#ripple overview

[marketingprofitmedia]

Ripple App Review — Facebook Optimization Algorithm

Welcome to my Ripple App Review Post. This is a real user-based Ripple App review where I will focus on the features, upgrades, demo, pricing, how Ripple App can help you, and my opinion. This is it! AI App That Let Us “Legally” Hack Into Facebook’sOptimization Algorithm Banking Us $793.95 In Daily Profits.

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Ripple App Review: Product Overview

Creator: Venkata Ramana

Product: Ripple

Launch Date: 2023-Dec-11

Launch Time: 11:00 EST

Front End Price: $17

Product Type: Software (Online), Video

Refund: Yes, 90 Days Money-Back Guarantee

Support: Effective Response

Recommended: Highly Recommended

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No Need Skill Level: All Levels

Ripple App Review: Key Features

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Ripple App Review — How Ripple App Work?

Ripple App Review: Who Can Do for Ripple App?

Caption Creation: Ripple App excels in creating unique and varied captions for Facebook posts, accommodating a variety of tones and styles.

Post Generation from Links: It may produce Facebook posts automatically by extracting material from other sources such as blog articles or product sites.

Multi-Language material Translation: Ripple makes things more accessible to people all over the world by translating material into 140 different languages.

Matching Templates: By uploading existing material, users may utilise Ripple’s matching templates to speed the development of consistent content across several platforms.

Content Repurposing: The tool recognises and repurposes successful postings, guaranteeing constant engagement via proven content methods.

Realistic Art Generation: It distinguishes itself by producing realistic images from word prompts, making it excellent for blog posts, social graphics, and online visuals.

Design Prototyping: Ripple is a useful tool for creating prototypes, providing a visual basis to assist following development phases.

Holiday-Specific material: The Ripple App excels at providing relevant captions customised for forthcoming holidays, ensuring timely and contextually appropriate material.

Customisable Graphics: The software has complex visual settings, such as the ability to establish translucent backdrops, modify aspect ratios, and choose certain art styles.

Idea Generation: Ripple helps users come up with creative post ideas based on buzzwords or themes, giving them the freedom to expand on good ideas.

Business Graphic Templates: Ripple has templates for slideshows, papers, and more to meet all of your business graphic needs.

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Ripple App Review: Who Can Use Ripple App?

Affiliate Marketers

Blogger

Business Owners

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Product Creators

Ecommerce Store Owners

Content Creators

Agency Owners

Freelancers

Ripple App Review: OTO’S And Pricing

Front End Price : Ripple App ($17)

OTO 1: Ripple App Unlimited Edition ($37.97)

OTO 2: Ripple App Done For You Edition ($197)

OTO 3: Ripple App Autopilot ($37.97)

OTO 4: Ripple App DFY Affiliate Funnels ($97)

OTO 5: Ripple App 25K Profit System ($27)

OTO 6: Ripple App Viral Plug & Play DFY Reels ($97)

OTO 7: Ripple App Kaboom ($37.97)

OTO 8: Ripple App Agency & Reseller Edition ($47)

Ripple App Review: Free Bonuses

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Ripple App Review: Money Back Guarantee

Ripple App : Frequently Asked Questions

Q. Do I need any experience to get started?

None, all you need is an internet connection. And you’re good to go

Q. Is there any monthly cost?

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Q. How long does it take to make money?

Our average member made their first sale the same day they got access to Ripple

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Conclusion

Ripple app offers a unique and useful service in a number of different apps. Its intuitive design, flexible features, and useful functions make it a great choice for people who want easy answers in their personal or work lives. You will be able to get focused traffic for free that you can turn into private income. We strongly advise you to use the Ripple app to get an endless supply of free, focused traffic from Facebook that you can turn into passive income.

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Thank for reading my Ripple app Review till the end. Hope it will help you to make purchase decision perfectly.

[victonair]

“Maybe this time” - Azul Ashengrotto x reader

Fallen in love with Azul during your time in NRC, you had never gained the chance to confess to him in his final year: you were too late and your chance was lost in the winds of time. After graduating, you find yourself moving on with life and moving on from him, even opening a bakery and coffee shop in a small town near the sea. It was a perfect life for you - and it was all you could ever want. But when he shows up at your bakery one day, you’re not so sure you had everything you wanted in life anymore.

Or rather

In which, you fell in love with Azul in Highschool and after years of moping - you move on. But when he shows up out of the blue one day, you begin to question if you’ve really ever moved on in the first place.

Author’s Note: I enjoyed writing this! I was brainrotting about this concept so I decided to! Aside from this update, I finally got my first request!!! I’m overjoyed and to whoever decided to request me, I’ll be finished with it within a week or so as I’m quite busy with school. In fact, I have a test tomorrow…Oh well, please do enjoy the fic! Also, this fic is based off the song “Maybe this time” by Sarah Geronimo so check it out if you want!

Content Warnings: Not exactly hurt/comfort, more you moved on from the hurt first and then went again into hurt, then finally comfort. Gender-neutral reader. And lastly, amateur writing and off-pacing since the author wrote this at 3 am in the morning.

-

Moving on in life was a daunting challenge that could strike fear into most people’s hearts, because often, new things and routines either intimidated people or raised dislike for most. For many people, change was a facet of life they weren’t ready for, thinking that things would stay like that forever - the happiness, the pain, the routine; it was something that most people thought would stay for forever to come. But, really, does everything truly last forever? In some cases, people think so - but when life hits them in the face with change, it becomes a clear answer.

“A latte and a slice of cake, please!”

In some cases, things last forever - but not for yours. It seemed back then that the pain of Azul leaving and graduating, as well as the fact that you never conveyed your true feelings to him would stay forever. But through years of work, moping, reflection, and the best support system you could ever ask for - you finally moved on with your life and haven’t looked back since. Since you’ve graduated, you took to working yourself to death at first, but after a lot of reflection and coping - you decided to relax and take a hobby.

Which is how you landed with owning a bakery and coffee shop, even moving to a small town by the seaside since they had no late-night coffee shops and a bakery built - and so you took it upon yourself to set up one yourself. You thank the Lord on high that Azul was able to teach you basic business skills in able to set this up and how to know your audience - luckily, the townsfolk were quite appreciative and friendly which led you to become part of the community quickly.

“Sure! Order up!”

A smile on your face was evident as you made the latte and put the pastry on the plate. You were thriving; you had been thriving for years in this small and cozy community. It was the epitome of peace and coziness in this village, where the wind was different and fresh and where you were awoken by the sounds of bargaining in the market nearby. You had made the right decision in moving on from the pain of the past, instead moving and focusing on the future.

The regular at your shop smiled at you, taking the latte and pastry from the tray and sitting in one of the seats that overviewed the peaceful view of the sea: from the ripples from the waves visible for all to see, to the seagulls that flew in the air above, peacefully flying and searching for food - and to the townsfolk greeting you from outside the window with a smile and nod.

You were satisfied and content with what you had, you wouldn’t look back to the past not anymore - it was better to focus on the future instead.

Continuing your work, you spent your time idly making tasty caffeinated drinks and delectable pastries that was part of the reason you charmed most of the town’s hearts. It was the reason you had so many regulars at your shop, after all. And when it was closing time, you sat down and smiled at what you had done.

Before you could start closing up the store, you heard the bell ring and a smooth yet familiar voice filling the cafe, “Excuse me, are you still open?”

Looking towards the door, you expected yourself to smile and greet the new customer - you recognized every voice in this town and this one was certainly a new one. And yes, that was how well acquainted you were with each villager. But instead of smiling, you found yourself freezing in place and your mouth dropping slightly.

There was little to surprise you these days; you had borne the brunt of overblots, emotional breakdowns, and while violence was nothing to you - you had gotten used to peace as well. Peace from the people around you and the support you had gotten to those dear to you. There was little to shock and surprise you with, and yet right at this moment, you found your knees weakening, rooted to the same spot.

“…”

Silence was often a peaceful presence in your life, it helped you reflect through your days and things you’ve done - however, as of the moment, you wished you could break the silence yourself. For a while, quiet emanated through the shop as you observed the one person who you hadn’t seen or never expected to see till the day you died (or a school reunion at least): Azul.

When he graduated from NRC and left for internships, you had been an emotional wreck - knowing him, he was going to the farthest place and most successful companies to study and work under them. And you were right. He had gone to study and intern under one of the most successful companies in Twisted Wonderland.

Supposedly, you were going to confess your feelings to him back then, but the moment he was boarding the transportation to his final destination - you couldn’t do it. You just couldn’t. You froze and said one word to him, which was ‘Bye’. And you’ve regretted that decision ever since, it was one of the things you regret, but you’ve taught yourself to move on so it didn’t really matter anymore, did it?

“Well, aren’t you going to take my order?” His voice rang in your ears like a siren’s enchanting voice, beckoning you to reminisce on memories of the past. You were almost tempted to, until you realized what he said - making you immediately snap out of the frozen state and rush to the counter to take the order.

He had an amused smile on his face; he looked so similar yet so different to his past. His features were more matured, while he styled his hair in the same way with his curls - he had the same beauty mark, the same cunning eyes, and most of all: he looked as beautiful as the day he had left you.

“Right. W-What would you like?” Your smile was more wobbly than usual, while your voice was more strained

“Just a simple hot latte, please.” He responded, his head was tilted as he smiled at you; this was the same smile that had you on your knees in NRC.

God, you loved that smile.

At a loss for words, you got to work on his latte - inputting the correct amount of coffee and milk into the mixture - including a cute frothy image of a heart on top. It was the only one you knew how to concoct, and somehow, giving it to him made your heart skip a beat in embarrassment. As soon as you served it, he took a sip and smiled at you politely.

“It’s really good, [Name].”

He remembered you. Well, of course he remembered you; the late nights at his office and the time you spent together wouldn’t have resulted in him forgetting you. So, why in the first place, did you question if he forgot you in the first place? You were stupid, that was for certain.

“What would be better, however, is if you sat down and caught up with me.” He directed a polite smile towards you, a calm demeanor, the complete opposite of your current state. But following his words, you nodded and mumbled one word that fell from your lips:

“Okay.”

What ensued was a long conversation that was the both of you reminiscing over what was missed and what was done.

-

From the evening to the point where the sun was arising from its slumber, both of you had talked and laughed from the stories you had shared; for hours, you were graced with his presence and smile - and within the short period of time, you could feel yourself resorting to old memories and habits that you had with him. It was the way you smiled and laughed with him, cracking jokes and references that only the both of you could decipher. To him, it may have been a brief meet-up with an old schoolmate and friend, but to you? It was everything that the past you would’ve wanted.

By the time dawn had come, the both of you had glanced at each other like old lovers meeting each other once again after a brief exit out of each other’s lives a long time ago. It was unnoticeable to you, yet it didn’t go unnoticed to him.

“Are you leaving now?” You couldn’t hide the disappointment within your eyes, a small frown on your face as you held back from holding his hand - a gesture of wanting him to stay with you, obvious that you were pleading for him to stop his leave, and for for just this once: choose you.

“Don’t look so sullen. I’ll be staying here for a month, it’s my vacation. Jade is temporarily handling matters for me, and will only report to me if there’s an emergency.” He responded while sipping another cup of tea you had given him while the both of you were talking through the night.

Despite such a long period, the only thoughts entering your head was for him to stay longer, just a bit longer, just so you could relish his presence and his charming smile even more. You wanted him to stay, to let yourself go and feel the same things that you felt back in high school. You wanted the same chats, more time with him, and what you took for granted back then - to now be cherished.

You wanted a chance, a chance to do what you never did back then. To cherish the time you spent with him, and to finally express your old feelings to him - to live with no regrets afterwards.

“Promise you’ll see me everyday?” You crack a smile on your face, one that was filled with varying emotions: nostalgia, happiness, and courage - it was something you didn’t hide. You couldn’t.

Azul’s face wasn’t poised with a smile, instead his cheeks were coated with a light pink blush as he took in your features. But after a few moments, he smiled back - a smile filled with various emotions as well, feelings that you were too oblivious to pick up on.

“Of course. We have a deal.”

“I wonder if I’m going to get scammed.”

“How cruel of you, I wouldn’t scam one of my dearest old schoolmates.”

“We both know you would.”

-

The rest of the month was blissful, something different from the sort of peace you’re used to. The peace you had when you moved into the village was something you were grateful for, but this was an entirely different experience that you treasured every moment of. Days were spent exploring the town, baking with you, or going to the beach and looking to the ocean where he was reminded of his home. Every moment was sweet and domestic, and you didn’t realize it at first, but somehow - each time your eyes met with soft gazes, each time both of your hands intertwined, and when both of you hugged - it rekindled what you felt initially for Azul into a bright blazing fire of feelings.

You didn’t know what to do but simply laugh when you realized it. Because, how could you? The time you spent healing, reflecting, and spending on yourself, was it all for naught? How could you do this to yourself? When you already know he’d be leaving you by the end of the month, and in turn leaving your life once more. Once again, you were left a pondering and an emotional mess.

You wanted to cherish your time with him, but how could you now? There was. A couple of days left, and you realized something major: you had never really moved on in the first place. How could you see his face without your heart aching in turmoil and the pain of losing him once more? You’d be back to step one, back to how you were like after he graduated.

But despite that, you forced yourself to spend time with him, and unsurprisingly, it makes your heart twist in pain. But you did it, you wouldn’t let him depart without you saying goodbye.

“Doesn’t this remind you of something?”

You had chosen to go stargazing with him as the final activity both of you would enjoy together. You were supposed to be happy, but all you could really think of was how you’d lose him just tomorrow. And what’s more is the fact that this was what you both did together back in NRC before he graduated, you took him to Ramshackle and would gaze at the fireflies and stars.

“Yeah…it sure does.” Your voice was strained, but you managed to clear it out before he noticed it. “Ramshackle was the perfect place for stargazing.”

A peaceful silence made its way to the environment, the only sound being the breeze blowing against both of your skins. The moonlight shone upon each and every little thing, and you really only noticed it as you looked at Azul - his skin glowing as the moonlight showcased every little ethereal detail about him. He looked like a deity under the moonlight.

At that moment, all you could really do was observe his features, admiring them as you’d done in high school when you stargazed with him back then. Then, you laughed. You laughed until you ran out of breath, and until Azul stared at you with curiosity within his gaze.

He smiled at you while chuckling from your laugh, “What’s so funny?”

You took to staring at the stars above instead of staring at him this time, and it helped ease your pain just a little, “I’m thinking. I’m thinking about how stupid I am.”

“You’re not. You passed at NRC, after all.” His reply was disapproving of your words.

Humming in reply, you admired the stars, not bothering to meet his questioning gaze. “No, I’m not thinking about in terms of academics. I’m thinking how stupid I am emotionally - how could I do this to myself?”

You didn’t really care anymore about what happened next, you needed the burden and regret to pass. And so you spoke.

“How could I allow myself to fall in love with you once more? I’m just…frustrated with myself at this point. Once is enough, twice is questionable at this point. Even after years of not seeing you, how is it that I find myself feeling like I did back then within a month?”

Your words were exasperated and tired, it was a wave of emotions and feelings that you were releasing onto him. Unsaid words that were left alone when he was about to leave back then, finally came rushing to the surface.

“I-I don’t understand myself. Just why? I thought I had moved on, but I don’t think I have. I find myself wanting you wholly, to have you within my arms for the time to come and the years wasted on not having you.” You adjust yourself to meet him eye-to-eye, and the only thing you see when you do is a stare with an.indescribable expression. “I’ve loved you since back then, and while things may change, and time will pass - somehow, I think these cursed feelings of mine will change.”

“Forgive me, please. I never wanted these feelings-“

Tears brimmed at the tears of your eyes as you pleaded for forgiveness from him, only to be interrupted with soft lips pressed onto your own. You freeze and after a short moment, his lips detach from your own. “Are you aware that I’ve loved you for as long as you have?” His expression is still indescribable, but with the way his fingers intertwine with yours - you could tell that he was sincere.

“I love you, and I have for a long time. I…just didn’t know if you reciprocated - I came here with the sole intention of confessing what I’ve felt for years to you. So please, just repeat what you feel for me and if it’s truly not what I heard, then I depart the next day and leave forevermore.”

In an instant, you say three words that confirm that everything isn’t just a dream for him, “I love you.” And immediately, he kisses you once more - cupping your cheek in his hand as he pours the years of pent-up affection and feelings into how he touches you so lovingly and gently to the way his lips meld over yours.

And as dawn soon comes, he does not leave, instead he stays; he stays within the boundaries of your loving arms, as you stay in his as well.

[daydreamtofiction]

The Feature XXIII // Benedict Cumberbatch x Reader

Series Overview | Previous Part | First Part

Chapter Summary: (Female Reader) Ben and Quinn's relationship continues to flourish, but an unexpected encounter threatens to throw a spanner in the works.

Chapter Word Count: 6.3K

Chapter Warnings: Morally-grey reader, strong language, adult and sexual themes. Readers must be 18+

Join the Tag List Here*

The sun sat low behind the skyline, making the clouds blush, drenching everything in a gleaming golden hue. You sat with your legs crossed under the long table, laptop open in front of you as the conference room slowly filled with people, the murmur of conversation and scent of coffee drifting in with them. 

The chair beside you creaked and a hand quickly reached over to mash on your keyboard, forming a line of gibberish across the blank word document. You rolled your eyes, smacking the top of Nick’s hand before turning to him with an unamused glare. 

He smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Not like you to be the first one at a meeting.” 

“Mm, well I’ve been coming into the office to write. Been here all day,” you replied, sighing as you glanced back to the empty page on the screen. “Can’t focus at home. Too many distractions.”

“Tall, rich, handsome distractions…” 

“No,” you said bluntly, though there was a part of you that secretly agreed with him. “I just… If I try to write at home I just end up watching TV or falling asleep or… suddenly realising I haven’t seen my passport in a year and turning the place upside down to look for it.” 

“How’s it going?” 

“I found it, it was in an old makeup bag in my bathroom cabinet.” 

“Not the passport, dick head, the writing.” 

“Oh.” You sighed. “Well I had a few edits I needed to do for the gala article, then I wrote a listicle about moisturisers. Thrilling stuff.” 

He nodded. “You’re still fuming about your op ed, aren’t you.” 

“Yep.” 

Julia stepped into the room, closing the door behind her and making her way to the large windows. You watched as she lowered the blinds, shielding the room from the bright evening sun as she began to speak. 

“Hello everyone,” she began, her tone cheerful yet commanding. “Thank you all for coming in. Just a quick one today to delegate some coverage pieces.” 

You placed your fingers on the keys of your laptop, eyes fixed on her as she moved to the head of the table, Leo McGrath’s advice still ringing in your ears. 

“Let’s see,” she said, licking her thumb and flicking through a folder in front of her. “I need someone to cover an exhibition at the London Fashion and Textile museum this Friday-”

“I’ll do it,” you said. 

She arched her brow sceptically, before shaking it away and scrawling your name down with her pen. “Okay great. Then we also have a launch party for Roe - some influencer’s new makeup brand apparently-”

“I’ll do that too,” you said. 

A few of the other writers glanced at you in confusion, your willingness to volunteer so surprising that they couldn’t help but stare. 

“Okay…” said Julia suspiciously. “And Draft’s been invited to a Q&A for-”

“I’ll do it.” 

“Quinn, you haven’t even heard what it is yet,” she said, holding back the urge to snap at you. 

You heard Nick chuckling quietly to himself. You ignored it and gave a shrug. 

“Just… feel like taking on more work, that’s all,” you said. 

“Right, well the beauty launch and the Q&A are on the same night,” she replied. “One in Chelsea and one in Mayfair. So are you planning to teleport between them?” 

A murmur of reserved laughter rippled around the table. 

“Fine, well someone else can do the Q&A,” you said. “Or, y’know, I’ll figure out the teleportation thing.” 

Julia rolled her eyes, turning her attention to someone else. 

“You’re going to send her into early retirement,” Nick whispered to you. 

You breathed out a laugh. “I’m an editorial assistant’s worst nightmare.” 

You returned to your desk after the meeting, scrolling through pages of reviews to figure out which moisturiser would take the number one spot on your listicle. It was mind numbing, pointless, filling you with the temptation to find the worst rated cream and give it a glowing write up, just to mess with readers, see how many complaints you could rack up.

Your phone buzzed on the desk. You rubbed your eyes, blinking away the glare of the computer screen before looking down at it, your mood immediately shifting to something less weary. 

Are you still in work? It read.

I am, you replied, catching a smile before it spread across your face. 

Are you almost done? 

I can be done whenever I want. Why?  

I’m outside the building.

Your heartbeat quickened, and you grimaced to yourself in embarrassment. Yet still you packed up quickly, shoving everything into your bag and rushing to the stairs, too impatient to wait for the lift.  

You stepped out onto the street, the air cold as it brushed across your skin, despite the glorious sky. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you glanced up and down the busy street, brow furrowed as you searched for him amongst the sea of pedestrians. 

A familiar black car sat idled further up the road, wheels bumped up on the kerb, tinted windows shrouding the driver in darkness. You made your way over to it, peering down as the passenger window lowered, just enough to reveal Ben smiling at you from the driver’s seat. 

“What’s this about?” you asked.

“I fly out tomorrow morning, wanted to see you before I go,” he replied. 

You felt your cheeks warm as you stepped closer to the car, glancing around at the bustling street. “This was risky of you.” 

“Only if you don’t hurry up and get in.”

You slipped into the car and closed the door quickly, throwing your bag into the backseat as he began to drive. 

“I didn’t think you were leaving until Wednesday,” you said. 

He shook his head. “I got my days mixed up, it’s tomorrow.” 

Your lips curled into a pout, like a disappointed child. He glanced over at you and gave a soft laugh, reaching over to place a hand on your thigh. 

“You know, there’s still time for you to change your mind and come with me,” he said. 

You exhaled a cynical laugh through your nose. “Yeah, I’ll just drop everything to follow you on your press tour.” 

He gave your thigh a gentle squeeze. “It would be nice to have you with me. Think about it; fancy hotels, big beds, deep bathtubs, me, completely at your disposal…” 

“Hm, tempting. But I have to work. Not all of us can just jet off whenever we feel like it.” 

He let out an exaggerated puff of air. “Who needs work? You don’t need to work. I’ll take care of you.” 

“Shut up.” You scoffed, giving him a playful shove. “You don’t mean that.”

He chuckled. “I know I don’t. But in all seriousness though, it would be nice to have you with me. You could write on the plane.” 

“Stop it,” you laughed. “I’m not coming.” 

He pulled into the carpark of a hotel you’d always admired but never been inside. It was breathtaking, a blend of grand architecture and modern details; glass and stone, steel and marble. It was a place celebrities went for drinks or a private brunch without having to worry about mere mortals and prying eyes, a threshold you’d never held the status to cross. 

It felt bizarre to walk with him so openly, to stroll through the foyer side by side without fear of being spotted; no flashing cameras, no screaming fans, no nosy reporters. An employee led you into a lift, and you couldn’t help but flash a suspicious glare at Ben as you passed each floor, wondering how long he’d had all of this planned. 

You stepped out on the top floor, following behind Ben as he made polite smalltalk with the employee on the way to your room. You found yourself fixing your hair and straightening your clothes as you went, as though the building itself was judging you; offended that you could walk its carpets in a pair of trainers, grace its corridors in some well-worn jeans and an old cardigan. 

When Ben opened the door to the suite, you felt your breath still for a moment. It was bigger than your entire flat; bedrooms, bathrooms, a kitchenette and large, open living area. Beyond a set of glass doors was a private terrace. You stepped out into the fresh, cool air, taking in the London skyline as it wrapped around the entire balcony. 

The terrace was framed with warm, glowing lights and draping greenery, the city like a glittering tapestry as the sun began to disappear below the horizon. A table stood in the centre, a bottle of champagne resting inside an ice bucket beside it. 

You turned to Ben. “This is… subtle.” 

He smirked, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over the back of one of the chairs. "You like it."

“Says who?” you teased, brushing past him to lean your elbows on the railing, taking in the view. 

He followed, his hands finding your waist and pulling you gently back against him. “Me.”

Your mouth twitched with a smile. “If this is all a ploy to make me say it back…”

“You think I brought you here to trick you into saying you love me?” he asked, his tone soft yet playful, lips brushing against your ear. “I don’t need to hear it, Quinn, I already know you do.” 

The words made your stomach flutter, but you refused to let it show. “Bullshit.” 

He chuckled, spinning you around to face him. “You’re a terrible liar.”

You found yourself staring up at him in awe. He was so confident, so certain. It had been a week since he’d said those words, yet he didn’t seem to care that you still hadn’t said it back; his ego unbruised, like he knew you too well, understood you better than anyone ever had. 

Your protest died in your throat when his lips grazed your temple, lingering there as he pressed his body against yours, hands sliding down to your backside.

“This isn’t fair,” you murmured, your fingers dancing over the buttons of his shirt.

“What’s not fair?” he asked, lips trailing down to your cheek, your jaw, before pressing a soft kiss to the side of your neck. 

“You. Being so… smug.”

“I’m not smug,” he said, though the glint in his eye contradicted him. “Can’t a man treat his girlfriend to a nice evening without being accused of ulterior motives?” 

You shook your head, suppressing a laugh. “There you go again, saying we’re a couple.” 

“Because we are.” His grip on you tightened, his voice deepening. “If I asked you outright, you’d make me beg. And I’m not above begging, but I’d rather save that for… other things.”

You felt yourself growing hot as his lips found yours, forcing yourself to break away to mutter. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, here you are,” he countered softly, tilting your chin up with his finger and kissing you again. “If you weren’t mine, you wouldn’t keep coming back to me.”

He deepened the kiss, wrapping an arm around your waist, the other gripping the railing behind you. You slid your hands up to his face, feeling yourself melting into him, excitement and anticipation rippling in your core. 

For a man who’d been so strict in his abstinence, the past week had completely unravelled him. He was insatiable, his touch lingering even in the most innocent moments, his kisses turning deeper and hungrier with little provocation. He’d taken every opportunity to make up for the time you’d lost, and you’d welcomed it gladly, savouring the ache that would follow you in the aftermath. 

He broke away, pressing his forehead to yours. “Dinner will be here soon,” he whispered.

You exhaled a laugh. “You ordered for me?” 

“I know what you like.” 

You slipped away to one of several bathrooms, taking off your cardigan and zhuzhing your hair until it sat just right. It was easy sometimes to forget who he was; the money he had, the power he wielded, the status he held that didn’t just surpass yours, but eclipsed it altogether. Whenever it hit you, it would make you feel uneasy; the imbalance throwing you off kilter, making you wonder what he saw in you, why a man who had the world at his fingertips would let himself fall for a single grain of sand. 

When you returned to the terrace, you found him sitting at the table as a waiter lay out a spread of food in front of him; steaming plates and pretty side dishes, a basket of your favourite bread and the dessert you’d been craving for weeks. The smell drifted through the air towards you, making your stomach rumble, your mouth water with hunger. 

You hovered in the doorway as the waiter placed down the last few plates, tucking a tray under his arm when he was done and pushing a large trolley back towards the suite. You stepped aside to let him pass, allowing yourself a moment to take in his face, the name on his badge. Perhaps it was cynical of you to assume he’d go running to the papers, narcissistic even, to think he’d care to.

Ben stood up as you made your way over to him, pulling out your chair for you with a charming smile. 

“This looks amazing,” you said as you sat down, admiring the food in front of you.

He kissed the side of your head and returned to his seat. “Champagne?” 

“Sure.” 

“So,” he began, popping the cork in his fist. “Guess what happened today…” 

You narrowed your eyes, cocking your head slightly. 

“I am officially divorced,” he said, almost beaming at you as he filled your glass. “I got the final order this afternoon. Decree Absolute. It’s done.” 

“Oh wow, congratulations.” 

“Congratulations?” he replied, jokingly mocking your voice. “I’m free, Quinn. No more contractual obligations, no more interviews pretending my marriage was anything other than a glorified business transaction. I can finally move forward. With you.” 

You stifled a smile, instead tapping your finger against your lips with a contemplative hum. “I don’t know. Now that you’re a single man, the excitement’s sort of gone.“

“Oh is that so?” 

“Mhm. I mean, where’s the thrill in sneaking around if it’s not with a married man?” 

He smirked, his eyes flitting to your mouth as you took a sip of champagne. “You need the thrill, hm?” 

You nodded. 

“Well you know what would be thrilling?” 

“What?” 

“Coming to America with me tomorrow.” 

You threw your head back and let out an exaggerated groan, making him chuckle as he began to eat. 

“Was worth a try,” he mumbled.

You talked and ate until the sun went down, until the cold puckered the flesh of your bare arms and numbed the tip of your nose. You sat with your legs outstretched beneath the table, resting comfortably between Ben’s as you listened to him speak - not about work, or divorce, or the two of you - but about his family, his childhood, the things that made him happy and the last time he laughed so hard he couldn’t breathe. 

In the moments you were reminded of his fame, it was easy to feel starcrossed; like there was an entire ocean between you and no way to common ground. But then the moment would pass, giving way to a warm laugh or a tender touch, and suddenly in that ocean would be an island, where you both resided as equals; your own private paradise. 

His hand had found yours across the table, his thumb gently stroking your knuckles as he continued a sweet anecdote about his mother. You’d never been very tactile, finding the hand-holding and arms around shoulders completely embarrassing, the chaste kisses and legs brushing under tables far too soppy. But here you were, chin resting on your fist, the other hand in his, gazing at him as he spoke, without a speck of desire to pull away. 

You laughed softly as you watched him bring a glass to his lips, somehow missing his mouth and spilling champagne down his shirt.

“I’m not drunk, I swear,” he laughed, releasing your hand to pick up a napkin and dab at his chest. 

“What’s that, like a tenner’s worth of champagne you just spilled?” you teased. 

He laughed again, picking up the bottle and looking at it with a hum. “About… forty quid?” 

Your smile dropped. “Tell me you’re joking.” 

“What?” He shrugged. 

“You’re saying we’ve been drinking a £2000 bottle of champagne?” 

“I think it’s closer to three,” he said casually.

“Oh my god! Wh- I- Well then how fucking expensive was all of this!?” you gestured to the terrace, the food, the suite beyond the doors. “Jesus this is like the watch fiasco all over again.” 

“Which I notice you still haven’t worn…” 

You glared at him. 

“Quinn, it’s fine,” he said softly, taking your hand in his again. “I wouldn’t spend it if I didn’t want to.” 

“But why on earth-”

“Why do you feel like you’re not worth it? Like money spent on you is somehow a waste?” 

“Because…” You settled back slightly in your chair, eyes flitting around in thought. “Because it is.” 

His smile faded, his eyes creasing at the corners as he gazed across the table at you. “Do you really believe that?” 

You shrugged, a defensive edge sharpening your posture. “I do.” 

“Well you’re wrong,” he countered bluntly. 

You opened your mouth to argue, but he continued quickly. 

“I know this imbalance between us bothers you. I know you’re independent, and you don’t want to feel like I’m trying to buy you or show off or make you feel indebted to me. But that's not what this is." He gestured to your surroundings, the city lights twinkling in the distance. "If anything, this is me showing you that you’re not a waste - not of my money, or my time, or my affection - none of it’s wasted on you.” 

His sincerity was disarming, how quickly the evening had gone from joking and banter to complete seriousness. You tried to remain neutral, but your eyes betrayed you with a vulnerable glaze, making his face soften, his hand squeezing yours more firmly.

“You are so deeply rooted in my life now that I don’t see any of this as frivolous,” he said. “I just see it as… being with you. No different than sitting on the couch in front of the TV.”

You sighed. 

“What?” he asked quietly.

“I just… I don’t think I can get away with denying this is a relationship anymore, can I.”  

He laughed. “No. No, you can’t.”  

You laughed too, rolling your eyes when you saw a smile creeping across his face. 

“This- us-” he said. “It’s far beyond the secrets and the sneaking around and worrying what strangers might say about me in the fucking papers. I’m not saying I’m ready to go dragging you down red carpets with me, but I like to think that you see it… getting there, maybe, one day…” 

You drew in a deep, cleansing breath through your nose, trying to soothe the nerves creeping into your chest.

“I love you,” he said. “Whether you say it back or not, it doesn’t make it any less true. I love you, Quinn.”

You gazed across at him for a moment, at the warmth in his expression, the vulnerability in his voice. You swallowed past a lump in your throat. “That’s… unfortunate for you,” you said. 

He dropped his head with a deep, throaty chuckle. “I don’t know,” he replied, eyes meeting yours again. “I feel quite fortunate… Most of the time.” 

You scoffed, taking a sip of your - extremely expensive - champagne. 

He gestured with his head for you to come to him. You stood up and walked around the table, settling in his lap and draping an arm around his shoulders. He held you close with a hand on the small of your back, the other reaching up to brush a stray hair from your face as you leaned down to him, lips meeting in a deep, slow kiss. 

“You’re cold,” he whispered, running his hand up and down your bare arm. 

“I’m fine,” you replied.

He shook his head. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

You stood in the living area, staring up at a painting on the wall, head cocked to one side as you wondered if anyone would notice if you stole it. You shook the thought away as the sound of voices and rattling dishes emerged from the terrace, glancing over your shoulder to see the waiter from earlier wheeling away the remnants of your dinner.

Ben thanked him as he left, shutting the door behind him and sliding the chain lock in place. He spun on his heels to look at you from across the vast suite, though his large strides carried him over to you in moments. 

You ran your fingers over the pale yellow stain on his shirt as he wrapped his arms around your waist, and you wondered if you’d ever tire of his embrace, if he would ever tire of embracing you. You hoped not. 

“I have the suite for the night,” he said. “But if you’d rather go home, I can take you. I know you don’t have anything with you so I understand if you wouldn’t want to stay.”

“Hm, my tiny, messy flat or this stunning hotel with you,” you replied, pretending to deliberate with yourself. “What a difficult decision.” 

He laughed, kissing you on the cheek before stepping past you.

“Where are you going?” you asked. 

“Bed,” he replied simply. “Are you coming?” 

“Bed? It’s only half nine…” 

He raised an eyebrow as he backed up slowly towards the master bedroom, waiting for the penny to drop. 

“Oh,” you finally said.

“Yeah,” he replied, reaching out his hand in a gesture for you to join him. 

The car idled quietly on the road outside your flat building, the blue morning sky clear and bright, promising a warm day. You knew you had to leave, to climb out and get ready for work, but every time your hand so much as brushed the door handle, Ben’s lips found yours again. 

Your laugh came breathlessly as you finally pulled back, lips blushed and swollen from his endless kisses. “You’re going to miss your flight.” 

His smile was lazy and unapologetic as he yielded, dropping his head slightly with a gentle sigh. “Can I call you when I get to my hotel?” 

“Yeah, I suppose I’ll allow it.” 

He leaned in, and you couldn’t help but kiss him again, feeling his smile against your lips.

“Don’t miss me too much,” he muttered, his hand sliding through your hair. 

You laughed softly. “I’m sure I’ll manage. I took on a ton of work to keep myself busy.” 

He chuckled, but you quickly swallowed the sound with another kiss, leaning into him with more fervour. 

His hand dropped to the side of your face, the other firmly gripping your thigh; his touch making your stomach coil, the orgasms he’d given you last night still echoing in your core. So many orgasms you were sure you’d still be reeling for the next few days. 

You forced yourself to break away again, shaking away the fluster warming your cheeks. “Okay, you really are going to miss your flight if you don’t go.” 

He leaned back in the driver’s seat, reaching out to brush a stray hair from your face. His touch lingered, stroking your temple before trailing down to your jaw.

“Last chance,” he said. “You sure you don’t want to come with me?”

You hesitated as you looked at him. There had been no pressure in his voice, no coercion in his expression, only a gentle invitation, and you could see in his eyes that he already knew your answer.

“Not this time,” you said, the corner of your mouth curving into a small smile.

He gave a smile that matched yours, like the subtle shift in your answer hadn’t gone unnoticed. No longer a flat refusal or a guarded deflection, but something warmer, an unspoken ‘someday’. 

“Okay,” he said, leaning in for one last kiss. “I’m going to miss you.”

You smiled faintly, your usual sarcasm faltering as you replied. “I’m going to miss you too.”

“Two weeks,” he reassured, though you were uncertain which one of you needed it more. “Just two weeks and I’ll be back.” 

“Yeah, for three days,” you countered. “Before you have to go again.” 

“Well, we better be sure to make the most of those three days.”

You nodded, finally reaching for your bag and opening the door.  

You climbed out and closed it behind you, turning around to lean down and meet his gaze through the open window. 

There was a mournfulness to his expression as he looked at you, like it was physically paining him to let you go. And you understood, because you felt it too; already longing for his return before he’d even left. 

The back of your tongue felt heavy with the words you’d refused to utter, almost like they belonged there, ready to pour out of you like an impulse, as natural as a ‘goodbye’. But something made you swallow them, forcing them back down your throat with a sad smile. 

“Have a safe flight,” you said.  

His fingers drummed lightly on the steering wheel, his eyes never leaving yours. “Bye, darling,” he said, his voice carrying the same forlorn weight as yours.

“Bye.”

You stood on the pavement as he pulled away, watching the car until it disappeared down the street. Only then did you suck in a deep breath, letting it out in a long, slow sigh. You remained there a moment longer, staring at the quiet, empty road before finally turning to go inside.

You stared up at the distinctive orange building of the London Fashion and Textiles museum, accents of bright blue, vivid yellow and hot pink decorating its exterior. You pulled out your phone to snap a picture of the large poster hanging near the entrance - Ornamented: The Art of Embellishment in Fashion - as a healthy crowd filtered inside.

You meandered leisurely through the opening of the exhibition, taking pictures and scrawling quick notes in your book, the extra weight on your wrist catching you off guard whenever you raised your pen to the paper. 

The watch face gleamed beneath the soft lights of the museum, the gold bracelet strap shimmering every time you moved. It had sat safely in its box, tucked away in your underwear drawer since Christmas. Every now and again you would take it out just to look at it, perhaps even put it on, but you would always stow it away soon after, like a child secretly trying on her mother’s expensive clothes.

But you were Ben’s girlfriend now. A fact that made your stomach turn with fear and excitement whenever you thought about it for too long. And as his girlfriend, it somehow felt right to wear a piece of him when he wasn’t with you. 

You walked up to a display encased inside a large glass cabinet; an array of intricately beaded flapper dresses from the 1920’s. Time had discoloured some of them, loosened some seams and lost their sparkle. But still, you found yourself almost pressing your nose to the glass, admiring the meticulous patterns and letting your mind wander to the women who might have worn them. 

You crouched down to the ground, resting on your haunches to steady your notebook on your knee as you scribbled your thoughts. You were making a note of the designer’s name from a nearby placard when footsteps approached you, heels clicking on the concrete floor and stopping at your side. 

“Quinn, isn’t it?” 

You glanced up to find Faye Dennehy glaring down at you, her tall stature even more imposing from your hunched position below her. You felt your lungs empty, your heart thumping in a hollow chest as you rose to your feet, blinking at her a few times before snapping out of your stupor. 

“Yes, it is. And you’re… Faye, right?” you replied. 

It was clear that you both very much knew the other’s name. But if she was going to pretend otherwise, then so were you.

“It’s nice to see you with your clothes on this time,” she said, her light, airy tone masking the sharpness of her words. 

She didn’t know you could be mean. Extremely mean. Brutally, mercilessly, remorselessly cruel. She also didn’t know that you were currently pressing your lips together as a courtesy to her, holding back the venom trying to force its way out. 

You gave a weak, obviously fake chuckle. “Yeah that was… quite the morning, for all of us.” 

She nodded with a wry smile before turning her attention to the dresses. You let your eyes trail the length of her; the long a-line skirt and perfectly tailored blouse, the pointed toe heels and long, bouncy blonde hair. You couldn’t deny how chic she looked. She always looked chic. 

Bitch.

You shook the thought away and looked down at your notebook. 

“So you’re here for your magazine?” she asked. 

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, instead looking back up at her and clearing your throat. “Yep.”

“Mm. Well I’m sure you’ll give the exhibition a glowing review. You seem very good at painting things in a favourable light.” 

You smiled. “Ben already told me you didn’t like the feature I wrote about him.” 

“Oh he did?” She nodded, peering through the glass at one of the dresses as she spoke. “I wouldn’t say I didn’t like it. It just came across a bit… disingenuous.” 

“Disingenuous. Sort of like… PR relationships…” 

You noticed the muscles in her neck flex, but she remained calm, returning her gaze to you. “Sort of like that, yeah.” 

You closed your notebook and hugged it to your chest before moving towards the next exhibit. 

“Is that a Jaeger-LeCoultre?” Faye asked as you stepped around her. 

You spun on your heels to look at her, a blank expression on your face.

“The watch,” she said. 

“Oh.” You glanced down at your wrist, then back to her. “Yeah, it is.” 

She allowed a slight smile, letting out a short, contemptuous hum. “Expensive.” 

You feigned a clueless expression, doe-eyed and innocent as you shrugged at her. “Is it? I wouldn’t know, it was a gift.” 

“How thoughtful of him,” she replied bluntly, emotionlessly. 

“I never said who it was from…”

“Well,” she laughed. “I doubt anyone else you know could afford something like that.” 

You found yourself holding back again, biting the inside of your bottom lip until it tasted of iron. “Enjoy the exhibition,” you said, feigning kindness as you gestured around you. “I’m sure this theme’s right up your street. We both know how much you love embellishments.” 

You walked away without waiting for a response, blowing out a puff of hot breath and fanning yourself with your book until you reached the next display. On a small platform stood a row of mannequins, each one draped in a stunning jewelled sari. You squinted to read the placard beside them; the history, the significance, the craftsmanship that went into them. 

But you were soon disturbed again, letting out a huff before turning to Faye again. 

“Are you following me?” you asked, a teasing glint in your eye.

“I don’t know what you think you know about my marriage,” she began, speaking quietly, her tone curt. “But when he inevitably gets bored of messing around with you, I hope you have enough integrity to keep it to yourself.” 

“I have no intention of ever exposing you, Faye.” You shook your head. “But I’ll be sure to let Ben know you think our relationship is doomed to fail.” 

“Relationship,” she giggled.

You narrowed your eyes at her. 

“Is that what you’re calling it? A relationship?” she scoffed. 

“What else would it be?”

“You’re the fun, Quinn. The wild oats he sews before he decides he’s ready to settle down.” She gestured to your watch. “You’re the one he spoils, keeps sweet, flies out to whatever country he’s in because he feels like a quick fuck.” 

Her voice was so quiet, so soft, but the words were bitter and torturous. It made the back of your neck tingle, your ears burn, stomach twist.

“And I don’t blame you,” she shrugged. “He’s a celebrity. Who’s going to turn down the opportunity to have a fling with a handsome, charming actor? But what happens when that novelty wears off? When you realise how… wrong for him you are?” 

People were passing back and forth around the exhibition, buzzing with conversation, brushing shoulders, gathering at displays and moving on to the next. But the place might as well have been silent, bare, just the two of you in an empty room. 

You gave a clipped laugh, though no smile accompanied it. “How on earth would you know if I’m right or wrong for him? You don’t know me.“

“No but I know him,” she countered assuredly. “I know that he wants children, and he wants them soon. That’s one of the main reasons our marriage ended. Are you willing to give him that?” 

“Well actually, I’m three months pregnant right now, we’re very excited,” you replied dryly.

She narrowed her eyes. “No you’re not.” 

“Of course I’m fucking not,” you said quietly, rolling your eyes.

“And when he wants you to be, what then? When he comes to you a year from now and says ‘Quinn, I really want to be a father, and I’m not getting any younger’. Is that going to fill you with excitement, or dread?” 

You kept your face expressionless, but your heart was beginning to race, her words travelling right to the place where they stung the most. 

“He wants to live equally between here and America, did he tell you that?” she continued. “Are you willing to pack up your whole life and follow him back and forth? Give up your career? Live in houses you have no equity in? Drive around in a nice car you didn’t pay for?” 

She straightened her posture, chin raised with indignation. “Quinn the kept woman,” she taunted. “The trophy wife that the media never actually cares to learn the name of because she’s unimportant, insignificant when compared to him.”

You swallowed past a lump in your throat, though you couldn’t tell if it was made of sadness or pure rage. But still, you found a way to compose yourself, checking over your shoulders before stepping closer to her. 

“I know it must hurt,” you eventually said. “To be in love with someone who doesn’t love you back. To be married to him, to convince yourself that ‘maybe with time he’ll see we’re meant to be’.” You lowered your voice, leaning in to speak slowly. “Yet still, after two years, the only time he’d willingly touch you was when there was a camera there to catch it.” 

Her face hardened, her eyes never leaving yours. 

“And I don’t blame you either, Faye. If I were you, I’d want to hurt the woman he actually loves too.” 

She forced a smile, blinking away what seemed to be tears forming in her waterline. “I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m warning you.” 

She turned away, beginning to walk off before stopping and looking back at you. 

“I may not have liked what you wrote in that feature,” she said. “But the way you wrote it wasn’t half bad. I just think it’d be a shame, for someone with so much potential to end up known only as the one that came after me.” 

You held her gaze until she finally turned around, disappearing into the crowd with a flick of her hair. 

You stood there for a moment, frozen, staring down at the spot where Faye had stood. The buzz of the exhibition faded back in, a cacophony of excited voices, camera shutters and footsteps. But it was still muffled, like there was a bubble around you, separating you from the rest of the world. Faye’s words echoed in your mind, breaking through the armour you’d built around yourself and burrowing down to the quietest corners of your soul, the places you didn’t like to visit. 

Quinn the kept woman. The one that came after me.

You wondered if she was right, if you could ever be satisfied living a life that always had to bend to the shape of Ben’s. He had never denied the pitfalls of his fame, never sugar coated the demand of his work or hidden his desire for a family, for children. Were you really holding him back from finding someone to share all of that with?

You took a shaky breath, closing your eyes to soothe the itch behind your lids, and with trembling hands, you opened your notebook and forced yourself to carry on to the next display. A collection of gowns embroidered with floral motifs, their petals moulded from delicate beads and sequins that seemed to bloom beneath the soft light. You traced the edges of one with your eyes, jotting down notes with uneven, messy handwriting.

Your watch caught the light again, the gold surface glinting like a mocking wink. You almost wanted to take it off, but instead you fiddled with it for a moment, recentering the face in the middle of your wrist.

By the time you finished your tour of the exhibition, your notebook was full, but you could barely remember anything you’d written in it. You slipped it into your bag, hoisting it over your shoulder as you walked toward the exit and out into the late evening air. 

The sun was still shining, but there was a bite to the breeze that made you shudder. You pulled a cardigan from your bag and shrugged it on before taking off down the street towards your car. You pulled your phone from your trouser pocket, looking up Ben’s name, thumb hovering over the call button as you walked. But you never pressed it, unsure what you would even say, where you would start.

*Tag List: @blondekel77 @evelynrosestuff @bakerstreethound @annesthaeticc @aephereal @sharp-cheekbones-locked @sherlux @veryladyqueen @graciebear47 @allurenia @jamerlynn @cottagecore-cat @aysamuka @thegardenerofeden @cumbercatchmebaby @inspirationalandrandom @turkisherlockian @swds @weepingdreamerpanda @elzabethann @childofgod215 @briecantopme @lovecleastrange @jaspearl31 @paola-carter @greatburger @azu21 @xourownsidee @hunterofshadows04 @asgardianprincess1050 @teddycrimson @sherlocksgirl91 @oliveoilthoughts @hai-kbai @shjl15 @bloodyxsaint @charleighsblog @stephenstrangeaddictions @omgstarks @sleutherclaw @bisciwri @theevilsupreme @druggedbyfiction @gwoods123 @classickook @coffee-d0t @strangeobsessed @januarycolor @strangeions @lonadane @downtownshabby @diabaroxa @stllbrln @thealleydog @cakesandtom @irisbutterfly @coffeebeing @lexlexigogh @mun7on @svntnpldis @belan-the-dilf-hunter @blxckdragonfly @detective-sherlocked @xdelulu @nicoletk @filmlock @bensherstrange @midnightramyeoncravings @coldnique @dearwatson @scailedandisolated @aphroditesdilemma @bergararyans @txylorrvelasco @classicrebound @hthrevr @happybunnyclumsyduck @c00letha @j3mj3rrica @ironstrange1991 @vi0letdaze @theothersideofthescreen @alessandra-cumberbatch @indiefilmfatale

[inklings-challenge]

Inklings Challenge 2024: Team Tolkien

It is time to officially announce the members of Team Tolkien for the 2024 Inklings Challenge

Members of Team Tolkien are challenged to write a science fiction or fantasy story within the Christian worldview that fits into one of these two genres:

Secondary World Fantasy: Stories that takes place in an imaginary realm that’s completely separate from our world

Time Travel: Stories featuring travel through time

These genres are open to interpretation, and creativity is encouraged. You can use either or both of the prompts within your story, or if you’re feeling ambitious, you can write multiple stories.

Members of Team Tolkien are also asked to use at least one of the following seven Christian themes to inspire some part of their story.

Admonish the sinner

Instruct the ignorant

Counsel the doubtful

Comfort the sorrowful

Bear wrongs patiently

Forgive all injuries

Pray for the living and the dead

Writers are challenged to complete and post their story to a tumblr blog by October 21, 2024, though they are encouraged to post earlier if they finish their story before that date. There is no maximum or minimum word limit. Writers who have not completed their stories before the deadline are encouraged to post whatever they have written by October 21st and post the remainder at a later date. Writers are also welcome to post the entire story after the deadline.

Posting the Stories

All stories will be reblogged and archived on the main Inklings Challenge blog. To assist with organization, writers should tag their posts as follows:

Mention the main Challenge blog @inklings-challenge somewhere within the body of the post (which will hopefully alert the Challenge blog).

Tag the story #inklingschallenge, to ensure it shows up in the Challenge tag, and make it more likely that the Challenge blog will find it.

Tag the team that the author is writing for: #team lewis, #team tolkien, or #team chesterton. 

Tag the genre the story falls under: #genre: portal fantasy, #genre: space travel, #genre: secondary world, #genre: time travel, #genre: intrusive fantasy, #genre: earth travel

Tag any themes that were used within the story: #theme: admonish, #theme: instruct, #theme: counsel, #theme: comfort, #theme: patience, #theme: forgive, #theme: pray

Tag the completion status of the story: #story: complete or #story: unfinished

Team Members

The writers assigned to Team Tolkien are:

@anipologist

@bunnyscar

@bytes-and-blessings

@catkin-morgs-kookaburralover

@dragonteaandfairyhoney

@edgeladyramblings

@e-louise-bates

@enjoliquej

@fairytale-lights

@fictionadventurer

@find-the-path

@frominsidetheblanketfort

@galahadiant

@healerqueen

@herbofgraceandpeace

@icwasher

@incomingalbatross

@kanerallels

@ladyminaofcamelot

@larissa-the-scribe

@lilaccatholic

@lydiahosek

@melliabee

@o-lei-o-lai-o-lord

@phoebeamorryce

@physicsgoblin

@plainshobbit

@quill-driver08

@ripple-reader

@rosesnvines

@rowenabean

@screwtornadowarningsimsouthern

@secret--psalms--saturn

@shakespearean-fish

@shaylalaloohoohoo

@shiningshenanigans

@simplyghosting

@siriusfan13

@solovei-solovey

@starknightgirl

@supreme-leader-stoat

@taleweaver-ramblings

@thegreenleavesofspring

@wikipedianna

Writing resources, including the Challenge overview, FAQ, writing prompts, and discussions of the genres are available at the Inklings Challenge Directory. Any writers with further questions can contact the Inklings Challenge blog for guidance.

Welcome to the Inklings Challenge, everyone! Now go forth and create!

[cxrsedeclipse]

First time writing, might be sloppy…

STARSCOURGE RADAHN—GRATEFUL AFFECTION

Warnings: anal sex, size difference, mention of magic used during sex, dom!bottom!Radahn, sub!top!m!reader

Pairing: Starscourge Radahn x M! Tarnished Reader

Overview: Reader saved Radahn from Malenia, and be did not get Scarlet Rot, making him stay healthy. One day, Radahn feels a bit emotional and wants to thank Reader…

Not too long ago, you had saved Radahn from Malenia that threatened to hurt him. Radahn had definitely not forgotten that day, always managing to smile when he saw you every day. Sure, you were a Tarnished, and Radahn was like five times your size, but that didn’t stop either of you from loving each other so dearly.

One day, when Radahn saw you just hanging around Redmane Castle, he gently tapped your shoulder with his finger to get your attention. When you turned around, you saw the 27 foot giant man, in his armor and looking down at you with tender eyes. “Hey, y/n… I never really got to thank you for saving me… may I do that now?” You were a bit confused on why he had asked that. “… you don’t need to thank me, Radahn. You just being with me is enough”, you said. Radahn shifted on his feet a bit. “Yeah, yeah… but I still want to. I insist.” After a bit of thinking, you finally agreed to just let him do… oh wait, what did he want to do? “What do you even want to do?”, you asked. Radahn smirked a bit, looking down at you. “Some things… in bed.” You were stunned for a second but quickly got excited, feeling your bulge forming in your armored pants. “… sounds good to me”, you said. Radahn didn’t waste any time with that confirmation, gently picking you up with one hand and carrying you to his gigantic room.

His bed was huge, like it was for a giant… well, it basically was. Radahn looked at you in his hand as he gently placed you down on the bed and stripped his armor off but keeping his helm on, revealing his dark grey skin and his ripped, muscular body, his muscles bulging and rippling. And damn his cock was hard too… it was a 17 inch monster, but Radahn never used it with you since he knew that it was far too much for you. He stroked his huge cock with his large hand, smirking at you. “Like what you see, darling?”, Radahn chuckled, “Come on, don’t just lie there, get rid of your clothes.” You gulped at the sight of him and nodded excitedly, taking off your armor and clothes. You had a nice, 7 inch cock which was pretty big for a Tarnished. Radahn didn’t keep his eyes off you as he laid down in bed with you. His hand was almost bigger than you, but that didn’t matter to him as he just gently pulled you against his chest for now. After a bit of closeness, Radahn propped up on his elbows and started playing with your cock, making sure to use his pinky finger because his hand was too big. You squirmed and let out soft moans and groans, which was like music to Radahn’s ears. Radahn then laid down on his stomach, his hand on his large, muscular ass. “Go on, y/n… don’t keep me waiting.” You looked at his state and your mouth almost watered. You quickly crawled behind the giant, contemplating if your cock was even too small for his pleasure. Radahn looked back and saw that look. “Don’t worry… I love you the way you are. Plus, it feels good.”, Radahn reassured, reaching back to spread his own ass cheeks. “Now dig in…” You nodded enthusiastically, and Radahn let out an appreciative hum at the feel of your tip pressed against his nice, puckered hole. When you pushed in, he let out a soft groan, pushing back against you. “Fuck, y/n… it always feels so good… please just thrust as hard as you can… make me feel you…” You obliged and did just that, thrusting hard, rough and fast. Radahn was a mess of groans and moans right now, burying his face in his pillow, pushing back against you and humping the sheets of the bed. You had a trick up your sleeve, you were a sorcerer after all… you used a certain spell that made your thrusts way stronger, as if he was getting pounded by a 20 inch cock. He moaned and groaned loudly now, muttering pleas to not stop. The time he really tipped over was when he felt you cum inside him, feeling your warmth spread through. He moaned a bit louder as his own release hit him, cumming hard all over the sheets. Radahn was a bit sweaty, panting a bit as he sat up. He saw the dirty cum-soaked sheets and chuckled. “Guess we have a mess to clean up…”

[bonefall]

Better Bones AU: History Lesson

(A new, updated version of an old history lesson, with some new names and the hopes of being a better summary. Refer to this one over the old one!)

[ID: Ferncloud from Warrior Cats is lecturing Lionkit, Jaykit, and Hollykit.]

Teaching history in the Clans became an important feature after the defeat of Ripplestar near the beginning of the Chivalric Period. While elders are seen as the chroniclers of history, a dedicated Educator takes on the role of making sure each litter learns everything they need to know.

During the Settlement Era, ThunderClan's educator Ferncloud teaches the kits of ThunderClan about glyphs, the basic tenets of the Warrior Code, and an overview of history.

As of the newest arc, there have been 5 Periods so far, with each period being broken down into 3 Eras and side stories. Those are;

ANCIENT PERIOD Dawn Era, Code Era, Skyfall Era

CHIVALRIC PERIOD Ripple Era, Crusade Era, Campaign Era.

THISTLE PERIOD Broken Era, Tiger Era, Fire Era

HOMING PERIOD Journey Era, Settlement Era, Eclipse Era

MODERN PERIOD Reunion Era, Reckoning Era, Current Day

In addition, there is also a Prehistoric Period, which is only remembered by Clan cats through the tales of LionClan, LeopardClan, and TigerClan. The truth is even stranger than the mythological animals they tell stories about.

See: Hollyleaf's Century.

Ancient Period (1920s - 1970s)

Dawn Era

Thunderstar's Justice

Moth Flight's Vow

In the Dawn Era, the five ancient founders settled the Forest. From the North came the Clans, lead down from the mountains by Gray Wing the Wise. From the south came Warriors, following a king, Arc of the Park.

Gray Wing died in a fateful accident while saving his right-hand man, Shaded Flower. Clear Sky managed to keep the group together through his sheer strength, settling them into the forest. This all changed when a horrible accident caused the leg of Clear Sky's brother, Jagged Peak, to be permanently twisted.

His own brother and the leader of the Clan at the time, Clear Sky, cast him out. His pregnant mate, Bright Storm, protested this cruelty and tried to care for Jagged Peak all winter long. Her efforts were in vain as he starved to death, and the spirit of Gray Wing responded to this by sending her a hero and a sign;

Bright Storm's litter had one survivor, a ginger tabby named Thunder Storm, missing its leg in the same place where its uncle had lost his. They brought the child back to the group.

Refusing to learn his lesson, Clear Sky rejected the child just like he'd done to Jagged Peak. This time, many families did not abide the cruelty, headed by Tall Shadow. This caused the split between Sky's Clan and Shadow's Clan. Shadow's Clan came into constant conflict with the Wind Coalition, Thunder Storm broke off Thunder's Clan many years later after a great injustice, Tall Shadow's exile of Bumble, and he eventually struck up an alliance with the River Kingdom.

Rising political tension culminated in Sky's Clan taking the prince of the River Kingdom, River's Ripple, as a hostage. The First Battle broke out between all five groups at Fivetrees, a bloodbath with so much carnage that the bodies could not be buried in one day.

StarClan broke the battle with a flash of lightning, coming down from the heavens to offer each leader a revelation, and a reward. The reward being that each leader would get 9 lives to lead their Clans, and better understand the cats within them, as long as they gave a proper burial to each cat killed in the pointless fight.

The first two Commandments of the Warrior Code were made on this day-- the Law of the Land establishing borders, and the Law of Honor, which states that a true warrior does not need to kill in order to win their battles.

And thus ended the Dawn Era, and started the Code Era.

Code Era

Riverstar's Heir

Because this was before the Clans taught history, most of the Code Era is remembered in parables associated with the creation of Commandments 3 thru 8. It's also MUCH longer than most other Eras, with many of these parables being several generations apart.

The first addition to the warrior code happened with the death of the incredibly long-lived founder, King Riverstar. His openness and free approach towards love resulted in there being several contenders to the throne, inadvertently leading to the collapse of the River Kingdom.

With the addition of Code 3, the Law of the Deputy, the five groups became Clans in the sense they're known today.

The cats in these code parables are so old and so storied that they are seen as deities in StarClan, prayed to and invoked by the living. Examples being Daisytail, Patron of Protection and Parenthood, and Redscar, Patron of Arbitration and Decision-Making.

Later, the fourth commandment, the Law of Loyalty, was made in response to the open love of Ryewhisker and Cloudberry. It banned interclan mateships and closed off the groups in a way unseen since the Dawn Era, and ignited the ancient tradition of Kitten Stealing.

Unknown to the living, in protest of such an evil law, Ryewhisker and Cloudberry willingly joined the Dark Forest. They are two of the oldest spirits there.

An accurate chronicle truly begins with the Skyfall Era.

Skyfall Era

Cars, brand new highways, and suburban expansion started to cut into the Forest as the humans entered a new era... not that the Clans knew why it was happening. Kittypets, associated with these humans, started to be seen more negatively than ever before.

This Era is named for, and defined by, the loss of SkyClan.

Commandment 9, the Law of the Wild, was made in response to SkyClan cats defecting to live as housecats; "A true warrior rejects the soft life of a kittypet."

As their territory evaporated below their paws, SkyClan was blamed for everything out of their control. To this day, this era is framed as a cautionary tale to kittens, "What happens to a Clan when they stop living by the Code." In a famous final plea, SkyClan was turned away and exiled.

Their ancestors, 1/5th of StarClan, went with them... except for Skystar who remained in Silverpelt, revered as a Patron of Battle.

The Clerics of the four remaining clans protested the exile ferociously, banding together to go on strike until SkyClan was returned. To break it and bring their medics back under control, the Medicine Cat's Vow was codified into law.

Previously, it had been a personal vow between Clerics, one with no enforcement behind it. Not taking a mate or having kittens was to always keep medicine above Clan loyalty; but the code was enshrined to make a Cleric put Clan loyalty above all else. A corrupted vow. Dalestar of WindClan smeared his Cleric, Larkstripe, as a hypocrite and sent her kitten away.

See: Larkstripe

And thus ended the strike, and the Ancient Period, as the following Chivalric Period began.

Chivalric Period (1970s - Late 1990s)

Ripple Era

Ripplestar's Rot

Larkstripe's kitten was raised at Birdsong's belly in ShadowClan, the adopted brother of Gorseclaw and Spottedpelt. Ripplemoon understood it was a great injustice that SkyClan had been exiled, and vowed to make room for his siblings' father and Clan to return home.

Meanwhile, the 5th Oak at Fivetrees was beginning to rot. The Ripple Era was named for this time of tumult, ending with a crash as Ripplestar's war came to a bloody halt.

After the death of the 5th Oak, Fivetrees becomes Fourtrees, widely considered a sign that a Clan that cannot keep its borders does not deserve to have them. THREE new laws were added to the Warrior Code, all of them related to making cats more loyal.

The Full Moon Truce, ruling that cats were not to fight or argue at gatherings

The First Tasks, a set of pre-existing traditions now codified, that all apprentices had to complete upon becoming warriors

The Leader's Rights... to not be disobeyed.

The Clan Pride Tide that followed ignited war and chaos, considered to be the 'chivalric ideal' of Clan society. The battles were glorious, and never before were cats so honorable and ferocious. Punishments were harsh and severe... such as the one for a certain mother who took a halfclan mate, and was given 3 ill-fated kittens by StarClan.

And this punishment truly ended the Ripple Era, and lead to the Crusade Era.

Crusade Era

Darkstar's Commandment

Pinestar's Crusade

When a false sign from StarClan was misinterpreted by the Cleric of ThunderClan (unknown to all: Birchface was a rogue StarClan warrior who sent it), Oakstar ferociously exiled Mapleshade and her three kittens in the midst of a storm. With nowhere to go, she tried to bring her children across the river to their father's Clan. They did not survive.

Darkstar refused to even allow her to bury the kittens in RiverClan. Mapleshade exacted her revenge, taking out 3 cats before being taken out herself. Furious at the injustice and murder, StarClan damned every cat involved, and gave Darkstar and Oakstar a command; to NEVER let this happen ever again.

Darkstar created Darkstar's Commandment, that all kittens were to be protected regardless of origin, and no one would be compelled to reveal the other parent of their kittens. This is known as the Queen's Rights.

See: Queen's Rights

Oakstar opposed this change at first, until he was beaten by Darkstar and forced to accept this new law. Fearing that StarClan would be furious with him, he attempted to please them by starting crusades against the cats of Chelford.

These Crusades lead to the creation of BloodClan, to defend Chelford cats against Clan invasion. From this point it evolved into a system of governance unique to itself.

See: Brief BloodClan Guide

WindClan and ShadowClan joined in on these raids for several years, with only RiverClan abstaining. Between the cats of the forest there was an era of odd 'peace' as they had new targets to battle for honor... until Heatherstar took power.

The Campaign Era reignited inter-Clan hostility.

Campaign Era

Tallstar's Collapse

Brokenstar's Cataclysm

Stormpaw's Demon

Bluestar's Flowers

Heatherstar of WindClan flexed her ambition by launching a campaign to take the Mothermouth Moorland from ShadowClan, setting off a cascade of renewed inter-Clan hostility. It caused ShadowClan to hold territory from ThunderClan, ThunderClan to re-take Sunningrocks, and RiverClan to assert control over the Gorge, causing periodic four-way fights between them in ways unseen since the Ripple Era.

WindClan lost the tradition of tunneling in this Era; as it isn't useful for the total war that Heatherstar needed to take such a huge chunk of territory.

In the later half of this Era, a group of young cross-Clan friends started to meet in secret. Bluemoon of ThunderClan, Hoprunner and Ashfoot of WindClan, Lizardstripe of ShadowClan, Oakheart of RiverClan, and Barley Senior of BloodClan.

They called themselves the Forget-Me-Nots, and it was the beginning of the ideology known as Fire Alone. Bluemoon's love of her friends, and the loss of her family in pointless battles, made her realize that something needed to change.

And yet, this era gave birth to something much more rotten. As the Clans hardened and started to see the more brutal parts of the code as fundamentally opposed to its softer laws, the tenets that would found Thistle Law began to form.

See: Thistle Law

Named for a painful lesson that Thistleclaw taught his apprentice, Bluestar's rise to power stalled its implementation for a few more safe years. It was the ironic negotiation of a Peace Deal to end the Mothermouth Moorland war which ended the Chivalric Period, and birthed the Thistle Period.

Thistle Period (Late 1990's - 2008)

Broken Era

Spottedleaf's Plague

After generations of fighting, Raggedstar of ShadowClan was old, tired, and wanted only to see peace for his last years of life. He went to end the war and stop fighting for the Mothermouth Moorland which had been contested for so long.

His son and deputy, Brokentail, killed him before he had the chance.

The rise of Brokenstar was the first true implementation of Thistle Law. His followers believed that the only way to truly win a war was to destroy the opposition-- completely. As Heatherstar had done before by sacrificing tunneling, Brokenstar, too, was prepared to make sacrifices.

In just a few short years using brutal tactics like poison claws, traps, and apprentice-targeting, ShadowClan had shredded WindClan's numbers. The final bloody event in this eradication was the WindClan Massacre, a full assault on their camp, and ShadowClan had even broken the code by bringing inexperienced warriors to battle. Casting out a full Clan was considered evil and barbaric.

Rebels formed in this time, but without help, they would have stood no chance against the popular Brokenstar.

It was Bluestar of ThunderClan and her young champion, an ex-kittypet called Firepaw, who agreed to lend their aid. Guided by the words of a prophecy, "Fire Alone Will Save The Clans," Bluestar instilled in her apprentice a new way of seeing the world.

With Brokenstar deposed, Bluestar sent her champion again to fetch WindClan. They gave ShadowClan space to recover, defended the weakened WindClan against River and Shadow, and even accepted a blinded Brokenstar out of mercy. At all turns, Bluestar embodied justice and chivalry...

Or so the ThunderClan history lessons say. Others like to put more emphasis on the growing darkness behind Tigerclaw.

Tiger Era

Tigerstar's Paws

It officially began when Tigerstar took power in ShadowClan. TigerClan lasted for only six horrible moons and defines the shortest era in the history lessons, but its story is told with horror and hushed tones.

Dozens of cats died, in raids and in executions. Prey was stolen from other territories and slaughtered en-mass to build a ridiculous, reeking monument of bones. There wasn't even enough to build a solid hill, so Tigerstar demanded they create a pointless facade over mud just for his ego.

But all of this was still not enough for him, and he contacted BloodClan to negotiate the Impossible Deal. They would have half of the Forest, if they helped him kill his enemies. Scourge did not trust Clan cats, but against his better judgement, as if the heavens were whispering in his ear... he agreed.

The Era came to a crashing halt when Tigerstar attacked his ally and Scourge famously opened him up in two hits. A very special song was made about this moment; Tiger's In A Heap.

Fire Era

Cinderpelt's Solution

Firestar's Quietus

The Tiger in RiverClan

Tigerstar had made a deal, and Scourge intended for it to be upheld. Half of the forest was rightfully his, and he would evict any Clan cats who he found living on it, tired of their dishonorable ways. He gave them three days to clear out.

Firestar was able to convince the four Clans to unite as one to defend against this threat, but he had a revelation. Scourge wasn't wrong. Clan cats had acted dishonorably with him, making promises they didn't intend to keep, attacking him when he didn't obey like a minion. In spite of being Bluestar's champion and successor, Firestar himself had been treated as if he was lesser, just for his birth.

To Scourge, and to Rusty, the Clans HAD been dishonorable. The Code ended at the border and treated outsiders as less-than-cats.

When the battle with BloodClan began, Firestar and Scourge faced off. The battle was legendary. In a fateful move, Firestar slammed the leader of BloodClan to the ground, and ripped his collar clean off. "A true warrior does not need to kill to win their battles."

Calling for a retreat with his life, Scourge left his collar behind on the battlefield. Firestar returned it, and opened up new negotiations with the humbled leader. "We have won our right to the forest, but speak to me; how much of Tigerstar's impossible deal can we honor for you?"

The answer was so simple as to be ridiculous. They wanted materials like wood, nice-smelling flowers, and new kinds of food. Things that they couldn't find in the dumpsters and gray pavement of twolegplace, and BloodClan could offer materials of their own to trade.

The Fire Era allowed the Thistle Period to have a brief, but sweet time of peace. This time of cooperation ended in a horrible ball of chaos, as the forest was destroyed by man and the cats had to go on a long journey.

Homing Period (2007 - 2018)

Journey Era

As the forest was destroyed, the Clans sought guidance from StarClan. The Clerics went to the Mothermouth, as was expected in those days. Cinderpelt, Littlecloud and Cinderpelt's apprentice Leafstripe were slightly late, as usual, taking their time getting there to have their bi-weekly chat.

When they arrived, they found Mothwing frantically digging at a collapsed rockfall. If they hadn't been late, they too would have died. Mudfur and Barkface were dead. The remaining Clerics dug until their claws were bloody, then fell asleep where they stood.

Leafstripe of ThunderClan received a prophecy. Four chosen cats must follow the Brightest Star, and find them a new home. These four cats were sent by each Clan; Brambleclaw, Tawnypelt, Feathertail, and Crowfoot. Squirrelpaw and Stormfur joined them, without permission.

As they went on a quest that would come to be known as the Sundrown Patrol, the four Clans suffered through many hardships. ThunderClan was forced out of its camp, WindClan was poisoned and ensnared, RiverClan pushed for Sunningrocks as the river dried up, and ShadowClan's marshland was filled in.

After the patrol returned to free several cats who had been trapped by humans, the Clans left hastily to begin the Great Journey.

Something changed on that trip together. For the first time ever, the four Clans had to rely on each other, and see things the way they could be. The apprentices and kits in particular walked away with a unique mindset about cooperation, summed up with a special dish they created together known as Paw Soup.

But of course, it did not last. On reaching the lake and discovering the Moonpool, Leafstripe received three new prophecies.

"Blood will spill blood and the lake will run red."

"Fire and tiger will clash and burn together into ash"

"The first of the lake will guide WindClan."

Her name was changed to Leafpool, an honor title to reflect her powerful seeing abilities.

After the death of Tallstar and the hasty rise of Onewhisker to power, Mudclaw decided that this prophecy must mean that the first cat to see the lake after the Great Journey would lead WindClan. Since he lead the first patrol here, he was especially convinced that it meant him.

(Unknown to him, it was referring to his child, Kestrelflight, who would be the first kitten born at the lake. Shortly followed by his brothers Harestar and Owlclaw, Hare and Kestrel were given to Mudclaw's brother Torear shortly after their birth while Whitewater kept Owl.)

Mudclaw's Rebellion spiraled into a conflict involving cats of all Clans, lead in by Hawkfrost. After a failed assassination attempt on Onewhisker's life, StarClan was so furious at Mudclaw's insolence that they smote him with a falling tree.

When this failed, Hawkfrost became desperate, getting three Tribe cats temporarily cast out of RiverClan, and attempting to kill Firestar to put Brambleclaw into leadership. When Brambleclaw hesitated, Mothwing sprang out of a bush to rescue the leader, and Brambleclaw fought his brother. But, he was unable to land the fatal blow, and Hawkfrost lunged for his sister... only to impale himself on the stake she was holding.

As the lake ran red with tiger blood, Brambleclaw stepped down from his deputyship, and Brackenfur took power. Mothwing returned with the body of her brother, but her troubles were not yet over. The cats of RiverClan who had participated in WindClan's rebellion didn't believe it was an accident, and Leopardstar did nothing about these accusations.

Mistyfoot realized that something had to be done. Hawkfrost was a victim as much as he was a perpetrator, and these ideas had to be pulled up at the root.

Every Clan has a different moment for where the Journey Era ended. ShadowClan believes it's when they arrived in their new home. WindClan thinks the death of Mudclaw feels right. ThunderClan sees it as the appointment of Brackenfur as deputy. RiverClan marks it at the sudden death of Leopardstar to a rogue, bludgeoned to death on a rock.

Homing Era

An unprecedented time of peace, never seen before, nor since. These days have come to be seen as halcyon, divided up into 'episodes' of conflict and interesting tales.

Some of these episodes are,

The Shinewater Plague

When a twoleg truck veered off a thunderpath and spilled gallons of shining poison into RiverClan territory, Mistystar had to decide what kind of leader she wanted to be. In this instance, she accepted help in spite of what some of the harsher cats of her Clan demanded.

ShadowClan's Lichen Rebog Project

Arriving at the lake was hard for ShadowClan, as the rivers in their territory were deep and their land was largely useless pines. Blackstar commanded an ambitious terraforming project, blocking up the rivers and controlling the flooding to turn their land into a marsh. ThunderClan offered their help, as usual.

Ripwater's Devastation

A giant, monstrous fish lurked in the depths of the lake, sucking down a RiverClan apprentice into the abyss and making fishing dangerous for any cat going for a swim. Ripwater needed to be dealt with, but RiverClan had never killed something as large as a boar, let alone larger.

Salt Patrol

This was the first time that the Clans had regular access to gathering their own salt, an important medicine for treating infection and parasites. There were times that apprentices of all Clans would converge, by coincidence, for a beach episode.

The Tribe's Rogues

Taken aback by the fact the Tribe cats ask for help even when they have a choice, Clan cats grapple with what this says about their own upbringings.

See: The expanded notes on how the Tribe visit has been completely reduxed to fix its problematic elements.

The Three, who would come to be known in story and legend, grew up in this period, exploring themselves, their friends, and the culture around them.

This time of kindness came to a tragic end in the Battle of the False Eclipse, and the Cruel Season that followed it.

Angered by ThunderClan's meddling in their affairs, WindClan and RiverClan attacked them and pulled all the Clans into a lake-wide brawl that was only ended by a flash of darkness. Sol showed them a taste of what was to come just a few years later, when the planes of reality would collide.

The Dark Forest had been making its moves and sewing seeds of discord within disgruntled cats of the Clans, involving them in a plan to snatch godhood from the stars. Their first major move was the 'accidental' killing of Brackenfur in the Battle of the False Eclipse, and the fire in ThunderClan that came later, as cover for killing Firestar.

And so, Bramblestar ascended to power with Squilf as his first deputy, Thornclaw as the second after Hollyleaf spilled a secret, and the young prodigy vanished into the tunnels for many years. A third cat of great prophecy was born to her brother.

See: Hollyleaf, just, this whole post

Eclipse Era

Uniting a group of cats with almost nothing in common, Tigerstar planned to usurp StarClan and become the new deities of the four Clans. He relied heavily on his son, Hawkfrost, to be his diplomat and keep the unstable alliance together just long enough to accomplish his goals.

Lionblaze and Jayfeather learned there was a plot, but didn't know how to infiltrate it. Lionblaze sent his daughter, Ivypool, in to spy on the demons and their schemes. Hawkfrost became her Dark Forest mentor.

The Dark Forest plan: replace every cat in power with a trainee before the night of the True Eclipse, to make their takeover easier. Simple enough. Harder was coordinating a bunch of trainees with completely different motivations.

See: Motivations of Dark Forest trainees

Firestar and Brackenfur were first. Sedgecreek and Mistystar, Ashfoot and Onestar, Russetfur and Blackstar were next.

The Dark Forest succeeded in pitting ThunderClan and ShadowClan against each other, thanks to deputy Thornclaw's influence. After the death of Russetfur, Blackstar was absolutely devastated and prone to Sol's influence. This was ShadowClan's first collapse, but unfortunately, not its last.

Redwillow, Ratscar, and Applefur took power of the Clan in his absence, and leas to bloody infighting as they tried to hold onto it. It was Rowanclaw rallying Blackstar's family to remind him of how loved he was that brought him back around, calling forth enough manpower to overthrow the trainees and take ShadowClan back.

Just before the Eclipse was about to commence, Hollyleaf returned just in time to fight for her family.

Thanks to the information of cats like Ivypool, the Clans were able to prepare for the Night of the True Eclipse. Unfortunately, the days of the Homing Era were gone, and they had a hard time uniting as a front. While ShadowClan and ThunderClan were able to rally and limit their losses, WindClan and RiverClan remained individual targets.

Dovewing lead a coalition of cats to counter the Dark Forest wherever they attacked, her father Lionblaze trailing just behind. Jayfeather used his powers to summon cats from StarClan itself, using a stick stolen from Rock to resurrect a tree and pull down as many angels as could fit on its branches.

Though outnumbered and losing, Tigerstar had vowed to go out in a blaze of glory. Scourge under his left claws and Blackstar bleeding out a life to the right, Firestar himself came in to settle the score with his old foe.

Modern Period (2018 - Today)

Reunion Era

ThunderClan's Tempest

Heartstar's Rise

Following the terrible carnage of the Great Battle, a grand storm blew through the lake and brought flooding unlike anything ever seen before. In the aftermath, many of ShadowClan's carefully managed projects took a beating.

The other Clans were reluctant to lend their aid, in contrast to the peace and cooperation of the Homing Era. Frustrated by ShadowClan's first collapse and the lack of help they were receiving now, the youngest generation was desperate for radical change. Many of the dejected cats around the lake agreed, Dark Forest trainees, halfclan cats and lovers, codebreakers, and so on.

They were co-opted by a terrible actor. Darktail had infiltrated SkyClan, many miles away, and exploited their internal divisions. Sharpclaw, Rockshade, and cats like them joined his cause, and SkyClan had fled in the chaos. He offered his help to the struggling ShadowClan, and any Clan cats seeking a safe haven. Breezepelt and his fellow ex-trainees were some of them.

"Nevermind your borders and your battles and your bloodlines," Darktail announced, "We will all be the Kin." Slowly, each of these things he spoke against became central to his movement.

WindClan, lead by Onestar, reacted severely. He put a complete embargo on any Clan lending aid, even denying them medicine during a terrible outbreak of Yellowcough. When ShadowClan fell apart, the Kin absorbed it completely and became an unstoppable force.

Heathertail couldn't handle the horrible cruelty of her father, and joined them hoping to get her half-brother's side of the story.

This was when The Kin started expanding, targeting their neighbors for territory. It was only through the return of SkyClan that the cult was able to be defeated, and because of their role in the final confrontation, it was agreed they had a claim to the Lake.

In memory of the conflict, and with respect to the destroyed ShadowClan, a new commandment was added to the code. The Law of the Lake demands that in times of stress, no Clan may allow another to falter and disband.

Rowanstar intended to live the last of his days in shame, having watched Dawnpelt die, his Clan disband, and Tigerheart vanish. Tigerheart returned only to die in a horrible accident, and Rowan refused to watch his last child be taken from him.

Drowning away his lives in the Moonpool so Heartstar could rise, the Era ends with the resurrection of ShadowClan.

Reckoning Era

Squirrelflight's Horror

Tawnypelt's Mountain

Ferncloud's Parting

SkyClan joining the lake and ShadowClan reforming caused struggles for territory. It was already a tight squeeze for ShadowClan before they joined, and accommodating an extra Clan would require careful diplomacy.

Unfortunately, Bramblestar had other plans. It got into his head that his deputy, Squirrelflight, was undermining him and he played a pointless game with his power. Joining Heartstar in an ill-fated invasion on a nomadic group, ThunderClan lost the respected senior Cleric and discoverer of the Moonpool, Leafpool.

But in those days, there was nothing that could be done about a bad leader besides violent revolution. Any telling of this era of history starts with these events, to establish why ThunderClan did not quickly realize their leader had been replaced by an Impostor only a few moons later, and why they didn't immediately do anything about it.

This impostor's first action was to announce his plans at a peaceful gathering. While losing a life, StarClan had told him they were disappointed and furious at the lack of a reckoning for the cats who had been disloyal in the previous two eras. HalfClan cats, insurgents, and other Codebreakers must be punished and brought in line, to return the Clans to a better time.

Most leaders agreed with this sentiment, and loosely implemented tests of loyalty. It wasn't enough for the Imposter, who was particularly insulted by Bristlefrost codebreaking within his own Clan to see Rootspring of SkyClan.

So at the next gathering, he called together the five Clans, implored them one more time to truly punish their Codebreakers or else StarClan would never come back, and finished his speech by ripping open Bristlefrost's neck.

Over the screams of the crowd, the full, uncovered moon shined bright. He pointed up with his bloodied paw, citing its light as StarClan's approval.

It wasn't the first time an unblemished moon meant cruelty, and SkyClan refused to be part of this evil game. Conflict escalated into a full-blown civil war, leading to scores of dead cats, and the eventual cornering of the Impostor.

When he escaped into the Dark Forest with the ghosts of the fallen kept hostage, Squirrelflight organized a final push to free those who were trapped. These cats came to be known as Lights in the Mist:

Harelight (then called Harefur) and Mistystar of RiverClan

Ivypool and Ferncloud of ThunderClan

Rootspring and MacGyver of SkyClan

Shadowsight and Flowerscar of ShadowClan

Breezepelt and Leaftail of WindClan... after Breezepelt conked Crowfeather over the noggin to forcefully take his spot.

(Exact cats liable to change, particularly MacGyver, Flowerscar, and Leaftail)

In the final confrontation, Ashfur revealed his special powers, having killed and absorbed the ancient spirit Clear Sky as well as several other demons and angels. He was too powerful to defeat, in spite of the combined efforts of the Dark Forest, StarClan, and the Lights in the Mist. In a final, grand effort, Shadowsight used a lightning bolt coursing through his veins to hold the monster down, and Bristlefrost sacrificed her life and eternity knocking Ashfur out of the sky like a falling star.

They crashed to Earth as a pair of asteroids, leaving a crater that became a small pool on SkyClan's border.

This fight destroyed a region of StarClan, an in-between area known as the Meadow of Young Stars. Now a shattered plain unable to separate the Place of No Stars from Silverpelt, A guard defends the single unstable bridge between the lands.

See: StarClan 101

~Current Day~

Ferncloud died tragically after confronting her brother on that fateful mission, and ThunderClan mourns its educator. In respect and heartbreak, its elders have hesitated in choosing a new cat for this role.

With two Eras behind them, the Clans have been loosely speculating what the new name for this Period will become, what its theme will be. There's no way to know until it happens... and it's not as if all the Clans agree on where exactly the times begin and end.

In the meanwhile, a new commandment has been added to the code. It's called Bristlefrost's Law, and for the first time, there is now an official system for changing Clans to be with a mate or a partner. Not all like this change-- some call these cats 'Turnclaws,' and didn't think there was a problem with the way things were.

Bramblestar has been tired since his ordeal, and ThunderClan is hoping he will step down soon. Mistystar has also been slow and aching, but her son Reedwhisker is a fine deputy, and he will make a fine leader as well.

The Clans have gone through a hard time, but there seems to finally be a light at the end of the- oh hey what's Splashtail up to

[uniquexusposts]

Her || Charles

Main characters: Charles Leclerc x OC Genre: fanfiction, fluff  Story type: novel  Part: 20/? Word count: 2858 Co writer: @mistrose23

Story summary: Matilde Jørgensen, the new Scuderia Ferrari team principal, faced the nerve-wracking challenge of reviving the team's fortunes and aiming for a championship. Leading a historic team as a 'newbie' and separating her work and personal opinions posed a significant challenge. The big question: is she capable to do so?

Previous chapter

Chapter 18. Statement

"Buongiorno," Charles greeted his colleagues when he entered the engineer's truck. His eyes scanned the people who had already sat on their spots. He missed one person, but she must be getting some tea or coffee.

His colleagues greeted him back. Charles sat down in his designated spot next to Matilde, who usually would sit at the head of the long table. It would give her an overview of the team. Charles noticed how her seat was untouched, her notebook and laptop weren't there, just like the tangerine she always ate every morning. It had only happened once that she was late and that was on her first day. It became normal to arrive and see Matilde already sitting there. She was the first to arrive and the last to leave.

Carlos entered the room. "Sorry for being late. There are so many fans out there," he apologised. He sat down across from Charles. He looked at Matilde's spot. "Where's Matilde?" He was surprised.

"Late," an engineer replied.

"Oh. Weird."

Even though the meeting had to begin when Carlos entered the room, people were still busy with preparations. Some didn't mind having a few extra minutes, but it was unusual.

Ten minutes had passed the designated starting time and Matilde was still nowhere to be seen. Members started to exchange puzzled glances. Even if Matildle was a minute late, she would tell someone about it. Her being ten minutes late already, was not right.

"Did someone try to call Matilde yet?" one of the engineers finally suggested.

"I already tried. No answer," someone else answered.

"And Galileo? Did someone try to contact him?"

"Shouldn't we just begin? We need to get this done before we run out of time."

"No, let's just wait for a bit longer. She must be on her way," another voice chimed in, hope lingering in the words.

"I texted Galileo," someone else mentioned.

Just seconds after that, Galileo and Silvia entered the room. Their presence alone was enough to signal that something was amiss. The usual smiles were absent, replaced by expressions of concern. They were never at a briefing like this.

"Can I get everyone's attention, please," Galileo's voice cut through the room, making sure everyone stopped with whatever they were doing. He took a moment to survey the room. "As you have noticed, we are missing the team principal today. Matilde will not be present today, tomorrow, and Sunday," he announced, causing eyebrows to raise in collective surprise. She had never missed one day of work.

A murmur of questions and confusion rippled through the room. Carlos, unable to contain his worry, spoke up first. "What? Why? What happened?"

"We are only allowed to share with the team that Matilde is hospitalised for a personal reason," Galileo responded somberly.

More questions were being asked about the situation.

"Her family has kindly requested that we not contact Matilde until she reaches out to us herself. We will not have a replacement for this weekend, so we must do it together."

Silvia nodded in agreement, her usual vibrant energy subdued. "We will publish a statement in a moment, written by Matilde's family. Charles and Carlos, when talking to the media or someone else who asks about it, you will say she will not be here at the track until further explanation. There will probably get some fuzz around it, let them be, but don't say anything about the hospital. Galileo and I are informed about the situation, but the media doesn't have to know it yet. They asked not to share it because they are still waiting on some results and do not want to share it yet. But do know that she is fine and not in a life-threatening situation. It is a private matter and for you, a team matter. For your further information, Christian Horner and Toto Wolff were there when it happened, but they have also been requested not to share anything with anyone. For now, that is all we know and all we can share. When we get an update, you will be the first to know about it. For questions about it, you know where to find me."

A sense of collective shock settled over the room, the usual camaraderie replaced by an atmosphere of uncertainty. The team members were left with more questions than answers, their concern for Matilde was palpable.

"May I ask why Matilde's family is in control of all the communications? Just curious to know..." one team member ventured, voicing the questions that echoed in the minds of many.

Silvia exchanged a glance with Galileo before responding. "Matilde's family is handling the situation because they value their privacy, and we respect that. Matilde's brother is a press officer and will be dealing with this for now. Let's focus on the tasks at hand and wish Matilde a swift recovery. Updates will follow when we have them."

"We do have a card, so if you would like to write something down, please, do it," Galileo mentioned and gave a massive 'Get Well Soon' card to Charles.

"Can it be stress?" Charles worriedly asked. He knew he had created a lot of fuzz and stress last week. He was worried this could be his fault.

"That's something we cannot share, Charles," Silvia weakly smiled.

He silently gasped for air; he had caused this. Fear flickered in his eyes. "Okay," Charles mumbled and opened the card. As he grabbed a pen, his mind became blank. He stared at the empty card, processing the situation.

The room fell into a contemplative silence, the weight of the unknown casting a shadow over what should have been a routine morning briefing. The Silverstone weekend had begun under a cloud of uncertainty, and the Scuderia Ferrari team found themselves navigating uncharted territory without their leader.

- press statement -

Official Statement from the Family of Matilde Jørgensen and Scuderia Ferrari

Dear Scuderia Ferrari and Formula 1 Fans,

We want to inform you that Matilde has been admitted to the hospital for a medical concern that requires some attention. We want to assure everyone that she is currently stable and receiving the necessary medical care. We understand the desire for more details, but we kindly request your understanding and respect for our family's privacy during this sensitive time.

At this time, Matilde needs some space for rest and recovery. Consequently, she will not be present for the upcoming weekend, and we appreciate your understanding regarding her absence. The medical team is taking good care of her, and we are hopeful for a swift and smooth recovery.

As always, we are grateful for Matilde's support and love from the Ferrari family, the Formula 1 community, and fans worldwide. We kindly request respect for our privacy during this period and will keep you updated as necessary.

Thank you for your understanding and warm wishes.

Sincerely,

The Jørgensen Family and Scuderia Ferrari

* * *

It didn't stay unnoticed that there was one team principal missing during the Friday at Silverstone. The news travelled fast through the paddock and beyond. As the morning unfolded, whispers of concern reverberated through the media centre, press rooms and social media platforms. The press release from the family and team confirmed some of the rumours, and photos and videos that were taken last evening - a few fans spotted the rushing ambulance leaving the paddock in the evening, causing so many rumours - but it was Matilde who was taken to the hospital.

Reports were exchanging speculative theories about Matilde's sudden absence. Twitter and other social media channels became flooded with questions and speculation because the statement provided minimal details. It confirmed her hospitalisation, but left the reason shrouded in mystery. Fans and media were craving information about the young team principal. The lack of information became a breeding ground for rumours and speculation.

The week began with all its focus on the huge sporting event in the weekend, but it quickly shifted to the missing and hospitalised team principal.

The whispers and speculations reached a crescendo when fans began piecing together the timeline of events. Fans witnessed the fallout back in Spielberg last weekend, could that be a reason for the absence? The realisation that Matilde was taken from the track to the hospital stirred a wave of anxiety among the Ferrari faithful. Concerned messages flooded the team's social media accounts, asking for updates and offering words of support.

The team was just as affected as the fans were. The first free practice was full of mistakes, especially by Charles. He was distracted and that was noticeable; messy mistakes in the corners, delayed reactions and the times were off. He blamed himself for Matilde's absence and it weighed heavily on his shoulders. He had been a pain in the arse to her, he gave her a hard time. What if he went too far?

Throughout the entire day, he kept reading the speculations on social media. He didn't know what kind of impact it had on the fans, but it was probably caused by the not-saying-much press release.

Tweets:

"MATILDE IS HOSPITALISED??? WHAT HAPPENED TO HER???"

"Just heard a theory about Matilde's absence at Silverstone - some say it might be stress-related burnout. Hoping for her speedy recovery!!!"

"Heard some dark whispers about Matilde leaving due to internal team clashes. It might be the reason why Matilde collapsed during the team principal's meeting. Hope it's just wild speculation!"

"Ferrari is no good to their team principles. Maybe Matilde collapsed due to all the fights within the team. Everyone does what they want to do in the team. What is going on?!"

Nobody in the team was aware of a sudden departure, but to Charles, it kinda wouldn't be a surprise after the way everyone treated her, including him. Gossip travelled fast through the paddock and over the internet, just like wild theories.

However, the day continued and Charles still had to see the media after the free practices.

"Charles, tough day out there on the track. Can you walk us through your day and the challenges you faced?" F1TV asked.

"Yeah, it was a bit of a tricky one today. We struggled a bit with the balance of the car during the first practice. We were trying some new setups, and it didn't go as smoothly as we hoped." Charles honestly replied and looked around while talking, he never looked the interviewer in the eyes during the interview. "The car felt a bit unpredictable, especially through the high-speed corners. But we have collected enough data, so we will work on it."

The interviewer nodded. "We saw during the second practice that you improved some runs. It seemed like you had it under control."

"Yes, we made some adjustments and it did feel better, but we're still not where we want to be," Charles replied. He was glad the man was only asking about the practices. It felt like he finally could answer properly and think about something else. "We are working hard to analyse the data and find some solutions for tomorrow, for qualifying, and of course, for Sunday." He showed a brief, but promising smile.

"The world is all thinking of Matilde's absence, did it have any impact on the team's performances today?"

Cheered too soon. "Well, it's certainly a bit different not having Matilde around. We all miss her, and I think it's been a bit of a challenge for everyone."

"Fans are speculating about Matilde's situation. Some say it's a reaction to your clash last week in Spielberg, that it caused her to be overstressed and perhaps even burnout. We've seen quite some moments that didn't go smoothly between her and the team. Do you have anything to say to that?"

Charles took a deep breath, recollecting his thoughts. "Uh... I wish I could provide more information, but honestly, I don't have my details. Matilde's family and the team have asked for privacy, and we respect that. All I can say is that we're sending our best wishes her way, and we hope to have her back with us soon," he replied. It was a scripted response, he had to learn that from Silvia and so far, it worked well. "But," he said before the reporter would ask his next question. Charles wanted to share that they made it up. He didn't have the chance to say it to anyone. "About the situation in Spielberg, we talked about it, and we're fine. I also spoke to Carlos and Max, we're all fine now. It was an unfortunate moment, and I'm not proud of it, but we have to look ahead of us, not behind us."

"Thank you for sharing this, Charles. We wish Matilde the best, and we hope to see her soon again."

"Thank you," Charles nodded and returned to the Ferrari hospitality.

"You didn't have to say the last part," the press officer mentioned.

"I wanted to."

The entire team made themselves ready for the debrief again. The engineers were already sharing some points with each other, others were enjoying an espresso, and some people were scrolling through special media.

"Guys," one of the engineers said. "There's a tweet going around that Matilde collapsed due to an addiction issue."

Silence fell in the room, and looks were shared. It was like someone pressed the pause button, no one was moving or saying anything.

"I heard a reporter say that the hospitalisation is linked to high blood pressure due to an unconfirmed pregnancy," someone else added.

Charles sat down on his chair, he was lost in the sea of rumours, the uncertainty gnawing at him.

One of the engineers noticed the unease in the room and took charge. "Alright, people, let's focus. For whatever reason Matilde is hospitalised, it still doesn't change the fact that we will support her. Whatever is circulating out there, is just speculation. We will hear from her once she is ready. But we have a job to do, and that's what we'll do now."

Everyone shifted their attention back to the technical details, the debriefing starting, but Charles remained distracted. The rumours circulating about Matilde's conduction were like a storm in his mind, each one more unsettling than the last. As the debrief continued, Charles had ups and downs regarding his concentration. When he needed to be focused, he was focused, but when it wasn't about him, his mind drifted away.

Luckily for Charles, the debrief came to an end quickly. He had to find Max, perhaps he knew something more about Matilde. He walked to the Red Bull's hospitality like he had one goal and one goal only.

"What are you doing here?" Max confusedly asked, he was walking around with his dinner, trying to find a spot to eat.

"Matilde... Do you know if she's okay?"

Max glanced around, making sure no one was in earshot. He signed to Charles that he could enter the cafeteria. They sat down in the corner of the area, where they had some privacy. "I don't have all the details, mate. But from what I've heard, it's serious enough that they're keeping it all under wraps. Toto and Christian were there when it happened, but even they are tight-lipped."

"But you are close to her..."

"I tried to call her, but her brother picked up the phone, not giving much information."

Charles felt a lump in his throat. "What do you think happened?"

"No idea. But you know Matilde, she's tough. She'll pull through."

Charles nodded, trying to hide the worry etched on his face. "But all those rumours," he breathed. "Stress, burnout, depression, clashes in the team. Maybe I'm the cause, maybe I pushed her to the limit and now she collapsed because I am a dickhead. And the rumours about an addiction, or unconfirmed pregnancy. I even heard that she had a miscarriage because of the stress I give her." He looked and sounded hopeless, a side Max hadn't seen of him yet.

"Don't blame yourself for things you don't know," Max replied.

"I just can't shake off this feeling that I could've done something differently."

"We all have those moments. But right now, she needs our support. If there's anything you can do, it's to stay focused on the race, keep the team together, and give her the strength she needs when she comes back."

Charles looked at Max, making eye contact, his eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and distress. "I hope she comes back."

"She will." Max observed Charles' body language. Charles had a hard time hiding his emotions, and the situation was taking a personal toll on him. Max could see that Charles genuinely cared about Matilde, and the worry for her well-being weighed heavily on his shoulders. It was a stupid thought, but perhaps that was the reason why Charles couldn't get along with Matilde.

"You care about her, don't you?" Max asked, his tone gentle.

Charles sighed, not attempting to mask his emotions. "Yeah, I do," he whispered, running his hand through his hair. "More than I probably should, given our position. She's my team principal. The entire team is, was, shocked, but they can handle it. I...I just can't stop thinking about the things I've done to her."

"She'll be fine. And none of this is your fault."

Next chapter

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @crashingwavesofeuphoria@maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry @snzleclerc

[jjkamochoso]

The Perfect Fit

Overview: Levi Ackerman begrudgingly finds himself falling in love with the Survey Corps’ seamstress. Will they be able to own up to their feelings for each other? Or is their love doomed to fail before they discover the truths of each other’s hearts? This slow burn reader insert story will be filled with angst, yearning, and a bit of mystery as we slowly unravel the truths behind Y/N’s past… and explore her and Levi’s future!

Chapter 13

Series Masterlist

Chapter 12 linked here

Chapter 14 linked here

Levi Ackerman x female reader

Warnings: kidnapping, violence, mentions of blood, allusions to prostitution and mentions of being in a brothel

This is hopefully long enough to make up for being away for so many months! I hope you guys like where the story is going :) this part’s pretty dark but it’s nothing out of the ordinary for AOT itself! I promise we’ll get to some fluffy goodness soon!!

Where we left off…

You scooted closer to Levi, an uneasy feeling settling over you the further you got away from the safety of the lit up house you were previously in. The houses in the next neighborhood were all but abandoned, no sign of living beings inhabiting the dilapidated buildings surrounding you. Levi took charge, leading you through the shortest route toward the inn you’d be staying at. He was moving so quickly that you grasped the back of his jacket so you didn’t get left behind. In the blink of an eye, he shoved you into a doorway as you spotted the glint of a blade barely miss you; it would’ve sliced your neck if he hadn’t moved so fast. You were stunned by the force of hitting the wooden door but quickly recovered when you saw a group of men with various knives and guns surrounding you and Levi. The latter bared his teeth, gripping a knife he had tucked in his belt, as he began slicing his way through the group, dodging bullets and cutting necks. While they were occupied with Levi, you took the chance to run. You knew of his superhuman strength; there was no way you could match it and you being there would hinder his ability to take them all down. You weaved through streets, the labyrinth of houses becoming more convoluted as you sprinted, but you at least remembered the general direction of the inn. You knew you couldn’t afford to stop moving at top speed but your lungs were ready to give out from exertion. You pulled yourself into a vacated building, panting as quietly as possible. When your heart no longer felt like it was going to burst, you opened the door to make a run for it when all of a sudden, you felt a knife prick the skin on your throat and heard the click of a gun.

“You’re comin’ with us, darling.”

“What do you want from me? I’m just a charity worker,” you pleaded as the man who spoke to you harshly grabbed your upper arm and began dragging you away, the knife now tucked away in his pocket. You hated the idea of being brought to a secondary location because the chances of you being found before something terrible happened were slim to none. You desperately tried to stall as much as you could, hoping they would distract themselves with a monologue to your questions long enough for Levi to catch up to you.

“Charity worker? Yeah, right,” he sneered, making his other, taller buddy snort sarcastically as he holstered the gun that was previously shoved in your back. “We know who you are and what family you’re from. You’re worth a lot of money, you know.”

“Really, you have the wrong girl,” you told them, but unfortunately their intel was too good for you to fool them.

“You’re Y/n L/n, now drop the act. It ain’t cute,” the other man, equally as nasty looking as the first, spoke up.

“Neither are you,” you grumbled under your breath, crinkling your nose in disgust at the dirty men manhandling you. You were feeling braver without them brandishing their weapons.

“Why you little-”

The taller man slapped you across the cheek, the sting rippling across your skin doing nothing but angering you.

“You call that a slap? My grandfather can hit harder than that and he’s been dead for years,” you jeered, the same man snarling at you now. He angrily grabbed the front of your shirt, the ribbon bow adorning your collar falling onto the grimy ground.

“You listen here, girl. The only reason you’re not lying dead in the street right now is because we want the ransom money from your parents. Don’t push your luck.”

As you felt his grip release, a thought struck you. With their weapons hidden away and nobody holding onto you for the brief moment, would it be wise to run? If need be, could you fight your way out of this?

A few months ago…

“Those moves are so cool. I wish I was taught to fight,” you had said to Hange, hanging out with them as they oversaw soldier training.

“Don’t tell me you don’t even know how to throw a punch?” they asked in a half concerned, half curious tone.

“…I don’t,” you answered sheepishly.

“Tch. I’ll teach you,” Levi had said, joining the conversation. “It’s stupid to walk around nowadays without being able to protect yourself.”

And teach you he did. You had met with him every day for a few weeks at the training grounds after hours, showing you how to properly shape your fist and use your body weight to your advantage in a fight. He was a scrappy fighter, quick with his evading movements and even faster on the offensive, and you were eager to learn as much as you could from him, soaking up each tidbit of knowledge he passed along to you.

“I hope you’ll never have to use these skills,” he had said on the last day of your training, “but I’m glad you can defend yourself if needed.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Levi. Thanks for being a great teacher.”

He nodded and turned away from you, the tiniest, satisfied smile resting on his lips.

You prayed to whatever heavenly body decided to listen at that moment that your lessons weren’t in vain. Without a second thought, you punched the man square in the nose with all of your might and immediately started running. You didn’t dare slow down or look back, afraid of what you might see if you did. You were sure that the other guy would be hot on your trail at any second and you couldn’t afford to be in this part of town by yourself any longer. You heard the gravel fly up from underneath your quick feet, crackling as the tiny stones settled behind you. If you could just reach past the next big building in front of you, you’d be closer to the city center and more apt to find help. You couldn’t slow down, had to keep pushing-

You cried out as a searing pain split through your right leg, causing you to stumble. The sound of a gunshot registered in your frenzied brain after you felt the steady stream of blood pour out of your new wound, soaking your sock. You tried to keep running, not wanting to risk getting caught, but to no avail.

“No more runnin’. I won’t say it again or next time I’ll aim for your head.”

The shorter man pushed you to the ground, one hand pointing the gun toward your body, ready to take your life, while the other dug through his pocket.

“Here.” He threw a roll of gauze that landed limp in your lap. “Bandage that and make it quick. I’m not missin’ my chance at money ‘cuz you bled out.”

You angrily obliged, not wanting to risk an infection in your open wound. Surely Levi heard all this commotion; at least the one good thing about being shot was that it could hopefully lead him straight to you. When your leg was wrapped, the bullet having only scraped the side, you were yanked off the ground and kept in a vice grip with the gun shoved into your back as you were forced back into the proximity of the second man.

“I’m gonna kill her!” the tall man shouted, blood still gushing from his nostrils.

“I want to as well but we can’t make another permanent mark on her body. It’ll lower her price.”

Lower my price? You thought. Wouldn’t that make my parents raise the ransom to avoid more harm coming to me? Unless…

Oh no.

“Looks like she finally understood what’s happening here,” the short man laughed as he saw your eyes widened from fear. “Either your parents pay ransom in the next 6 hours or we’re dumping you in the Underground.”

You tried to keep calm, but it was impossible with the very real threat of being sold in the Underground looming over you. Your parents would pay the ransom, they had to. They weren’t so far gone morally as to allow their daughter to be taken by these disgusting creatures. They weren’t corrupt and greedy enough to let you rot in the most horrendous conditions possible. They loved you.

Right?

“Wait, I have money of my own to pay you with. However much you want,” you said, trying to reason with the men who were leading you to your doom. Unfortunately, they either saw through your lie or didn’t care to deal with your bargaining, opting to laugh in your face once more as the entrance to the Underground came into view.

“What happened to waiting for the ransom? Why are we here already?” you asked incredulously.

“We decided to skip a few steps. If we don’t get the ransom money, you’ll already be down there without causing any more trouble.”

The tall man smiled at you devilishly, looking eerily similar to the cold blooded expression of a titan.

“Please, please, I’ll give you anything you want. Just let me go, please!” you begged as the lantern above the entrance to the Underground steps became visible in the dark of the night.

“You have nothin’ we want. You certainly don’t have all that money on you right now and we like our payday instant.”

It was now or never if you were to escape your certain demise. Once you were forced Underground, there was likely no way of anyone finding you.

“No! No! Levi! Help me!” You pulled against the tight grasps on your forearm, hoping to break free, but your injured leg was causing you to be in a weakened state and unable to loosen yourself from your captors. “Anyone, please! I’ve been kidnapped! Help, please!”

Again, the men just chuckled. This was truly evil personified. You’d much rather take on titans than these heartless monsters. By the time you reached the Underground stairs, you were in a frenzied state. Where were the police officers who were supposed to keep you safe? The concerned citizens who had to have heard your yells or the gunshot? Did everyone leave their humanity behind when the sun went down? You screamed and thrashed around, clawing the men and trying to bite them, anything to make them let go of you for even a second, but nothing worked.

“Shut her up or the MPs are gonna catch wind of this and make us give ‘em a cut of the deal,” the guard at the steps said.

“Happy to do so,” smirked the tall kidnapper, giving you a swift punch to the stomach. With the wind knocked out of you, you were rendered speechless as the shorter guy pulled out his knife and sliced a large strip of fabric from the bottom hem of your shirt. While you were trying to catch your breath, the makeshift gag was forced into your mouth. You looked at the guard, wide eyed and trying to convey your distress as well as you could in one last feeble attempt at getting help.

“Sorry,” he shrugged, “money rules everything and I’ve got a good operation going here. Who knows, you make enough down there and maybe you can pay your way up to see me.”

The wink he sent you was the last sight you had above ground before rough hands shoved you into the abyss below.

As you made your reluctant descent, you were reminded why you did your work to help the people who hailed from here. The world under Mitras was an incredible feat, there was no debate about that. However, the condition it was in certainly left much to be desired. The stale, acrid air hit your nostrils and made you want to puke. You never thought a trip down here could get more dismal than your previous ones, but you had never been at night. The city was alive with criminals and creeps galore, hungry eyes and dangerous grins making you cower as you were paraded to a destination unknown. You were being weaved through copious amounts of foot traffic, the Underground citizens seemingly more active at night. Actually, you realized they probably didn’t care if it was day or night since it was about the same amount of light streaming through the cracks—none. With every person you passed, you tried to gain their attention and let out muffled pleads for help, but most didn’t dare to look you in the eye and those who did just sneered at you. You realized you really were alone in this giant city, filling you with a sense of dread and despair you had never known before. You were steered into a dilapidated building, your heart rate quickening at what horrors you would meet inside. You yelped as you were pushed into a small, windowless room, a broken bed with a singular stained sheet as the only furniture.

“Time to see if mommy’s and daddy’s pockets are as deep as they claim,” said the short man.

“Who knows, we might just take the ransom and leave you here anyway. Double the pay,” chimed in the taller one, both men cackling at your misfortune. You untied the gag from your mouth but the men were already long gone before you could scream at them. You decided now would be a good time to figure out exactly where you were so you could start planning your escape. You exited the cramped room, taking in your surroundings. Outside was a long hallway, doorways lining both sides of it with one end being a dead end and the other opening to another bigger room. As you walked down the hallway toward the bigger room, you were hit with a nauseous feeling and it wasn’t just from the lingering smell of uncleanliness. You had been here before, dropping off clothes for the women and the latest unfortunate newborn who was a result of their work.

You were in a brothel.

Emotion swept over you in an instant with the severity of the situation making itself abundantly clear. You slid down in defeat, hugging your knees to your chest as you cried in the empty hallway. You were grateful for the lack of clients coming and going so you could sob in peace. Too enraptured in your own suffering, you didn’t notice someone approaching you until you felt a finger tapping your shoulder. Your head shot up in an instant, afraid of who it might be. Your tensed body immediately relaxed when you were met with a worried face of a kind looking woman. To your surprise, her outfit wasn’t in tatters and her hair looked clean, free from lice; she looked too put together to be employed here.

“Are you alright, my dear?” she asked, looking at your injuries and bleary eyes.

“Not at all,” you confessed, telling her the traumatic events you were experiencing. “I got kidnapped from above and I’m being held for ransom. Not to mention I’m probably getting sold here in a few hours and no offense but I’m not ecstatic about that.”

“I’m so sorry,” she soothed, letting her hand rest on your shoulder to comfort you. “What’s your name?”

“Y/n,” you croaked out, feeling a fresh wave of tears threaten to spill out.

Suddenly, her eyes lit up in recognition. “Wait, I know that name. You work with Mrs. Reimann, don’t you?”

“How… how did you know that?”

“You helped me. Many years ago,” she explained. “You brought clothes for me and my child. Without them, we wouldn’t have made it through the winter. It’s because of you that we survived. We were able to escape and now I work with Mrs. Reimann to pass along that same blessing to others like me.”

You used your last bit of strength to stand up once more, but you had to lean against the wall so you didn’t fall over. You needed medical attention for your leg and it was only going to get worse the longer you were down here in such unsanitary conditions.

“It’s my turn to help you like you helped me,” the mystery woman said, eyeing your weary body. “Tell me what you need and I’ll do it.”

“Thank you,” you told her sincerely, wondering how you got so lucky. “What’s your name?”

“Mina.”

“Okay, Mina. I need you to find someone for me.”

Levi hated to see you run out from under his watchful eye but it was a smart move on your part to get away from the group of attackers and let him handle it. What he didn’t expect was the two men who broke off from the group early on in the fight. At first he thought they were cowards, scared of meeting their end with his blade. It was too late by the time he realized why they ran and when he finally disposed of the never ending men attacking him, you were gone, leaving no trace but your discarded ribbon on the ground. The gunshot that rang out was a huge red flag to him but your body wasn’t there and the men wouldn’t have had time to dispose of it that quickly, meaning you were alive. Keeping a cool head, Levi wracked his brain thinking of what those men could’ve wanted with you. You never mentioned your background and for all he knew, you could've been from the city. You were aware of the luxury of breakfast in bed which meant you must’ve had a wealthy upbringing. Levi sighed; you were most likely being held for ransom. Were the L/n’s a high profile family? He hadn’t a clue. But he knew someone who did.

Levi ran as fast as he could back to Mrs. Reimann’s, clutching the ribbon in his hand and rubbing the soft texture nervously between his thumb and forefinger. He never expected something like this to happen, especially not with him being your supposed protector. He was upset with himself at letting you get hurt and he was upset at having to be back in this shitty city in the first place. Nothing good ever happens here, whether it be above or below ground. Having you by his side made it less painful to be so close to where most of his worst memories took place, but with you missing, your life in grave danger, he now felt as lost as you were. Slamming open the door to the shelter, Levi surprised the older woman heading up the stairs to get some rest.

"Y/n's missing," he said as plainly as he could, not wanting any emotion to come through his voice. "I need you to tell me if there's people here who want to hurt her."

Mrs. Reimann halted her steps but stayed silent.

"Answer me," he urged, his desperation slowly seeping through. "Tell me about her family. Her upbringing. Everything you know."

The salt and peppered haired woman turned toward him, sadness etching over her features. "I can’t believe they actually went through with it.”

His eyes narrowed, waiting for her to continue.

"She’s been taken for ransom. By who, I don’t know. I heard rumblings but I didn’t think it would actually happen,” she explained, making Levi’s heart pound in his chest in anger. “She comes from a wealthy family and you know how it is—everybody wants their hands on money.”

“Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” he seethed.

“Because there’s threats like that for people like her all of the time,” she replied. “I didn’t expect anything to come of it.”

Levi, raging on the inside, pried for more information. “Where do you think they’re holding her?”

“I don’t know. If I were to guess? A place where no one cares about you or your status. Somewhere someone could be easily lost and never found.”

A chill ran down Levi’s spine as he uttered the name of his next destination.

“The Underground.”

Chapter 14

Taglist: @blueeclipsepaperstudent @raginginferno267 @come-away-with-me87

[xonaisu]

naiyana chantarangsu home is the first grave; the monologue of a damaged child ˖ ࣪ ✦ despair is your first conscious emotion. a product of what was supposed to be a loving family thrust into a life where asking questions was looked down upon. you’re expected to follow rules and regulations but instead find comfort in an outlier so radical it opens your eyes to your own shackles. but unbeknownst to you, even in chaos lies rules of her own. you wonder if you can even begin to escape the bed you’ve made for yourself to lie in.

000. overview

A LIVE STUDY ON THE TORMENT OF THE SACRIFICIAL LAMB — in its salvation, evolution, and corruption. of befriending the wolf with its sharp teeth and earning its trust. through consuming poisonous fruit and adorning the skin of the predator.

most wouldn’t know how to begin to describe you. you don’t talk to anyone much, preferring to stay on your own, avoiding the chance to make any connections with those willing to extend a hand. quiet but respectful and somewhat kind, so nobody really has anything too bad to say about you. just a little too off-putting for your own good. mother did raise you as a representation of the family. you still can’t look her in the eye after all these years.

your reputation exceeds you, mythical to the point of near godhood. the fans do not know their god dreads the idea of being seen. their worship falls upon ears covered in agonized suffering. the praise borders on sickening on the good days. your—her?—existence in the public is sudden but the ripple effect is massive, many flocking to the raw sound of your voice. your desperation attracts the vultures that feed on your vulnerability. the company is only pleased by the numbers.

your past catches up to you far quicker than you thought it would. parental and romantic love both die in your childhood bedroom. the dollhouse becomes a true house of horrors, and you wonder if your hands will ever be washed of the blood it spilled in your haste for salvation.

001. file.

⭑ birth name. naiyana chantarangsu ⭑ stage name. naisu ⭑ nicknames. none ⭑ date of birth. oct 05 1998 ⭑ zodiac sign. libra ⭑ chinese zodiac. tiger

⭑ place of birth. bangkok, thailand ⭑ nationality. thai ⭑ ethnicity. thai ⭑ gender. female ⭑ pronouns. she / her / hers ⭑ sexuality. lesbian ( closeted (?) ) ⭑ height. 5’6” / 167.64 cm

⭑ face claim. namtan tipnaree ⭑ voice claim. nantam tipnaree ⭑ defining features. sharp eyes and nose, mole on her left cheek

⭑ occupation. idol ⭑ years active. 2021 — present ⭑ years trained. 2019 — 2021 ⭑ company. poser records ⭑ debut date. sept 21 2021

⭑ representative emoji. 🌑 ( official ), 🩰 ( fan selected ) ⭑ ind. fandom name. moonsu ⭑ instagram. officialnaisu

002. file.

BORN IN THE CAPITAL OF THAILAND, your introduction to the world is bloody and wretched. full moon hanging outside the window like an dark omen, you would emerge screaming as your mother’s breaths faded in the delivery room. stricken with grief, it wouldn’t take much for your father to fall down the lowly rabbit hole of neglect and despair. but to his credit, your father tried. enrolled you in school, tried his best to attended your spelling bees, hung your quizzes with full marks on the fridge. but he, too, would be consumed by swirling dark thoughts, leaving you with no immediate family willing to take you in. the only thing he leaves you with is an ominous sit down, a crumpled piece of paper with a series of numbers, and a speech you don’t understand.

you beg him not to leave. he does not listen. you call the number in tears.

a nice lady comes to pick you up. a madame jeong jiho, wife to the late ceo of jeong & co. you’re was whisked away from thailand with nothing but your clothes and the locket your father wore containing a picture of your parents at their wedding. insisting on being called just jiho, you’re brought up in a style of luxury—the perfect little girl. etiquette, professionalism, class. you were a doll. jiho’s doll, dressed in frills and pretty pinks to forget the broken family you came from. and when you weren’t crying for an emptiness you could not understand, you danced. you danced because jiho loved when you danced.

school is a flurry of names and faces you does not remember. graduation is a ceremony dulled by endless pictures and gifts from strangers you’ve never met. you might have fallen in love, once. you don’t remember her name. only that jiho caught you behind a pillar and it sent a tremor through your bones that hasn’t quite left since. you danced because your mother jiho loved when you danced, enrolled in singing lessons, and let yourself be whisked to seoul to audition at a company you didn’t know. because you ought to put your talent to good use, no?

[magmas-stuff]

Metal Sonic: Imperfect Self (character overview)

Hello again! Last time I did an overview of Eggman Nega, so this time I chose a character even closer to Dr. Eggman himself: Metal Sonic. This post aims to be a short analysis of the character, his motivations and what makes him so interesting as a foil to Sonic's free spirit.

Purpose. Identity. Sonic.

Introduced in Sonic CD, Metal Sonic was built by Dr. Eggman and given one sole purpose: destroying Sonic. Operating under the twisted belief that he is the real, true Sonic, Metal constantly tries to prove his superiority to his "imperfect self" in contests of speed, coming back stronger each time.

Metal Sonic continues to analyze the situation as he runs after him. He has been unable to beat Sonic since the first match. He has the best performance and a tireless body of steel. There are plenty of factors that make him unbeatable. And yet, he can’t win. Why? Why can’t he beat a hedgehog that just runs fast… And then… A rustle of electrons rippled through this sea of AI cognitive threads. …Isn’t that because he’s “just fast”? (Translation by @browniestash!)

Metal Sonic occasionally shows some doubt or insecurity in his sole mission, but ultimately never gives up, analyzing gathered data to rethink his strategy and come back as more of a threat than ever. And Sonic is more than happy to take the challenge.

He’s already sent out a distress signal. Help will be arriving soon and he will be recovered at Eggman’s base. If he can connect to the base’s main computer and analyze today’s data, he should be able to win the next round. There will be room to rethink his inhibitory behavior and attack patterns, as well as to sharpen his focus on speed. He can still reach a higher dimension. There is someone with whom he must determine who is better in that dimension… (Translation by @browniestash!)

Stripped of free will

While Sonic is, most of the time, the only thing in Metal Sonic's mind, he does have another relationship of great importance to his character: the one with his master and creator, Dr. Eggman.

Regularly filling the role of Eggman's silent enforcer, Metal Sonic holds a much higher status than most Badniks in the Eggman Empire, being among his favorite creations. He is a tool, sure, but he's undoubtedly one of his best tools.

Though, of course, this has little effect on his treatment of the metal doppelganger. As a general trait of Eggman's, while he is very much capable of praising his robots in the event they succeed...

...The doctor will offer them less than humane treatment when met with failure.

Seeing fault in his boss' leadership, Metal Sonic would reach his breaking point in Sonic Heroes, modifying himself into Neo Metal Sonic and taking charge of the Eggman Empire. Perhaps he thought that, with him in charge, the empire would finally be able to wipe out its opposition. More specifically, to wipe out Sonic the Hedgehog. Curiously, Metal Sonic here also aims to take over the world, though this may be a consequence of his will being "attuned" to Dr. Eggman's.

This attempt at overtaking his creator's empire fails, and Eggman takes this opportunity to strip Metal Sonic of his free will and turn him into an obedient robot once more. Despite his attempts, it would seem Metal still has some remaining autonomy, seeing as he'd double-cross Eggman once more in the future.

Conclusion

And that's Metal Sonic. A relentless robot with a single objective and a lot of hatred, who aims to prove his superiority and destroy his rival but is, as he sees it, held back by the lead of his creator. I've been meaning to write about this for a while, seeing as there's been a lot of interpretations of his motives floating around and it’s a character I find fascinating.

[literary-motif]

VI. Vengeance Is Mine, I Will Repay

In which the past resurfaces. ~3,600 words

Warnings: smoking, talk of suicide, memory manipulation

Overview // V. Les Aubes Sont Navrantes

Xanthus came looking for you. You heard his measured footsteps. He appeared beside you a moment later. “I apologize for the intrusion on behalf of my acquaintance. If I had known his plan to visit—”

Your gaze did not waver from the lake, the deep blue seeming silver in the morning sun. You waved a hand to disperse his concerns and offered him a cigarette. He glanced at you, taking out one and leaning towards the flame of the match you struck. 

You smoked in silence. 

“My mind has been wandering,” you confessed, avoiding his gaze. 

The morning light could make the most vulgar things beautiful. The ripples danced across the water. The birds chirped, and the sun shone. 

The scenery was beautiful. You had nearly completed a portrait — a beautiful work of art, truthfully — but despite the wonder all around, you could not shake the dissatisfaction clinging to you. 

Happiness never lasted. It was gone in an instant, like the flap of wings from a butterfly — or the anger of death. 

Happiness dispersed like a fickle, futile thing — and in the peaceful calmness of the morning sun, the thought occurred to you that you could never be happy. You had never looked for happiness. It was the fate of all great artists.

All is as thinking makes it so, and you were trapped in your discontent — in London, in Paris. It did not matter. It was not the scenery that created your dissatisfaction, it was you. 

You always looked for beautiful things in your art, trying to capture their soul and essence, trying to preserve the futile happiness they brought you in vain like a small flame threatening to blow out in a raging storm. 

It never lasted. Even your art was not enough to make you happy. 

You took a deep breath, gathering your courage. “I was wandering about yesterday,” you began. 

Xanthus grinned, hiding it by taking another drag of his cigarette. He did not tell you that he heard. He did not tell you that he knew exactly where you had been. 

“Why are some rooms in the south wing locked?” 

“I do not need the space, so I keep them secure and clean,” he said. He was waiting, daring you to ask about one room he knew for a fact had been unlocked. 

You nodded, a shudder running down your back at his dark glance. You could see him looking at you expectantly. The tower flashed before your eyes, the little piece of fabric at the edge of the roof.

You still felt the phantom sensation of Mr. Fint’s vice grip on your shoulders — What are you doing? — and his terrified look, searching your gaze and janking you away from the edge. Afraid. Were you bitten?

You could not bring yourself to utter the question.

Xanthus chuckled at your hesitation, taking another drag of his cigarette before letting it fall to the ground and pulling out a new one. He was amused but tired of this game. 

Dontis' arrival had broken the spell he had cast. Once the first compulsion slipped past his lips, the invisible line he had drawn for himself had been crossed. There was no point in holding back now. He yanked on the rope he had slowly tightened around your neck for his amusement.

Turning to you, he looked into your eyes. 

There was something about you he could not place. There was a haunted air about you, too, and although he had wanted you to reveal it in your own time — it was funnier that way — now his curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he did not want to let you go before finishing this story. 

“Trust me enough,” he said, smirking at the implications of his words, “to reveal your darkest secret to me.” 

Wordlessly, you pulled out the piece of paper in your pocket. 

Xanthus took it, raising his eyebrow. That was not the answer he had expected. He folded it open in curiosity.

A year into your stay in Paris, a letter had reached you. It was him begging you for help. 

‘My dear friend,’ it read, ‘I ask you to forgive me sincerely. My words were rash and not thought out properly. I hope you have it in yourself to forgive me for what I spat at you that day you came to say goodbye. 

‘A lot has happened since then. My mother has passed away from cholera. One of my little sisters is sick and cannot work. Believe me, I would not be so bold to write to you if I were not truly desperate, especially after what I said — after I threw your affections back at you — but I am on my last tether. My father has drowned us in debt, one so large that I cannot fathom ever being able to repay it. But it is a fickle sum to you. 

‘I ask you for help. I beg you. If you were still in London, I would fall to my knees before you. If I had the means to travel to Paris, I would do so by throwing myself at your feet. I beg you, help me. If your affections for me were real — if you truly love me as you claimed that day, please save me. I have reconsidered your offer. I will travel with you if you still wish it. If not, if you continue to resent me for what I said, I promise you will never hear from me again. Anything. Allow me to ask you for this last favor, please. I will do anything if you rescue me now. I need you.’

Xanthus frowned, lowering the letter and looking in confusion at the tears in your eyes. 

“I didn’t,” you choked, burying your face in your hands as your shoulders shook with sobs you had only allowed yourself to release in secret when the past inevitably caught up with you. “I left him to rot, comfortable with my life in Paris, comfortable with my paintings. I never wanted to return. I wanted to kill the past and leave it to fend for itself in London while I drowned in art and beauty and decadence and hedonism” — you gasped, chest burning from your confession —“the only reality I faced was buried in my delusions of romanticism.”

You shook your head, tears rolling down your cheeks as the disgust at what you had done washed over you. It made you sick to your stomach. The animosity would be reflected in Xanthus’ eyes you were sure, but you did not dare to look at him as you continued, biting out the words as if compelled.

“His sisters died,” you said. “Both of them. He hung himself after that. There was no hope for him, no reason to continue when everyone he had lived for was gone. I could have— I didn’t. It is my deepest regret,” you breathed shakily, choking on a sob. “I killed the person I said I loved. I took a life!”

Xanthus looked at you. You did not hold his unreadable gaze, ducking your head in shame. In an instant of clarity, your eyes widened at what you had told him, and you placed a hand over your mouth in horror. 

“Look at me,” he said. You raised your head hesitatingly. 

Xanthus dropped his cigarette, taking a step until he stood directly in front of you. He cupped your cheeks and kissed you fiercely. 

You gave a noise of surprise but melted into his warm palms, tilting your head a little to allow him to deepen the kiss. He pulled away.

“I love you,” he professed with fire burning in his eyes. You saw a passion so destructive it made you want to back away. Your heart skipped a beat. He smirked at your shock, turning his head to look towards the estate. “We are the same, you and I,” he said, gazing at the steeple. 

“What— What do you mean?” you asked, voice trembling. The roof flashed before your eyes, the white fabric fluttering on its edge. It could not be—!

Xanthus chuckled. “I think you know,” he said.

“You?” you gasped, “but how did— what— you killed them?” 

“No,” Xanthus said, brushing invisible dust from the sleeves of his expensive black coat. 

You searched his gaze, trying to find answers to the myriad of questions shooting through your mind.

He smirked. “Technically, he killed himself,” he purred. “I just told him to.”

You took a step back in fear, too shocked to run. Understanding dawned on you — Mr. Fint’s iron grip, the panic in his eyes when he found you at the top, looking down.

“Why—” you breathed. Your head was spinning, and your legs felt like jelly. You feared you were going to pass out.“How—?”

“Him specifically” — Xanthus pretended not to hear you as he pointed towards the tower and the fabric fluttering in the wind — “he begged me to let him in as he stumbled across my land in search of sanctuary from a storm. I answered his cries, toyed with him a little, and feasted on him. He was grateful, and when he asked how he could repay me, well,” he grinned, flashing his white teeth, “I told him to jump.” 

“How—?”

“Compulsion.”

“What?”

“I am a vampire,” he said drily before shaking his head with a sigh. “You should not know about that, I fear.” 

You backed away slowly, nearly tripping over your feet as panic clouded your mind. Rosaria’s concerned glances at your neck, the picture of Lawrance, your dazed state after the evening in the study— Had he drunk from you? What had he done with his power to compel you? 

The last few days had passed in a daze. How many of your memories were real? What had he done to you? 

He was capable of anything. 

Xanthus laughed quietly. “I can hear your heart thundering in your chest, you know,” he said. “It is rather amusing, but anyway. Forget the last part. You just told me about your stay in Paris.”

You blinked, finding Xanthus staring at you expectantly. You chuckled nervously, only vaguely remembering telling him something about your time abroad. 

“Pardon, I lost my train of thought,” you said, taking the cigarette he offered you with shaking fingers. Your heart was beating almost painfully hard in your chest, and you took a few steadying breaths, trying to recall what had made you so anxious.

“That is quite alright,” he said, lighting your cigarette. “You were telling me about” — he paused — “impressionism, I believe.”

“Yes, it is popular in Paris,” you said, clearing your throat and hiding that you remembered absolutely nothing of the conversation by taking a drag. “How do you like it?”

“I do not,” he answered, leading you back towards the mansion. “I agree with Lady Bingley on how the technique is merely ‘shaky brushstrokes.’”

You laughed, shaking your head at the slander of art. 

When you stepped inside, Dontis was still lounging on the settee, nestled in the soft pillows. “Pardon me,” he said, sitting up when you entered the room and fixing his appearance. 

Xanthus shot him a dark look, jerking his head towards the door curtly. 

Dontis inclined his head, understanding. “I apologize for taking my leave of you so soon,” he said, leaping to his feet,“ but I have an engagement in a nearby town. A meeting for lunch” — he glanced pointedly at Xanthus — “It was a pleasure to see you again and an honor to meet you.” He finished, taking one of your hands and pressing his lips to the back of it. 

“Likewise,” you said, trying not to get embarrassed.

“Good day,” Xanthus said, resuming his pose in the armchair. 

You smiled at Dontis, picking up the brush. He looked sad, almost pitiful as his gaze softened when he looked at you. “Goodbye,” he said with heavy finality.

The portrait was completed. Your eyes still roamed it in search of imperfections. There were none, but you were not satisfied. 

Xanthus had broken his pose long ago, and after finishing his third cup of tea, he appeared behind you to figure out what was causing the deepening frown on your face. He tilted his head, looking at the painting. “It is beautiful,” he said, genuinely impressed.

You hummed, lowering the paintbrush that had hovered over the canvas for a few minutes now. “Are you happy with it?” you asked, looking over your shoulders to find his ruby eyes wide, mesmerized by his painted image.

“I am more than satisfied,” he said, gaze falling to you in wonder. Was this how you saw him? 

The atmosphere was divine, dark but ethereal. He looked content, poetic, and artistic in his displeasure. He was satisfied in his misery — in the torrent storm of life. The portrait revealed a darkness you knew all too well.

Something within Xanthus snapped then. He did not care about subtlety anymore. This game he was playing seemed useless now. He had lost his patience in manipulating you. Now, he wanted to take and taste to still his desire. He wanted to indulge and douse himself in you until his thirst was quenched. 

There was no point to his illusions now. The chase was finished. The thrill was gone — he could simply make you forget again.

He put his hands on your shoulders, spinning you around. Your back hit the bookcase harshly. You yelped in surprise, startled at the sudden movement. Xanthus paid you no mind, licking his lips. The faint smell of fear hit him, and his mouth watered in anticipation. 

You looked at him with wide eyes, heart picking up at how close he was, towering over you as you shrunk away. “Xanthus?” you asked breathily. 

He looked at you and did not say a word as he lunged forward, sinking his teeth into your neck like a man starved. You gave a startled yell as fear shot through you, quickly turning into a low whine as your eyes rolled back in bliss. 

It felt good. A fuzzy feeling settled deep inside your chest and clouded your mind as you lost yourself to it. You melted against Xanthus, relying on him to keep you upright. 

He held onto you securely, making sure you did not sink to the ground as he drank, feasting on you and groaning softly as your warm blood filled his mouth. 

The gentle warmth began to burn as your head spun. You could no longer make sense of the world. It was pure instinct that made you place your hands on his chest, pushing against him with your feeble strength to get him to back off. 

Xanthus was indulging more than he should, he knew. There was no point in stopping. He would reward himself with this. He would take until he was satiated. He would take until he was satisfied.

Your whines of pleasure grew weaker as your breath came in short huffs. Fighting the darkness at the edge of your vision, you felt your tongue heavy in your mouth. You could not utter a word. The only sound escaping you was a delusional, choked-off whimper.

Distantly, you thought you were going to die. Whatever was happening — whatever Xanthus was doing — brought you to the edge of your endurance. He was steadily pushing you towards the deep end, dangling you above the edge of a cliff. 

You stared into the valley below, waiting for the fall, waiting for the feeling of air rushing, choking you as your stomach dropped. Any moment, he would let go of you. Any moment, you would plummet towards hell.

He collects souls. The words echoed in your ears as you felt how he drained you. He was stripping something away that might very well be your soul. He was taking your life. He was leaving you hollow. 

There was nothing you could do — your thoughts too sluggish to fully comprehend what was happening, and your body too weak to instinctively defend yourself. 

You leaned against him, feeling weightless in the short limbo between jump and fall. You were looking at the ground beneath you, seeing the length you would drop, feeling gravity pull you downwards. You would crash. You would die.

Xanthus released you with a pop and a low groan, licking his lips languidly. He took hold of your lulling head, forcing you to look into his eyes. They were a rich red, gleaming with rare satisfaction. 

“I said my goodbyes. I took my leave of you for an important engagement and could not see you off personally.”

You were barely holding onto consciousness as he muttered the words. 

The last thing you saw were the sharp teeth in his pale face, the white tainted red. He looked like the creature from your nightmares. He looked like the thing you had feared in the dark, watching you in the empty hallway, crawling up the walls. 

He was the demon of the estate, you thought, falling into unconsciousness. 

“Forget the last few minutes.”

Xanthus moved you to the settee, letting you fall onto it carefully. His gaze flickered from your unconscious body to the portrait you had painted. 

Vita brevis, ars longa.

Fading human life. It was so fickle, barely relevant in the grand scheme of things. What were you to him? You would be dead in a century, probably less. You were irrelevant. 

At the height of his emotional affections, there always came the inevitable crash.

The connection with you was a mere whim, and he rolled his eyes at the irrationality of emotion and his lapse in judgment. I love you. What was he thinking? He was above such things. You were nothing but a speck of dust. He could crush you if he wanted to. Looking at you sprawled out defenselessly, he very nearly did. 

Sighing, he tucked in his cravat and adjusted his collar, leaning down to run his fingers softly through your hair. 

Still, he allowed himself to feel this momentary surge of affection, closing his eyes and savoring the taste of care and something akin to love rushing through him as he heard your gentle breathing, listening closely to your elevated heartbeat. 

In an instant, his affections ceased. 

He opened his eyes. Straightening, he looked down at you — your fragile body, your little speck of life. There was nothing of interest to him within you anymore. 

The game was done. 

Retrieving a paper, he wrote you a check and placed it in your pocket. After that, he left. His business with you was completed.

You awoke to a hand on your shoulder, shaking you gently. Opening your eyes, you saw Mr. Fint leaning over you, smiling softly as your gaze settled on him. 

“I have prepared the carriage,” he whispered. You were thankful, touching a hand to your forehead at the sharp pain in your head. “You can continue sleeping there. Come on, let’s get you home.”

“I have to—” you slurred, sitting up and swaying. 

He steadied you, wrapping one arm around your back and lifting yours to rest on his shoulder. He helped you stand, guiding you through the corridor and to the front of the mansion.

“Your luggage is already stored,” he continued, keeping his voice light. “Every paintbrush is packed. No need to worry.” 

The carriage was already prepared, waiting for you. 

He helped you in, setting you against pillows that had not been there before. He pointed towards a small basket on the opposite cushions. “There is some food if you should like to eat. Water as well. Rosaria was adamant about including some garlic flowers,” he chuckled, guiding your head to rest against the pillows. “They never help, but she persists. Rest well.”

You were half-delirious when the carriage set into motion, raising your head to look out of the window and watch numbly as the mansion faded from view. The small cottage at the edge of the property came closer, and you saw Rosaria standing on the front porch, looking at the carriage. She stared solemnly, her gaze fixed on you as she crossed herself. 

You lowered your head again, sinking into the pillows as you succumbed to your exhaustion and the pounding pain of your headache.

The jostling of the carriage on the uneven road tore you from peaceful slumber a few times on the way back to London. During one such instance, you tiredly shifted on the cushion, trying to get comfortable as you felt something poking your rib. Reaching inside your pocket, you pulled out an unfamiliar piece of paper. 

Your eyes widened when you saw the sum on the check, immediately remembering how wealthy Lord Claiborne was. You felt compelled to thank him for his generosity. It was a shame he had not been able to see you off himself, although you were relieved that he had not found you blacked out in his drawing room. 

What had come over you?

You frowned, hissing at the pain in your head and closing your eyes again. You stored the valuable paper and rolled to your side to give in to the pull of sleep. 

At the edge of consciousness, a thought occurred to you. It made you frown. You did not remember thanking him for paying you, nor even receiving the check. 

It had been in the same pocket you kept the letter.

You never would have stored it there. 

Annotations // VII. Even In Excess Of Misery

[deancasbigbang]

Title: Beneath the waves

Author: HallmarkDestiel

Artist: suninjang

Rating: Mature

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Background Gabriel/Sam Background Michael/Adam. Background Crowley/Bobby Past Dean/Lisa

Length: 40000

Warnings: Severe Child abuse. Neglect. Child abandonment. Pregnancy loss. Loss of Pregnancy.

Tags: Mermaids. Marine biologists. Adventures. Atlantis. Secrets. Friendship. Bad guys being bad guys. Hero Castiel. Battles and wars

Posting Date: October 16, 2023

Summary: Dean is a marine biologist who is going on an expedition to find the lost city of Atlantis. Castiel is a mermaid who has dedicated his life to protecting his home city, which happens to be Atlantis. Dean doesn’t know Castiel’s secret and Castiel is determined to keep it that way.

Excerpt: The water sparkled under the midday sun as Castiel swam gracefully through the depths of Lake Overview. His iridescent tail glimmered with every movement. Surveying the area was Castiel's duty as a guardian of the lake and to make sure that humans didn’t get too close to the portal that was located in the lake because there are different portals to Atlantis in all large bodies of water. His keen eyes noticed the ripples on the water's surface, disturbed by the forceful splash nearby. Intrigued, he swiftly swam towards the source of the commotion. There, struggling against the weight of his waterlogged clothes, was a human man. Panic and desperation filled the man’s eyes as he fought to stay afloat, but the more he struggled, the closer he came to being claimed by the depths. Castiel's heart raced with a sense of urgency as he realized the human’s predicament. Without hesitation, Castiel propelled himself forward. He reached the man just in time to witness the man's foot becoming trapped between two unforgiving rocks. Time seemed to slow as Castiel's mind raced for a solution. Summoning his strength, Castiel exerted his mermaid magic. He wrapped his slender arms around the other man’s waist, his touch imbued with a calming energy that washed away the panic. With a powerful surge of his tail, Castiel freed the human’s foot from its rocky prison. Together, they ascended through the water, Castiel guided him to the surface like a protective angel. Breaking through the water's veil, the human gasped for precious air, his breaths ragged but grateful. Castiel hovered nearby, his luminous eyes filled with relief. He dragged the man to the beach and stared at him for a few seconds, wanting to remember what he looked like, what he smelled like— other than salt water.  He wanted to know what he sounded like. Castiel heard other voices and knew he had to leave so he jumped back into the water disappearing into the depths of the lake.

DCBB 2023 Posting Schedule

[satoshi-mochida]

SUNSOFT is Back! Retro Game Selection coming west on September 6 for PS5, Xbox Series, and Switch - Gematsu

Publishers Red Art Games and SUNSOFT will release SUNSOFT is Back! Retro Game Selection for PlayStation 5, Xbox Series, Switch, and PC via Steam on September 6 in the west for $9.99 / €9.99, the companies announced. Physical editions will also be available for PlayStation 5 on October 4 in Europe.

SUNSOFT is Back! Retro Game Selection first launched digitally for Switch and PC via Steam on April 18, 2024 in Japan. A physical edition is due out for Switch on October 10 in Japan.

In Europe, the PlayStation 5 version will also be available in physical standard edition for €34.99. A Red Art Games store-exclusive Deluxe Edition, also priced at €34.99, includes a copy of the game with a reversible cover, an exclusive sleeve featuring alternate cover art, a double-sided poster, and an acrylic stand of SUNSOFT’s logo.

Here is an overview of the collection, via Red Art Games:

About

SUNSOFT is back and it’s bringing some of its 8-bit classics to the west for the very first time! In SUNSOFT is Back! Retro Game Selection, discover three of the legendary Japanese publisher’s Famicom games and play them in English for the first time ever! The three games included are: The Wing of Madoola, Firework Thrower Kantaro’s 53 Stations of the Tokaido, and Ripple Island. Dive into SUNSOFT’s rich history by playing those Action and Adventure gems from the 1980s!

Included Games

Firework Thrower Kantaro’s 53 Stations of the Tokaido (Action, 1986) – As fireworks maker Kantaro, prevent evil merchants from turning his creations into weapons!

The Wing of Madoola (Action, 1986) – Help fierce warrior Lucia retrieve the powerful Wing of Madoola from the evil King Daltos. Directed by Kenji Sada (Blaster Master), with music from Naoki Kodaka (Albert Odyssey, Super Fantasy Zone).

Ripple Island (Adventure, 1988) – Play as Kyle, a young boy dreaming of a better life, who answers King Dotella’s call for help against the nefarious Emperor Groaker. Directed by Atsushi Sakai (Atlantis no Nazo, Ikki), with music from Naoki Kodaka.

In addition to giving brand new localizations to all three titles, multiple quality of life features have also been added to make the gameplay experience more pleasant, and less unforgiving, to modern gamers.

Key Features

All three games playable in English for the first time ever.

Save States.

Rewind.

CRT filter.

Multiple aspect ratios and borders.

Gallery Mode showcasing concept art and promotional material.

3D models of the original game cartridges.

Watch a new trailer below. View a new set of screenshots at the gallery.

Western Announce Trailer

[inklings-challenge]

Team Tolkien 2023

Announcing the 2023 Inklings Challenge team assignments!

Members of Team Tolkien are challenged to write a science fiction or fantasy story within the Christian worldview that fits into one of these two genres:

Secondary World Fantasy: Stories that takes place in an imaginary realm that’s completely separate from our world

Time Travel: Stories exploring technology that allows travel through time

These genres are open to interpretation, and creativity is encouraged.You can use either or both of the prompts within your story, or if you’re feeling ambitious, you can write multiple stories.

Team Tolkien members are also asked to use at least one of the following seven Christian themes to inspire some part of their story.

Feed the hungry

Give drink to the thirsty

Clothe the naked

Shelter the homeless

Visit the sick

Visit the imprisoned

Bury the dead

Writers are challenged to complete and post their story to a tumblr blog by October 21, 2022, though they are encouraged to post earlier if they finish their story before that date. There is no maximum or minimum word limit. Writers who have not completed their stories before the deadline are encouraged to post whatever they have written by October 21st and post the remainder at a later date.

Posting the Stories

All stories will be reblogged and archived on the main Inklings Challenge blog. To assist with organization, writers should tag their posts as follows:

Mention the main Challenge blog @inklings-challenge somewhere within the body of the post (which will hopefully alert the Challenge blog).

Tag the story #inklingschallenge, to ensure it shows up in the Challenge tag, and make it more likely that the Challenge blog will find it.

Tag the team that the author is writing for: #team lewis, #team tolkien, or #team chesterton. 

Tag the genre the story falls under: #genre: portal fantasy, #genre: space travel, #genre: secondary world, #genre: time travel, #genre: intrusive fantasy, #genre: adventure

Tag any themes that were used within the story: #theme: food, #theme: drink, #theme: clothing, #theme: shelter, #theme: visit the sick, #theme: visit the imprisoned, #theme: burial

Tag the completion status of the story: #story: complete or #story: unfinished

Team Members

The writers assigned to Team Tolkien are:

@ablatheringblatherskite

@afairmaiden

@angedemystere

@as-dreamers-do

@atlantic-riona

@brievel

@caitriona-3

@catkin-morgs

@challenger2013

@christian-latte-anon

@clarythericebot

@dragonladyzarz

@dragonteaandfairyhoney

@enchanted-prose

@enjoliquej

@esters-notepad

@friendrat

@frominsidetheblanketfort

@gailyinthedark

@lady-merian

@lilflightlessbird731

@maltheniel

@mentallydatingahotcelebrity

@misscrazyfangirl321

@musicofthedaylight

@olyia-stories

@on-noon

@onewingedsparrow

@plainshobbit

@politicalmamaduck

@queenlucythevaliant

@rachellesedai

@reneethegreatandpowerful

@ripple-reader

@rowenabean

@ru-tabega

@shakespearean-fish

@soulwindproductionsblog

@taleweaver-ramblings

@teabooksandsweets

Writing resources, including the Challenge overview, FAQ, writing prompts, and discussions of the genres are available at the Inklings Challenge Directory. Any writers with further questions can contact the Inklings Challenge blog for guidance.

Welcome to the Inklings Challenge, everyone! Now go forth and create!

[gothicscorpiohub]

Lost You–2

Genre: Thriller–Romantic

Pairing: Marvel Loki x Reader

Overview: As soon as Loki acknowledges the arrival of Thanos, the first thing in his mind was to secure the precious possession, his wife Y/n. The things however don't work out as per the expectations. Would the love of theirs survive after the predicted death of Loki? Did he survived? How?

Part 1:

He was here

Thanos,

To take the tesseract,

To engulf them all in his cruel tactical plan,

Thanos was here,

To initiate the war.

To kill them all

Before proceeding to take further actions, Loki teleported his way to the chamber he and y/n shared to examine Y/n's security, to bound her safely in the room. Opening the door, he was met with the beautiful serenity of his wife.

She sat comfortably on the couch, with her back arched upon the cushioned backboard, her swollen feet were kept on the empty table to seek some rest from the constant uneasiness caused due to pregnancy, on her lap were the remainder of the food packages Loki kept for her, the swollen belly of hers was being caressed softly by her hand, a mild serene smile plastered on her face.

Loki's heart fluttered from the sight of Y/n who, no matter what, would never leave his side. He can't imagine how could anyone go through these severe situations and that too during pregnancy and not uttering a word for complain.

All the knowledge he acquired through the books indicated the increased level of anxiousness in the lady but he incredibly admired how his wife handled the toughest of the hard situations this smoothly. He has never heard a single complain from her side and he'll not be wrong to admit him been yearning for her to show her mood swings out rather than complying them herself.

He didn't knew what he did to deserve such a beautiful, talented, fierce socceress as his wife and the mother of his child. He wondered how witty would their offspring be

Noticing him, Y/n looked up, eyebrows furrowed the slightest "What's wrong?" She asked right away. No matter how hard Loki tried to convince his expression, she always picks right on him. "Nothing darling, just a minor velocity change of the ship. Stay here until it's practicing normal speed." He tried to lie swiftly, not being the God of Mischief for nothing. Standing up, she quirked her eyebrows, clearly annoyed with her husband lying to her.

"Loki, you brought tesseract with you." She quietly spoke, advancing to him for a clear conversation, placing a hand on her womb, as if supporting herself against the pain. Loki wanted nothing other than his urge to hug her and soothe her pain, only if the circumstances granted him so.

"What do you mean darling?" He tried to sound as confident as he can, but standing before her to lie wasn't any easily appealing task, his insides were rippling with anxiety. He didn't had much time, he has to secure her room and has to face Thanos.

"Lie as much you want, husband" she said weakly annoyed, turning around. She never appreciated him lying to her, it's always when she grasps his lies within a second of him using his silver tongue, but that always leads her being insecurely disappointed. Loki knows perfectly how hurt she gets when he, of all, isn't honest to her. It truly breaks Loki's heart just as much to lie to her.

"Make sure he'll never be around."she added quietly before ascending towards the washroom, leaving Loki speechless.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Anxiety was coursing through his veins, mind running through several scenarios to tact them all out the reach of Thanos. His brain was throbbing with unexplainable intensity, his heart beating at such a pace he never it is capable of.

Thor's head was held captive by the enormous hand of Thanos. His witchy companion was speaking something regarding mercy they were doing on the Asgardians but Loki wasn't keeping up with any word, desperately running through the tricks he could use at the situation.

"– I'm sure you have a preference." Thanos said, smiling devilishly.

"Oh I do, kill him." Loki said, trying to sound as nonchalant as he could. Thanos's grip on his brother's head tightened as such that Thor seemed on the urge of bursting through his skull, his loud whimpers echoing through the destroyed walls of the room.

"Alright, stop." Loki bellowed.

An uncomfortably fuzzy blanket seemed to cover his brain, as if he wasn't controlling it, someone else was in control of him. Loki is known to these tricks and henceforth is completely aware to button the feelings.

Drawing a dagger at his side, conceiving it from as many eyes as he may, he advanced to Thanos, conjuring the glowing, icy blue tesseract in his hands. Thanos's gaze seemed to penetrate Loki's. He knew well the Mischief God, and which was what scared Loki.

With a swift motion, Loki swayed his dagger up at Thanos's neck utilising all the might he could afford at such unforeseen circumstance. His heart was caught in his mouth, skipped several beats once he felt his wrist stopping mere inch away from its target. Noting the situation briefly, with a jerk his insides warned him about the regretful stunt he had done, a large, beefy, uncomfortable lump seeped to block his oesophagus.

His hand was bound to stop in its movement of intended murder of a Titan with a small dagger, with the seidr of the infinity stone. Not a moment he had to process himself being pulled up by Thanos's big purple hand, wrapped around Loki's neck tightly, coiling around his neck tighter with every fraction of a second passing. Loki's vision started blurring out, the surroundings started to become more and more foggy, with a dizzying nausea coiling inside, his senses were going numb and before blacking out completely, the last thing that crossed the barrier of his numbness was a sharp stinging pain in his lower abdomen.

It's around 12 and yeah I wasn't able to draft this more appropriately. Let me know if you want another sequel.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Part 3:

P.S. : consider me as your friend and you may always talk to me even if you're not suffering from depression and anxiousness, certain things are even worse.

I've been considered confidential hooman whole a lot. I won't judge.

Anyways, 3rd part is out!!!

[holok3holok]

Voidpunk Workshop: unleashing your inner voidsona

Date : Dec 14 (Saturday) 2024

Time: 2:00pm-6:30pm

Venue: Goethe Institut, Hong Kong Arts Centre , Wan Chai

Artists involved: HOLOK, Rik Yu Wing Kei

Voidpunk is a subculture arising from Tumblr since 2018, in this workshop, artist Holok Chen will give an overview of the movement and together with Rik Yu explore the inner world of participants through a summon board , clay figures and face painting.

At the end of the workshop, there will be a catwalk and photo shooting session for our participants to showcase their voidsona.

Artist bio:

Holok Chen

Once upon a time, there were a group of alien people wandering around across the universe, hidden between the cracks….

Their discourse surrounds the ideas of precarious life, displacement and dysphoria through speculative fabulation and void punk.

The gender-neutral persona takes inspirations from sci-fi and circus performers, expressing a profound sense of loss and sadness.

OMNIA MEA MECUM PORTO; PER ASPERA AD ASTRA

RiK Wing Kei Yu is a passionate artist who explores the idea of "self" and how it fits into today's world through different art forms like performances, drawings, installations, and traditional heritage crafting. Yu's art practice covers a wide range: community arts, spatial art, art history, and art education. As part of the [VPA-mm24] initiative, in this upcoming Voidpunk Almanac workshop, Yu will take on the duty of Red Mage, hallooing the lost part of the “self” from the void - in order to reconstruct the existence of “non-human” within the “self” and its relationship to the contemporary.

* This Workshop is a part of Colours of Humanity Arts Prize’s exhibition “Ripple Effect”

In collaboration with 🇩🇪Goethe Institute and 🇪🇺European Union Office to Hong Kong and Macau