#write for me technology

[alltechfacts1]

The Top 7 Latest technology That Will Shape 2024

Discover the latest innovations in technology in different industries and shape your better future with these miracles.

Introduction

In today’s dynamic era, keeping up with the latest technology is essential, especially if you’re in a technology niche and aiming for a career upgrade. From AI to the IoT, technology is evolving at a rapid pace, making it crucial for everyone to stay updated and upgrade themselves with ever-evolving technologies.

Here are the latest technologies you need to know about in 2024, ensuring you stay ahead in this rat race and make informed career choices.

Generative AI

Generative AI is the latest innovation, allowing machines to generate human-like text, content, images, audio and even videos. It’s trained on a massive database of billions of web pages & passed by trillion-parameter models and can generate output in a matter of seconds. Toos like DALL-E and ChatGPT have shown the potential of Generative AI, though there are concerns about DeepFake and generating copyrighted content and false facts.

Key capabilities include:

Generating almost realistic images from text

Creating articles, stories, and more on any topic by providing prompts only

Engaging in open-ended conversations and answering follow-up questions

Space Tourism

This latest business model has commercialised space travel for leisure and business purposes for citizens. As it is costly, only the ultra-wealthy can access this tourism. There are some key players like SpaceX, Blue Origin, and Virgin Galactic involved in fulfilling this unrealistic dream.

Key points of Space Tourism:

Planned private space stations for special tourism

Short-time orbital flights offering a few minutes of mind-blowing experience of Space

Multi-day orbital trips after establishing space stations

Despite having high costs, the space tourism market is expected to exponential growth. As launch costs decline and technology advances, space tourism could open to anyone.

Electric Vehicles

With the latest automotive technology, EVs replace polluting internal combustion engines with efficient electric motors and batteries.

The benefits of EVs are:

Zero direct emission reduces environmental pollution, especially in urban areas.

Lower operating costs by charging instead of low-efficient liquid fuel

Low maintenance cost and lesser noise pollution

Offer a smoother, quieter driving experience compared to traditional vehicles.

Global EV sales crossed 14 million units in 2023, more than double the 2022 numbers.

However, challenges faced by this latest technology are organized charging infrastructure and battery production and their sustainable recycling process.

Blockchain Technology

Blockchain is decentralised technology driven by Distributed Ledger Technology (DLT). It ends the domination of central authority and stores data across numerous interconnected systems.

Key points are:

Data stores across numerous systems and make it blockchain

It enables the transaction of digital currencies without intermediaries.

Facilitate Cryptocurrencies, DeFI applications, NFTs and more.

Blockchain’s market size exceeded $7.6 billion in 2022 and could grow over 85% annually through 2030 beyond just finance. Industries like finance, supply chains, healthcare, real estate, governance and other sectors actively explore blockchain to streamline processes.

Internet of Things (IoT)

The IoT revolutionised the latest wave of connectivity across physical and digital devices, from simple household objects to highly complex industrial tools. It allows data to flow between human and computer systems for better connectivity. This technology relies on sensors run by low-cost components, high-speed wireless connectivity and cloud computing.

Great features are:

Embedded sensors and software enabling data exchange

Remote monitoring and control capabilities

Expansion of Software-as-a-Service (SaaS) business models

Allows remote access across domains like health care, household appliances, transportation, etc.

Over 30 billion IoT devices are estimated to be sold by 2025 and unlock business opportunities worth $2.5 trillion by 2029.

Quantum Computing

Quantum computing solves complex problems more efficiently than ever. It enables advancements in cryptography, AI, and other sophisticated tech domains. While conventional computers process information as binary 0s and 1s, quantum computing processes quantum bits or qubits that can exist as 0s, 1s, or both states simultaneously.

It allows us to evaluate multiple potential solutions in parallel for certain problems rather than subsequently. Areas where quantum computing could transform include cryptography, material science, pharmaceutical development, AI, and more.  Technology gains nations, and startups are racing to develop this technology to get an early lead.   Although there are some hurdles, including precise quantum control and developing a friendly algorithm, this market has $35 billion in global investment as of 2022.

5G Technology

The latest 5G networks are the 5th generation of wireless cellular technology. With dramatically faster data speeds, improved reliability, and expanded bandwidth, 5G opens the door for a new era of connectivity and smooth use of applications.

Key features:

Peak data rates up to 20 Gbps- 100x times faster than 4GLTE.

Latencies could reach as low as 1 millisecond.

Enable real-time communication

Facilitate autonomous vehicles and smart city infrastructure.

Enhance AR/VR experience

Due to its incredible advantages, it’s expected to create $13 trillion in the global market by 2030 across industries. While the full 5G is still ongoing, it promises a hyper-connected future where wireless performance reaches up to the speed of light.

Write for us technology

If you have valuable insights to share on the latest technology trends, we welcome you to “write for us technology” and contribute to the ongoing evolution of the technology.

Conclusion

Whereas these latest technologies are snatching many jobs, on the other hand, they offer promising career opportunities, but on one condition: endless learning. These technologies transform every year and have a big impact on the world’s scenario, accelerating growth and opening many doors for innovation and progress. By staying informed and embracing new technology, you can position yourself for success. Don’t forget, if you have valuable insights to share, “write for me technology” and contribute to the tech community’s ongoing evolution.

[cozylittleartblog]

Columbo and the Knight (1984)

put me in the universe where Columbo ran through the 1980s and had a crossover episode with Knight Rider. I think they deserved it, and I am not just saying that because they're my two favorite Old Shows. @telebeast wrote a little fanfic blurb about it and I HAD to visualize it into a comic (which is also the longest comic I have finished thus far at five pages...), so writing credit goes to them.

Autism W!

[glittertomb]

I miss the world being tactile. I miss pushing buttons. I miss switching over to your favorite radio station in the car without having to look, I miss punching in a customer’s phone number without having to look, I miss sending a sneaky text without having to look, I miss turning on my morning alarms without having to look… I miss pressing physical buttons for cash amounts and knowing that you did it correctly because you felt the correct release under your fingertips. I miss the satisfying clinks of my grandmother's 80's typewriter. I miss the crunching of gear mechanisms beneath the pads of my flesh. I miss the tick-tick-tick sensation. I don't want to touch and retouch a surface covered with the visible smears of thousands of fingerprints. I don't want to talk to my T.V. remote. I don't want a keypad to rise up as a smooth, steely reminder that our tools are losing the human feeling of texture, grit, and raw material. If I have to touch another screen I might die.

[fanged-fanfics]

☆ Back From The Waves — Shanks x GN Reader Fic ☆

Genre: Fluff || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

You were in your small home by the shore of the town you lived in, working on drafting another letter. Shanks and the Red Haired Pirates had been out to sea for about a month or two, and you'd been trying to write to him as much as possible. Sure calling was technically an option, but there was something classically romantic about a handwritten letter. Not much had happened this week, so you were trying to think of what to fill the page with. You wanted him to know how much you missed him, but would it be too much to start spilling poetry? ...Yeah, probably, you figured. The quill you held tapped on the parchment, ink forming a small spot on the paper. Before you could try to write another line, you saw something out your window. Out on the shore, a ship was heading in.

You dropped your quill, recognizing the symbol on their flag immediately. You swiped your parchment away, standing up and bolting to the door. You slid your shoes on before making it onto the beach, trying to avoid the hot sand that had been baking in the sun. You had to be a little careful since sand is very slippery and hard to run on, but by the time you made it, the ship had docked, and some of the crew members were stepping off. The second you saw the black jacket with a high pointed collar that you knew so well, you felt your heart feel light. "Shanks!" you called out, sprinting towards him. The captain turned around, giving you a smile that grew when seeing you coming. "Wait, wait, honey, I've got a-" he began, but was cut off by your momentum when you grabbed him in a huge hug.

Shanks let out a deep grunt, and you pulled back almost just as quickly as you'd latched on. "Oh-! Sorry, I just-" you cleared your throat "What were you going to say?". Shanks stood more upright, gesturing to the bandages around his abdomen "A cut" he said hoarsely "I got a cut". "Ah-! What happened!?" You asked, hands on his torso to try and inspect it. He chuckled, using the one hand he had to hold one of your wrists. He lifted it up, kissing the inside of your wrist "Don't worry about it, love, I'm fine. It should heal soon". "That didn't answer my question" you pointed out, and Shanks gave you a little grin "Just a run-in with an old foe, nothing I haven't had happen before"

"I wish you'd be more careful" you responded with a frown, and Shanks kissed the tip of your nose in reply "You worry so much. Take a break with me, why don't you?". "Why, so you can drink more?" You asked teasingly. Shanks gave a full laugh, wrapping his arm around you "You know me well. But, if you don't want that..." he trailed off, glancing at you. "How about we go back to my place first?" You asked, cupping his cheek "It's been a while since I've been able to talk to you". "Perfect then" Shanks said, leaning into your touch "Lead the way"

After some chatting with his crew, Shanks let you guide him to the home you both knew well. When he stepped inside, you helped him take his coat off so he could walk to the couch. He sat with a heavy flop, and you were quick to be by his side. He held you close with his arm, nuzzling his nose into the top of your head "Mmh... damn I missed you". "Me too" you said, gently wrapping your arms around his waist "I was just about to send you another letter". "You're so sweet, love" Shanks replied, hugging you a little tighter.

"Did you eat anything recently?" You asked him "It's just about dinner time, I can make us something if you'd like". "I haven't, but we can cook together in a minute" Shanks said, his forehead pressing against the back of your neck. He planted a small kiss there before resting his chin on your shoulder. "Fine, fine" you said, leaning back into his chest "Just five more minutes"

[icteridcorvid]

MSpaint train scribbles

[riddlemearose]

Linked Universe Combat Guide (part 1)

Lmao I have been casually sitting on this for like two months now and since I'm procrastinating writing an essay, I've decided to post it.

Anyway, this came from my bajillion notes about the Chain's equipment so I could have fight scenes that involved more than "he swings his sword" x9. I also wanted to identify all the weird weapons the Links would have too bc I know they exist. And since adhd is the shark disorder and I need to do something bc I stop moving I die, I've made my notes coherent enough to inflict upon tumblr.

General Notes:

In terms of additional weapons/equipment, I’m not including the traditional bombs/bow + arrows/boomerangs bc basically everyone has a variant of these. All I'm doing is looking at the possible items collected on the quests and being like "yeah I could probably work out a way to kill monsters with that".

Also they all have one-handed sword and shield proficiency, so I'm not including that for each Link. However any other canonical or possible weapon proficiencies will be listed.

7 out of 9 Links are predominantly lefties. Generally, left-handed swordfighters are used to fighting right-handed swordfighters, but the same is not true vice versa, so they will have an advantage against most human enemies. -> any ambidextrous fighters in the group is largely a headcanon but go nuts w/ it.

Researched to the best of my ability (limited only by search terms and my own waning hyperfixation), but pls be aware I literally only played my first Zelda game ever in February 2024 so there’s a lot I don’t know and games I haven’t played. Both parts are open to peer review and active fact checking lmao

Half of this is canonical abilities and half is presumed abilities based off of said canon + other logical conclusions. I'm doing this from a lore-accurate sense, rather than a straight pull from the LU comics, simply bc that allows for a broader analysis of what they're technically all capable of. I've tried my best to keep my personal headcanons out of this either way.

This part covers Four, Hyrule, Legend and Wind, whose games I have not played, so my apologies if anything is missing or incorrect.

Updated 9 March 2025 with new info provided by @thejolteonmastertj who's a literal godsend for their info about Legend and Hyrule's combat skills🙏, and @respheal who added on and emphasised just how important Legend's spin attack is. I love you both <3

Updated again 2 May 2025 with info for everyone here provided by @interlink-au.

Four

I am actively making the argument that Four probably has knowledge about other fighting styles due to his trade as a black/weaponsmith. I do not have any specifics in mind bc I do not have the spoons for that deep-dive, but feel free to run with this however you want.

Sword techniques: -> spin attack + variants    -> great spin attack (repeated spins. interlink-au emphasises that it's very OP bc there's no dizziness/stamina involved so it can be spammed)    -> hurricane spin (same as above but temporarily induces dizziness) -> dash attack (requires pegasus boots) -> peril beam (only works when he's got 1 heart left) -> sword beam when at full hearts -> roll attack -> down thrust (requires Roc’s cape)

Obviously, Four's greatest strength is team combat w/ the Colours. By splitting, he's able to coordinate combat with easy tag-team attacks with a much lower risk of friendly fire compared to when fighting alongside members of the Chain. Group combat, quite obviously, is actually kinda hard bc it requires an increased amount of situational awareness that is often overridden by adrenaline. Thankfully, since Four and the Colours are literally the same person, this is mitigated by a LOT.

Seriously do not discount how Four's height is an advantage in combat. Being smaller/shorter means you have less body mass to speed up and slow down, so you have greater agility and speed. You're also harder to hit and better at close combat (short limbs take less time to block, attack, etc.)

Genuinely don't know if he's proficient in combat while on horseback. I've heard at least one of Four's games has an Epona, but I don't know if there's any mounted combat.

Additional Weapons/Equipment: -> power bracelets -> gust jar -> Cane of Pacci -> magnetic glove -> fire rod -> magic hammer (hammer is capable of producing shockwaves and causing earth tremors) -> pegasus boots -> Roc’s cape -> shovel (do not under any circumstances discount mundane weapons) -> slingshot

Hyrule

To start off, the most important thing to know about Hyrule is that he's a self-taught fighter.

No, seriously this is more important than you think but not for the reasons you may think. Self-taught fighters are scrappy as shit. Out of the entire Chain, Hyrule will be the first one to resort to fighting dirty. Have him clawing at people’s eyes, throwing dirt, and biting. When you grow up in a situation where survival is a thin line you don't want to cross, you’ll do anything to stay alive when you have to.

Spells*: -> Shield: reduces damage by half -> Jump: self-explanatory -> Life: recovers health -> Fairy: shapeshifts into a fairy -> Fire: shoots fireballs from the end of his sword. (an aside, but this scene from the comic may be a variant of Fire? Fact check again lmao) -> Reflect: reflects magic attacks and strengthens his shield to temporarily block some physical attacks and most magical attacks -> Spell: can turn most enemies into Bots -> Thunder: summons lightning *be aware Hyrule has a magic meter. I haven't included how it functions here because it cluttered this section up horribly, but here's a link to it.

Hyrule actually gained the ability to use magic in his second quest, so while he's probably well adapted to using it now and may default to using it when backed into a corner, he's still a capable swordsman without it. -> Update: while the spells I listed above came about in Hyrule's second quest, thejolteonmastertj points out that Hyrule is straight up slinging sword beams with the random sword he gets given at the start of his first adventure, and that it's an important technique for the game.

He can canonically use Jump to perform a down thrust (like Four's) and a jump thrust (think Mario hitting bricks lmao),but there are so many ways to utilise this spell. Someone should teach Hyrule the Helm Splitter.

Additional Weapons/Equipment: -> power bracelets -> hammer -> this will sound stupid but ladder (again, never underestimate weird and mundane weapons.) -> magic rod (w/ accompanying fire upgrade) -> magic recorder (used in-game for fast travel but thejolteonmastertj also says it summons a tornado and if you can't find a way to use that in combat, I'm going to eat my hat)

Legend

Legend gave me so much trouble, solely bc sir has too many games. Jesus Christ man.

I am once again happily arguing that due to Legend’s sheer experience, he probably has other weapon proficiencies outside of a one-handed sword + shield combo, but that’s entirely up to personal headcanons. -> update provided by interlink-au: Legend is capable of dual-wielding his sword and a magic rod/cane, a boomerang, a hook-shot, etc etc. He will also parry with his sword if he's charging a spin attack (and can hurt them by walking into them, unless they're also holding a sword which will mitigate the blow).

Sword techniques (provided by interlink-au): -> spin attack (see above) -> dash attack (needs pegasus boots) -> sword beam -> hurricane spin (drains magic and induces dizziness) -> great spin (separate to a spin attack. increases range of normal attacks)

Once again for the class lmao, Legend has the most questing experience. While his section may seem small bc I don't want to rehash stuff I've already said, it's entirely on-brand for him to have tweaked a lot of this. Headcanons abound.

Updating the above points: again provided by thejolteonmastertj, Legend's officially getting smacked with another label, and this is "Most OP Spin Attack". This has been pointed out to be a core aspect of combat for ALTTP (Legend's first adventure). directly quoting their reblog bc I can't summarise it any better than it's already been said: -> "Legend’s charged spin attack as reactive crowd control is foundational & central to his entire battle style. It’s extremely difficult to land a hit otherwise! You gotta either run, button mash to parry with ur back against a wall till something hits… … or you play it smart, watch everything in the room & plan your charged spins accordingly. Legend would be particularly adept at being outnumbered in an enclosed space. He can also throw pots, even shrubbery if he so desires, but well-timed spin-attacks are what truly carries him through his first few dungeons."

respheal also points out that some of Legend's enemies can only be damaged by the spin attack, making it a cruical technique that he's more than likely put time into developing more than the others may have.

interlink-au adds on to both of the above and mentions that, with the roc feather/cape, Legend is able to do a jumping spin attack.

Sword techinques (provided by interlink-au): -> spin attack (see above) -> dash attack (needs pegasus boots) -> sword beam -> hurricane spin (drains magic and induces dizziness) -> great spin (separate to a spin attack. increases range of normal attacks)

Can't believe I didn't mention Legend's own tactical prowess smh

interlink-au also has informed me that two of Legend's rings let him punch, so congratulations, he now probably knows some brawling/boxing techniques. The Expert Ring can let him punch so hard, he does the same amount of damage as he can do with the Noble Sword.

Additional Weapons/Equipment (Warning: brace yourself): -> literally the entire contents of his ring box. I'm not listing them. I don't even know what's in it, nor do I want to at this point. A link to the Everything in his ring box can be found here -> power bracelets/power glove/titan’s mitt -> hammer(s) -> pegasus boots -> Cane of Byrna -> Cane of Somaria -> hookshots -> switch hook(quoting interlink-au: "swaps you for whatever you hit it with, objects and enemies, which you can use to cross gaps.") -> long hook (upgraded version of the switch hook) -> seed shooter (+ ember seeds, scent seeds, mystery seeds, gale seeds, & pegasus seeds) -> hyper slingshot (interlink-au says it can shoot 3 mysterious seeds at a time, which have different elemental effects). -> fire rod -> ice rod -> Rod of Seasons -> tornado rod -> sand rod -> Bombos medallion -> Ether Medallion -> Quake medallion -> magic powder -> shovel -> super net -> alternative tunics (attack or defensive enhancements) -> red shield (fire defence) -> Roc’s feather & cape -> mermaid suit (allows Legend to use items underwater) -> magnetic gloves -> super lantern (I've discovered this is as strong as Legend's second Master Sword upgrade in ALBW) -> magic cape (makes Legend invincible)

Breaking my own rules to list a few of Legend's 5 boomerangs, as they all have different abilities (info provided by interlink-au) 1. Magical boomerang -> can be controlled with his mind. 2. Magic boomerang (different object) -> further range 3. Nice boomerang -> sends out three boomerangs for the price of one

Wind

Arguably has the best balance and proprioception of the group, which is extremely useful in many situations.

Once again, do not be afraid to use Wind’s height to his advantage. He has a slight detriment bc he’s still getting taller and going through puberty does screw up your proprioception, but I think if you’re using a sword that much, both against enemies and in sparring matches, he's probably still got a decent sense of his own balance and body.

Updated info provided by interlink-au: Wind has a great spin/hurricane attack, which does induce dizziness and use magic.

I genuinely don’t know how the Phantom Sword works, sorry. I know it has some potential to slow time, but I’m not entirely sure about the mechanics behind that, nor if it’s still capable of such magic. From interlink-au: apparently the Phantom Sword currently doesn't work bc it doesn't have any magic leftover. There may be a comic out there made by Jojo that features Time and Wind talking about the sword, so if anyone knows of it, pls let me know.

Wind’s Parry Attack:   Hmm this thing. It’s interesting. Note: no actual parrying with a shield is needed, which means it's kinda like BOTW's perfect dodge mechanic. -> Wind’s parry attack is like the Helm Splitter and Back Slice combined into one. If the attack is vertical, he does a Back Slice-esque attack. If the attack is horizontal, it’s a Helm Splitter. -> Additionally he has an ending blow like Twilight and Sky, which has a specific trigger.

Mild note from interlink-au: Wind can use three different items at the same time, unlike the others who generally use two, and he's very quick when he uses said items. Topically, I keep forgetting that Wind has magic which he uses to empower some of his arrows with fire or ice.

Additional Weapons/Equipment: -> power bracelets -> deku leaf (requires magic to be used) -> skull hammer -> grappling hook (!!!!! any rope dart combat video would make this brutal) -> shovel -> hookshot -> Wind’s weird magic armour spell -> Hyoi pears if you feel like world-building

Part 2: Sky, Time, Twi, Wars and Wild

[claudaze]

⌗ 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑

마크 mark lee x reader ⋮ you didn’t mean to call him. not after three years, not after everything you did. but your fingers trembled, your vision blurred, and instead of the agency’s emergency line, you dialed his number — the one you swore you forgot. mark lee picks up, and the line goes quiet. all that breathless silence between you crackles like a live wire. once, he was your partner — in missions and in bed, in blood and betrayal. you left him behind with a bullet in his leg and your name in his mouth. he never came after you. now? now that he knows you're still alive, hunted, and bleeding out on a dirty bathroom floor? oh, he’s coming. and when he finds you, it’s not to save you — it’s to ruin you. but.. who's he?

→ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 ━━━ mdni — suggestive, rough handling, semi-toxic power imbalance, manipulation, violence, weapon use ( guns / knives ), betrayal, heavy cursing, and reader & mark both have blood on their hands :// also, i feel like im missing a tw here because ts aint proofread yet, and tbh everything happens so fast lmao. i tried my best to explain everything yes. proceed with caution, and sorry if its all over the place lol !!!! read with care.

she was born to shadows. a daughter of informants. her mother dead by eight. her father dragged into an alley at ten. they didn’t even bother to clean up the mess — just left the blood to dry like paint against the concrete. she watched. she learned. she did not cry.

it started before the click. before the wrong number. before the dried blood and hotel silence. before mark lee ever whispered her name into the dark. it started in a city no one remembers. a place carved from ash and gunmetal, where children stopped being children the second their fathers died with secrets on their tongues.

by twelve, she was fluent in silence.

by fifteen, she was fluent in killing.

the syndicate took her in. not with open arms — no, they didn’t believe in softness. they believed in purpose. utility. obedience. she gave them all three. and in return, they gave her everything she’d need to disappear: new names. new passports. new reasons to keep her hands steady and her heart shut tight. she was efficient. untraceable. a ghost in red lipstick. a nightmare dressed in skin.

she didn't believe in love. not really. not until him. mark lee wasn’t supposed to be in the field. he was a comms guy. sharp. clean. too good for blood. the kind of man who should’ve stayed behind the glass — watching screens, not bodies drop. but command liked to shuffle the pieces. and sometimes, the pretty ones made the best bait.

he saw her first.

through the cracked lens of a surveillance drone. she was walking through an abandoned warehouse with a gun on her hip like it belonged there. like it was part of her. he knew, even before she looked up, even before she shot the camera dead: this wasn’t just another name on a file. this was something else.

when they finally met, it wasn’t clean.

she had a blade to his throat before he got her name. and all he could say — breathless, heart hammering, stupidly impressed — was:

“god, you’re beautiful.”

she should’ve killed him. instead, she let him live.

worse: she let him in.

they spent the next year in liminal spaces. safehouses. rooftops. after-hours bars with no names. always on the run, always hunting or hunted. and somewhere in the middle of it all, he made her laugh. just once. it was a sound she didn’t recognize at first. too warm. too soft. too alive.

mark gave her something she didn’t know she could have: choice. he let her be a person. let her touch joy with her fingers without fear of losing them. when he kissed her, it wasn’t desperate. it was real. and that’s why she had to leave.

because the second you believe you deserve happiness, that’s when they take it away. she knew the pattern. had watched it play out again and again. she wouldn’t give the world the pleasure of ripping him from her arms. so she left first. quiet. calculated. cruel. but oh, did it hurt.

mark’s world broke.

not with a bang. not with betrayal. but with the absence of her — the silence of it. the empty side of the bed. the unfinished sentence. the scent of her still clinging to his jacket. he searched for her, of course. hacked systems. called in favors. chased every ghost that looked remotely like her shadow. but she was gone. and worse, he never stopped loving her.

then came the call.

a number that shouldn’t exist anymore. a voice that belonged to every one of his dreams and nightmares. “it’s me,” she said. and like a storm, he came.

the motel reeked of blood and rain. she looked like a wound in human form. hollow-eyed. feral. beautiful in that unholy way she’d always been. “you look like shit,” she told him. “so do you.”

and then silence. but not for long. the bed groaned under the weight of their ghosts. she let him touch her like she was a memory. his hands were cruel — not from hate, but from how badly he’d missed her. fingers at her throat. mouth at her shoulder. she moaned when he bit her collarbone, not out of pain, but because it meant he still knew her. still wanted her ruined and raw.

“you left me,” he whispered against her ribs.

“i had to.”

“no, you chose to.”

he tore her shirt in half. dragged his palm between her thighs and growled at how wet she already was.

“you want me?”

a nod.

“say it.”

“i want you.”

“say it like you mean it.”

“fuck, mark, i want you — i need you.”

he didn’t ease in. he claimed. one thrust. then another. a rhythm as brutal as it was familiar. her nails raked down his back, her legs locked tight around his waist, and his name fell from her lips like it belonged there. every sound she made told him she was still his, no matter how far she’d run.

he made her come once with his fingers, twice with his mouth, and then a third time with nothing but a look — lips swollen, hair ruined, and that grin that only ever came out after he’d broken her open.

the morning came with a gun click. the kind that started wars.

“they’re close,” mark said, strapping a vest to his chest. “ten minutes, maybe less.” she sat up, neck sore, thighs aching, mouth dry. “then we run.” he paused.

“together?” she met his gaze. didn’t blink. “you think i came back just to leave again?” he smirked. something dark flickered in his eyes.

“you better not.” they left through the back, guns drawn, hearts unsteady. but behind them, a laser blinked red against the motel wall. mark’s breath came ragged. her hand was still slick in his. they hadn’t let go since the motel.

this was their reality. one that neither mark nor she had wanted, yet here they were, running for their lives through streets that had become their battleground. the distant hum of engines and the echo of boots pounding against concrete felt like an alarm blaring through the city’s quiet skin. they couldn’t stop. they couldn’t rest.

every corner they turned was another gamble, another test of how far they could push the limits of their bodies and instincts. mark’s breath was labored as he pulled her along, never letting go of her hand, never once slowing down. her heart was racing — panic blending with something more primal. she knew they couldn’t outrun the past forever.

but that’s what they’d been doing, wasn’t it?

the past had come crashing down on them when they least expected it. when everything seemed to be quiet, when they thought they’d made it out clean, it found them. and now, their blood was on the line. there was nowhere to hide, no escape route they hadn’t already burned.

“i can’t keep running forever,” she muttered, glancing over her shoulder. she didn’t want to, but the tension gnawing at her was unbearable. every street felt like a dead end.

mark’s jaw clenched, but there was no softness in his gaze. “we don’t have a choice.”

they ducked down an alley, trying to catch their breath. but just as she was about to ask him what their next move was, a sharp crack split the air. the sound of a sniper’s bullet slicing through the air was unmistakable. shit.

“down!” mark shouted, grabbing her by the waist and throwing her to the ground. the shot missed, but it was close. too close.

they scrambled to their feet, but mark was already scanning their surroundings. the cold, calculating look in his eyes told her everything she needed to know. they were cornered. and the person who had been hunting them for days was getting closer.

the sniper wasn’t the real danger, though. no. it was the man who stood in the shadows, behind all of this — the man who had never truly been out of their lives. he was watching. always had been.

her stomach dropped as she realized just who the sniper’s target was. they weren’t just running from enemies — they were running from the past, from someone who had once been their brother.

the tension thickened, and then — there he was. a figure stepping out of the darkness. tall, imposing, with a grin that sent a chill down her spine.

“long time, no see,” his voice was smooth, yet taunting. familiar. but the familiarity didn’t bring comfort. it brought dread.

mark froze. his entire posture stiffened. “no,” he whispered, his voice trembling with disbelief. “you—you’re supposed to be—”

“gone?” the figure chuckled darkly. “yeah. that was the idea.”

her eyes narrowed, heart hammering against her ribs. she knew this face. she had known it, once upon a time, in a life that seemed so far away. but it was still here, like a shadow lingering at the edge of her thoughts, creeping in when she least expected it.

and then, that feeling — jealousy, envy, whatever it was, twisted in her gut. she knew why he was here. she knew what he wanted.

the man, the traitor who had turned his back on them without a second thought, now stood in front of them like nothing had ever happened. he was the same, but not. there was something colder in his eyes now, something sharper, more dangerous.

“mark,” the man — haechan — murmured, almost like a warning. “it’s not just business anymore. this is personal.”

mark’s grip on his gun tightened. he wanted to move, wanted to act, but something was holding him back — her. she was shaking her head, unable to comprehend what was unfolding right in front of them.

“this is insane,” she thought, her chest tight with panic. why is he here? after everything — he’s still here?

mark looked as if he was about to speak, but the words didn’t come. she could feel his heart racing beside her, his tension mirroring her own. the man who had been their friend, their brother... no, the one who had become something else, was standing in front of them, like nothing had ever happened.

she blinked, forcing herself to focus. we can’t die like this. not like this.

“you’re not the same,” mark finally said, his voice breaking through the silence like a whip. his fingers gripped his weapon, his gaze unwavering.

haechan tilted his head, a smirk forming at the corner of his lips. “you’re the one who’s changed. i’m just here to remind you of who you used to be.”

her breath hitched. who we used to be?

it hit her, the weight of his words. the man who had always been a part of their lives — the one who had always been so close, so familiar — was now the one hunting them down. it wasn’t just the business that had turned him. It was his obsession, his jealousy, his deep-rooted envy.

and she realized, just then, that the man standing in front of them wasn’t just after their lives. he was after something more. he wanted control. he wanted to prove that he could break them. he always had been able to break me, she thought, her chest aching. he’s still the one who can ruin us.

mark’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. “what do you want from us, haechan?”

the laughter that followed was low, cold. “everything.”

her pulse quickened, her mind racing with all the ways this could end — none of them good. none of them with a future. it was over.

she looked at mark, seeing the desperation in his eyes. she wanted to tell him something — anything — something to make him understand, but the words caught in her throat. how could she explain to him that the man they’d once known was long gone? he’s not the same, she thought, her hand shaking as she held on to mark. he’s just as broken as we are.

before she could process it any further, haechan’s hand moved, pulling out a gun, and the sound of the shot ringing in the air split the tension. she didn’t even realize she had pulled the trigger until the bullet had already found its target. but even that didn’t stop him. haechan only smiled.

“nice shot,” he said, the blood soaking through his shirt, but there was no sign of pain. “but that won’t save you.”

mark jerked her away, dragging her into the shadows. they were running again, but the footsteps behind them were growing louder. the sound of pursuit, the sound of death, was close.

we’re not going to make it.

mark pulled her behind a wall, his eyes scanning for an escape route. but she wasn’t looking at him. she was looking at the man who had ruined them. the man who had always been there, lurking in the shadows. he wasn’t the same. but neither were they.

and now we were all lost.

and then, there it was — the crack of gunfire again. but this time, it wasn’t mark who pulled the trigger. it was her. she hadn’t meant to. but it was instinct. the weight of the gun felt unfamiliar, but that same sharp instinct that had always been with her took over. she fired. but it wasn’t enough.

and then it all fell apart.

it was too late. a shot rang out. the tunnel filled with smoke. and in the chaos, she looked back — just once — and saw haechan staring at her like she was still seventeen, still his, still something worth breaking for.

[weepylucifer]

i watch people react to the lotr movies on youtube sometimes - just for my personal relaxation - and this one guy just said "maybe this is presumptuous but why can't they just make a new, even stronger ring that controls all the other ones plus the one ring?" and, holy shit. why don't they just keep making even stronger rings. apart from all the lore and storytelling reasons for why that's not possible under those specific circumstances, i wanna send a complete stranger the wikipedia article for "arms race" so so so fucking badly 😂

[pathological-runaway]

A voice calls to them from inside, and the Elder turns around. The bright room bathed in warm yellowish candlelight is somewhat painful to look at after the time spent gazing at the darkening skies, and the Elder feels uncomfortable with the table and the armchairs and the bookshelves filled with paper and paper and paper. It all seems pointless now, the goals and dreams of the past, and the priceless books stored in the room are suddenly superficial and vain. What does any of it matter, with a storm approaching? “I can see something terrible coming.”

you can read the fic here or below the cut

The wind rises, and the grass with a few scattered flowers in it bends to the ground, as if hoping the soil will protect it from the rage of the gusts. The sky is dark grey, overcast by clouds, and there is a chill in the air smelling like ozone and fresh leaves. For a split second, a bolt of lightning appears on the horizon only to fade away immediately. It is not raining here yet, but the storm must be close.

There is a pause during which only the blowing wind and the rustle of grass can be heard. Then, a low rumble of thunder roars in the distance, and the first drops of rain start to fall.

The Elder remains stood on the porch, brows furrowed and eyes fixed on the ominous black clouds. Their figure is small in the face of the oncoming storm, and the modest ornaments on their robes appear even bleaker now that no candles are there to illuminate them.

The Elder does not move, quietly observing the tempest while they still can. While it is still safe to do so. Nature has been toyed with a lot in the past decades — stars know when it will decide to strike back.

It is better not to tempt it.

A voice calls to them from inside, and the Elder turns around. The bright room bathed in warm yellowish candlelight is somewhat painful to look at after the time spent gazing at the darkening skies, and the Elder feels uncomfortable with the table and the armchairs and the bookshelves filled with paper and paper and paper. It all seems pointless now, the goals and dreams of the past, and the priceless books stored in the room are suddenly superficial and vain.

What does any of it matter, with a storm approaching?

“We should be quite safe here,” the voice from inside the room assures. It is soft but steady, even if lacking that pompous self-confident note that most would have when discussing nature. The Elder themself used to adopt it sometimes in the past. But things have changed since then, and so have they.

They enter the room reluctantly and close the door behind them. It becomes unexpectedly quiet, the crackling of candles and the muffled spatter of rain on the roof the only sounds here.

The Elder thinks they miss nature. The wildness of it. The danger inherent in it. The destruction that it brings, which does not scare them anymore, oh no. It used to. But now that they have seen human-made weapons end lives in a blink of an eye, the rainstorms seem almost harmless. They seem right.

Death by Nature’s wrath is much more welcome than the alternative. Perhaps, the downpour could wash away all the blood that has been spilled by the mankind.

It would almost seem more merciful now.

“I can see something terrible coming,” the Elder replies to a question that was never asked, shaking their head to make the thoughts go away. They have these ideas, sometimes, that are not really theirs, ideas the origin of which they cannot quite explain. Ones that inexplicably come true.

Some would call them visions. A gift from the god. Some would call the Elder a prophet, even. But the Elder themself would rather stay quiet, more times than not.

It is for the best.

Their interlocutor frowns, eyes not leaving the other’s even for a second. They understand. Of course they do. They have always understood — even when others did not. Even when people claimed they were being unreasonable. Mad. Old.

Because the Isle Elder is not old. They are ancient. The oldest being alive in the whole world. They have seen it all: all those diseases, all those disasters. All those deaths. All those lives. The beauty of the world. Its ugliness. They have seen where birds come from and where they fly, season after season, year after year. They have seen generations of people be born and grow old and die, and they themself have never wavered. They have stood there, on the top of the flower-peppered hill, and watched over everything and everyone.

They were every Elder’s mentor. Every commoner’s guide. Every child’s parent. They have always been there, have always assisted anyone in need. Have always known more than they let people see they knew. They have hidden things, waiting for the right moment to reveal them. They have done more for these lands — these people — than anyone has.

But people have forgotten. They always do, do they not?

People have forgotten, and now the Isle Elder is no longer an Elder. They are nobody’s teacher now. Nobody’s family. Nobody’s friend. Bereft of both their title and their role, they are bereft of love now, too. Have been for a while.

The Vault Elder is guilty of turning their back on them, once. When everyone else did. Not that this little detail excuses them in any way. But long enough has passed — enough blood has been spilled — for them to start thinking. Rethinking. For them to stop following the ones who made Daleth and what they stand for go forgotten. And they are sorry for not having done so earlier. For not having seen what was right. But then again, no one did. No one but Daleth.

And the fact that the Isle Elder (they are still an Elder in Lamed’s heart) is here now, despite their apprentice’s betrayal, only shows how much better Daleth is than all of them put together.

The Vault Elder knows there is not much time left. And they regret deeply that they have wasted so much of it drifting away when they could have tried to get closer. That they chose the path of cold when they knew there was one bathed in sunlight.

There is no turning back now.

“I am not a saint, you know,” the Isle Elder said to them sometime many long years ago. “I make mistakes, too.”

“You cannot blame yourself forever,” is what they say to Lamed now.

The latter takes a seat, slowly, quietly. It is so strange in here, in this deadly silence. A disaster may be approaching — is approaching — and they have no means of knowing when it comes. They are blinding themself, burying themself and their guest in this building as if it were a tomb.

It could turn out to be.

“I am not.”

Daleth’s grey eyes have a sad look in them, one that says do not lie to me. One that whispers I know you. One that murmurs barely audibly I hope I still do.

Thunder roars outside, the wind that rises making the candles flicker and go out. The room is illuminated by lightning for a split second before plunging into complete darkness. The Vault Elder can barely distinguish their mentor’s eyes, can barely subdue the fear rising in their chest and the images flooding their eyes.

The two sit there in silence as the storm rages on, neither of them bothering to move and light the candles.

“I can see something terrible coming,” Lamed’s lips quiver.

The Isle Elder gets ready to stand up when the roof collapses.

[boltlightning]

every so often i remember that indoor plumbing canonically exists in f.ourth wing and a.cotar and i simply must laugh. god forbid your characters are common denizens of a fantasy world and have to have human bodies that get dirty like the rest of us

[damiel-of-real]

by pure coincidence i finished the ref of my TVhead oc this morning, before the direct even started! nice coincidence

[bantersnatch]

I know you said ur on a writing hiatus til the end of S2, but every day I check ao3 for more vianca and yearn. No one does it quite like u, I fear.

Anyway, this is supposed to a compliment! Sorry if it doesn’t come across as such! I really enjoy your writing! I’m just needy like they need each other 😭

hello, anon! okay. so. here's the deal. when it comes to writing, i am incredibly stubborn. this means that if i fully commit to writing a fic, the fic gets written. this also means that if i've decided i'm taking a break, there is no amount of compliments or requests that will bring me back.

your options, therefore, are as follows:

reread what i have already posted (i like to think there are enough little details and subtleties sprinkled throughout my vip work that you'll find something new to enjoy while you're at it). leave comments as you go if you want to see my ego grow to an unsustainable and monstrous size. or...

your turn!!! write some vianca of your own, and see where that takes you. i'd certainly love to read your take on the dynamic.

[tyracaterinagrant]

elena rybakina after her quarter finals match at united cup 2025 (01.01.2025)

[myokk]

before it felt like a sin, ch. 1

pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

word count: 3000

summary: Eloise never wanted to be different.

And yet, her differences are what have defined her life up until this point: growing up as a squib in one of the most prominent wizarding families, being exiled to muggle society, and then attending Hogwarts at the age of sixteen.

She finds herself thrust into the life she should have been prepared for from birth but was denied. As she navigates this new life and her new precarious position in her family, she must come to terms with the fact that maybe what she dreamed of her whole life isn't turning out how she ever expected it would.

a/n: Hi everyone!! I decided to post this here too...I'm slowly going through everything I've written so far, and I want to post each chapter here as I edit them. I'm hoping that this can be a way to a) get back in to writing more, and b) get better at my art as I make full illustrations for each chapter. Let me know what you think!! :)

There is nothing quite as horrible as being a muggle, Eloise thought savagely as she ripped out yet another stitch in the landscape she was embroidering. At least, it was supposed to be a landscape. Maybe with her head tilted to the left and with her eyes almost closed so everything blurred together, it might resemble one. She did just that, trying her hardest to make out some recognizable shape and blast the stupid practice of manually pushing colored thread through a fabric in some sort of -

“And what is this, Miss Babbit?”

Eloise jumped at the sound and looked up at the scowling face of her teacher, and then quickly back down at the tangled thread in her lap. Behind her, she could hear the hushed giggles of the other girls in her class.

“Oh! Er…it’s -”

“How long have you been here?” the woman interrupted.

“One hour…I just -”

“Don’t be smart with me. I mean, at this institute.”

“Five years.” Eloise glared down at her embroidery as if it had personally offended her. It wasn’t like she was actively trying to be bad at everything, but she had the distinct disadvantage - how had it ever come to be that she would be at a disadvantage to muggles? - of not having spent a lifetime being prepared for muggle society and all that it entailed. The last five years had been a monotonous, endless cycle of lessons designed to turn her into the perfect lady: French (a waste of time as Eloise was already fluent), embroidery (a waste of time as the things she embroidered weren’t actually useful), dancing (a waste of time as she was already engaged to be married - why would she bother trying to woo another silly man?), and her most dreaded class of all: etiquette. No matter how many years had been spent trying to assimilate into muggle culture, her thoughts still got muddled when she tried to remember the steps to a dance, or how to properly address the son of a duke.

Did it really matter, anyways, what the other girls thought? She had pretended her whole life to be the daughter she thought her parents had wanted - now she was simply pretending that she hadn’t been thrown into the muggle world without a second thought. What was a bit more pretending - that she didn’t care? That she hadn’t been tossed aside without a second thought?

��Exactly. Five years. And yet, you have shown no progress whatsoever. This -” a finger jabbed accusingly at the embroidery - “is absolutely horrendous. If your parents hadn’t continued to make such a sizeable donation every year, I would have deemed you a lost cause and sent you packing when you first arrived. How your family ever managed your betrothal to the son of an earl is beyond me.”

Eloise grimaced at the mention of her fiance as her teacher clapped her hands together to get the attention of the class - a wholly unnecessary action due to the fact that it was already being given. “Class is dismissed. Please collect your belongings and put them in the correct place. Remember, as future wives and mothers, you must be organized in all aspects of your life. Many of you will be managing important households and the slightest misstep -“ a slight glance to Eloise out of the corner of her eye - “can cause the biggest of scandals.”

Eloise raced to gather her things and leave the classroom before everyone else. No matter how many years had been spent at the school, she couldn’t help but hate sitting through the classes amongst the judgmental stares and snide remarks. Although things had started out shaky at the finishing school - to be expected, really, when you’ve grown up in wizarding society and then are then forced to live as a muggle - it still stung that after all these years, she still hadn’t found a friendly face. She was treated as if she were a pariah: it was as if the other girls just knew that something was different about her. But…wasn’t that the great irony of it all? She wasn’t different than them. She was a filthy squib.

When she first arrived at the school, she was an anomaly. A twelve-year-old girl who didn’t know how to play the piano or who the queen was. It was clear to everyone that Eloise wasn’t the charity case of the school - her parents were obviously quite wealthy - and yet they seemingly wanted nothing to do with her. Whereas the others got regular letters and visits from their family, it was as if Eloise were an orphan. Nothing new to her of course, but to her peers this otherness aided them in her ostracization.

Upon entering her room, she was abruptly pulled out of her thoughts. Something wasn’t right. Everything seemed the same: a twin bed perfectly made opposite a small wardrobe, a plain wooden desk placed between them. The weak afternoon sunlight shone through the window, illuminating her desk. But…there.

That…

Placed on her bed, resting on the pillow, was a letter.

She never received letters.

Eloise shoved her embroidery under her bed and hungrily grabbed at it, pausing when she saw the address. Miss E. Babbit. The Third Bedroom on the Left… It seemed vaguely familiar to her in a way she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

As she read the letter, though, it became apparent to her exactly why this was. Although not exactly the same as the one her brother had received six years earlier, it quickly became apparent that this was a Hogwarts letter. For her. For Miss E. Babbit.

Hands shaking, she set the letter down on her desk and sat on the edge of her bed. She smoothed her hands over her skirt over and over, taking comfort in the familiar softness as she tried to even her breathing.

How was this possible? She had all but accepted the fact that she was a squib. The shame of her family, a dirty secret to be hidden away and never talked about or mentioned again. Her parents had suspected as much by the time she had turned seven without any signs of magic whatsoever manifesting around her - not even a basic transformation of brussel sprouts to sweets during dinner. It was ultimately confirmed, however, when her own Hogwarts acceptance letter never arrived. She had spent the whole year before her banishment daydreaming about her life at Hogwarts, still optimistic that there could be something magical inside of her. Her brother, Leo, came home every holiday with wonderful stories of his new friends and teachers, and the subjects he was learning at school. Even back then, at twelve years old, Eloise hadn’t been sure if he was actually hopeful she wasn’t a squib, or if he had been trying to prolong the fantasy for her before it all came crashing down.

Although she had had five years to come to terms with her new life, there was still a small part of her that hoped. A small “what if…”. She had tried time and time again to squash that tiny ray of optimism that would escape every so often, tried so very hard to cultivate a hard exterior that wouldn’t let any sort of vulnerability shine through. And that optimism was a vulnerability, after all. It was that vulnerability that had made it absolutely impossible for her to fit in the muggle world, and made it so that she didn’t really want to try.

Five years to come to terms with the fact that she needed a new purpose for her life and…

…not anymore?

Eloise grabbed the letter and greedily read through it again, drinking in all of the words. She paused at the end, thinking. Was this a forgery? Some sort of awful joke orchestrated by her brother? Leo had never been cruel to her in the past; in fact, he was the one who always encouraged her and was the most probable source of the small optimism that remained within her. However, she had no way of knowing how he had changed since she had last seen him. It had been, after all, five very long years. And not once had she heard from him, even though he had promised her through huge sobbing gulps that he would never abandon her. Maybe their parents had slowly poisoned him against her. It would be right on the nose for them, after all.

Looking at the envelope again, however…Third Bedroom on the Left…no. It was too specific. Nobody in her previous life had any reason to even want to contact her again, and nobody in her current life even knew what Hogwarts was, let alone have the ability to convincingly forge a letter just to have some fun at her expense.

A light, bubbly feeling began to spread throughout her body as it sunk in that this was real. She was going to Hogwarts. Soon, a - squinting at the letter again - a Professor Fig would be contacting her and giving her things to study. A huge grin slowly spread across her face and she hugged the letter to her chest as she fell back on her bed. She read through it again. Was it the fifth time already? It felt as though no amount of times rereading the letter would ever be enough.

Eloise got up and walked over to look at the calendar on her desk. She was surprised to see that September 1st was in only two days. The days at the finishing school moved in such a strange, sluggish way. They all felt the same. Monotonous. French and Latin and embroidery and household management and Merlin even knows what else all blending into each other in an endless parade of dusty classrooms and gossip and boredom.

The light feeling left her in an instant as, after years of practice, the optimism was squashed back down. But how will you even get to London? And, her brain added sneakily, you haven’t even shown any signs of magic. Maybe you’ll just be returned back here after they realize their mistake.

No, she thought fiercely, gripping the letter. Until -

A tapping came from the window. A tentative smile returned at the sight of a tawny brown owl with another envelope in its beak. She ripped it open as soon as it was in her hands (again addressed to Miss E. Babbit) and along with the letter a small, purple pouch fell out of the envelope and onto her bed.

Miss Eloise Babbit,

I am pleased to be the wizard charged with such an important task as escorting you to Hogwarts in two days’ time. It is something extraordinary to be accepted in your fifth-year, and as such, I expect extraordinary things from you. I have enclosed a small pouch along with this envelope, and in it are some items that will be vital to you in the upcoming days. I have included books for you to study at your leisure, and a small gobstone that will bring you to our rendezvous point in London. All you have to do is touch it at noon on the 1st and you will be transported instantly.

Your family has not been informed of your acceptance. I am sure you understand why - at this, Eloise scoffed quietly to herself - which is why I will personally be your escort.

I am looking forward to meeting you and bringing you to the sorting ceremony in two days’ time.

Yours,

Eleazar Fig

The handwriting was tiny and spidery and cramped, but it didn’t stop Eloise from reading it with the same vigor as the previous letter and as many times. Finally, she turned to the small pouch that had fallen onto her bed when she opened the second envelope. It must have had an invisible extension charm, because it was filled to the brim with books on basic spellwork and general wizarding history. Professor Fig had no way of knowing, but Eloise had already read many of these books and many more during the year her brother had started Hogwarts, as she had needed to know absolutely everything about what would be awaiting her. A few years may have passed since she had stepped foot in her family’s library, but she couldn’t get the books or their contents out of her brain even if she had wanted to. She had really wanted to forget everything she knew about the magical world when it was confirmed she was a squib but it was a futile effort. As she zoned out during her piano lessons, she would find herself mentally going through the movements to cast different charms.

It was painful to be thinking about things from the life that had been ripped away from her, to know that what she was thinking about would never come to pass, that she would never be able to wield magic - and yet she couldn’t find herself able to stop.

As Eloise picked out one of the books and settled into her armchair, a steely resolve overcame her.

She would prove that she deserved to be there, and was just as capable as any of they were. She would make her parents regret ever discarding her like she was nothing.

She was worthy. She was capable. And she would prove it.

The morning of September 1st dawned cold and rainy. Absolutely perfect.

Eloise had pretended to be sick the night before, and no one had suspected a thing when she stayed in bed long after all of the other girls had gotten ready and headed to breakfast. As the last of the chattering faded away down the hallway, Eloise finally got out of bed and prepared herself for the day. It was difficult to sit still long enough to braid her hair. Her fingers wouldn’t stop trembling and she had to restart countless times. Finally, she tied the black ribbon at the end into a neat bow and turned to the drawer of her desk to retrieve the small purple pouch she had hidden away.

Everything she deemed important enough to come along with her had already been placed inside: the books from Professor Fig, the hair ribbons gifted to her by her brother many years ago, and some clothing. Nothing else was coming with. She needed the fresh start. Besides, anything else she might need would be supplied, as her acceptance letter had specifically stated that any school supplies would be provided to her.

Waiting the hours before noon came along proved to be more difficult than Eloise had imagined. Time seemed to be moving slower than the molasses that had come with the breakfast sent up to her, the steady patter of the rain becoming a sort of metronome keeping time as she paced back and forth. Wasn’t there anything that could distract her, even for a bit? She glanced at the clock. Only five minutes had passed since the last time. 10.35.

The second hand ticking away in tandem with the sound of rain splashing against her window.

What if this was all a trick? What if she arrived at Hogwarts, and they turned her away because they realized they had made a mistake? After all, why would they admit a sixteen-year-old? Surely she was too old; every other student had started Hogwarts at the age of twelve and had shown signs of magic much earlier than that. She still hadn’t shown any signs of magical capability whatsoever, and didn’t feel any different than she had before receiving the letter. It had to be a fluke.

As her thoughts started veering into the melancholy she was prone to, she shook her head. No. Today was a happy, exciting day. She wasn’t going to squash the optimism down today, not when she needed it most. All of these thoughts she was having were simply that: thoughts. Not reality. Hogwarts never made a mistake, and in all of the history books she had read, she couldn’t recall an instance of someone being turned away at the door. Granted, she had also never heard of someone being admitted so late. But, better to focus on what she did know, which was that she had gotten the letter. It must be right in its assumption that she had magic.

Trying to pass the time was easier said than done. She ended up quizzing herself on all of the charms she had memorized in the books sent by Professor Fig, moving an imaginary wand in the precise movements needed to successfully cast and focusing on her pronunciation. She had studied all of these forms late into both nights she had had the books, and when she would eventually close her eyes to sleep, the wand movements were all she saw.

Eloise was determined that she would receive pity from nobody. Nobody was going to look at her like she was lacking. She had gotten enough of that to last a lifetime, and now that she was given this opportunity she wasn’t about to waste it.

When noon finally struck, Eloise was ready and waiting. She eagerly grabbed the gobstone that was sitting on her desk and felt the familiar tugging sensation in her navel as she was whisked away to London and the beginning of her new life.

next chapter

[mooifyourecows]

went out to mow my lawn before we have like 5 straight days of rain predicted but just mowed for 3 min before spotify decided to shit the bed and refuse to work, blaming my internet for the problem (and yet when i switched to youtube to check, it played a whole video with no issue hmmmm mysterious so strange hmmmm), and it just totally killed my already precarious mood so i guess i will lie down and cry a little instead

[no-light-left-on]

looking at the energy sources development in the dishonored trilogy just does something to me

first game with a boom in engineering, the whole world powered by whale oil, the destruction of the ecosystem combined with the rampaging plague, all this contrasted with the sudden crisis surrounding whale oil in the second game, with new alternatives coming into play and the focus city being powered by wind which, in combination with the silver mines, is actually harming the city (which is a really cool look at sustainable energies!! if everything isn't in balance it will cause harm and this is a really cool thing to include!!) and then lastly we enter doto with voltaic bolts that don't exactly seem like they are powered by whale oil, there is a hint of something new and different

idk it's just gnawing at my brain