fell away to reveal the town. Behind me, my ears picked up the sounds of footsteps again, and I whipped around, raising the stick once more to point it at the creature, this time aiming for between the eyes.

It skidded to a halt at the edge of the forest, kicking up another spray of dirt as it did. It stood there, nostrils flaring, with what looked like smoke emitting from them and from between the gaps of its mouth. Claws dug into the ground as it stood on the bank that towered above me, its eyes boring into mine before flicking down to what was in my hand.

A growl erupted from its throat, one that you would feel in the ground rather than the air, it was that deep. It snapped its jaws, teeth flashing and saliva dripping and disappearing into thin air. To my surprise, with a flick of its spiked tail, it tucked in its wings and turned around, vanishing into the forest.

A breath escaped me, and I relaxed every tensed muscle, whilst patting my chest to calm my quivering heart. I reached up and rubbed my neck, moving my head around in a full circle to feel those satisfying pops in my spine. I also shook my arms and legs out, ridding what I could of my remaining adrenaline.

Doing a quick scan of the area, I figured everyone was still in bed, despite the loud screams and shouts I had made while deep in the forest. I made a reminder to never get myself back into any sort of danger whilst staying with hobbits, because you could guarantee that they would snore through the whole ordeal unless you smashed their window in screaming bloody murder.

After confirming that nobody was watching me, I began the trek up to Bilbo’s house. Despite the fact that no one heard me in the woods earlier, it didn’t mean that I didn’t want to be found wandering around after hours, so I decided to take the long but hidden route around the outskirts of the town.

‘At least it’s scenic.’ I thought to myself, but remembered immediately afterwards that I wouldn’t be able to see most of it considering the sun was non-existent right now, and the nearest lanterns were at least a couple metres away from the path.

Jogging over one of the stone bridges, I walked along the path until I reached the banks of one of Hobbiton’s lakes. Across it, I could make out the lights from Bilbo’s kitchen windows up the hill, and sped up. Walking past a cluster of bushes, I looked over them at the small lake beside me, only to stop in my tracks.

On the grassy bank on the other side of the lake, Kay stood in only her shift and socks, deathly still. Her head was tilted down slightly, strands of wavy copper hair hanging down and concealing her face slightly as she stared into the watery depths.

I stared apprehensive – she had never done anything like this before. Unless she had a secret hobby that included staring at water (when she knows she can’t swim yet), then there definitely was something wrong. Silently lowering into a crouch, I hid myself behind the bushes, and crawled on my hands until I was able to peek around the leaves.

She still hadn’t moved from her standing position, though after a moment passed, her leg moved out, and she took a single step forward, and leaned over slightly.

Yeah, there was definitely something wrong.

I went to stand up, planning on marching over there and dragging her away for an explanation, when I stumbled slightly. My hand shot out to grab at a branch of a bush, only for it to let out a crack that resounded through the silence of the night.

Kay’s head snapped up, and I immediately stilled, staring in horror.

From where I was, I could see that her eyes had turned completely white, reflecting in the yellow glow of the street-lantern nearby, and was that blue on her cheeks?? No, no blue anymore. I remained as still as I could – I didn’t trust white eyed Kay – and remained in the shadows until she slowly turned back towards the water.

A minute passed, where she only stood, then she took another step forward, her toes at the edge of the grassy bank that held her up about half a metre higher above the water level. She leaned further. And further. I was preparing to call out, when she fell, sending a wave to crash over the still surface of the water, and I rushed to my feet.

Nuh uh, there was no way I’m having some water-obsessed demon possess my only earth friend to jump in lakes!!

(Well, more like belly flopped.)

Rounding the edge to where she had stood, chucking the stick in my hand on the ground, and I dived in, getting flashbacks to pulling her out of that pond when we first fell here. In the black depths, I stuck my arms out, hoping to catch onto her at some point.

A turquoise glow appeared from near my feet, and brushing the blurred outlines of pondweed aside, I made out the fuzzy silhouette of Kay as she floated unmoving over the glow, though one of her arms was outstretched, reaching towards it. I then reached out and grasped her shoulder, only for her to begin thrashing in my grip. Despite her flailing, I managed to keep my hands on her, and started dragging her to the surface.

Breaking the surface, I gasped for air, and brought Kay with me, only for her to worsen. This time, she replaced thrashing for screeching, her hands shooting out to claw at where mine were on her biceps. At one point she leaned over to bite me, and I noticed something ghastly.

Her teeth had become pointed and fang-like, snapping menacingly just like the creature had done earlier as it chased me through the woods.

Deciding that enough was enough, I swam towards the shore. More like flopped around, considering I had a feral, possessed Kay in my grip trying to gnaw my arm into a stub.

Reaching a part of the bank that slowly raised into short pebble beach, instead of the miniature grassy cliff, I managed to find my footing, and quickly let go of Kay to shrug off my heavy, now waterlogged coat and chuck it onto the shore. Turning back, I stood and watched as Kay remained on her front in the water, her hands gripping onto the stone as she lifted her head up to glare at me with her white eyes. I took a small step forward, and she bared her teeth, emitting a cat-like hiss. I put my hands on my hips.

“Alright, mermaid time is over.” I deadpanned.

She hissed again, and pushed back against the rocks, trying to re-submerge herself. Acting quick, I kicked at the water, emitting a wave that hit her directly in the face. Whilst she flailed distracted at the attack, I lunged forward and grabbed her under the armpits. She shrieked, arms twisting and flapping about to try and claw at my arms again. Though she had cut her nails recently, so all that she left were shallow red and white lines along my forearms. Dragging her onto the stones, I pinned her down by the shoulders and tried speaking over her hissing and screaming.

“C’mon, you can’t just go –” *HISSS*  “ –Stop it. I said you can’t just go around jumping into water whenever you feel like it and expect me to drag you out each time!”

A hand came out and slapped against the side of my head, and I sucked in a breath, gritting my teeth. Shutting my eyes for a second, I let out the breath and opened them again to meet Kay’s white ones, and came to my last option.

“You asked for it.” I warned, raising my eyebrows at her accusingly.

And slapped her across the face.

Letting go, I watched as she rolled over, groaning, and curled in on herself, then stilled. A moment passed, and her head shot up, whipping around with a frown on her face, along with a red mark shining prominently on her left cheek. What was relieving though, was the fact that her eyes had returned to her usual grey. Raising her hand to her cheek, she glared at me.

“The fuck was that for??” She whinged. “That hurt.”

“That hurt?? Then what the hell do you call this??” I raised my forearms up, accidentally flicking water everywhere, to show off the scratches and bitemarks along the skin. She gawked at them with wide eyes, but opened her mouth, outraged.

“I didn’t do that!!” She cried.

“Yes you did! For some reason you thought tonight would be a good time to play mermaids, and have been kicking and screaming ever since, all the while I’ve been trying to drag you out to stop you from drowning yourself!”

“Drag me out – ?” Looking to the side of me, her mouth hung open as she spotted the lake behind me, then down at her clothes, reaching to pull at the drenched shift that was clinging to her skin. “I was – I was in the forest!”

“The forest? What were you doing there?!” I questioned.

“I was there to ask you the same thing!” She exclaimed. “I followed you! To make sure you weren’t doing anything stupid after Bilbo had said you went for a walk. I ended up losing you for a bit when you ran after something, and when I found you looking into that giant rabbit hole, I ended up snapping that twig that scared you into falling in.” She frowned. “Then I think I blacked out, and woke up here – to you slapping the shit out of me, might I mention!” She accused, shoving a soggy finger in my direction.

My hands flew up in protest. “Yeah, cause you were acting possessed! I was walking back to Bilbo’s when I saw you standing on the bank just staring into the water like that girl from The Ring, then you fell in, and when I tried to get you out, you eyes were white and your teeth had magically become sharp for some reason!” I replied, gesturing to the shallow puncture marks in my arms. “All you had to do was grow a fish tail and I would’ve officially thought I was going mad!”

Kay stared incredulously, her mouth hanging open wide enough to catch an entire hoard of flies as she remained in a shocked silence.

“White eyes.” I nodded. “Sharp. teeth.” I nodded again.

“Would I lie about something as crazy as that?” I asked.

Slowly, she shook her head.

“So I went all demon on you?” She questioned, a guilty look on her face.

I thought for a moment. “More like feral mermaid.”

She raised her eyebrows, intrigued by that version.

“But you had no control over yourself.” I stated, and she went back to frowning, deflated at the revelation.

We both sat there, drenched hair clinging to our faces and clothes heavy and dripping with lake water. I ended up pulling a few pieces of pondweed off from where they had caught on my shoulders and legs. Flicking away a piece on my ankle, a tiny nudge of movement caught my eye, and I let out a gasp at the sight of a stick almost identical to the one I had found, held loosely in Kay’s hand. I pointed at it.

“Where did you get that?” I questioned.

She eyed me, confused, then her eyes switched to where I was pointing. Frowning deeper, she quickly brought it up to her face, examining it with wide eyes, before bringing it away and gingerly dropping it down between us.

“I have never seen this before in my life.”

We both stared at the stick as it laid on the pebble shore. Kay got startled as I then scrambled to my feet, kicking stones everywhere, and she watched as I ran along the shoreline, before skidding to a stop to grab something off the ground, and sprinting back. Flopping back onto my spot, I placed my stick next to hers, watching the realisation dawn on Kay’s face as she stared at them.

“I found mine,” I jabbed a finger at it, whilst catching my breath, “Down that rabbit hole I fell down.” Kay’s head shot up to look at me in shock. “It was sticking out of the soil, and when I tried to pull it out, the wall tried sucking me into it, a bit like how you were possessed and almost drowned when getting yours.”

Kay’s eyes glazed over as she stared, her mind most likely travelling a million miles a second as she tried to comprehend the newly revealed information.

“And mine did something.” I added slowly. “I don’t know how, but I ended up blowing a tree to smithereens with it.”

Her eyes refocused, and bore directly into mine.

“Like a wand.” She muttered.

I nodded. “Like magic.”

“There you are!”

We both screamed, jumping high in the air. I toppled over, though quickly regained myself to look up and see a very disgruntled Bilbo standing on the grass at the edge of the beach. He tapped his foot in place, his hands on his hips while a lantern sat at his feet.

“Jesus Bilbo! Where on Earth did you come from?!” I cried, clasping my chest as I tried to steady my breathing. Poor Kay looked as if she was about to cry from fright.

“I came looking for you two!” He pointed at me. “Your curfew ended two hours ago, and you!” He pointed at Kay. “You were supposed to be in bed! Imagine my panic when I found out you weren’t! And look where I find you, playing wizards in the freezing water!” He gestured to the sticks between us.

We both hung our heads, unsure on what to tell him. He looked at the two of us, and let out a long sigh, picking up his lantern.

“Right, come now. You must change out of those shifts and dry them before Mrs Greenfoot has you both by the ear.”

We stood up, both discreetly picking up the sticks and slipping them up our sleeves. Walking up to Bilbo, I grabbed my coat.

“Hurry now, can’t have you both developing an illness now.” He fussed.

“Yes mother.” I jabbed playfully as I passed him, listening amused at the sputtering match that went on behind me, before the hobbit grumbled under his breath, and ushered us along back up the path.

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

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[hellcab]

"alt!"

Enter Ares T.A. Redwood, The Snake Eater. My oldest muse and my best creation.  He’s my flagship muse, my first character for Fallout.

Ares ( in his current iteration ) is someone who suffered the human failures of history. He was there around the time America went insane. He was there when the Great War took the globe and burned the old world to a cinder. He was there for everything, one way or another, sometimes the observer and sometimes the participant. Being a ghoul affords him this longevity.

Yet, through it all, Ares survives. What’s more, his survival is marked with the killing of warlords, raider chieftains and cruel authoritarians. Through it all, he keeps his code of conduct, that evil begets killing. That A is A, that the laws of identity cannot change for anyone or anything. Evil is Evil, thusly, deserving of death. Redwood does not fight for laws, but for justice. He shares his morality with characters like The Shadow, Mr. A, and Solomon Kane.

Redwood, however, is a man struggling against fate. Despite his efforts, violence always finds him. He wants to be left alone, but the world keeps seeking him out. One way, or another, Redwood finds himself in the blood and mud of war. He fears he'll become nothing more than just violence. That all his humanity will eventually burn away.

On the surface, Redwood comes across as a cruel, pragmatic warrior. One who doesn’t win any popularity awards, or friends. But, beyond that he’s idealistic, kind even when needed. He’s a good man, who often thinks he’s the worst.

That’s Ares, that’s the man I always wanted to write. At the start, it was pretty rough. I wasn’t a good writer, thus, Ares suffered for it. But now, he’s grown alongside my writing skills. It can only get better.

[dollsonmain]

This is all I’ve peeled off so far. Most of the stickers are fine and don’t need removed and some of them that are very crooked don’t bother me because they’re on the outside of the house. One of the bed spread stickers on the bunk bed is long ago peeled a bit and dirty so won’t restick. I’ll have to put some fresh glue on it.

Um....

yeah I don’t know.

Some of those were so crooked I was too annoyed to leave it.

I got the microwave door off, but of course now I want to cut out the part that should be a window and put some plastic behind it or something, but then that would mean I have to build the inside of the microwave because it’s just a weird box right now.

I can’t figure out how to get the oven door off.

I can’t get any of the sticker residue off. Need to soak areas in T.A. to do that and kind of can’t due to the way it’s all put together.

Honestly I don’t understand the gingham stuff on top of the kitchen area. I guess it’s supposed to be wallpaper?? The only other segment of wall in there is the backsplash.

I did get the microwave door’s stress marks cleared off with the heat gun, and used the heat gun to help reset the bent faucet a little.

I’d like to paint the faucet silver but do not have any silver paint.

The phone sticker is way too small so I’ll probably try to make a new one. I don’t know if I have any sticker paper left, though. Oh, yeah, 1 letter sized sheet left... Not much margin for error.

I would like to remove the flat tea set and tulips sticker on the fireplace mantel and then sticky some tangible items there instead but then I need to do something to that wall so it’s not so blank.

But I don’t want to...... I did like Froggy’s craft foam stone wall. Maybe I could get some sticky craft foam sheets and do something like that.

Yay. More sticky.

I don’t like sticky.

HANNEDDYYYWAY now I have a little more freedom as to what colors I do things like the fridge even though the backsplash sticker is still in place and I’m not sure how to remove the oven door.

[oakenbranch]

THE HISTORY OF THORIN; A TIMELINE AND RELATING EVENTS.

here offers a brief overview of the different events marked in thorin's life from his birth to his death, as well as the coming of the messenger of morder to the gates of erebor. 't.a.' refers to the third age of middle-earth's history, in the time of the sun and the moon.

T.A. 2590: king thrór re-establishes erebor, 591 years after thráin the first founded it, and 380 years after thorin the first abandons it for the grey mountains. though the alliance between durin's folk and the kingdom of mirkwood had already been made, it is strengthened by king thrór's return. the arkenstone is discovered. in T.A. 2644, thráin the second is born.

T.A. 2746: thorin the second is born. frerin, his brother, is born in T.A. 2751, and dís, his sister, is born in T.A. 2760.

T.A. 2767: the alliance between king thrór and king thranduil is ended over a dispute of jewels.

T.A. 2770: smaug takes erebor. dale is burned. fréris, wife of thráin, is eaten by the dragon. all who can escape the mountain hide, awaiting more survivors. after a week, king thranduil arrives with a host to aid erebor. however, seeing it lost and deeming it and the dwarves without hope, he turns and leads his army back into mirkwood. while some dwarves go to the iron hills, the rest of the dwarves of erebor depart to dunland. after a few months, the remaining dwarves, led by queen durís, wife of thrór, starve to death in hiding in the mountain.

T.A. 2799: the battle of azanulbizar takes place in front of moria after months of smaller scale battles. here, king thrór and frerin are slain, and thráin is taken captive. thorin faces azog the defiler and earns his epithet. balin and dwalin fight by his side, while their father fundin is slain. lord náin, and his son dáin, arrive late to aid the house of durin. náin is slain, and dáin ironfoot, looking into the gates of moria, sees durin's bane. the battle is won, but no one is willing to enter the mountain while durin's bane still lingers. they return to dunland.

T.A. 2800: after thráin has been missing for a year, thorin is named king of durin's folk. he and his people dare to enter the realm of mirkwood, asking for food and shelter. king thranduil turns them away.

T.A. 2802: the dwarves of erebor, now led by thorin, travel to and establish themselves in the blue mountains. in T.A. 2854, dís marries víli of the blue mountains. in T.A. 2859, fíli is born, and in T.A. 2864, kíli after. víli is killed in T.A. 2875.

T.A. 2941: gandalf comes across thorin by chance at the prancing pony in bree while thorin is out looking for thráin. through gandalf's council, the quest for the lonely mountain begins. erebor is re-taken, smaug is killed, the battle of the five armies takes place, and the deaths of thorin, fíli, and kíli occur. dáin becomes king of erebor.

T.A. 3017: an emissary of mordor approaches erebor asking after a lesser ring and a certain hobbit ...

[jahnavidesai2001]

Top 10 MBA Colleges in Bangalore

Bangalore, known as the Silicon Valley of India, is not only a hub for tech companies but also home to some of the finest MBA colleges in the country. With a vibrant academic environment, top-notch faculty, and strong industry connections, pursuing an MBA here can open doors to numerous career opportunities. Whether you're a fresher or a working professional looking to upskill, here's a guide to the top 10 MBA colleges in Bangalore for 2025.

1. Indian Institute of Management Bangalore (IIMB)

Established: 1973

Accreditation: AACSB, EQUIS

Highlights: As one of the premier institutes in India, IIMB offers world-class education with a global perspective. The institute is known for its rigorous curriculum, excellent faculty, and exceptional placement records. It offers flagship programs like PGP (Post Graduate Program), Executive MBA, and various short-term courses. The exposure to international business practices, coupled with strong industry connections, makes IIMB a top choice for aspirants.

2. Xavier Institute of Management and Entrepreneurship (XIME)

Established: 1991

Accreditation: NBA, AICTE

Highlights: XIME is one of the leading B-schools in Bangalore known for its focus on entrepreneurship, leadership, and managerial skills. With a strong emphasis on practical learning and case studies, XIME offers an MBA program that nurtures future leaders. The institute has robust placement support with students getting placed in top companies across various sectors.

3. Symbiosis Institute of Business Management (SIBM) Bangalore

Established: 2008

Accreditation: AICTE

Highlights: Part of the renowned Symbiosis International University, SIBM Bangalore offers an MBA program with a special focus on innovation, leadership, and entrepreneurship. The college offers excellent industry connections, strong alumni networks, and a diverse student body. It is also known for its modern campus and vibrant student life.

4. Christ University

Established: 1969

Accreditation: NAAC ‘A’ Grade

Highlights: Christ University is a prestigious institution offering a comprehensive MBA program that focuses on all-round development, from management theory to practical applications. Known for its ethical approach to education and a strong placement record, the university provides ample opportunities for internships, live projects, and industry interactions.

5. Mount Carmel College

Established: 1948

Accreditation: NAAC ‘A’ Grade

Highlights: Known for its commitment to academic excellence, Mount Carmel College offers a well-structured MBA program with a blend of theoretical and practical learning. The college places a strong emphasis on leadership skills, entrepreneurship, and social responsibility. The serene campus and strong placement support are key highlights for students.

6. T.A. Pai Management Institute (TAPMI)

Established: 1980

Accreditation: NBA, AICTE

Highlights: TAPMI offers a dynamic MBA program known for its quality faculty and academic rigor. Located in Bangalore, TAPMI focuses on leadership, critical thinking, and strategic management. The institute is known for its rich industry relationships, excellent placements, and a strong emphasis on internships and corporate collaborations.

7. Ramaiah Institute of Management Studies (RIMS)

Established: 1995

Accreditation: AICTE

Highlights: One of the well-established institutions in Bangalore, RIMS offers an MBA program focused on business analytics, marketing, and finance. The curriculum is designed to equip students with practical and industry-ready skills. The college’s central location and strong alumni network make it an attractive choice for students looking to make a mark in the business world.

8. Dayananda Sagar Business Academy (DSBA)

Established: 2001

Accreditation: AICTE

Highlights: DSBA is a popular choice among students who seek quality education in management. With a blend of experienced faculty, industry collaborations, and modern infrastructure, DSBA offers a robust MBA program. The college also focuses on holistic development through various co-curricular activities, leadership training, and industry exposure.

9. Acharya Institute of Management and Sciences (AIMS)

Established: 1994

Accreditation: AICTE

Highlights: AIMS is known for its cutting-edge curriculum and focus on practical learning. With an emphasis on developing managerial skills, the MBA program at AIMS helps students develop leadership qualities, analytical thinking, and problem-solving abilities. The college also boasts strong placement records and a variety of industry connections to ensure successful career paths for its graduates.

10. International Institute of Business Studies (IIBS)

Established: 2001

Accreditation: AICTE

Highlights: IIBS is an emerging and dynamic business school offering MBA programs that emphasize practical exposure and industry interaction. The institute provides an excellent learning environment with experienced faculty, modern facilities, and strong corporate ties. IIBS offers specializations in areas like Marketing, Finance, Human Resources, and International Business. With consistent placement records, internships, and leadership development programs, IIBS is becoming a popular choice for MBA aspirants in Bangalore.

Conclusion

Choosing the right MBA college is a crucial decision in shaping your career. Bangalore offers a wide array of options, each with its unique strengths. From top-tier institutions like IIMB and XIME to other esteemed colleges like Christ University, Mount Carmel, and IIBS, students have a lot to choose from depending on their academic interests, career goals, and budget. Make sure to thoroughly research each program, connect with alumni, and understand the placement trends before making your decision. Best of luck in your MBA journey!

[wewerecore]

CORE presents The Co-Op 2024 - Update

We at COal REgion Pro-Wrestling would like to first thank our super sponsors for The Co-Op 2024, the United States Space Force and General Dynamics. They share CORE's commitment to bringing forward ideas that shape our world.

Thursday April 4th, 2024 - 23rd Street Armory - Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

- After thirty years The Co-Op has partnered with the National Wrestling Alliance to revive Eastern Championship Wrestling! Since the legendary Philadelphia based independent promotion closed up shop in 1994, fans have been clamoring for Eastern Championship Wrestling to return. Hardcore fans have continued to chant the initials of Eastern Championship Wrestling at events all over the globe, and finally it returns to Philadelphia for a one night stand as part of The Co-Op.

Eastern Championship Wrestling - Super Spring Sizzler Spectacular

01. Tony Stetson (with Johnny Hot Body) vs. Damien Stone 02. The Sandman vs. Miguel Perez Jr. 03. Tommy Dreamer and Johnny Gunn vs. The Dark Patriot and Jason Knight 04. Tatsumi Fujinami vs. Osamu Nishimura 05. Three Way Dance: Stevie Richards vs. 2 Cold Scorpio vs. Mikey Whipwreck 06. Eastern Championship Wrestling Heavyweight Title Match: Shane Douglas (with Mr. Hughes) vs. Tito Santana

Friday April 5th, 2024 - 23rd Street Armory - Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

- One of the most talked about matches from last year's annual wrestling week returns with a new format. Eight women will take part in a one-night tournament. The winner of the tournament will face off against Lindsay Snow in the main event. The winner of that match will not only win Lindsay Snow's Kaiju Cannabis Cup II, but will win control of this event next year! - In special non-tournament action, despite her recent success in TNA, Jody Threat still wants revenge for the vicious attack she suffered at the hands of Athena. Jody Threat has challenged Athena's top minion Billie Starkz to a grudge match. - Also in non-tournament action, Queen Aminata and Raychell Rose will defend the SHIMMER Tag Team Championship against Miu Watanabe and Rika Tatsumi.

Lindsay Snow's Kaiju Cannabis Cup II

01. Hyan vs. Kenzie Paige 02. Yuki Kamifuku vs. Alexxis Falcon 03. Killer Kelly vs. Ram Kaichow 04. Nicole Matthews vs. Jessie McKay 05. Non-Tournament: Billie Starkz vs. Jody Threat 06. Semi-Finals: X vs. X 07. Semi-Finals: X vs. X 08. SHIMMER Tag Team Championship Match: Queen Aminata and Raychell Rose (Champions) vs. Hakuchumu (Miu Watanabe and Rika Tatsumi) 09. Finals: X vs. X .0. Kaiju Cannabis Cup Match: Lindsay Snow vs. X

Saturday April 6th, 2024 - 23rd Street Armory - Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

- Jeff Jarrett's Spring Breakers returns by popular demand. Jeff Jarrett again takes the pencil from Sonjay Dutt and guarantees great wrestling action presented in a wholly unique party-like atmosphere. - Two masked tag team wrestlers calling themselves The Devil's Masked Man A and The Devil's Masked Man B have demanded a spot on this card. The Devil's Masked Men claim to be the rightful holders of the Ring Of Honor Tag Team Championship titles, according to these men they were fired from AEW for being "too dangerous" and replaced by Mike Bennett and Matt Taven. Jeff Jarrett has honored their request and they will have a chance to prove the legitimacy of their claims starting at Jeff Jarrett's Spring Breakers 2.

Jeff Jarrett's Spring Breakers 2: Port Of Call Philadelphia

01. Mikey Whipwreck and Tajiri vs. DAMNATION T.A. (Daisuke Sasaki and KANON) 02. The TrustBusters (Sonny Kiss and Slim J) vs. The Devil's Masked Man A and The Devil's Masked Man B 03. Riho vs. Rhio 04. Private Party (Isiah Kassidy and Marq Quen) vs. Schadenfreude International (Chris Brookes and Takeshi Masada) 05. Mistico, Titan, Star Jr., and Flip Gordon vs. Los Super Astros (El Merenguero/Super Loco/Jose Estrada Jr./Miguel Perez Jr.) 06. Mark Briscoe vs. Axel Tischer 07. Satnam Singh/Jay Lethal/Sonjay Dutt/Karen Jarrett/X vs. Effy/Allie Katch/Dark Sheik/Sawyer Wreck/Maki Itoh 08. Texas Chainsaw Massacre Deathmatch: Leatherface vs. Jeff Jarrett

Sunday April 7th, 2024 - 23rd Street Armory - Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

CORE Pro #127 04/07/24 White Flag 23rd Street Armory - Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

- CORE returns for the first time since Christmas night of 2023!

CORE - White Flag 01. Big Dan Champion/Joshua Bishop/Hyan/Kylie Paige vs. Hang Your Head In Shame (James Drake/Zack Gibson/Killer Kelly/Xia Brookside) 02. Nic Nemeth and Ryan Nemeth vs. folkstyle (Shaw Mason and Tim Bosby) 03. Giant Baba Yaga and Fuego Del Sol vs. "Cool Hand" Angelo Parker and Ruby Soho 04. YOICHI vs. Mad Dog Connelly 05. Hallowicked and Frightmare vs. Astronauts (Fuminori Abe and Takuya Nomura) 06. The 37KAMIINA (Yuki Ueno and MAO) vs. Starboy Charlie and Marcus Mathers 07. Queen Aminata and Raychell Rose vs. STARS (Mayu Iwatani and Momo Kohgo) 08. Konosuke Takeshita vs. Titus Alexander

Other Events:

CORE Rage Party 04/05/24 Union Transfer - Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

The biggest party you’ll ever attend! Festivities will kick-off thirty minutes after Ring Of Honor's Supercard Of Honor

Featuring live music and all your favorite wrestlers. Performances from… William Patrick Corgan's Zwan Destroyer Graham Parker CMAT And a special DJ set by Gronk!

[redrosetoberead]

Summary:

Binghe always had to have something in his mouth. Since the time Shen Yuan had met him- him a T.A. and Binghe one of his students- this one thing had sunk its teeth into Shen Yuan’s mind and refused to let go. Whether it was a pen cap littered with bite marks, or canines worrying at his lower lip, Shen Yuan could never draw his eyes away from the sight. There was nothing inherently sinful about it, nothing that should have been particularly arousing or erotic. And yet. The way he would jut out his lips when he pouted, the way those plush petals- pink and pretty and perfect- sat wet and glistening while he asked Shen Yuan to explain something to him, stirred something buried deep in Shen Yuan’s stomach.

[jolieeason]

WWW Wednesday: January 1st, 2025

WWW Wednesday is a weekly meme Sam hosts at Taking on a World of Words. The Three Ws are: What are you currently reading? What did you recently finish reading? What do you think you’ll read next? Here is what I am currently reading, recently finished, and plan to read from Thursday to Wednesday. Let me know if you have read or are planning on reading any of these books!! Happy…

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

This story started with Guthláf, Théoden’s banner bearer. To carry a flag in war was (in LOTR and real life) very dangerous, and it got me thinking about the kind of person who would willingly take on that danger and why (see here for Guthláf’s answer). And then I got thinking about what it would be like to love that kind of person and have to watch them do something so brave and glorious and selfless but also so perilous. And that brought me to Wídfara.

Like Guthláf, Wídfara exists in canon for just a few sentences. He’s from the Wold. He’s intuitive about the weather. That’s it from Tolkien. But I do so love an obscure horse boy of Rohan, and two together is even better. Here they are in part 1 of 7, where our boys have their first meeting.

August, T.A. 3017

When he’d taken a third wrong turn in as many tries, Wídfara finally decided to ask someone on the street for help. Unfortunately, getting anyone in Edoras to stop to answer his questions proved even harder than finding his own way around the city. It wasn’t that people were unfriendly or unwilling to assist, but rather that they didn’t seem to even notice him as he tentatively raised a hand or stammered out the beginnings of a greeting. Everyone walked so quickly and with such a busy sense of purpose that they were invariably four steps past him already by the time he got his first few words out.

A quick glance up at the sun told him that he was going to be late if he didn’t get himself together soon, and the last thing he wanted was to make a poor impression on his very first day. He already had enough working against him – his simple country clothing, his thick rural accent, his obvious cluelessness in navigating his way around, all of which marked him clearly as an outsider – and he didn’t need his new éored thinking that he was careless or unreliable on top of everything else. He shifted his pack on his back, hastened his steps around another corner and felt a wash of relief at the sight of a garrison complex with the king’s banner flying in front.

An older man, clad to the waist in armor and standing with a rigid military bearing, waited on the front steps of the central building, just under the banner. His eyes scanned all the passersby, and when they landed on Wídfara they lit up with a spark of intuited recognition. The rigidity melted away in an instant, and he beckoned Wídfara over with a smile and a welcoming wave.

“I’m on the lookout for a new rider just in from the East-mark, and I would bet my horse that you’re him. And right on time, too. My name is Elfhelm.”

Wídfara dropped his pack and stood to attention. For all that he didn’t know about Edoras, he certainly knew the name of Elfhelm, the commander of the garrison and the functional First Marshal of the Mark any time the king himself wasn’t present. “Yes, Marshal. I just arrived in the city last night. My name is Wídfara, sir.”

Elfhelm’s bushy eyebrows shot upward at the distinctive heavy twang of Wídfara’s words. “The Third Marshal told me he was sending us a real country boy, and I see that he wasn’t exaggerating. Where exactly are you from, son?”

Elfhelm’s open, casual manner took Wídfara by surprise. Back home, his captain had been a rather grim man, one who never spoke an unnecessary word or showed his riders even a hint of his own personality, and Wídfara had expected the leaders of Edoras, some of the most powerful in the kingdom, to be even more stern. But yet again, it seemed, he simply had no understanding of how life in the capital actually worked. “I’m born and raised in the Wold, Marshal,” he answered. “My family has run herds out there for generations. It’s quite…” He glanced around at the bustling rush of people moving in and out of the collection of buildings around them. “It’s different from the city.”

Elfhelm nodded with a sympathetic smile. “Well, that’s certainly true. I imagine that Edoras can seem a little overwhelming at first to someone who’s spent his whole life in a place like the Wold. And an éored reordering is never easy on anyone. Saying goodbye to the people and places you’ve always known is a rough task.”

Wídfara swallowed hard on the lump that immediately formed in his throat. It had been less than a week since he’d been forced to say those goodbyes, gathered together with family and friends and brothers-in-arms out near his old post in the plains where the Limlight joined the Anduin. The Wold had never been a thickly populated area – the land was too unforgiving, the semi-nomadic lifestyle of the herdsmen too harsh – but as more and more families moved out of the grasslands and into the East-mark’s larger settlements and towns, an independent éored for the Wold had become increasingly unsustainable. No one had been particularly surprised when the reordering was announced, but it had been painful nonetheless and especially so for Wídfara. Because while his friends were reassigned to one of the three surrounding éoreds in the Eastemnet, all within a few hours ride of home, he had been singled out for transfer to Edoras, a place so foreign to him that it might as well have been Dunland or Rhûn.

His face seemed to betray some of his thoughts to Elfhelm, who put a large, comforting hand on Wídfara’s shoulder. “Change can be tough, son, but it also presents opportunity. And you’ve been given a golden one here. It’s not often that someone gets called up to the king’s éored – I can only remember one other time that it happened, and my memory stretches back longer than you’ve been alive. But your old captain was adamant that there isn’t a finer mounted bowman in all of Rohan and it would be a waste to just reassign you to yet another remote outpost. If you’re even half as good as the men of the East-mark claim, you can make a real name for yourself here.”

Wídfara felt his face grow hot, and he looked down at his feet. No one had told him how this transfer had come to be, and the thought of that dour, taciturn captain singing his praises to anyone was almost more than he could believe. And while he was proud of his own talent, he felt an instinctual urge to defend against the implication that the other riders of the Wold were any less skillful. “Everyone who grew up where I did learned early to shoot from a moving horse, sir,” he offered. “A herd will always attract wolves.”

Elfhelm chuckled. “That may be so, but your captain didn’t convince the Third Marshal of the Mark to send just any old herdsman to us. He picked you. Try to remember that.” A bell behind him tolled, and he glanced toward the door over his shoulder. “I need to get back to some other business, so we’d best get you on your way. You’ll be living in Barracks A with the other unmarried men of the company. You can drop your belongings there and then head over to the armorer to get everything you need. Training starts tomorrow at sunrise.”

“Thank you, Marshal.”

Elfhelm was already halfway out of sight before Wídfara realized that he had no idea how to find either Barracks A or the armorer. He considered calling after Elfhelm for help, but the marshal had indicated that he was busy and surely his other tasks were more important than giving basic directions to an ill-informed newcomer. Instead, he reshouldered his pack with a sigh, resigned to wandering the complex until chance took pity on him again, and he took a few hesitant steps toward his left.

“Other way, Wídfara!”

He looked up to see Elfhelm watching him from the doorway, one foot already inside and the door itself held open with his elbow. The older man laughed and nodded in the opposite direction. “Second building on the right. Can’t miss it.”

A furious blush rushed back to Wídfara’s cheeks, and he winced as he felt it spread across his ears and neck. “Sorry, Marshal. I’m still…I’ll learn my way quickly, I promise.”

Elfhelm stepped back outside, allowing the door to close behind him as he walked a few paces toward Wídfara again. “It’s alright to be new, son. You just need someone to help show you the way of things here.” He cast an appraising eye over Wídfara and chewed thoughtfully on his bottom lip for a moment. “Keep an eye out for Guthláf. He’s from Edoras, but his mother grew up in the Eastemnet and he spent much of his childhood out there. He even talks a lot like you do. You’ll like him, and he’ll help you get to feeling like home again.” He turned once more to head inside.

“Marshal Elfhelm?” Wídfara called after him. “How do I find him? Guthláf, I mean.”

Elfhelm looked back over his shoulder and smiled. “Anywhere there are people gathered, he’ll be right in the middle of it. You can count on that. He’s one of our best, and he’ll take good care of you. Just don’t let him talk you into playing dice with him unless you’ve got money to burn.” He pulled open the door and his last few words drifted out from the hallway. “See you at training first thing tomorrow!”

Wídfara rolled over again, grimacing as his left shoulder made contact with the floor. One of his first tasks that day had been to see the garrison’s armorer, where he had been fitted for new equipment and received the distinctive tattoo that would identify him as a member of the king’s éored: a small crown above a hill. Each éored had its own mark, used as a crude means of identification in the event that a rider was injured or killed far from home, and the armorers typically etched the designs onto the shoulders of new members, punching a small ink-tipped needle repeatedly into the skin to create the necessary lines and curves. The new tattoo left a lingering pain in Wídfara’s arm, though it was minimal compared to the ache he felt in his heart when he watched the armorer draw a line through his old éored’s mark, casually crossing out an entire decade of his life with a few minute’s quick work. But that had just been the start to an increasingly difficult day.

The éored’s clerk seemed unaware that Wídfara had joined the company, and no arrangements had been made yet for his pay. Wídfara was counting on those funds to support his parents back in the Wold, especially now that he was no longer close enough to help his father with the herd work during his free hours, and the possibility that his first wages would be significantly delayed left a sour feeling in his stomach. Then he had gotten lost on his way to the mess hall and again between the mess hall and the stables, where he discovered that the stablehand sent to fetch his horse from last night’s boarding house had brought back the wrong animal. At every turn, he seemed to be in the wrong place, with the wrong information, running into obstacle after obstacle while being constantly asked to repeat himself as the city dwellers struggled to understand his accent.

He had greeted the eventual coming of night with urgent relief, happy to retreat to the privacy of his little room in the barracks where, at least for a few hours, he knew where he was supposed to be and what he was supposed to be doing. But even then, he struggled. The small, soft bed in the room felt unnatural to him after so much time spent sleeping rough in field camps or out on the plains with his family’s horses, and he quickly gave up on it, crafting himself a makeshift bedroll on the floor instead. After an hour of further tossing and turning, though, he realized that the bed wasn’t the only thing that felt wrong. A windowless box barely big enough for both the empty bed and his nest of blankets on the floor was a poor substitute for having shimmering stars overhead and endless golden plains around him, and he wondered how he would ever find rest in such a confined little space. He sat up, frustrated, and decided to take a walk in an attempt to clear his mind.

The streets, at least, were much more enjoyable to him at night, when few others were out and about. It was quieter, and he could walk at his own pace without worrying that he was holding up someone behind him. Keeping close attention to where he turned and how to retrace his steps, he headed up a hill, thinking to get a good view of the city from the top of the rise and perhaps be able to better orient himself amidst the maze of the city’s layout.

It took only a few minutes from the barracks to reach the peak of the hill, but he was disappointed to find that the view down onto Edoras and the surrounding plains was largely obscured by a thin haze in the air and heavy overhead cloud cover that dimmed the light of the moon. The quiet of his walk was also broken by the presence on the hill of a small tavern, a little wood and stone building from which drifted not only the smell of ale and baked bread but the clamor of voices and laughter and singing. The windows were aglow with warm yellow light, and he could see a large and boisterous crowd inside, many members of which seemed to be about his age. He considered going in – his rational mind understood that the only way to make friends in new surroundings was to put himself where other people were – but the thought of dozens of bodies pressed into such a small building made him a bit panicky, and he had already used all the energy his mind could spare that day for navigating the stares, questions and sometimes the judgments of so many others. That would need to be a challenge for tomorrow instead.

He leaned against a corner of the tavern and gazed northeast, back toward the beloved home that was now obscured by the intervention of both distance and weather. A gentle breeze blew from that direction, and he closed his eyes to savor the soft feel of it against his cheek and in his hair. There was a clean, earthy scent to the air, and he willed himself to believe that this sign of a clearer morning on its way could also mean that good things were on their way for him.

At that very moment, the door of the tavern flew open, bouncing noisily off the wall, and a tiny gray dog scampered out, followed by the striding figure of a man in the uniform of his éored.

“I just need to let Slaga out for a minute,” the man called back to unseen companions inside. “Hold the game for me, and I’ll be right back to finish taking the rest of your money.” A laughing chorus of boos rang out as the door swung closed again, and the man chuckled to himself.

Wídfara registered the stranger’s words as they were spoken, but what flooded his heart with joyful recognition was the lilting drawl of their delivery, the comfortingly specific cadence and tone that represented Rohirric as Wídfara’s ear had always heard it voiced. It was the sound of his cousins calling to him from across the grasslands, his friends teasing and joking as they sat around a fire at night. It was the sound of his old life, and he wanted nothing more than to hear it again.

The other man was crouched down now, cooing affectionate endearments at the tiny dog that bounded in adoring circles around his feet, and Wídfara lightly cleared his throat. The man froze at the sound, the last doting little trill dying on his tongue, and he smiled sheepishly when he looked up and saw Wídfara standing just feet away. “I’m sorry. I thought Slaga and I were alone out here or I surely would have kept that to myself.” He stood and extended his hand in Wídfara’s direction. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. I’m Guthláf.”

Guthláf. The name chimed immediately in Wídfara’s memory, and he smiled to himself at how effortlessly correct Elfhelm had been on all fronts – where Guthláf would be found, how soothingly familiar he would sound to Wídfara, and how quickly just a few words of that familiar sound would kindle a feeling of comfort and kinship in him. He closed the distance between them with a few steps, and in the dim light that shone from the windows he found himself face to face with an unusually tall, well built man with long blonde waves, a trim blonde beard, and striking eyes of the palest blue. He gripped Guthláf’s hand with grateful enthusiasm and smiled. “Wídfara. You wouldn’t have seen me before, as I only just got here.”

“I certainly don’t have to ask where you came from,” Guthláf said, and Wídfara thought he detected a slight strengthening of Guthláf’s matching accent in the reply. “Welcome to Edoras, Wídfara. What brings you here?”

Wídfara nodded at Guthláf’s uniform. “I’ll be joining your company starting first thing tomorrow.”

“Is that right? We’ll be glad to have you. The boys could use an eastern rider to show them how it’s really done.” He glanced down briefly at the dainty little dog that was now cautiously sniffing Wídfara’s boots. “Don’t hold it against me. The absurd fussing with the dog, I mean. Every man has an embarrassing weakness, and I guess Slaga is mine.”

“Think nothing of it.” Truthfully, in any other circumstance Wídfara would have found both the toy-sized dog and the indulgent spoiling of it a little ridiculous, but he wasn’t about to say that to the first person in the city to take any interest in him. Outside of Elfhelm, who as Wídfara’s commanding officer was certainly no peer of his, it had been a struggle that day just to be noticed by anyone else, let alone engaged with or welcomed. Wídfara was eager not to squander this opportunity, especially with someone who seemed so friendly and good natured. “I love dogs and have nearly always had one myself, though admittedly never one that size.”

“He is small, isn’t he? I got him when he was a puppy and expected him to get bigger as he got older, but he just never did. And by the time I realized I had myself a lapdog, the rascal had already worked his way into my heart.” He bent down and scooped Slaga up into his arms, where he quickly settled with the look of one who spent a lot of time in just that position. Wídfara reached out and gave the dog a gentle rub behind the ears, which was received with a small, contented sigh.

“He doesn’t usually like strangers,” said Guthláf, looking up with a smile. “But then again, you’re not a stranger anymore, are you, Wídfara of the East-mark?”

Wídfara couldn’t identify anything unusual or remarkable about the way this question was asked, nothing that would explain the sudden rush of warmth that settled over him when that open, earnest smile was turned in his direction. But it was there all the same. “Not a stranger, at least not in the technical sense. And I would hope one day to be a friend, though I wouldn’t presume to call you that yet.”

“No? Why not?”

“You barely know anything about me.”

“But that’s not a problem. Discovering things about each other is half the fun of friendship.” He inclined his head and fixed Wídfara with a long, thoughtful look. “And I have a feeling there is much to discover about you.”

The steady gaze of those cool, blue eyes sent an anxious flutter shimmering through Wídfara’s chest, and he looked away. Before he could muster the nerve to speak again, the tavern door opened, and a red-haired head popped out.

“Guthláf, if the game doesn’t restart soon, Hildred insists he’ll take his losses back and charge you interest for making him wait.”

Guthláf laughingly rolled his eyes and waved a hand in concession. “Buy him another ale from my pot and tell him I’ll be right there.” The red haired man nodded and went back inside, and Guthláf turned once again to Wídfara.

“Do you ever play dice? If you’ve got the time now, you can join us, and by the end of the game you’ll have ten more great friends, I promise. Though I can’t promise I won’t take your money.” He waggled his eyebrows. “I’m something of a professional.”

Wídfara laughed. “Believe it or not, I’ve already been warned against playing dice with you, and I don’t know the rules anyway. But I appreciate the offer.” The temptation to stay in the kindly glow of Guthláf’s company was strong, but the tumult of the busy tavern still intimidated him. And the length of the day, with its many ups and downs, was beginning to catch up with him at last. “Will I…or, rather, I hope I’ll see you at training in the morning?”

He cringed inside at how needful the question sounded to his ears, but if Guthláf heard it that way he gave no sign. Instead, he smiled broadly and tapped a fist against Wídfara’s arm.

“Of course. I’ll look for you there, friend. Now wish me luck, not that I need it!” He and his dog slipped back inside with a wave, and Wídfara watched through the window just long enough to see them disappear into a rowdy group of men, all wielding mugs and talking excitedly to one another.

Alone again, he turned then to retrace his steps, mercifully finding his way back to the barracks without incident, and he stretched out once more on his floor with a heavy yawn. The weight of sleep closed in on him quickly, and he soon drifted into the comfort of peaceful rest, where a pair of the palest blue eyes lingered in his dreams.

Link to part 2!

Notes: Guthláf’s dog is named Slaga, which means “Killer.” Presumably he chose that name before he realized his “puppy” was already full grown and would always be a lil’ tea cup.

@emmanuellececchi @konartiste @sotwk @dreambigdreamz (I don’t usually have a tag list but I tried to @ people who had specifically requested it at some point — if you want off (or on, I guess) don’t hesitate to say so!)

Dividers by the lovely @quillofspirit ♥️

[amid-ice-and-snow]

Halrë Vatari

Halrë only ever knew Gondolin as he was too young to remember much about his actual home, despite having been born in Aman. His family came from a line of Blacksmiths/Weapon-crafters but they were secretive and often known as mysterious, for they tended to work alone. After losing all of his family through the years, he became more isolated out of his work, only really interacting with Turgon and Glorfindel.

A wanderer by nature, he returned from his travels at the request of his King to help primarily with the weapons for the Last Alliance. Not many actually knew what his true name was, for he went only by Ihain. Although he preferred working in the forges, Halrë was a dual sword user and his height meant that he often saw attackers long before they actually saw him.

“Sometimes being yourself is more difficult than expected, especially with no memories.”

After Sauron’s defeat, no one saw him again and it was often thought that he had died in battle like so many others. That was proven wrong in T.A. 830 when he was found near the Grey Havens with amnesia and nothing but the tools of a blacksmith on him. It was also documented by the healers that when asked what he remembered, Halrë could only shrug and say that all he recalled was fighting, gate of hell (Black Gate), an alliance of Men and Elves, before pain and just nothing afterwards.

Although Cirdan recognised him, his name was lost to time and his own lack of memories. He couldn’t exactly go around being called Ihain though, so in recognition of many thinking that he was just a ghost at first, the Grey Haven elves called him Ferne.

Basic

TRUE NAME Halrë Vatari

MEANING/S Halla = Tall | Rë = Wanderer | Varne = wild | Tary* = crafter

NICKNAMES lhain = Free in old Noldorin | Half feral blacksmith

ALIAS Ferne Olorel - due to amnesia

AGE Not known precisely but younger then Glorfindel

DATE OF BIRTH Evening before the Trees were destroyed

PLACE OF BIRTH Aman

RACE Elf | Noldor

GENDER & PRONOUNS Male | He/him

ORIENTATION Demi

THREAT LEVEL Isn’t one to annoy.

Physical

HEIGHT 7ft5

WEIGHT It tends to fluctuate depending on how long he’s been in his workshop and has forgotten to eat.

EYE COLOUR Slate grey at first | But over time, his eyes started to reflect and eventually became the colour of silver.

HAIR COLOUR Midnight black with random streaks of white | Straight & falls to his waist when loose. Generally tied back so he can see what he’s doing in the forge.

DOMINANT HAND Right

DISTINGUISHING FEATURES His height is what people notice first. Then his eyes.

SCAR(S) Various little scars & burn marks due to being a blacksmith. Scar running across his chest from right shoulder to left hip. Multitude of different sized scars across his back, gained during the years he was thought to be dead.

Background & Misc

HOMETOWN Gondolin | The only true home he would ever have

CURRENT RESIDENCE The road

LANGUAGE(S) Westron, Sindarin & sign language

PAST RELATIONSHIP Kirya Ilmalire | mother to the twins & his partner from T.A 1000 until her death in T.A 2971

CHILD(REN) Taenil Ilmalire & Teldran Ilmakalle (Twins)

ANIMAL COMPANION White mountain wolf | He saved it as a cub & it followed him ever since.

CRAFT: Blacksmith | Family heritage

HOBBIES Travelling, teaching, sketching, Whittling wooden figures and flutes

ELEMENT Earth

MAIN WEAPONS Two nearly 7ft swords

SECONDARY WEAPONS Knives and daggers

Personality

MORAL ALIGNMENT Neutral | more Dark then Light but rarely shows it

TEMPERAMENT Patient, calm, natural peacekeeper although rather isolated | Taenil has his temperament

ANGER Much like a hurricane | Slow to build but you’d better hide once he hits his limit

LIKES Wandering, seeing his sons, camping under the stars, visiting the Longbeard Dwarves & helping with children

DISLIKES People being silly near the forges, his lack of memories, being disturbed whilst he’s working on a project & slave traders.

QUIRKS Hides unusually well in the shadows for someone of his height

DRINKS Rarely | Isn’t that fond of alcohol.

SELF DESTRUCTIVE? No. Unless you count forgetting to eat and sleep while working on projects | Would prefer to put himself in danger than others

[mingi-bubu]

Scenario Updates~

KPop Scenarios

I've moved the Mingi birthday trilogy into one document, so that means I can make some headway into the rest of my Taehyung T.A. au, and get started on my Mark high school au.

I have my seventeen hockey au also sort of done. I need to take another look at it again, and finish talking about the members.

And speaking of hockey, I am going to redo/finish the NCT U hockey au I created because of the “90's Love” MV.

I have a sort-of follow-up to the fledgling vampire!tyong au I posted a while back that involves other members and the creatures they are. Yes, this is just an excuse for me to talk about selkie!Hendery and basilisk!Ten.

I, of course, still have my Doyoung and Mingyu university aus that I'm working on/super need to finish. Not to jinx myself, but I really think I might get either of them done this month. Probably Doie's bc his has a lot more written than Gyu's.

I have a Taeyong enemies to lovers university scenario started, and I'm kind of loving the #bants between Johnny and YN.

My VAV Jacob university au is also probably going to come back again. Because I miss talking about my guys. And also Cobi hot. a;ldfkjsdlk

I have changed the Younghoon x reader x Hongjoong into a Younghoon x reader x Mingi. …okay, well, in my mind it's been changed. I have to actually implement it in the story.

And then I have a Junhee uni au that I started in like. September of 2020 that I promptly forgot existed after I got five paragraphs in.

CPop Scenarios

I moved all the QCYNarios into one document, so it should be easier for me to start writing them again.

I am also going to be updating the ones that are already posted to fix grammar, mainly. But I am also going to be fixing parts of it that I think are weaker.

Out of all 20 QCYNarios, a strong majority are either in-progress or yet to be written.

In my Xunario alternate ending where YN chooses Mingming instead, I have four parts of it. Two and a half are done, but I'm waiting to finish all four before posting it sequentially each week. So, like, one per week until it's all posted. I'm enjoying going back into this universe where I'm focusing on it and not the threads that stem from it.

Both

Fictober22 & 76 Kisses are both still in progress

Fictober22 has only a few left that I haven't started. A majority of them, though, are all still in progress.

76 Kisses has so many that are open to be claimed. I have a feeling that a few of the last prompts are going to become fanfic prompts, not scenario ones..

[blueguitar]

THE ETHNOMUSICOLOGIST

or

“A SONG OUR PEOPLE SING”

          At least, I hadn't gotten as far as trying to publish...

     My T.A.? Immediately, she realized my mistake.  “Um,” she ventured, “That song, that 'song our people sing'?  That's Cher.  It's called 'Do You Believe In Love' – it's an interesting take on it, anyway... “

     Then, she sang to me in a rich, lesbian baritone, “Do yoo-ooo bee-leeve in a life after love? (after love? after love? after love?)” adding. “I can't believe you've never heard it before?”

     Well, I'd been away was my excuse.  I'd spent the last nine months in the Amazon rain forest being bitten by insects as big as my thumb.  The Amazon rain forest is a long way away from American Top 40, but apparently, not far enough away.

     And in three and a half minutes?  Not only had the last nine months of my research seemingly melted like a snowcone in the sun? But also, my every ambition – my every reason for striving, becoming, working, being an ethnomusicologist dried up, too.  That I wasn't reduced to tears right then?  Well, FUCK ME!

     It took time for it to sink in.

     I collected my notes, my photos, my recordings... and I excused myself.

     Driving back to my apartment, I stopped for a pack of cigarettes at the Citgo.  I was still enjoying the headiness, the sheer thrill of, not just American cigarettes, but my usual brand – Camel Lights.  But at the counter where it took me three tries to get the – Indian? Pakistani? - gentleman to understand which Camels I wanted, I idly spun a carousel of “cassingles” and one was Cher.  Cher's “Do You Believe In Love?”  At $1.99, it was cheaper than my pack of cigs.

     I mean, Jesus!!! I had done the math!  Almost an entire month of sleepless nights notating my field recordings.  From A = 440? however many steps, half-steps, quarter-steps in lovely black marks on the empty staves on blank staff paper.  Doing my very best to perfectly notate the Opackoo adolescents' every warble that reproduced quite well every Auto-tuned glissandi of this goddamned elderly “diva”.  Switching from Deck A to Deck B, Deck A to Deck B... A to B?  It was the same song, the same goddamned song!

     Over the next few days, I reviewed my research and every note, every story, every photo was suddenly suspect.  But I was told, I was informed – the Opackoo were remote.  THEY told me – the Opackoo told me! they had never left the rain forest...

     The Opackoo boys called me “Shaw-ma Fagga”.  I took it as a corruption of my title and my last name.  I am Dr. Farragut.

     “Shaw-ma” = Medicine Man = Doctor.

     Farragut = “Fagga”.

     But were they really calling me a fag?

     I have to admit I really don't have a facility for languages.  It's part of the core curriculum, for sure, but I barely passed first-year Spanish.  I took a detour in French – miserable -  and returned to Spanish where I barely squeaked by.  But when I was introduced to the Opackoo?  I felt like I had finally “got it”! and the nine months I spent among them was certainly “immersive”.  While the Elders of the tribe wouldn't have much to do with me, the boys and the girls? They WELCOMED me!

     The boys told me, “This a is a song our people sing.”  They told me, “This is a song about a girl who kisses a boy and her “father” (? - this may also be “tribal leader” or “elder”; they use this word a lot!) sees this and he sends her to live with the unmarried women and the boy is very sad.”

     This is not very different from the plot of an episode of “The Simpsons” I saw on TV in my first months back from the rain forest.  I can't merely think it was a coincidence anymore.

     But, the song? It MOVED me!  I can still see in my mind the boys standing in a clearing - their skin glowing near green in the mottled light sifting through the canopy – covering their genitals with their hands and smiling and singing.  SMILING!  It moved me.

     Now, I look at my pictures and I don't know what I see?   I don't know - I just don't know.

     When I tell people I'm an ethnomusicologist – I get blank stares – as if I suddenly started speaking Russian or told people I eat children.  Once, this woman I met at the bar asked me, “So, you collect BUGS?” and found someone else to talk to pretty quickly. I had thought we were really hitting it off up to then!

     I look at my photos I took then and their “coverings”, “costume” - made from vines and leaves and mud – suddenly don't look a whole lot different from crap I'd seen in MTV videos when I was in Junior High.

     I read back my notes and see where I had written that the Opackoo youth are “gregarious and easy to laugh” and I can only wonder: were they always just barely disguising they were laughing at me?

     That girl at the bar – she was really pretty, you know? - asked me if I collect bugs.  I may as well have said yes.  While another guy might've spent his life suffocating giant green and black beetles in jars and pinning them in shadow boxes? I have spent my entire life searching for the true music – the REAL thing!  And I discover Cher.  It may be that there is very little of the real thing left, you know.  Or it may be that Cher is no less “authentic” than any other music, Pygmy or Albanian.  I NEED to ask myself again – what is it that I am in search of?

     In the sciences, they always warn you about “Uncertainty Principle”.  In physics, the question is whether light is a wave or a particle.  Is Schrodinger's cat dead or alive? Right?

     In the social sciences, you are always warned how examining a culture can essentially change  what it is.  And I wouldn't be the first researcher to be taken for a ride.  Margaret Mead's “Coming Of Age In Samoa” was ground-breaking in her day, but now we know she really didn't discover “free love” in Samoa.  Like I did, she discovered that it may be a global fact that teenagers are disdainful of adults and forever and always bored!  She was lied to, too.

     I haven't given up on my field, you know.  I may only have to change my perspective...

     Maybe I don't need to be in a rain forest to find the true music, the REAL thing!  Maybe it's all around me, you know?

     And for tonight?  I need to get out, go to the bar for a drink and who knows?

     Margaret Mead once said:

     “One of the oldest human needs is having someone wonder where you are when you don't come home at night.”

     And she was absolutely right! Tonight, I am done for a minute with the big, stupid questions – I'm off to the bar for a drink…

Cher is often credited as the first artist to popularize Auto-Tune with her 1998 hit "Believe."