#but: VOID INBOUND

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

y'all i DID it i MADE it i FINISHED A NANO and ACTUALLY HAD FUN THIS YEAR!!! learned MANY thing!!!! formal wrap-up post to follow (tomorrow)(when i can get a decent pic on my desk in daylight)

[wolven91]

Drifting - Part 15 (Epilogue)

Casper's time in the void was shorter than usual.

Even without the evidence of passing time, there had always been a period where the young man settled into the distinctly unsettling feeling of nothingness. He'd said his goodbyes to Spectre the first, a geckin mech that had served him well, but would not follow him wherever he went now. It was geckin's property after all. After that, he powered down and had keyed for his casket to be ejected slowly, rather than be fired like an artillery shell to get him away from the current threat.

The moment he disconnected from the machine, he was plunged back into the dark, however, he didn't get a chance to 'settle' before light and sound returned. Casper was used to this now, it was always harsh to return to the real world, it hurt and was confusing as his mind reconnected with the various senses of his body once more.

There was a roaring din that deafened him immediately, even more so than normal. Before he could open his eyes, something was pressed over them. It covered the front half of his face and looped over his ears and behind his head, an elastic band holding the soft material firmly in place. The hands that manipulated him were careful, supporting his head and placing it back down, rather than letting Casper drop. The young man squinted, preparing for the pain of harsh bright light.

Instead, it was muted.

There were lights overhead and shadows and silhouettes that blocked it briefly as they moved around his casket, but the darkened, translucent material that covered his eyes prevented that stab of pain as his eyes, used to the dark, adjusted to the real world again. As he considered this, the dark figure slipped a set of earmuffs over his head and pulled a mic down, so it comfortably touched his lip. A deafening roar that Casper hadn't even begun processing yet died and he was left in a far more comfortable state.

Wherever Casper lay, rocked from side to side, the whole crew reacting and stumbling to the right, then left. However, the silhouette that was crouched over Casper reached out his hands and prevented the human's head from hitting the edge of the casket.

"We got you buddy, you,okay? You hurt?" Asked an unknown voice, the voice coming over clear and precise through the headset.

"Where's Qik?"

"She's fine buddy, let's get you sorted first, then we can see her, yeah?"

Casper nodded as he felt the casket being peeled away from his bottom half. The shadow over him turned his head and Casper caught sight of a pair of long ears, clipped back and out of the stranger's way as he spoke to someone else.

"Vitals are thready, looks like we need fluids, do we know how much these guys are supposed to weigh?" There was a pause. "Alright, just ensure we get transport when we land. Hey buddy!" The voice spoke to Casper once more. "Can you touch your fingertips for me? Like this?" The stranger made a familiar gesture, touching his thumbs to his fingertips in series. Casper knew this exercise.

Casper raised his hands, wincing as his skin once again felt sore in the open air, and tried to copy the speaker. The young human grit his teeth in frustration as he couldn't see to command his digits correctly, the thumb either not moving or seemingly not obeying.

"It's okay buddy, you looked like you hurt for a second there. Can you tell me where it hurts?"

"It's m-my skin. It's-it's fine, it'll calm down." Casper explained, trying to reassure the speaker. The shadow turned his head again, touching a hand to his own headset.

"Bird Two medical to hanger. Inbound thirty seconds, unknown species, pulse is thready, we got casket burn, subject is disorientated and likely severely malnourished. Get a bath ready." The rocking of whatever transport Casper was on board intensified before a firm judder ceased all further movement for the machines.

There was a flurry of activity as the crews that worked within the confined space of the vehicle seemingly all had jobs to do. A new lopel appeared above Casper and apparently was attempting to wheel him away.

"Can I see Qik?" Casper asked, feeling helpless as his legs merely twitched when he attempted to move them. He was utterly vulnerable in the hands of a whole new set of people and beings. The radio in his headset crackled and a familiar voice spoke to him. It was as if her lips were right next to his ear as she spoke, relieving him of his worries.

"I'm here Casper, I'm here. Just a few feet to your left. Lay back, these guys will do the work. Just relax, okay?" She asked gently. Casper tensed his whole body and sat upright, much to the surprise and mild panic of the lopel that was still half crouched, half sat on the shell of Casper's pilot casket. As the human raised his head and cleared the lip of the sarcophagus, he saw Qik was doing the same, a black headband was over her head too providing her welder's goggles and an oddly shaped headset with mic covering her ears.

She gave him a grin and a small wave that turned into a thumbs up. As always, she seemed untouched by the machine's drained aura.

"O-okay..." Casper replied, relieved to hear her voice and lay back down, much to the approval of the lopel that was being wheeled along with Casper. He was the spitting image of Qik, only instead of brown fur, he was a bright grey, with the exception of his hands, face and the lining of his ears, which had white fur.

"Are you friends with Qik buddy?" He asked with a still light tone, but with a hint of scepticism. Casper nodded his head, feeling tired, he laid his head back into the gel head rest of the casket and closed his eyes, releasing a tension he didn't realise that he'd been holding. The grey lopel touched the top of one his blunt claws to Casper's shoulder, waking him, the grey alien wore an impish grin.

"Took me four years before Qik started talking to me! You cooperate with the docs that we're about to meet and I'll trade you an embarrassing story about her at the bar, deal?" Casper couldn't help but match the creature's mischievous smile, which only broadened as the hot mic and headset was immediately bombarded with Qik's heated voice.

"You asshole! I'll cut your ears off!"

Casper couldn't help but join in with the laughter of the crew who were obviously also listening to the exchange. The grey lopel hopped down off the casket as he introduced a new set of lopels, who would then look after the human.

== 0 ==

It was nearly an hour and a half later before Casper saw Qik again.

The door hissed open, and Casper turned from the window from which he was staring out of, he couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his face seeing her.

She was dressed in a set of clothes that Casper had never seen before. Gone was her signature Nerve Suit which she had worn under her jacket at any point that she wasn't undressed completely. Now she wore grey, for lack of a better term, lounge wear. It looked comfortable and baggy, although the waistband hugged her hips pleasantly. She did, however, still have on her jacket, reassuring him more than he realised. It was a slice of 'normal' while everything was unfamiliar.

"You get your bath?" She asked casually, strutting across the comfortably warm room with the peculiar lopel gait that reminded the young man of runway models. Casper nodded; his hair was still shaved close to his skull so it had long since air dried but was still dressed in nothing but a fluffy black bathrobe. He previously had every intention of donning the perhaps oversized jogging bottoms and shirt that had been laid on 'his' bed by someone unseen while he was freshening up in the bathroom.

"Yeah, I was going to get dressed but I got distracted." He explained, gesturing at the large window that showed the pair of them outer space.

Qik merely 'hummed' in agreement as stepped up next to the shorter human. Beyond the 'glass', was a purple and red nebula, frozen in time as they swirled together creating a beautiful display that had simply awed the man.

"You didn't get bored of all this going to the Geckin worlds?" She asked, still gazing out the glass. She gestured to the amazing display before looking down at him with an easy smile. Casper couldn't help but give her a smile back, his eyes wrinkling in the corner as he turned back to the cosmic event.

"No... I just kept to myself to be honest. Didn't have a window seat. It's... I don't know I don't have words." He explained honestly, he felt breathless, almost nervous, but couldn't put his finger on why.

"Remind me to show you the observation deck tomorrow." Qik offered quietly, slipping her thumbs into her waistline, and seemingly settling into a comfortable silence. Casper joined her a moment, before a frown flashed across his face, turning to her.

"Tomorrow? Why not today?" He asked, genuinely curious.

"You really feel up to talking to a hundred different people? You're the hot topic Casper. New species, new pilot. Even a few rumours of you besting me in a fight." Qik explained, an accusatory eyebrow rose to the ceiling as she side eyed him. Their initial fight was a sore spot for Qik, this Casper knew. He'd promised almost immediately afterwards to take the event to his grave and turned to her to offer his full attention.

"I swear I didn't say anything to anyone. I know about your reputation and-" A palm clamped over his mouth, silencing him quite effectively.

"Shut it." She demanded, releasing him, and touching the tip of his nose with a single finger.

"I know you didn't say anything. But my rig had a new head. A new head is a sign of someone taking your head off. The engineering crew are rather protective of their work and notice when someone's touched a single bolt, let alone replaced the whole thing. Don't worry, Just feign ignorance. But if you're up for crowds, I don't mind taking you to see the stars."

In hindsight, that sounded like more than what Casper felt up to. He still felt drained and tired. He knew himself well enough that interacting with strangers right now was ill advised. Still... he didn't want to miss the views.

"How long is our journey? Am I likely to miss anything?"

Qik snorted and turned from the window, resting her rump against the table that sat underneath it.

"Hardly. We're on our way to the next closest station, that'll be a five- or six-day trip. We'll trade, sniff for jobs, and get some free time. Plenty of time for you to star gaze."

Casper turned back to the window and squinted as he saw something move against the black. It was small, but just big enough to make it out.

"Hey, there's a ship out there!" At Casper's alert, Qik hummed curiously and turned her head, narrowing her eyes before turning back to the human.

"Don't worry, that's one of ours. Looks like a point defence platform. We're on the carrier, holding all the mechs and a slew of hanger space with repair docks for anything and everything. Problem is, we're a sitting duck on our own." She thrust a thumb over her shoulder at the window. "That 'little guy' is a massive frigate. You can tell because of all the little nubs on its edges." Qik explained. Casper leant forwards over the table and studied the ship. It was triangular in shape, but along its smooth edges, it did indeed have bumps, breaking up its profile every few centimetres.

"Those are turrets. It can handle everything from tiny drones to fighter crafts to anything roughly the same size as the frigate. Keeps them off the carrier's back. Keep looking out that window and you'll see its brother floating around somewhere. We have between four and six frigates following the carrier, each designed to keep a different kind of enemy off us. The one's without all those nubs will have a long straight piece, either on top or below it. That's a railgun. Those frigates handle the bigger problems."

Qik paused, before reaching out a large hand to grasp his shoulder gently. Her hand dwarfed him, but she never felt heavy to him, nor did her squeeze do anything but reassure him.

"Casper, you're safer than you've ever been on board this craft." She declared truthfully.

Qik pushed off from the table and walked over to Casper's bed, stretching as she walked until her fingertips brushed the ceiling. She threw herself onto his bed and gathered a pillow beneath her head with a comfortable sigh.

"Honestly, it's adorable how you still enjoy the stars. Everyone who's in space for a living just kind of forgets they're there." She offered from her lounged position on his bed. Casper turned to her and shrugged then tried to suppress a yawn, using a thumb to rub his eye as he spoke.

"It's new to me. I lived in a city; light pollution stopped me from seeing all but the brightest. What's the station like?" He asked, curious as aside from the intake, which he really didn't remember much of, he hadn't seen other stations.

"Geckin run, but it's on a major shipping lane. Expect a whole plethora of species. Although the ssypno and the geckin portions are kept separate, for obvious reasons." Qik explained. "It's got everything a private military company could want. Work, trading, entertainment, sex, whatever scratches your itch. "

Casper blinked at the casual nature of Qik and reminded himself that despite her softness with him, she was a hardened warrior, capable of handling herself and killing people without losing sleep.

"I think I'll steer clear of that last one."  Although Casper was sincere, Qik merely snorted again as if doubting Casper's words.

"Again; adorable. You might change your tone after being stuck on this ship with no one but each other to keep you company." The lopeljack explained as she lay on Casper's bed. His eyes roamed on their own, from her wide, fluffy toes, past her almost dainty ankles, up her thick calves and knee-weakeningly thick thighs, to the curve of her hips and toned front of a fighter who kept themselves in their best possible shape.

It was all topped with a head and face that watched him carefully, her ears having fallen casually across her body. Her smile was a knowing one. Casper swallowed.

"There's worse people to spend time with." The young man offered, suddenly nervous. Qik merely grinned. The air had become charged at the first mention of sex. Whilst he wasn't fully inexperienced, Casper did not have a 'body count' he could rely on. Qik however exuded confidence and experience.

"You'd think so, but I'm the big bad Qik. Nobody wants to spend time with a cold bitch like me." She explained, grinning wickedly. Her tone was mocking, welcoming Casper into joining in and to deny her claims. He couldn't help the smirk that pulled one side of his face up.

"I wouldn't mind." Casper replied correctly with a more casual tone than he really felt, shrugging and pointedly ignoring the nervous shake in his hands.

"Well, how about you come here then, and I can welcome you to the crew properly...?" She asked, crooking a finger and reeling the young man in with zero resistance from him. As he clambered into the bed and felt the lopel's hand gently grasp the back of his head, bringing him in for a kiss, the human was struck with a thought.

If this were the spoils of battle, then maybe Casper could get very used to being a mercenary?

[r/WolvensStories]

[Ko-Fi]

[battery-included]

Asylum has arrived; Embargo unit inbound↯

Your over-ears deafen the surroundings as a perfectly calculated impact engulfs the void around you.

A 30' wall of artillery-proof alloy now stands between you and the chaos, allowing you to clamber into the safety of her chassis. Blown out speakers crackle with stern familiarity:

" Make your next moves count, pilot. "

[theamazingdigitalraceway]

What does the in-between look like?

For some reason it reminds me of the mirror dimension from The Owl House...

-🪿

A/N: I don't know what the mirror dimension from The Owl House looks like-

So, the in-between is the space between spaces. A realm of pure darkness between the inbounds and out-of-bounds areas of the game. It's only inhabited by one person, Seth.

From his point of view in the in-between, it's like clipping through the map. He can see through the walls or floors of the game and observe any racer completely undetected. Same with the out of bounds area. He can see through the gridded walls into the massive workshop area Caine uses to store the assets.

The in-between is virtually endless, going in a loop between the layers of the game. He can ride for as long and as fast as he wants completely unbothered. Alone.

Seth cannot see the void from the in-between. He prefers to stay away from it. It's dangerous.

The only way to access the in-between is by Seth teleporting someone with him. Even Caine can't enter. Not that he wants to.

The shadows of the in between are completely at Seth's disposal. He typically uses them to infect and foil Caine's creations just for the fun of it. Though he is capable of creating things himself, he simply refuses to. (With some rare exception)

[coyotescribbles]

Like A House On Fire [Part 11]

Continuing from...

-----

By the time the moons had risen, the fog had finally cleared, and Z realized that she could see for kilometers in every direction. It was almost difficult to remember to keep walking, and not just because her feet were killing her - some part of her just wanted to stand rooted to the spot so she could take in every last detail.

The dense golden-white cloud of the Milky Way and the countless blue stars that painted the vast expanse, a glittering backdrop for the two brilliant moons that painted the gently-rolling desert foothills in shining silver. In the distance, void-black mountains raised their jagged peaks towards the scintillating sky - a sky mirrored in the faint patches of lights sprawling across their flanks.

As she watched, a half-dozen red stars descended towards those lights.

If we did not evacuate them, Hatchet had said, the inbound military forces would kill them all, and use their corpses to paint us as the aggressors.

And then the Ministry of Truth's embedded Redactors would finish the job, executing the SEAF regulars and even any accompanying Helldivers who had participated in the killing, before retreating back to the stars. SEHC's propaganda machine would do the work from there.

A bitter taste filled her mouth at the thought.

"Z?" Hatchet's voice cut through her thoughts, and she realized that she'd stopped; snapping back to attention, she jogged to catch back up to him.

This time, when he offered her his arm, she didn't even try to argue, wearily climbing up to settle in the crook of his elbow.

"Sorry," she murmured as she leaned into his side and the heat radiating from his chassis; "I got a little distracted for a minute."

"You're worried, it is understandable," came his soft reply, underscored by the clicking of his arm's joints locking. "Try to rest for now, though. It's been a long day."

"Mmh."

With a long sigh, Z pulled the hood of her coat down over her face and pushed herself a little more firmly against Hatchet's side. An amused little rumble rose up in his chest at that.

"Comfortable, little sister?"

"Kinda," she mumbled, voice slightly muffled; "you're warm."

Hatchet laughed softly in reply.

For what felt like a long time, she just rode along in silence, half-asleep. Unlike the previous night, however, it was hard to shut her brain all the way off and fully sleep; there was just too much churning through her mind, keeping her awake.

Eventually, she gave up, pulling her hood back down with a defeated sigh. "Ah, fuck it…"

"Something wrong?"

"No, my brain just won't stop… buzzing. It's keeping me awake."

"That sounds like something is wrong, little sister."

Z scoffed softly and heaved another sigh, letting her head fall back against his shoulder. "It's fine. I'm fine, I just can't stop thinking, is all. This is the first actually quiet day I've had in a long time, think my brain's just freaking out a little."

"Would you care to talk about it? It might help."

"I…" She faltered for a moment.

She'd been faltering an awful lot over the past couple of days.

"…I don't actually know how to describe it," she admitted at length, "I've never done that before. Not since I was little, anyway…"

Despite the bulk of his chassis being in the way, she could still feel his scrutiny; it left her feeling uncomfortably open.

"I think I am starting to better understand you," Hatchet's voice was almost too quiet to hear; "I have never met a human like you, and I am beginning to see why."

"What's that mean?"

"You've been isolated for some time, haven't you?"

"…I, well… sort of?" Ever since I had to start holding K at arm's length… "It's. Complicated."

"Perhaps not as complicated as you believe." Z could never quite get used to the gentleness of the big Devastator's voice, or how vulnerable it made her feel. "Humans are… fragile. Without interpersonal connections, you wither and fade. Become despondent, desperate, fearful, and easy to control."

Z bit her lip, turning her eyes back towards the stars.

"Ah, but you," he continued, "you are full of rage and hurt, too, all hidden under a mask of indifference - a mask that cracks under the pressure of that underlying desperation, your need for the kindness and companionship you've been denied."

"…Read me like a Major Order, why don't you." She tried to laugh, but it came out strangled, and her vision blurred for a moment. The heel of her hand came away wet when she reached up to scrub at her eyes, and she stared blankly at it for a moment.

If Hatchet noticed, he didn't draw attention to it.

"You haven't made it terribly easy, but the clues were there. I am glad I took the time to start to piece them together, rather than simply going with my first impression."

"And what was that?"

"Your highly atypical fear response initially led me to believe that you were… perhaps somewhat insane."

That caught her off-guard, and she found herself burying her face in her coat sleeves to muffle her sudden laughter. "Oh my god."

"But, as it turns out, all you needed was a little compassion and a chance to not be so afraid." Now she was absolutely sure that he was being smug about something. "I have always prided myself on never being wrong, but I am glad that I was, just this once."

"You say that like you have a habit of picking up stray humans," she mused, leaning into him once more; "and here I thought I was special."

"You are, little sister. You're the first I've opted to keep, rather than forwarding to a CyOp recruiter."

"Well when you say it like that it sounds like I'm your pet." Z nudged him with her elbow, barely holding back another laugh even as he chuffed softly in amusement. Then, "…what, exactly, is a CyOp?"

"Ah. It will be my pleasure to explain…"

Maybe it was the rhythmic marching pace, or maybe it was the even, low tone of his voice, but eventually Z found herself lulled to sleep, her mind finally quiet. The last thing she remembered was nestling into his radiant heat as she listened to him recount how he'd singled out his most recent likely CyOp candidate… And the next she knew, the gray light of dawn was peeking past her hood, while electronic chatter filtered back through the column.

She was sure that there were more voices than there had been previously.

Stirring drowsily, she pushed her hood out of her face and squinted past the sudden brightness of daylight. When her eyes adjusted, she could see that there were, indeed, more Automatons marching alongside them - almost forty more, she guessed at a glance.

"Hatchet…?"

"Outposts Twenty-Nine and Thirty-Two converged on us earlier this morning," he explained quietly.

"Oh… which outpost were you?"

"Thirty-One."

"So where's Thirty?"

"Their crew included three tanks," his tone turned dry, "they made significantly better time."

Z couldn't help the way she snorted at that, even as she took stock of the new day's situation. The sky had clouded over once more, with thick low clouds that threatened snow. The dense fog that had engulfed the past few days remained conspicuously absent, replaced by a thin, gauzy haze that hung over the horizon like a veil. Gone was the sand of the foothills, replaced by firm, gravelly dirt and bare swaths of that familiar black sandstone, on which grew sparse, coarse brownish grass and a few short scrubby plants.

It almost reminded her of a few planets where she'd been sent bug-hunting, and she had to consciously refrain from looking for signs of Terminid infestation.

Old habits die hard.

"Hey, uh… these new guys aren't going to get cagey about me being here, are they?" Her voice was quiet and uncertain as she leaned in close to Hatchet.

"No," he replied, just as quietly, "but stay close, some may not be so watchful about where they step."

"So noted."

Her dismount was… significantly more graceful than the previous morning's had been, even if her still-aching feet protested, and she hit the ground focused and determined to see the rest of this trip through - as well as appropriately wary of their new companions. Particularly the three new Devastators and two Hulks that now brought up the rear alongside her and Hatchet. Z gave each of them a brief glance-over, making note of their positions before looking forwards once more… and stepping a bit closer to Hatchet.

Only a few more hours… it should only be a few more hours…

And then the real trial would begin.

[multi-fan-dom-madness]

Chapter 19: Dinui (Second Chances - Hunter x reader)

Dinui. n. gift.

Chapter Summary: The life or death situation spurs you into action.

Chapter Warnings: canon-typical violence; FLUFF

Word Count: 3,730

A/N: I hope the 70k leading up to this moment has been worth it <3

< Previous chapter | Next chapter >

You stumble as the Marauder lifts straight up from the ground, just barely catching yourself on the wall, knee slamming into the metal frame of the jump seats. Eyes watering, you shove away from the wall and, seeing Phee already at the gunnery, scramble to the cockpit. You have no sight lines on the Redthorn from here. Terror and anger clash in your veins, the yawning void of night warring the searing heat of the dawn.

“Nav!” Omega slams into you, her arms squeezing around you.

“Hey, kid.” You shuffle along with her latched to you, trying to keep your balance as Tech yanks the ship’s controls to the side. “Tech, we’re rendezvousing at Rintonne.”

“Might I advise against returning to a place we have already been?” he says, voice tight with concentration.

You grip onto the back of his chair. “Tell Hunter that.”

He grunts in acknowledgement, his knuckles white where he grasps the ship’s yoke. As gently as you can, you unwind Omega’s embrace from your midsection and nudge her towards one of the passenger seats. She goes without protest. Through the front viewports, green blaster fire continues to scream, the three TIEs shooting past the Marauder. Ice floods your system.

“Phee!” you yell.

“They’re targeting the Redthorn!” she replies. The durasteel floorboards vibrate with discharged energy as the ship’s guns open fire. “I’m doing what I can!”

“I can assist with that,” Tech mutters. His hands dart over the controls, giving Omega quiet instructions on buttons he can’t reach. You hover one hand over the comms. If the situation turns for the worse, you are ready to open the channel to...to do what exactly, you’re not certain.

The Marauder’s main engines cut out and Tech jerks the yoke hard to the left. The moonlit, dusty world of Nixor spins by, dizzying in its ethereal beauty. There is no sign of the Imperial ships or your own, but you’re able to push back the rising tide of terror with the knowledge that so long as Phee is still firing, there is still something to fire at.

“One down,” calls Phee. “The other two are regrouping. We need to get outta here.”

“Not without the others,” you growl. Louder, you say, “Keep those TIEs distracted. The Redthorn needs to make the jump first. It can’t withstand enemy fire for much longer.”

“You need a better ship,” Tech says.

His comment stings, even though it shouldn’t. With a shake of your head, you shove the feeling away. “It was fine when I wasn’t being chased across the galaxy.”

He has no response for that. Instead, he throws the lever, powering the engines back up. Your shoulder nearly dislocates as the ship shoots forward, arm snapping taut, and you grit your teeth.

“Tech, Nav?” Omega says. She points at the proximity radar, where several more triangular glyphs have appeared. “We’ve got incoming.”

“Kark it all!” Abandoning the comms, you unshoulder your pack. The blender rattles as you slide the bag across the floor, and then you dart through the ship to take the gunnery ladder two rungs at a time. Phee glances over her shoulder as you climb up.

“Came to watch the show?” she asks with a loose smile.

You bark out a laugh. “Hardly. Came to help. More fighters inbound.”

Braced against the sticker-decorated wall, you can only watch with growing trepidation as Phee takes aim at the TIE fighters still circling the Redthorn. Your two ships are making progress—the surface of the planet below rapidly withdraws as the ships climb. But you fear it isn’t fast enough to escape the new wave of fighters you can just barely make out against the starry night sky. Phee is a good shot—you’ve seen her do impressive things with a hand blaster, let alone ship guns—but the TIE pilots swoop and swerve and circle faster than even she can keep up.

To your surprise, the Redthorn, limited though her capabilities may be, manages to land a few critical hits on the wings of one of the TIEs. You send a silent ‘thank you’ to the Maker, or the Force, or whatever, for Wrecker’s good aim.

“Nearing the edge of the atmosphere,” Tech calls from the cockpit.

“Copy!” you and Phee say at the same time. With weary grins, you both refocus on the battle raging just beyond the three-inch thick transparisteel of the gunner’s mount.

Without a moment to spare. The second wave of fighters hits—hard. Your mouth goes dry as you watch green blaster fire clip the top curves of the Redthorn, your ship dipping in the air for just a moment from the impact. Phee’s returning fire chases that fighter away, just in time for another ship to move in.

One of the TIEs loops back around the Redthorn and opens fire directly at the Marauder. You flinch as green fire burns into your retinas. The blasts impact the rear shields in a dazzling burst of technicolor electrical discharge. Cursing, Phee swivels the gun around to follow the TIE, but it’s gone before she can properly react.

And then you’re free of the gravity well. Below you, the atmosphere scatters across the sandy planet, the dark, menacing shapes of the TIEs in hot pursuit and, farther off, the looming shadows of the Destroyers still in orbit. A few hundred feet away, the Redthorn seems to stretch in place, before flashing into hyperspace.

“They’re clear!” you shout. “Tech, get us out of here!”

“Destination?

“Anywhere but here!” You leap down the gunner’s ladder, pain rocketing up your shins. “Skip, jump, just get us out of here!”

The hyperdrive engine whirs to life from deep in the ship’s innards and rattles into your very being. For a terrible moment, you worry that one of the fighters shot out the drive; it’s never taken this long to prime. Just as you reach the cockpit, the stars elongate and disappear in a dazzle of blue-white light.

You’re free.

Panting, pain aching in your legs, you slide to the floor in the doorway. Omega swivels around to face you from where she’s strapped into a seat.

“Tech,” you say between breaths, “if we make more than one jump, can we throw them off?”

“We should already have thrown them off,” he says, pushing buttons to turn off alarms you hadn’t even realized had been blaring. “But if it will make you feel better.”

“It will,” you say. Thudding your head back against the durasteel wall, you stare up at the blinking green doorway light. “How did they find us?”

“We don’t know they were there for us,” Omega says. She unclips from the seat harness and joins you on the floor.

You hum in acknowledgement, but in your heart, you know the likelihood of that level of coincidence is slim. Not impossible, but highly improbable. “Tech, what do you think?”

“I am not certain,” he says. When he turns the pilot seat to face you, he pushes his goggles up to rub his eyes. “There is not enough data. We cannot rule out the possibility that they tracked us.”

“The information we stole from that base,” Omega says.

“What about it?” you ask.

“Maybe that’s how they followed us.” She shrugs, glancing up as Phee approaches. “Or maybe it was really just by chance.”

“Whatever the reason,” Phee says, stepping over you and Omega to sit in the co-pilot’s chair, “it’s done and over. We’ll meet up with the others, and then you’ll get your surprise.”

Swallowing, you share a glance with Omega. Despite her youth, she’s seen more—and knows more—than you sometimes give her credit for. She gives you a slight shrug. She trusts Phee; you trust Omega.

“Right.” You sigh, lolling your head in Phee’s direction. “What did you need to do on Nixor anyways?”

Phee sighs and draws a hand over her face. “Had a contact reach out with a potential artifact that I’ve been hunting for. Turns out, the cheapskate already sold it to a higher bidder.”

“That doesn’t sound fair,” Omega says. A frown creases her brow.

“It isn’t,” Phee agrees.

“Well, do we at least get to know the surprise now?” you ask.

Despite the threat of the Empire still looming over all of you, she smirks. “That’s not how surprises work.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright,” you grumble. The sight of your pack, bulging with your belongings and weighed down by the torn, moth-eaten sheet, stirs you to your feet. Groaning, you stretch your back, several vertebrae popping. “I got you all a few things before...well, before all that.”

Squatting next to your pack, miraculously nothing seems to have broken, not even the blender’s glass body. Tucking Tech’s new book under your arm, you work to disentangle the delicate golden chain of Omega’s new necklace from a thread. Your tongue pokes between your lips as you concentrate; it would be just your luck to snap the chain. It takes a moment, but the snagged thread works free, and you enclose the necklace in your fist. Both clones look at you with curiosity sparkling in their eyes despite the situation.

You hold out the book for Tech. He accepts it, turning it over in his hands like he’s never seen one before. When he opens the front cover, his eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the printed ink pressed into the flimsi. “Navigator, I...I am at a loss for words.”

“That’s a first,” you tease with a small smile. “You’re welcome. I thought you might enjoy it.”

“I shall,” he affirms.

Omega nearly vibrates with excitement as you beckon her closer. She tries to peek between your fingers at her gift, and you laugh.

“Close your eyes, kiddo.”

She acquiesces. You turn her around, loop the necklace around her, and clasp it at the nape of her neck. The marquise turquoise stone rests overtop her tunic, gleaming in the light of hyperspace.

“Alright, Omega,” you say, “open your eyes.”

Her hopeful expression falls when she realizes your hands are empty. When you gently nudge the stone around her neck, she follows the movement, her hand clasping around the necklace with a gasp. “What is it?”

“Go look.” Smiling, you jerk your head toward the small ’fresher, its tiny, cracked mirror the only place she’ll probably be able to get a good look at herself. She darts off, and only a moment later her squeal of delight reaches you. You call, “You like it?”

“I love it!” She scampers back, holding the stone in her palm to show Tech. “Tech, look! What kind of rock is that?”

Tech, already several pages into the book, adjusts his goggles to see better. With a small smile, you gather your pack and wander out of the cockpit. On Wrecker’s bunk, you nestle the blender amongst his blankets, hopeful that he’ll find it the next time he rests; on a hook by the data centers, you drape Echo’s new scarf, the deep red matching well with the ship’s interior. Satisfied, you linger in the midst of the ship, listening to Tech rattle off facts about Omega’s necklace.

Your eyes fall on Hunter’s bunk. After situating your pack underneath it so it’s out of the main walkway, you clamber onto his rack and burrow beneath the blanket. The thick, scratchy fabric smells like him: musky and smoky, faint traces of carbon residue, and a surprisingly deep spice, remnants of his body wash. Nestling deeper, you curl onto your side and tug the blanket up to your face.

Exhaustion whispers to you, spreading warmth through your body like a second blanket, but your mind is still wide awake. Hunter consumes your thoughts, Omega and Tech’s conversation fading from your awareness. Memories float to your mind’s eye. That very first argument, all those months ago. How he tended to your blaster wound, supported you during the entire walk to Cid’s, and then ran after you when you tried to leave. All of the missions he insisted you pair up with him—at the time you had assumed he wanted to keep an eye on you, but now, lying in his bunk, enveloped by his scent, you wonder if he had other motives, too.

You avoid the painful memories, glossing over Iridonia in favor of Coruscant, how he’d pulled you into a hug that time, and every time since. The way he put on his gift without hesitation, the breath he shared with you in the dark, his hands on your body. His admission in the Redthorn’s cockpit. The stone that now lies secure in a pouch, digging into your hip. Electricity skitters down your spine as you recall the look in his eye when he gave it to you, heat warming your insides. Even now, separated by Maker only knows how many light years as you both hurtle through hyperspace, you feel the faint tug in your sternum, the one that points you towards him. Towards home.

You fall asleep with a smile playing over your lips.

You convince Tech to make two more jumps before setting course for Rintonne, and you’re now on that second jump. You’ve lost track of how many hours you’ve spent in hyperspace this time. Aside from the nap in Hunter’s bunk, you’ve dozed at least once in the jump seats, too aware of Phee’s presence in Tech’s orbit to remain around them for very long. You’re currently in the cockpit again, Phee having gone to the ’fresher a few moments ago. Omega disappeared to her bunk some time ago. You figure that whatever she’s getting up to, you’ll find out soon enough.

The flash of Tech’s cam draws your attention back toward him. He’s already devoured the book you bought him, and is now in the process of scanning it to make it more...Tech.

“How long till we make the final jump?” you murmur.

Tech flips another page and holds his cam steady, the flash leaving an afterimage in your vision, shaped like him. He says, “Approximately a standard hour.”

You hum. “Think you’ll finish that before we get to Rintonne?”

“Doubtful,” he says. “I have another project to work on that takes priority.”

Though you only retain about half of what Tech explains to you about his projects, you still want to know, wanting him to feel included and important. “What’s the project?”

“That.” He points toward the doorway.

Omega beams at you, her arms full of...something, a blanket haphazardly wrapped around whatever’s inside. Confusion sweeps through you as you glance between her and Tech. Carefully, she carries the bundle to you and deposits it at your feet, then perches on the arm of the chair you’re curled up in.

“What’s—”

She nudges your arm. “Open it.”

Quirking one eyebrow, you take one more moment to scrutinize both of their expressions. Finding nothing but barely contained excitement on one and quiet amusement on the other, you shrug. You lean down and flip the blanket back.

Your confusion deepens. “Clone armor?”

Except, it’s not like any clone armor you’ve seen. Where the Empire’s clones still wear identical sets of gleaming white plastoid, and where the squad’s armor is dark-washed gray in unique configurations, this set is a lighter gray despite being the standard style. You lift the helmet and peer at your reflection in the black visor. The furrow in your brow seems exaggerated by the helmet’s curve.

“When we were on Coruscant the first time, we ran into some...resistance,” Tech explains. “This was Echo’s idea.”

Omega nods. “We wanted to wait to give it to you, but with everything that just happened, I wanted to make sure you have protection.”

The corners of her eyes crinkle as she smiles at you. In your center, that strange feeling of everything shifting a few inches in the wrong direction lurches. You tug the girl into a hug, tears welling up and threatening to spill over.

“Thank you,” you whisper against her hair. You catch Tech’s gaze and smile. He nods in response before dropping his eyes from yours.

“D’you like it?” Omega asks, voice muffled from being squished against you.

You take a moment to look at the armor again, but you already have your answer. “I do. I really do. Thank you, ’Mega.”

“I have more paint if you want to add colors,” she says. “Same colors as the others wear.”

Releasing her, you can’t hold back the smile that breaks over your face. “I’d love that.”

“Before you proceed with decorating, I will assist in ensuring everything fits properly,” Tech adds. “I have studied how to manipulate plastoid without compromising its structural integrity, so making certain pieces conform to your non-clone form should be relatively simple. And I already added padding to the helmet to be sure it fits.”

You blink at him. “How do you know my head size?”

“I have accurate measurements of the entire squad,” he says, so matter-of-factly that you almost feel silly for asking.

You apply the last brushstroke of teal to the helmet just as the ship drops out of hyperspace. Setting the helmet down, your eyes scan over the full suit of armor, spread across the ship’s floor. Orange, yellow, and teal pop against the light-wash gray, marking you, finally, as a full member of the squad. Once the paint sets, you will be official. You’re unexpectedly nervous for that moment. What if they change their minds? What if Hunter changes his mind?

But as the ship touches down in a clearing not unlike the one you’d been in the first time you visited Rintonne, and you catch Hunter’s gaze through the viewports, your anxiety melts away. His eyebrows lift and he nods once at you.

You can’t get out of the Marauder quick enough.

Wrecker claps your shoulder with a booming laugh as soon as your feet touch solid ground. “Nav, I love ya, but your ship—”

“Needs work, I know, big guy,” you say, rubbing your shoulder. “There’s a surprise for you on your bunk.”

His eyes widen, mouth falling into a perfect ‘o’ before he bounds up the stairs, nearly bowling Tech over. Giggling, you turn back across the clearing.

Hunter stands on the Redthorn’s ramp, helmet seemingly still in the ship, all his weight settled onto one foot as he gazes at you. Despite the breathtaking scenery around you, all you can see is him. Around his wrist, the rock bracelet sits between the joint of his bracer and gauntlet. Your heart soars. But now, actually back in his presence in full daylight, you suddenly feel like you can’t move, rooted to the spot the same way the trees around you are, the wind sighing through you, around you, within you. Your mind wars with itself: he said he needs time; you need him.

Phee nudges your shoulder as she comes down the ramp. “Go to him.”

“But—”

“Nope,” she says, giving you a wink. “Go. Trust me.”

Suddenly the roots are gone, as though they never existed. You try to walk, but by the time you’re halfway across the clearing, you’re running, sprinting, propelled along by the gravity linking you together. Hunter remains where he is, and it’s not until you’re at the base of the ramp that you realize he’s hiding a smile.

“Hi,” you pant.

“Hey,” he says, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. “You all okay?”

“We’re good.” You place a foot on the ramp. “You?”

He shrugs, eyes flitting away from yours for a moment to survey the others. “We’ve had worse.”

You take another step up the ramp. “I was worried about you.”

An unfamiliar expression passes over his face, one that you struggle to identify. But then he holds out his hand, the one with the bracelet, and all you can think about is taking it.

You do.

He tugs you gently the rest of the way up the ramp—and then keeps going. It’s not until you’re both fully within the ship’s cargo bay, out of sight of the others, that he halts. The hand holding yours squeezes, twines your fingers with his. Eyelashes fluttering, you gaze up at him, taking him in. He looks exhausted, caked with dust and dirt, sweat dried around his bandana, stubble starting to peek through. His tattoo ripples as his jaw works. But his gray eyes glimmer, bright and expressive and deep. You find your favorite freckle, the one just beside his right eye, and again the strange, three-inches-to-the-left feeling returns.

In this moment, he’s the most stunning thing you’ve ever seen.

Your mouth moves before your brain can catch up. “Can I kiss you?”

You don’t have time to regret the words. His other hand coming up to cup your face, he draws you closer, eyes never leaving yours as he leans in. His lips brush against yours.

“Oh stars,” you whimper.

Eyes sliding shut, you stand on your toes to kiss him properly. He groans, deep and rumbly in his chest. He releases your hand to wrap around your waist and pull you flush to him. Against yours, his mouth is insistent, measured, moving softly as your head spins. His lips are dusty and chapped, but you don’t care. You’ll never care. Digging your fingers into his waist, you press impossibly closer. He tilts your head, thumb rubbing across your cheekbone, sparking a fire that smolders in your lower belly.

When you pull away, head fuzzy with warmth, his eyes crinkle with a smile.

“I know you said you needed time, but I—”

“Shhh, cyare.” He kisses you again, chaste and sweet; you chase his mouth when he pulls back again. “I’m glad you asked.”

Breath coming in labored gasps, you can only nod, heat flushing your entire body. You allow one hand to wander from his waist to his face, tracing the outline of his tattoo. He hums, eyes falling shut. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear, you follow through on the movement, tugging the bandana off of his head. His curls fall into his face, and you sigh in contentment. Carding your fingers into his hair, you gently scratch his scalp and—

He kisses you again, groaning into your mouth. With a smile, you press yourself flush against him, content to remain in his embrace until Omega comes looking for you both.

Taglist: @the-hexfiles @fjordg @idoubleswearimawriter @skellymom

[yuzupia]

Finished ZeroRanger and wow, that was... not easy LOL. Coming from Void Stranger, I realized how poor my bullet hell skills were (one day I'll finish a Touhou game, probably when my eyes stop hurting from playing them), but I had a great time! When I saw that there was an arrange album coming out (featuring Raito!) I figured I had to beat it before it came out.

Some spoilers inbound!

I think the fact that there's connections between this and Void Stranger were pretty interesting, especially seeing Zero Judge again, it almost makes me wish I had played this first before Void Stranger. Also seeing the tree that was in Void Stranger's EX end as well as the circle of orbs(probably a better name for this), I had a lot of "woah!!" moments. I'm super looking forward to the arrange album, and more importantly System Erasure's next game!

[allw3doisadvert1se]

[[Transmission Inbound]]

7:77 AM PST

7:77 AM PST

7:77 AM PST

[[Running Scan for Hazardous Void Corruption …]]

[[Fulfilling Faith Quotas …]]

[[Opening SIMULACRUM.v1 …]]

[asimplesweettart]

Oh, moon, round of manchego

For the @thehauntedair sweaterverse event!

---

It was a lovely late October day in the Hudson River Valley. The air was crisp and salted with the scent of burning firewood. The afternoon had drawn the shadow of the treeline over Madam Love Rawlins’ garden, leaving the fortune teller and her two sons in a chilly shade, made comfortable by sensible outerwear:

Madam Love, in her fringed black shawl, gold and silver sequined with figures of cats. Dorian, in a black turtleneck and brown ribbed cardigan. And Zachary, in a harbor-provided pullover sweater.

“Zachary,” said Dorian, eyes seeming at once far away, and very focused on his husband’s torso. “There is something I must tell you.”

Zachary placed his mug down, anticipating Dorian’s trajectory. Of course, the story had already begun to sprout seeds on sight of Zachary sliding his arms into the sleeves only a few hours ago.

It was predominantly blue knit, a dusky shade that implied the upper layers of the earth’s atmosphere. Printed along his midsection and lower portion of his sleeves were smiling white creatures wearing space suits and each holding round-- somethings. Zachary wasn’t exactly concerned with what they held, or even what the cheery-looking creatures were (Dogs? Bunnies? Bears?) as he had only been looking for a sweater to keep off the upstate chill.

However, he could feel the vibration of Dorian’s mind working out not only what these creatures were, but their occupations, moral inclinations, and destinies.

He respected Zachary’s desire to be timely for his visit to his mother, and so held onto the story that was simmering. But now they were in Madam Love’s backyard, teabags sat cooling in saucers, and initial catching up conversation put to rest. The time had come.

Zachary suppressed a delighted smile and said very seriously, “Oh, tell me, my love.” 

Madam Love had hosted enough dinners and seasonally themed parties to recognize the tilt that Dorian’s voice took when there was a story inbound. Her many-ringed fingers cupped her mug as she settled into a cushioned yard chair, closing her eyes. 

  Dorian held one of his husband’s arms, where one smiling creature cradled its cratered orb. “There exists a squadron of bunnies in space…”

“Ah, so they’re bunnies,” Zachary noted.

“Indeed. There are many, many bunnies in this squadron, born without purpose; the void in her cruel wisdom gave birth to them wearing their space suits, and set them upon the infinite galaxies without a creed or code to their names. They pick up speed as they plummet aimlessly through the freezing vacuum.”

Zachary scooted closer to Dorian on the garden loveseat, suddenly craving more warmth. He leaned his cheek into Dorian’s neck to feel the thrum of a story unspooling. 

“They go so far, so rapidly, that they exit and enter galaxies by the blinks of their eyes. They travel distances beyond what the human mind is capable of comprehending.”

“Beyond bunny-mind comprehension, too?” asked Zacahry, speech slightly squished due to his cheek’s position.

Dorian chuckled, “I suppose, yes, outside of their comprehension, too.”

Dorian’s hand moves to Zachary’s chest, in the empty space where the knit is only blue. “Eventually, they reach an eternity of starlessness. A depth of dark so profound that movement, space, and feeling lost their weight on their souls, and they became unmoored from the sensation of life itself.”

Zachary twined his hands into Dorian’s.

“On the far end of an indiscernible amount of time, the bunny squadron comes across a light. It is a soft yellow glow, like an effulgent ball of yellow cheese. It is something like a moon, but its light is all its own magnificence, with no sun in sight.

The bunnies land on the splendorous object without as much as a peep to coordinate their intent; the need for something is immediately understood by the collective. They stand on it, explore, feeling its texture, its size, its somethingness. It is indeed quite a radiant sphere of manchego cheese.”

Zachary hummed in agreement. Yes, cheese moon, absolutely. 

“The bunnies began to chatter. There hadn’t been much to discuss in the deep starless space, so each squeaky, disused voice to chime in caused a collective startle. They clammer and cry about their new thing.

That is round.

That is wondrous.

That is something.

One bunny asserts that this thing is their purpose. They must have been born to become destroyers, and destroy this moon to continue the completeness of the void’s dark. He produces a sparkling fuse to attach to the moon, to detonate it.” Dorian tapped a finger in the area of Zachary’s sternum, where one sweater bunny held its sphere, which also had a fuse popped into it.

“However, another bunny cuts across his squadmate to insist that they are all starving, and should eat the moon and not destroy it. And eating is not necessarily destroying. So they disagree.

They come to a decision that they will split the moon in half. One half for the bunnies hungry for destruction, another for the simply hungry.

The squadron set to work sawing the big cheese in half. They garrote her, using a long thread, until she is sliced in two equal hemispheres.

But upon seeing the two halves that they had created, the bunnies feel a great sense of diminishing. Not of light, which still shines all about the two halves, and seems to shine more so now with the heart of the moon borne nakedly to the darkness of space. But it was her roundness that was her essence, which they had destroyed. 

With the same thread used for the lunacide, still gunky with gluey cheese smush and guts, they try to tie her back together. But it is no use. She slips and slides apart, creating uneven ridges and bleeding fondue. She is dead.

They wail, and mourn her, and curse their own folly and indecision that had ruined their first beautiful thing. One bunny, in his grief, pushes his face into the flesh of the dead moon. He cradles the goo, and his squeezing arms eventually form it into a sphere. The other bunnies follow suit, craving the roundness, the perfection, the uncompromised trinity of circumference, radius, and center. This method of mourning produces many complete smaller moons. The bunnies fall in love with the moonlets, and name them after gods.

The new gods spawn their own systems, ever expanding galaxies full of starlight. Within this starlight, the bunnies at last find their homes. They live long, ebullient lives eating the cheese of these galaxies, but only in moderation.”

“Will the cheese ever run out?” Zachary asked, having caught the tone of denouement in Dorian’s voice, and uncurling himself from his side to stretch. 

“No, the expansion of the universe creates infinite cheese,” explained Dorian.

“Then why ever would they moderate their intake?” He cupped his husband’s face to kiss it. “Now I really want cheese.”

Just then, Madam Love appeared back to the garden table with a small bowl of babybels still in their red plastic and wax. Zachary grinned at his mother as he gratefully took a piece.

His mother raised two cautionary eyebrows. “Constipation, honeychild.”

[hypnotickale]

I hate it when a really cool person follows me and reminds me of how many incredible and lovely people I have on here following me. Anyways hi, I love you. Vent post inbound:

So I just had an incredible weekend with 2 of the most lovely people in the world. It was warm and safe and comforting and just an all around vibe. I've genuinely felt a euphoria that I don't think I've ever felt before being here but maybe that's because it's the first time I could like truly present fem in public.

What's the problem then? Why is this labeled as a vent post if this weekend was so wonderful. Because that means tomorrow I must go home. If you don't know I'm not going to bore you with the details but it's not the best. More than that though I'm going to be alone. I... I've fought tooth and nail my entire life to not be alone. To not be a burden. To be something more than a bunch of broken pieces hobbled together by this hope of something more. Praying that tomorrow will be brighter.

I never have the words. I stumble time and time again trying to... Everything... I say exactly how I feel every time. I wear my heart on my sleeve. I will always put the needs of others before my own as much as I can. I give everything away because I am nothing. I'm so fucking empty. I don't feel my heart in my chest. I don't see anything in the mirror. It's just a void where a person should be. It's a joke. Idk

I'm so tired of this song and dance. I want to get off the ride. I want the fucking pain to go away and it never will.

[miracle-sham]

A Precipice Fore and After; a Swarm of Demons Inbound.

| {MGI Civil War 3 Event} |

| {Demons, Sacrifice} |

| [Ao3 Link] | | [Masterlist Link] |

———

| She was supposed to be a civilian. They were supposed to be gone. |

| After so long, Marinette's past had come back to haunt her. While her demons hunt her down, she must bear the burden she hadn't carried in years. |

| Word Count: 1,261 |

| Warnings/Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Demons, Martyrdom but without the actual death so much as metaphorical death, Demons, Call of the Void, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Tragedy, Bittersweet Ending. |

———

| A/N: Less then half an hour before the event deadline ends, I have managed to write this fic! I hope you enjoy reading! |

| Also side note, Don’t Like? Don’t Read. |

———

 Like the silence in the centre of a storm, or the aftermath of a bomb. A cacophony surrounding that couldn't be heard.

 The sky crackled and writhed like a butterfly crawling out of a cocoon. A sickly wretched purple that spread like an infection, consuming the pink and gold glittering sunset and leaving the world drenched in twilit shadows.

 Out of the corner of her eyes, she could see the fires raging as cars and buses were overturned like dominos. Civilians and other heroes, both masked and unmasked, rushing for shelter or to save one another. At any other time, it would've been heartwarming, to see everyone working together to find shelter as tragedy descends, to know that people were trying their hardest to be there for others in a time of great need.

 And yet, somehow the bridge Marinette stood on held strong. Surprising seeing as the Gotham bridges were ever so frequently blown up or destroyed.

 Was this…?

 As she stood still, in the centre of the bridge, in a ring—the one place—that was clear of debris. Though not on the edge, she was making no attempts to move.

 She could see the others, screaming desperately, terror and concern etched into every fibre of their visible beings as they reached and called out to her. Begging for her to run, to hide, seek shelter, to survive. Swearing and yelling as she made no attempts to move. As devastated by her inaction as the world around them.

 But she was deaf to their pleas, their voices silenced by the thunderous pounding of her heart beat in her head and the whispers roaring in her ears.

 Because in the air, opposite the bridge, cradled between the skyscrapers of Bludhaven and Gotham, an army of shadow akumas—Hawkmoth's demonic army—began to spill from a blimp like putrid rotting blood.

 And here Marinette was stood. In the centre of the bridge, the only person to be facing them as the swarm began to advance towards the bridge.

 Both hero and civilian attacks glancing harmlessly off the encroaching horde. Useless against the demons. But hers wouldn't be.

 With a whisper in her mind, martyr, the weight of the earrings in her ears grew heavier with each breath, as she watched the demons draw closer and closer still.

 Glancing towards the churning black waves below, she breathed in deeply, not daring to shut her eyes even for a moment. Feeling as though the ground was going to swallow her up and drop her into the depths below.

 It was about to all come crashing down, the civilian life she'd spent so long building up from the ground with blood and tears. A nobody, newly moved into Gotham, who had somehow caught the attention of the Bats and Constantine shortly after, despite her best efforts. A civilian they sought for answers regarding the strange magic she couldn't help but exude, and the eclectic knowledge she had regarding both magic and mundane crimes around Gotham. A civilian they tried so hopelessly to protect whenever she got tangled up in their problems.

 She could practically hear the swears they were all muttering as she stood there, unmoving, like a lamb for slaughter, ready for the altar of an apathetic god of emotions.

 They must think she's terrified, frozen in fear.

 But that wasn't the case.

 This was her fault, her battle to fight, her mistake to fix.

 This was the call of the void.

 Ever so slowly, Marinette raised her right hand, as if reaching out towards the encroaching army.

 And who was she to not take heed of it.

 Twisting her hand slowly as if grasping something tangible instead of air. She clenched it into a fist in one quick violent motion.

 And let the power consume her.

 A flash of red and pink and white, bubbling and wrapping around her with its oh-so familiar magic.

 Marinette closed her.

 And Ladybug opened hers.

 It had been so long, since she had last been a vessel to the powers of the tiny goddess of luck and creation. Though rusty, she was not.

 She breathed deeply, staring still at the demons. With the flick of her hand, she did what she always did best; create in order to destroy. And with her counterpart's absence of life, it was up to her to balance it alone.

 The akumas, and Hawkmoth; Ladybug would not fail again.

 Not this time.

 Not again.

 With the flick of her wrist, the nearest demon imploded in a burst of white and pink, leaving naught but a trace behind.

 She took a step forwards—closer to the edge, closer to the demons—another flick, another gone.

 The sound around her became a sea of white noise. Distantly and detached, she could see out of the corner of her eye, someone she cared for reaching out towards, mouthing her name frantically like it was a prayer—like it would save her.

 Ladybug turned her attention back to the demons, she couldn't afford to make any mistakes again by losing focus so easily.

 She reached her hand out, as if to grab the air in front of her again, and clenched it. A huge swathe of demons in front of her hand all burst into pink and white sparkles that dissipated in the wind.

 Almost mockingly beautiful in dying embers of the day, like miniature sunsets of death.

 Hand gesture, after hand gesture, after hand gesture. She slaughtered her way through the swarm, preventing any from reaching the civilians upon the bridge with her.

 It wasn't a surprise, they weren't targeting the cities either side. After all, she wasn't there. She was here. On the bridge. Facing them down.

 They were here for her.

 And her vengeance would be swift.

 Another step closer to the edge, another step closer to the nightmare that hunted her.

 Slowly, she began to swing her yo-yo in her off-hand, gaining speed with each swing. Her plan was risky. But it would work, it had to. There would only be one chance, however, to pull it off.

 For if she failed, then Hawkmoth would become unstoppable. No, she couldn't let that happen.

 The void called, the abyssal waters below churned and raved like rabid dogs chomping at that bit.

 With every step, she took out more and more demons, though the onslaught was relentless.

 Once she reached the edge of the bridge, she turned around, to take one final glimpse of her friends, before the end.

 For Tikki.

 For Plagg.

 For Nooroo.

 She launched herself from the edge, like a diver—face to the sky.

 Plummeting, she reached her arm up as trying to grasp the sky.

 The demons lunged. Hurtling towards her like sharks to blood in the water.

 Ladybug breathed in deep. And as she exhaled, two great big hemelytra wings unfolded from her shoulder blades. Twisting midair so she could skim her free hand through the waves.

 Rocketing upwards, she carved her way through Hawkmoth's army, taking out every single demon on the way with her wings and yo-yo, until she hit the blimp.

 It exploded in an incandescent burst of red.

 When the light cleared, the blimp and every demon was gone.

 And in the glow of the rising moon, a girl in normal clothes fell from the sky.

———

 Constantine managed to safely catch her with a frantic spell. But it had been close.

 Her earrings had been missing when she awoke.

 And so were all her memories.

 But she was safe.

 And she was alive.

———

| Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this very short little fic! Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are all much appreciated! And make sure to support the rest of my team’s fics if you enjoyed this! |

| Also feel free to send me any comments with any questions you have regarding this fic, I’ll be more than happy to answer! |

| However, please do not criticise any of my writing. This was written for fun and receiving criticism, even in a compliment/criticism sandwich, is the exact opposite of fun. |

| @maribat-get-in |

[invaderkittkat]

Used to fucking hate naps as a small child. Not sure why, but I apparently just did. Now as a grown ass adult I cherish them. Those naps are the life-blood of getting my ass back on schedule for work or having the patience and energy to just go deal with the sunlight walking world.

On a separate story last night I was exhausted enough that for the time I was at work and not counting down the hours before I could leave early to go nap, I decided to put in the most bare minimum effort and let my coworkers figure out the yard management themselves. When I went to do a yard audit the only numbers I checked were that of the trailers and the quantity of tractors. I did not check tractor license plates to ensure it was the same ones in the system. It was -5f and the quantity matched the device I was using.

Que this being the one fucking time that 2 tractors had extended dwell time over 12 hours and I just said yes they were there. They weren't. There were 2 dudes that had to recheck themselves in because the remote gate agent somehow missed a step and my coworker manning the guard shack didn't know how to fix it.

It felt nice just stepping back, doing the bare minimum that my coworkers do, and letting someone else deal with the constant clerical issues we get. Everything was simple fixes, but apparently my coworkers are convinced that I don't know how to do the job and don't do anything for the yard.

I think this stems from the fact I won't go through and redirect inbounds to doors when the dock team won't pre-assign like they're supposed to. It creats more work, but chasing down drivers for that causes safety issues and I'm tired of the write-up threats over it.

Instead I focused on assigning available trailers for pickup when drivers don't get assigned and making sure the exit gate doesn't turn into a dumpster fire because the remote people can't see the bright yellow seal. This is on top of doing moves when I'm in an available truck and assisting with seal cuts/andons when prompted.

With all that said I'm tired and exhausted from the constant flipflop of my hours due to training. I'm having to resist the urge to nap at work during downtime. I would rather take the safe route and go home at that point. So I decided that for a couple shifts if my coworkers were going to say I don't do shit I really would.

Trailers in the yard would get to their proper slips and I would clear tasks, but I wouldn't take it any further than that. I can't go over the road just yet with trucks for the company until the last of my papers clear the system and it won't on the weekend because it has to ship information to the government servers too.

I think at this point I just gotta let my coworkers figure the clerical shit out. I'm always the one on the computer fixing stuff, putting in cases, redirecting and reassigning. I know I'm good at it, but coworkers gotta learn to figure it out themselves.

It's a long rant to say that work is making me tired and I think it's helping me enjoy my naps. Naps are helping me wake up refreshed enough to realize that at this point I've created a villain rant/monoloque and really just need to work on saying no this year. I people please too much still and I need to tell some of my coworkers to just stuff it and figure it out. The resources and processes are there, it's not that hard to read and mange it for most of the daily problems that pop up.

Going to read some now and go take another nap. It felt nice to vent into the void and it felt nice to take like the fattest 3 hour nap of my life after a bath.

[theinkofbabel]

uhhggg... I want to post, be happy, talk with people, genuinely express myself and all the sorts... but fuck me, nobody I live with is even open to the idea of commmunicating openly.

(after the rant post) hehehoo, I am drained from letting my emotions run wild... I don't particularly care if anyone reads this, it's all deeply personal but I just needed to scream it all out into the void of the internet.

Rather disjointed thoughts strung together.

WARNING: TACTICAL RANT POST inbound...

My mom literally went out of her way to make our weekly grocery trip shorter because I expressed that I didn't enjoy her telling me off for assuming (a human function I was taught to do to seem normal) she would get premade pizza dough (like she has for my whole existence) when I wanted to make pizza instead of making my own dough (which I have done before after SAYING I wanted to). She admitted to ASSUMING I wanted to make my own dough because "you like to play around in the kitchen"

SO FUCKING CONDESCENDING!!!

THEN! THEN!!!!! my STEP FATHER decides to speak for me after I make perogies from SCRATCH (was walking around the kitchen for ~4 hours) and ended up with my brats being RAW in the middle. My grandfather (who I don't mind, but am awkward around because he blatantly supports people and things that don't like me very much) was commenting through the afternoon and evening on my cooking and politics. After my step father (who mind you has made no effort to bond with me in the 14 years he has been in my life until now when he complains to my mom that he doesn't feel like I like him very much and he wants to come to the bookstore with us... and when he did he didn't add anything, in fact he made it more stressful by dragging me into the spirit halloween) awkwardly kept commenting that "it's okay to mess up" and "you're still learning" and all that bull shit that he says to try to seem wiser, my grandfather walks through the kitchen and comments about how smokey it was (burnt the brats while cooking them) and this cunt has the audacity to speak for me and say "it's all a part of the learning curve pops" and i cannot help myself but hunch over the stove clenching my fists stopping myself from bursting out to avoid another situation because these people hate when I am calm and I tell them how I feel.

do they have no awareness? for the past 3 and a half years I have sung the praises of speaking with eachother and communicating feelings, my therapist a year ago fully agreed with me and told me to do what I had done in the past, calmly bring up the points of contention (and while me 5-6 ish years ago wasn't so elegant and kept the blame on specific people I haven't done that recently) but still, my family cannot stand being confronted with the fact that they are not perfect, even if they claim they aren't. I haven't even brought up the heavy hitting stuff that made me denounce them when they pinned me down and tore my only friends away from me (literally, had a group chat of friends on my phone and because my rp bio had "girlfriend: taken" in it I was pinned down on the ground and was searched for my phone... love knowing the fact my mom was almost an FBI agent until she got pregnant with me :) ).

i'm going to keep venting, i've been at the breaking point for a few days now and I need it.

The fact that I am what stopped my mom from pursuing the life she wanted to live has done numbers for my self confidence. being told that "you look just like your father when you get mad" makes me ask why I wasn't fucking aborted or put up for adoption. That gets into the territory of darker thoughts that I don't want to go down.

Recently the thoughts that I should have killed myself are surfacing again because now I can't let myself do it, I recognize the value of my life and it makes me sick that I am such an ambitious person for wanting to save someone's life. That is my goal in life, even if it means just adopting a kid and giving them a good life. Hell I fucking was so delusional one day that I imagined a future like that and I had to slap myself upside the head because I have no right to fantasize like that.

I have also recently come to terms with my relationship with religion. I don't particularly have any faith in 1 god, or religion, but I know that I do not have any place in any sort of paradise. I am a betrayer, out of cowardice I ran away and after attempting to run back to the person I can confidently say I loved and still hold feelings for, I even messaged them multiple times without a response before running away the next day, being unable to bring myself to face absolution. The way I speak of them in my head is almost reminiscent of a knight would his charge, I am a deranged fool.

I have come to realize while writing all of this, I crave so much more while saying I don't deserve shit.

I haven't been able to joke around with friends for years, whenever a dirty joke pops into my head I can't just say it I have to trap myself in the corner of my room and giggle to myself as I develop unhealthy coping mechanisms like parasocial relationships. I haven't made a new friend since the beginning of highschool and I got my ged last year.

and of course when I had a group chat of people I actually conversed with during the summer, we all fell apart after 2 of us left the group chat. tldr we were all doing a group rp scenario (first one in years i was interested in and had the confidence to partake in while I was away from home at work).

I miss working... election season makes it so hard to get good work and the places I want to apply is hours away from home.

ANOTHER THING I REMEMBERED THAT MAKES ME MAD!!! My parents are all like "well we didn't get gifted a car for our birthdays when we were your age" but aren't your jobs as parents to make your children's lives better than yours? They've known I've wanted a motorcycle for YEARS and my grandfather has had an extra (not too heavy) motorcycle since before i was born. I now have the money saved up to potentially buy that motorcycle and make it my own, but the thought still counts.

I think I don't deserve the title of a "self made" man, (I don't even think of myself as exclusively a man) but I think I deserve the title of "Independent" because my parents have refused to play a positive part in my life.

In the tale of my life they are not going to be major roles for more than 3 chapters. Not that my life will be a tale of any renown, but the thought still counts...

I so strongly desire to love and be loved, so I hide this sentiment in the bowls of this post so that one day someone may know my desire.

tomorrow i vote for the first time in my life. i wish i was able to drive already so i can do this alone. it would provide me so much clear mindedness. i am going to dress up a bit so I can feel like me when i do it.

god, how i want to just let Koda know how much I still love them. I need to get out of this damnable house so I can cry to them asking for not forgiveness but a chance to get to know them again. I think it's been around 4 years since i ran away from them, and 6 since we met. I need to at least know that they are alive and well.

[musingsofamisfit]

Void

It's become more than I know

Too much to handle all at once

Balance is off and stagnant in it's position

Restructuring is inbound, but am I ready?

The question plagues me, freezing a decision

An attempt at peace stunted by feeling

Not just anger, nor the sadness, both and more

An influx so great they have simmered into numb

Indistinct, inseparable, one mass of nothing that was once everything

Created by a lack of time, energy, devotion to mending what was ruined

How can I convey this power preventing the present?

A guest in my own body, disconnected from the life meant to be mine

Disassociated from experiences I love

Why? Why now? Not knowing only creates a rage who needs answers

Answers I'm afraid to find.

Am I hesitant, because the truth is plain?

~zen

[rispple-blog]

The following was inspired by events that happened in a comment section of a tiktok video. I was graced by both Cody and Rex role players.

MDNI

Word count:1688

Okay Violet you are up.

Running. It seemed that Violet was doing a lot of that lately. Either from or to people and she was getting rather tired of it. She firstly, should have known better when she had landed near an ending battle zone that something was up. Having run into some of the ruins that were left behind in the wake of the war on the planet's surface. Violet almost forgot what she had even come here for, and what she had come for was a small information drop. Reminding herself of this as she ran her hands through a fallen troopers supply pack emptying what wasn’t going to be useful and keeping what she could. Violet needed a new pack for herself and this one wasn’t being used by anyone else. Not anymore.. Kind of sad now that she thought of it. Pushing it away she took a breath practically tasting the mix of blood and oil stagnant in the air. Shaking her head Violet moved to the next one she grabbed what she could. Finding a flare she inspected it closely, noticing that it looked a little strange. It looked broken.. It was in the troopers hand when she found it and looked as though it had backfired a bit. But, what did she know?  

Pausing her eyes landed on the armor on one of the troopers, Orange and White, where had she seen this before? Pushing that away she needed to get to the damn information drop. The sooner she gets the intel the sooner she can be curled up with her cats and sipping her kaf. Away from people was the goal. Hearing a rustling noise she turns her head looking out into the surrounding vegetation. Slowly standing she held the flare out like a gun standing her ground trying to make herself look more than capable. Which to any soldier would be laughable. A small woman standing around 4’11 wouldn’t scare much off.

“I am armed.” She warns but the rustling continues making her heart sink and her stomach come into her throat. She wasn't armed in the way she would have liked. Violet wasn’t good in combat; she had a freeze response… At least with the first surprise hit. Things were different when she was properly prepared. This was supposed to be a non-combat mission. She wondered if her unit knew that when they sent her out here. Swallowing she tried to yell out again but her tongue grew thick and heavy settling down into her mouth. “W-” With the the sound the rustling intensifies then settles making Violet relax and push out a relieved breath before a scream comes ripping out of her throat. A large flash of fur as a large cat pounced past her making her small frame lose balance falling onto her back. Her finger pulls the trigger and the pressure behind the clogged chamber bursts out zipping forward into the sky she feels her elbow solidly hit against the ground. Hitting a nerve that makes her hand go numb. 

Violet’s ears are filled with a loud ringing as she stares up at the battle scarred sky for a moment.

“Copy that.” A stern but hopeful voice comes from the pack that she just threw on her back. “What?” she mumbles, pressing her palm to her right eye as she sits up. Now she was hearing things. Great. Wonderful. fan-fucking-tastic.

“We are locked on your position.” The voice comes again making Violet’s eyes widen.

“Locked… onto my position..” Violet says it as she stands shaky until she realizes what that means. Taking a step she sways a bit feeling some pain on the back of her head. She must have hit her head..

“212th inbound.” The voice says, paired with the sound of a shuttle, Violet's eyes widen wide and round like an innocent cat about to play with something new. But, this was out of… fear? Anxiety? Being caught for taking a dead person's stuff? Was that even stealing? Feeling her chest bloom into an empty void like her heart stopped time felt as though it was standing still. How did you breathe again? Before she knew it the air around her started to whip violently around her and her feet took her in the direction that the large cat went. The cat went this way so it was good enough for her. Rushing and not paying attention where she was going Violet didn’t notice the deep slope of terrain she was running towards. 

Just as she skids and starts to fall forward a strong arm snaps around her middle jerking her backwards against his armor. A startled shout comes from her throat as her bad ragdolls back against whoever it was. A grunt comes from the man as he takes a few steps back from the ledge.

“Why did you run?” He asks carefully, noticing that the woman wasn’t one of his troopers. He knew right away when he spotted her rushing off as they landed. 

“I didn’t know it would work..” She manages to breathe out as she rests against him trying to process what had happened. “There… was a cat." Violet felt her brows come together as the man maneuvers her farther away from the ledge. He stops when his back hits a tree making her flinch a little. “I heard rustling and I didn’t know and it jumped at me and I fell..”

“I see.” He says Violet felt like he was giving her a disapproving look. 

“What are you doing out here?” He asks curiously, making her aware of why she was out there.A sigh pushes past her lips as her head drops back on the armor relaxing a bit. It had been a while since she was held in any shape. Even though this was a stranger and she hated strangers he did just save her from flings herself off a cliff.. So… He couldn’t be that bad right?

If he was bad he would have let her die, or killed her right? Maybe yell at her for stealing his friends' stuff? Or maybe.. He is waiting to yell at her or something worse… 

“If you tell me I might be able to help you.” He offers making her look up at him, craning a bit at the odd angle she gets a glimpse of his orange visor.

“I was looking for an information drop. I didn’t realize it was in the battle zone or the leftovers..” Violet manages feeling a little more grounded; she feels him loosen his hold and drop his arm from her middle. Stepping away she turns in time to watch him pull off his helmet. Black hair, piercing brown eyes, and a scar framed from his temple down around to his cheek bone branching just slightly making it look like lightning. If she hadn’t been in the situation she was in she would have run from him. Just because… he is attractive. “Oh..” Violet whispers softly.

“Is something wrong?” He questions getting a flustered head shake as she pulls out her datapad and quickly tries to bring up the ping tracker. 

“N-no.” Violet stutters causing him to chuckle softly watching her struggle he reaches and brings up the tracker. 

“Seems like something is wrong.”  He comments watching her practically dance away from him. It makes him arch his brow barely noticeable. 

“Nothing is wrong.” Violet says nervously fighting herself for her life internally as she panics. She starts off in the direction of the ping. The trooper follows her like a shadow finding the silence comforting although it was everything but comforting to Violet. She was now hyper aware of the man shadowing her. “You don’t have to help me.”

“I’m not going anywhere until I know you have what you need and you have gone.” He says matter-of-factly. Violet tried to control her internal workings as they walked; it felt like an eternity until her eyes landed on a slim piece of technology tucked up into a tree. A sigh of relief comes from her as she walks over and stares up at it.

“Sent the short one for a tall person's job again..” She mumbles to herself as the man that had been following her reaches up easily and pulls it down.

“Violet, did you manage to get the drop?” Alexandra’s voice chirps through the com link on her wrist.

“May I have that?” Violet asks looking up at him she takes her pack off and offers him a snack as a trade. “Food for helping me?”

“Cody, we are due back at the temple.” A voice cracks through Cody’s helmet as he takes the snack looking it over. It looked good and looked a lot better than the rations they would be given. His lips twitch a bit as he hands over the technology she puts it safely in the pack. 

“Okay.. Sounds like you have to go!” Violet says hurriedly and as Cody opens his mouth “Me too. Bye Cody.” She rushes out as she sprints towards the direction of her transport rather blindly leaving Cody behind with his snack. Her feet carried her and her heart hammered as she desperately tried to get enough distance between her and the attractive man. As her feet hit the ramp of her transport she falls and skids as it shuts and Alexandra puts their ship into gear. “We saw a flare and didn’t know if you needed help.” Alexandra says focusing on getting them off the ground. 

“I’d rather fly ships than do that again.” Violet says softly rolling and staring at the ceiling.

“It couldn’t have been that bad.” Alexandra says scoffing a bit.

“Violet, thank you for the snack.” Cody’s voice chirps through her com making her sit up quick enough and stare at it screaming. How the hell did he link up to her comms?

“What the- Are you okay back there? Who was that?” Alexandra asks, looking over her shoulder as Violet looks like she is stuck in her emotions. She listens to Violet try to explain through strangled speech before slowly nodding.  “Okay… we will talk about this in a minute... Better yet, when we get back to base.”

[tipco613]

New Post has been published on http://cryptonewsuniverse.com/how-inbound-marketing-fuels-disruptive-innovation-a-guide-for-forward-thinking-entrepreneurs/

How Inbound Marketing Fuels Disruptive Innovation: A Guide for Forward-Thinking Entrepreneurs

How Inbound Marketing Fuels Disruptive Innovation: A Guide for Forward-Thinking Entrepreneurs

In today's fast-paced and rapidly evolving business landscape, traditional marketing strategies are no longer sufficient to drive innovation. To stay ahead of the curve, forward-thinking businesses turn to inbound marketing as a powerful tool to fuel disruptive innovation. In this guide, we will explore the concept of inbound marketing, its role in fostering disruptive innovation, and the benefits it offers to entrepreneurs.

Inbound marketing is a strategic approach focusing on attracting, engaging, and delighting customers through valuable content and experiences. Unlike traditional outbound marketing, which relies on interruptive tactics like cold calling and advertising, inbound marketing aims to build long-term relationships with customers by providing them with relevant and helpful information. By leveraging content marketing, social media, and search engine optimization (SEO), inbound marketing creates a magnet-like effect, organically drawing customers to your business.

Understanding Disruptive Innovation

To understand how inbound marketing fuels disruptive innovation, we must first grasp the concept of disruptive innovation itself. Disruptive innovation refers to the process by which a new product or service disrupts an existing market by offering a unique value proposition. This innovation often starts at the fringes of the market, targeting underserved customers with a novel solution that addresses their unmet needs.

Disruptive innovation challenges the status quo, and forces established players to adapt or risk becoming obsolete. Examples of disruptive innovations include the advent of smartphones, which revolutionized the telecommunications industry, and online streaming services, which disrupted the traditional television and movie rental market. By leveraging inbound marketing, businesses can identify and capitalize on disruptive innovations that have the potential to shape the future.

Now, here's where inbound marketing steps in. Businesses can spot these disruptive innovations early on by using inbound marketing techniques, like creating engaging content or building strong relationships with potential customers. This means they can get in on the action and take advantage of these groundbreaking ideas before they become mainstream. So, inbound marketing isn't just about attracting customers—it's also about staying ahead of the curve and spotting the next big thing that could shape the future.

The Role of Inbound Marketing in Fueling Disruptive Innovation

Inbound marketing is like the fuel for those game-changing, disruptive ideas. It gives them a stage to shine on and get noticed. Imagine you've got this amazing new solution to a problem nobody's really tackled yet. Inbound marketing helps you get the word out in a way that grabs people's attention.

First, you create content that speaks to the folks who are feeling the pain of that problem you're solving. This content pulls them in because it's all about their struggles and how your solution can improve their lives. So, those early adopters who are always eager to try something new are drawn to what you're offering.

Then, you've got this storytelling magic. You're not just selling a product; you're telling a story about how it can change lives. That storytelling creates a buzz, gets people talking, and excites them about what you're doing.

But it's not just about getting attention; it's about learning too. With inbound marketing, you're not just shouting into the void. You're having conversations with real people, your potential customers, on social media and other digital platforms. And those conversations? They're gold mines of information. You get to hear directly from the people you want to serve, understanding their needs and preferences better than ever before.

And here's the kicker: You can take all that feedback and use it to improve your idea. It's like having a direct line to your customers' brains. You tweak and refine your solution based on what they tell you, making it even more tailored to their needs. And that, my friend, increases your chances of hitting it big with your disruptive innovation.

Benefits of Using Inbound Marketing for Businesses

Businesses that embrace inbound marketing as a strategy to fuel disruptive innovation stand to gain numerous benefits. Firstly, inbound marketing provides a cost-effective alternative to traditional marketing methods. By focusing on creating valuable content and leveraging digital channels, businesses can reach their target audience at a fraction of the cost of conventional advertising. This is particularly advantageous for startups and early-stage ventures with limited marketing budgets.

Secondly, inbound marketing allows businesses to build a brand that resonates with their target audience. By consistently delivering valuable content and engaging with customers, companies can establish themselves as thought leaders and gain credibility in their respective industries. This brand equity not only attracts customers but also attracts potential partners, collaborators, and talent who align with the investor's vision for disruptive innovation.

Lastly, inbound marketing offers a long-term and sustainable approach to customer acquisition. By nurturing leads through valuable content and personalized experiences, businesses can build a loyal customer base that continues to support their disruptive innovations. This customer-centric approach fosters customer loyalty and advocacy, driving organic growth and reducing reliance on costly customer acquisition strategies.

Case Studies of Successful Disruptive Innovations Fueled by Inbound Marketing

TESLA To illustrate the power of inbound marketing in fueling disruptive innovation, let's explore some real-world case studies. One such example is the electric vehicle manufacturer Tesla. Through their innovative electric cars and sustainable energy solutions, Tesla disrupted the automotive industry. By leveraging inbound marketing strategies through unconventional marketing strategies, Tesla created a passionate community of early adopters who championed their mission and helped propel the company to success.

Tesla is known for its innovative and unconventional marketing strategies that rely on creating an emotional connection with its audience and strengthening its brand presence. Tesla does not use traditional paid advertising but instead focuses on word-of-mouth, social media, influencer partnerships, and launch events to generate buzz and awareness. Tesla also leverages the popularity and influence of its CEO, Elon Musk, who often engages with his followers and fans on various platforms.

Tesla’s marketing strategy can be considered a form of inbound marketing, which is a method of attracting, engaging, and delighting customers by providing valuable and relevant content and experiences. Inbound marketing aims to build trust and loyalty with the audience rather than interrupting them with unwanted ads. Tesla’s marketing strategy is aligned with its mission and vision of creating a sustainable, clean-energy future.

AIRBNB Airbnb shook up the traditional hotel industry by revolutionizing how people find places to stay when they travel. Instead of relying solely on hotels, Airbnb introduced a platform where regular folks could rent their homes or spare rooms to travelers. This concept opened up a whole new world of accommodation options, giving travelers a chance to experience local neighborhoods and immerse themselves in the culture of their destination.

One of the keys to Airbnb's success was harnessing the power of user-generated content (UGC). By allowing users to post reviews, photos, and stories about their stays, Airbnb built a sense of trust and transparency lacking in the traditional hotel booking process. People could see real-life experiences from other travelers, helping them make more informed decisions about where to stay.

Through clever inbound marketing strategies, Airbnb was able to spread the word about its platform and attract both hosts and guests. They leveraged partnerships to reach a broad audience and establish themselves as a trusted brand in the travel industry.

You can see how Airbnb's innovative approach to accommodation has transformed how people travel and opened up new opportunities for hosts and guests. By tapping into the sharing economy and prioritizing user-generated content, Airbnb has become a powerhouse in the travel industry, changing how people think about where they stay when they're away from home.

These case studies demonstrate how inbound marketing can drive awareness, generate excitement, and build a loyal customer base for disruptive innovations.

How to Implement Inbound Marketing Strategies for Your Business

Now that we understand the importance of inbound marketing in fueling disruptive innovation let's explore how businesses can implement these strategies effectively. Firstly, defining your target audience and understanding their pain points and needs is crucial. This will enable you to create valuable content that resonates with your audience and establishes your expertise in the field of disruptive innovation.

Next, develop a content marketing strategy that aligns with your target audience's preferences and habits. This may involve creating blog posts, videos, podcasts, or other types of content that provide insights, thought leadership, and solutions to their challenges. Distribute this content through various channels, such as your website, social media platforms, and industry publications, to maximize its reach and impact.

In addition to content marketing, leverage social media platforms to engage with your audience and build relationships. Actively participate in relevant industry discussions, respond to comments and inquiries, and share valuable insights. Being present and active on social media can establish yourself as a trusted resource and attract a community of like-minded individuals passionate about disruptive innovation.

Leveraging Markethive for Inbound Marketing in Disruptive Innovation

One powerful tool that businesses can leverage for inbound marketing in disruptive innovation is Markethive. Here at Markethive, we have built a comprehensive inbound marketing platform that provides a suite of tools and resources to help businesses attract, engage, and nurture leads. With content marketing, social media integration, and lead management features, Markethive empowers enterprises to implement inbound marketing strategies effectively and efficiently.

Markethive's intuitive interface and user-friendly features make it accessible to businesses of all levels of experience. Whether you are a seasoned business or just starting out, Markethive provides the tools you need to build a dynamic online presence and drive disruptive innovation.

Inbound marketing is a powerful strategy that aligns with the principles of disruptive innovation. This kind of marketing does not rely on interrupting or annoying customers with unwanted ads or messages but rather on earning their trust and loyalty by providing helpful information and experiences. Inbound marketing also enables businesses to measure and optimize their performance based on customer data and feedback.

Markethive leverages inbound marketing to create a gigantic and disruptive inbound marketing ecosystem. Markethive offers tools and services that empower entrepreneurs, businesses, and organizations to generate leads, build relationships, and grow their brands online. Markethive's ecosystem includes a social network, a blogging platform, an email marketing system, a video hosting service, a webinar service, a CRM system, a marketplace, and more. Markethive's ecosystem is designed to be accessible, affordable, and scalable for anyone who wants to benefit from the power of inbound marketing. Markethive's ecosystem is also driven by blockchain technology, which ensures security, transparency, and decentralization.

By using inbound marketing, Markethive is disrupting the traditional outbound marketing industry, dominated by expensive and ineffective advertising platforms. Markethive is creating a new paradigm of marketing that is customer-centric, value-driven, and innovation-oriented. Markethive is building not only a gigantic and disruptive inbound marketing ecosystem but also a community of like-minded entrepreneurs who share a vision of changing the world for the better.

Measuring the Success of Inbound Marketing in Fueling Disruptive Innovation

To assess the effectiveness of inbound marketing in driving disruptive innovation, it's essential to set up key performance indicators (KPIs) and track relevant metrics. These indicators help measure various aspects of inbound marketing efforts and their impact on innovation within a business. 

One crucial metric to monitor is website traffic. This includes tracking the number of visitors to the company's website over time. Increased website traffic can indicate successful inbound marketing efforts, as it suggests that more people are discovering and engaging with the brand online.

Lead conversion rates are another important KPI to consider. This metric measures the percentage of website visitors who take a desired action, such as signing up for a newsletter or requesting more information. Higher conversion rates suggest that the inbound marketing strategies effectively capture potential customers' interest and prompt them to take action.

Social media engagement is also vital in evaluating the effectiveness of inbound marketing. This includes metrics such as likes, shares, comments, and retweets on social media platforms. A high level of engagement indicates that the content being shared resonates with the audience and encourages interaction, which can lead to increased brand awareness and loyalty.

Customer retention rates provide insight into the long-term impact of inbound marketing efforts. By tracking the percentage of customers who continue to purchase from the company over time, businesses can assess the effectiveness of their marketing strategies in building lasting relationships with customers.

Regularly monitoring these metrics and analyzing the data allows businesses to gain valuable insights into the performance of their inbound marketing strategies. By identifying areas of strength and areas for improvement, companies can make informed decisions to optimize their marketing efforts and drive continuous innovation within their organization.

Conclusion and Key Takeaways

Inbound marketing has emerged as a powerful tool for forward-thinking businesses looking to fuel disruptive innovation. By attracting, engaging, and delighting customers through valuable content and experiences, inbound marketing creates a platform for disruptive ideas to gain traction. Through case studies and real-world examples, we have seen how inbound marketing can drive awareness, build a loyal customer base, and ultimately transform industries.

To implement inbound marketing strategies effectively, businesses can leverage the full suite of tools in Markethive. Businesses can continually refine their strategies and drive disruptive innovation by measuring the success of their inbound marketing efforts through relevant metrics.

In conclusion, embracing inbound marketing as a strategy for fueling disruptive innovation is a wise choice for forward-thinking entrepreneurs. By leveraging the power of inbound marketing, businesses can navigate the ever-changing business landscape and stay at the forefront of disruptive innovation.

    About: Prince Ibenne. (Nigeria) Prince is passionate about helping people understand the crypto-verse through his easily digestible articles. He is an enthusiastic supporter of blockchain technology and cryptocurrency. Find me at my Markethive Profile Page | My Twitter Account | and my LinkedIn Profile.