President Loki, I know, it can be so easy to act un-Christian or just like a garbage human being, but I've decided there's no point in getting angry over it if it won't help (well it doesn't help to scream when you fall off a cliff, but you still do it ... nevermind, I'm off topic).

Tip for how I get over it, if I've got to deal with them anyway, I might as well have some fun with it. Words are the only weapons on this battlefield and you're an extremely skilled writer, so write till they put down the battering rams and give up.

You guys know that picture of Gene Wilder as Willy Wonka propping his head with his hand and looking smug, the meme face? Yeah that's how I feel talking to these people:

"Oh really? I have no life, you say? Please tell me more as you sit here giving childish insults to random strangers on the internet."

~CL1 is ... oh if only you could see how much I'm enjoying this...

I know I literally just said I was done talking, but-

No. You do not. And I repeat, do NOT. Talk to CL1 like that. You can swear at me, curse me out, insult me, tell me to commit, literally ANYTHING you want to do, but you do NOT speak like that to her.

I am very close to retaliating in an un-Christianlike manner. But before that happens:

CL1 is LOVED. She is CHERISHED, ADMIRED, and APPRECIATED. If not by anyone else, by ME. You’re only saying these things because you are NOT. You’re merely jealous of the amount of friends, even though online, she has. These insults you give wouldn’t just come to mind- they would come from somewhere in life you’ve seen them before. Which, I predict, is YOUR life, whoever you are.

“Who hits you harder.” “Loki is a fat***.” “Get a life.” “Slime ball.” “End your life.” I believe you’re pulling these out of things you’ve been told, my Fanfiction-deriving friend.

Oh, and if that paragraph CL1 so kindly posted to defend me was too long to read, how do you know who posted it?

These insults and weak words you’re spitting out in attempt to hurt me and others are a self-defense mechanism that sources from the weak shell of a body you live in. They’re a desperate attempt to lift yourself up, puff out your chest and make yourself look big, and give yourself confidence where you lack it.

Believe me when I say: hurting others is not the way to heal yourself.

- President Loki

Well, well, it seems we have some bored idiots with nothing better to do then cyber bully some innocent story writers.

Why do you people think we’re gonna listen to someone like you? We enjoy what we do and we do it in our free time. I think you have some issues at home you’re dealing with. I think you’re just trying to project your problems on us to make yourself feel better.

Don’t listen to them President Loki, I know you won’t seeing as you wrote that very inspiring post. Keep writing and ignore these idiots

-WhiteWinterTiger

Alright then, someone’s making a bunch of useless threats to CL1 and President Loki, why? If you’re one of those people who takes some sort of twisted joy in other peoples physical, mental or emotional pain, ok, maybe instead of taking your anger out on people just trying to have fun, just bully some jerk who actually deserves it, like I do. Want to threaten people, just play a bloody cruel trick on your friends. But personally, I think telling someone to commit suicide is too much, sure, i send death threats to my friends, but they know I don’t mean it.

Just lay off.

-anonymous

Oh, and I forgot this part:

You unsatisfied wingflea, you DO realize I don’t write fanfiction about ARK, right? If you want to try and insult me, do it properly, please.

Insult my hair (which Loki has AMAZING hair, might I add), or my ability to train dogs or something like that. Not, “Worthless nobody who’s bullied in school” and “OH NO HE’S FAT”. You think I care if I’m called fat by someone on the internet?

- President Loki

You know how I said there are people here who are depressed and have mental health issues? I'm not one of those people. Go on. Say what you want to say. I want to see how far this will go. There's only so much damage you can do from a screen

Let the games begin :D

~CL1 is amused

Did you actually send those President Loki, are you okay? Don't listen to whoever that is, there are lots of us who disagree and love your stories, I mean come on just look at what I posted in purple dye, that applies to all of us, and them saying you have no friends is a lie, we are all friends here, the people in this community are the only friends I have. So President Loki, if you are reading this, your stories are awesome, don't let them get you down, you are awesome

-A very angry and protective DoomPhoenix

Don’t mind the fact that I forgot the TITLE for four 2/2

Black Ghost

Five

What felt like years passed before Rough and Giant returned, and finally the odd silence was too great for Quiet to bear. But before she could turn around and wander back over to them, HE appeared.

The black wolf was standing there beside her, smiling at her with nothing but a dead look in his eyes. The more he appeared, the more he made her skin crawl. But the longer that time went on, the more he came. It was as if he didn’t even have to travel to her- he could just appear out of nowhere with no sign of his presence beforehand. And then he would be gone again. Gone like the wind. Gone like…

Oh, Quiet, he mouthed ominously, a grin lacing his face. He crawled closer to her so that he was only a mere few inches away, lowering himself so that he could be level with her. He truly was a huge wolf: bigger than any she had ever seen before. It made her envious in contrast to her small size. So good to see you. With a swish of air he pushed his face up so close to her’s that their whiskers touched, his pale eyes boring into her own. Don’t you agree?

Quiet swallowed, her eyes wide as she stared at him. Unable to mouth anything, she nodded after a moment, forcing her head to move. No, she thought in contrast to her response. But I’m not going to tell you that.

Backing up a few steps, she spun around and looked back towards where Giant and Rough were apparently taking their sweet time on burying Gentle. She stopped in her tracks, stiffening as she stared back towards the flowering tree.

A tall pile of dirt was scraped up alongside a hole dug into the ground. Gentle’s body was nowhere to be seen- presumably in the grave- and Giant and Rough were splayed out on the ground, their front halves drooping limply down into the hole. Quiet’s breath quickened as she stared at their motionless bodies, rushing over.

Blood was running out from underneath the two of her pack mates, sliding through the dirt and grass and running down into the open grave, spilling onto Gentle’s corpse that was beneath them. It was one of the most gruesome things that she had ever seen, and it sent the fur all along her back standing up with intensity.

Slowly turning to look back, she saw that the black wolf still standing there, watching her with a smile twisted across his face. And then when she blinked, he was gone.

Yay

Four (2/2)

Captain turned cold eyes on Quiet. She shrank beneath the looks that the pack gave her, feeling her paws tremble so hard that she feared she would collapse. Her shaking did nothing to help their accusing looks, but surely they wouldn’t think that it was her who had slaughtered Gentle? Why would she do such a thing? Gentle was purely the only one of her pack who generally tried to communicate with her. Why would anyone kill her? What did she do?

“Let’s bring her out of the camp,” Captain ordered, looking away from Quiet finally. “The smell will attract other scavengers if she stays here much longer.”

Soft looked towards Quiet, her eyes calculating as she stared at her niece. Both of Soft’s daughters, Elegant and Grace, eyed her disdainfully, as if Gentle’s death was purely her fault. Quiet knew that her cousins despised her, simply because of the fact that she couldn’t speak. It wasn’t fair. She couldn’t help her disability- she had been born with it. Believe me, if I could fix myself, I certainly would have by now.

“Quiet,” Captain announced suddenly, eyes snapping back to look at her. She winced at his words, simply because of the harsh way that he spat her name- as if it was a disease that was infecting his tongue. “Take Gentle’s corpse away from camp. Rough and Giant will accompany you.” He nodded to the two coyotes that he named, both of whom stepped forward. Within moments the three of them were padding through the eerie, moonlit trees, milky light cast from the stars turning the auburn-colored leaves an ominously fiery color. Quiet was at the front, padding with her shoulders drooping and her head low, while Rough and Giant carried Gentle’s corpse along behind her. She was too weak to even help with the job at hand- why had Captain sent her out like this? Was it some sort of punishment? What had she done?

After a while of trailing silence, Giant gruffly announced that underneath a tall, flowering tree would be a proper place to bury Gentle. Quiet moved to help scrape out a subsequent grave but Rough shooed her away, his and Giant’s large paws working to dig far faster than Quiet could have. Sighing, she turned her back to them and padded a bit of a way along the trail that they had just created, back in the direction of their camp. When she could just barely see her counterparts she sat with her back to them, breathing out through her nostrils and bowing her head, closing her eyes. What am I supposed to do now that Gentle is gone?

This is my Aggressive Jesus Story because I finished it around Christmas time =)

Black Ghost

Four (1/2)

Quiet was awakened from her sleep by an unsettling feeling that tickled her spine. She took a deep breath, noting that something about her mother’s scent- who was sleeping beside her- was off. She rolled over, yawning, to look over at Gentle. Her mother’s brown-furred back was to her daughter, and she lay so still that she appeared to be dead. Sitting up, Quiet crawled over to look down at her mother, only to find herself numbed to the point of feeling like a coyote made of ice.

Her mother stared blankly up at the ceiling, eyes foggy with the essence of death. A thin trickle of blood was visible, now dried but having before been slipping out from her mouth. Her throat was bitten into, but oddly: it looked almost as if her throat had been bitten from the inside, teeth ripping through the inside of her jugular and then piercing all the way to the outside world. The blood was dry around the wound, caking her fur. The smell of death was beginning to slowly weave its way into the air, but the smell of blood had already faded.

Quiet quickly backed out of the den, eyes wide in panic. She turned, stumbling through the dark clearing over to Soft’s den to wake her. Her silence made her seem suspicious: if only she could have screamed at the sight of her mother’s corpse. Then no one would suspect a thing, even when she truly was innocent.

Prodding her aunt in the ribs, Soft woke. Quiet hopped away from her the moment that she sat up, hoping that the fearful look in her eyes would be enough for her to follow her back to the den and see Gentle’s corpse. Soft squinted at her for a long moment, gaining wakefulness, before shaking off and looking over at her two slumbering daughters. “Quiet,” she whispered airily, “what are you doing up at this hour? Why did you have to wake me?”

She hoped that the amount of panic in her eyes would be enough to urge her aunt on and, spinning in a few frantic circles, she turned and rushed out towards her own den again. Thankfully, she heard footsteps behind her as Soft clambered from the dark depths of her warm den and out into the chilly night. Quiet wasted no time: she sprinted straight to her den and turned to wait for Soft, unable to face her mother’s corpse alone again.

Soft sighed and led the way inside, before erupting into a scream that Quiet felt reverberate through her skeletal system. Within a matter of moments the entirety of the pack was awake and sprinting towards her den, all while Soft darted out again. “What happened?” Soft shouted in Quiet’s face, and she shrank back in fear. The pack was closing in now, surrounding the aunt and niece duo in confusion. “What’s going on? What happened? What did Quiet do?” passed through hushed voices of the surrounding crowd. With ears laid back, Quiet mouthed I don’t know. Afraid. Her aunt appeared unsatisfied- or, honestly, she may not have even known what that meant- and turned away with a grunt, facing Captain, their pack’s leader. “Gentle is dead,” Soft informed him. “She’s got a few bite marks in her throat. Quiet came to get me. I don’t know what happened.”

Black Ghost

Seven

That night the pack refused to all split off and go to their own dens. Captain led them into the nursery, the largest sleeping place, and laid blocking the entrance so that no monster could get in. Together they laid, curling up, pressing into one another. It was cramped and uncomfortable. All of Quiet’s pack mates smelled of distress and the den still reeked of sickness from the pups. But at least it made her feel just a little bit safer.

After a long space of time, the pack was asleep, although their slumber was light and anxious. Quiet couldn’t help but stay awake, her head resting on Gruff’s back as she looked towards the entrance of the den, watching the dark space above Captain’s figure for any movement. Her eyelids drooped, sleep dragging at her muscles and begging to drag her down into slumber, but she knew that if she fell asleep her pack would be dead when she woke. But oh, how tantalizing sleep seemed. Perhaps only a few moments wouldn’t be… so… bad…

A whisk of movement snapped Quiet back into consciousness. Lifting her head, she peered into the cramped darkness of the nursery. Were one of her pack mates awake and guarding them? Poking her nose in that direction she sniffed, but couldn’t find any smells that notified her of consciousness from one of her pack members.

Quiet let out a breathy sigh, shifting the way that she was laying and looking over towards Captain again with sleepy eyes. That’s when the black wolf’s head appeared in the den entrance.

Black Ghost

Four (2/2)

“Let’s bring her out of the camp,” Captain ordered, looking away from Quiet finally. “The smell will attract other scavengers if she stays here much longer.”

Soft looked towards Quiet, her eyes calculating as she stared at her niece. Both of Soft’s daughters, Elegant and Grace, eyed her disdainfully, as if Gentle’s death was purely her fault. Quiet knew that her cousins despised her, simply because of the fact that she couldn’t speak. It wasn’t fair. She couldn’t help her disability- she had been born with it. Believe me, if I could fix myself, I certainly would have by now.

“Quiet,” Captain announced suddenly, eyes snapping back to look at her. She winced at his words, simply because of the harsh way that he spat her name- as if it was a disease that was infecting his tongue. “Take Gentle’s corpse away from camp. Rough and Giant will accompany you.” He nodded to the two coyotes that he named, both of whom stepped forward. Within moments the three of them were padding through the eerie, moonlit trees, milky light cast from the stars turning the auburn-colored leaves an ominously fiery color. Quiet was at the front, padding with her shoulders drooping and her head low, while Rough and Giant carried Gentle’s corpse along behind her. She was too weak to even help with the job at hand- why had Captain sent her out like this? Was it some sort of punishment? What had she done?

After a while of trailing silence, Giant gruffly announced that underneath a tall, flowering tree would be a proper place to bury Gentle. Quiet moved to help scrape out a subsequent grave but Rough shooed her away, his and Giant’s large paws working to dig far faster than Quiet could have. Sighing, she turned her back to them and padded a bit of a way along the trail that they had just created, back in the direction of their camp. When she could just barely see her counterparts she sat with her back to them, breathing out through her nostrils and bowing her head, closing her eyes. What am I supposed to do now that Gentle is gone?

If you guys want tips on how to keep your story awesome, just sit back for a week or two. Read others’ posts for some inspiration, and just think up craziness. By the end of the time you spend, you will have tons of ideas. Take me for example. I haven’t been writing for about a month or two now and I am so impatient because of the sweet ideas I got. Just trying to give a helpful tip. Also, dtg, agreed. Writing is getting a lot better and am enjoying it more and more.

#FF4L

- The Nazgûl