#Names I've never seen before get identified by shape

[pourquoiwhy]

I forgot my phone at work. But I always have a book on my libby app and at noon today I was reading Paladin's Strength by @tkingfisher and I was cry laughing and I was interrupted by people. I was really looking forward to reading it tonight. I have other books, for sure, but I wanted to know how the conversation under the wagon was going to end. The Saint Galen conversation was what was having me laugh in the cafeteria.

[sparrowlucero]

So what do we think Beebe's fish were then? I heard tell that the sailfin might have been a squid and that the angelfish was probably a comb jelly, but what about the giant dragonfish or the rainbow gar?

For those not in the know, in the 1930s, biologist William Beebe (who you (read: I) might know as the guy who predicted microraptor) and engineer Otis Barton (hollywood actor?? and designer of fucked up submarines and "jungle spaceships", ok otis) got into a fucked up submarine and went to the bottom of the ocean off the coast of bermuda (in what, iirc, was the first study of deep sea fish in their natural habitat), where he described several fish unknown to science. None of these fish have been identified since. (Side Note: to continue off of "audubon was unfamiliar with the bald eagle" in my last post, this one also has a theory I find a bit silly in "perhaps they just hallucinated fake fish from oxygen deprivation" despite both witnessing the same fish and a lot of his scary book about the dive that you can read here including many lucid observations of known species. It wasn't like he got down there and only saw weird fish and nothing else) The fish in order: Three-starred anglerfish, Abyssal Rainbow Gar, Pallid sailfin, Five-lined Constellation Fish

and yeah I do see why people think these might have been invertebrates mistakenly identified as fish. In his book, Beebe holds off on describing unfamiliar fish if he didn't see them well, but, you know, those little gars really do look like squid. I personally think the most likely one to be a real fish is the angler, since he saw it closely and was able to note several physiological differences in jaw structure that distinguished it from other angler fish.

The most notable one is the "Untouchable Bathysphere Fish", a giant 6 foot long dragonfish (largest known dragonfish is about 2 feet long):

Several minutes later, at 2100 feet, I had the most exciting experience of the whole dive. Two fish went very slowly by, not more than six or eight feet away, each of which was at least six feet in length. They were of the general shape of large barracudas, but with shorter jaws which were kept wide open all the time I watched them. A single line of strong lights, pale bluish, was strung down the body. The usual second line was quite absent. The eyes were very large, even for the great length of the fish. The undershot jaw was armed with numerous fangs which were illumined either by mucus or indirect internal lights. Vertical fins well back were one of the characters which placed it among the sea-dragons, Melanostomiatids, and were clearly seen when the fish passed through the beam. There were two long tentacles, hanging down from the body, each tipped with a pair of separate, luminous bodies, the upper reddish, the lower one blue. These twitched and jerked along beneath the fish, one undoubtedly arising from the chin, and the other far back near the tail. I could see neither the stem of the tentacles nor any paired fins, although both were certainly present. This is the fish I subsequently named Bathysphera intacta, the Untouchable Bathysphere Fish.

I believe this solely because it's really cool Though I want posit a theory I've never heard before: it's almost never remarked upon that he discovered these weird fish over a live (now lost media that no one is searching for, get on that) NBC radio broadcast. Maybe he just made up some cool sea monsters with a big climactic sea serpent for said broadcast, both because I would totally do that if it were me and also so he had a good excuse to sign off and get the fuck out of this situation:

[arminreindl]

The NEW Ultrastenos and its Ironic History

So those that have been keeping up with my posts on mekosuchines might recall the name Ultrastenos, as I've talked about this genus back in August of last year. If you've read that post you might also remember how I highlight at multiple points that a lot of the info was tentative on the basis that Ultrastenos was highly incomplete and that close relatives awaited description.

You may also remember "Baru" huberi, a small mekosuchine that lived roughly around the same time, clearly distinct from Baru yet at that point still unnamed. Oh, how I wished for the former to get more material and for the latter to recieve a proper genus assignment.

My now outdated reconstructions for "Baru" huberi (the small one in the left image) and Ultrastenos (right image)

And then the monkey's paw curled.

As it turns out....they are the same damn animal. Now, back when "Baru" huberi was described, Willis also named a bunch of other mekosuchines from the same locality (the White Hunter Site of the Riversleigh WHA) and described even more material that remained unnamed, including the White Hunter Cranial Form 1. Now, when Ultrastenos was named in 2016, the type material was from the Low Lion Site (also Riversleigh), but importantly, the skull tables identified as WHCF1 were also assigned to the genus (and were the basis for my reconstruction).

Well, re-examination has shown that the WHCF1 and the holotype of "Baru" huberi aren't just a single species.....THEY ARE A SINGLE INDIVIDUAL.

Given the fact that the assignment of the skull table to the Low Lion Ultrastenos material still holds up, this means that Ultrastenos willisi and "Baru" huberi are a single taxon. Which consequently requires some reshuffling of the names.

"Baru" huberi was named first, so the species name takes priority and continues being used. However, since it was never given a genus name, Ultrastenos does stay valid. Except now it's called Ultrastenos huberi, not Ultrastenos willisi. A name that has aged like milk. Back in 2016 it was proposed that Ultrastenos had a very narrow snout (thus the name), so now that we know that the rostrum was flat and mesorostrine, the name really is just wrong.

So next up, lets examine what went wrong.

As I said before, Ultrastenos was fragmentary, so that certainly played a big part in it. But the team in charge of describing the animal still cited several lines of thinking to support their interpretation, most of which are now thoroughly debunked.

As an example, the lower jaw was rather shallow, however while this was initially taken as evidence for longirostry, the 2024 paper states that this only an argument against altirostry (a deep skull), not against a more generalized condition. The teeth were also initially used as evidence, citing their homodont condition (the teeth looked uniform), HOWEVER, the problem in that was that there were only a few teeth present, all of which notably do not bear any resemblance to the needle-like teeth seen in other long-snouted taxa. Another important clue initially taken to mean longirostry was the orientation of the quadrate area and the seemingly sudden constriction of the lower jaw. But the quadrate area was not found in articulation and would support a generalized skull form if simply rotated a little, while the constriction of the mandible appears to at least be partially exaggerated by preservation.

Of course, the fact that we now have proper material of the snout makes the interpretation of a generalized skull shape a lot more solid.

Image 1: The left and right halves of the mandible of Ultrastenos compared to that of Baru iylwenpeny (D), note how the right half is a lot more straight. Image 2: The initial reconstruction of the quadrate area of Ultrastenos compared to one that is slightly rotated Image 3: The revamped skull reconstruction by Yates and Stein

The size of the animal does stay relatively unaffected by these new discoveries. "Baru" huberi has been estimated at only around 1.5 meters in length and my own scaling of Ultrastenos got up to 2 meters, which seems to be in line with what is still assumed for this animal. So among aquatic mekosuchines, its still rather small.

There are however some interesting implications for mekosuchines at large. Now that we no longer have a longirostrine member of this family, one has to wonder, why is that? Well, there might be several reasons.

It could be that the types of environments that were present in Cenozoic Australia simply didn't support such animals. Even in the type description, its been noted that the Riversleigh isn't exactly known for its fish remains, leading to the idea that Ultrastenos might have gone for other small vertebrates like frogs. Hell, the ecology of Baru might suggest that the reason that this genus was so robust might tie to the fact that the local bodies of water just weren't deep enough to allow the typical crocodilian grab-and-drown tactic.

Competition might have been another factor. In environments that may have been more suitable for such morphology, mekosuchines might have been beaten to the punch by other types of crocodilians. Harpacochampsa for example, tho originally thought to be a mekosuchine, is now more often regarded as either an unrelated crocodile or a gharial and its very possible that it filling the nische of a longirostrine simply meant that mekosuchines didn't have the opportunity to expand into that space. Same goes for Gunggamarandu in the Pliocene and Pleistocene and Freshwater Crocodiles from the Pleistocene onwards. (Tho it should be noted that both Harpacochampsa and Gunggamarandu are so fragmentary that their snout shape is technically unknown).

Images: Gunggamarandu (Eleanor Pease), Harpacochampsa (ArtbyJRC) and Freshies (Antoni Camozzato) might have been key factors in why mekosuchines never evolved slender snouts.

Finally, its also possible that something in the growth of mekosuchines simply prevents them from evolving longirostrine skulls, which Yates and Stein liken to alligatoroids (notably the closest alligatoroids got to traditional longirostry as seen in gharials is the Rio Apaporis Caiman, and even that one is closer to some extant crocodiles in its morphology).

Whatever the case, I for one mourn the loss of our long-snouted Ultrastenos. Tho as a note for any paleoartists, there is not a single illustration of this new interpretation since nobody ever drew "Baru" huberi either. Wink wink nudge nudge

Links:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ultrasteno

Ultrastenos revised (palaeo-electronica.org)

[synergysilhouette]

Reimagining a Disney musical about "The Snow Queen"

I know what you're thinking, and you're NOT seeing double; I've already done rewrites for "Frozen" and "Frozen 2," but for this post, I'm gonna do my own idea for a Disney musical based on the Snow Queen. I did let some aspects of the film (both concept and official) inspire me, as well as the Christmas special--which felt unnecessary, but I guess not if I'm using it! Lemme know your thoughts. (Note: I do like the idea of this happening in a Northern European country like "Frozen." It's one of the few times we get a specific region in their Euopean-inspired fantasy realms. I haven't really nailed down where, but I just used Danish names here. Have NOT nailed down a time period, though; I'm thinking 16th or 17th century, in contrast to the 19th century of "Frozen.")

Plot

"Every December, wicked is heralded in by the wicked Snow Queen, bringing fear and danger in place of a joyous time for Christmas. However, when Clara decides to challenge the Snow Queen to thaw her Frozen heart, she has one year to save her kingdom from becoming her new ice palace."

Principal Characters

Clara--Intelligent, calm, and (somewhat) practical, Princess Clara is the crown princess of Rensdyr, standing out easily with her red hair and warm color tones (usually greens and reds, but other colors too), usually with floral patterns, and always keeps a rose somewhere on her person. Raised by her kindly grandfather, the studious princess craves adventure and excitement from her otherwise mundane duties. Close to Christmas, the Snow Queen--who has gone unseen for so long, they believed she was simply a myth, a relic of a bygone era, believing the harsh snow was normal--appears in the throne room, insulted by the largest, warmest holiday celebration she has ever seen. For this insolence, she curses the kingdom to eternal winter. Clara, not one to take an insult lightly, ventures to find the Snow Queen and make her reverse the curse, with only a mouse and a nutcracker given to her by her grandfather (who becomes ill and wants her to remember him by giving her his "good luck charm") as protection. She is, unsurprisingly, unable to defeat the Snow Queen physically, but instead of being killed, the Snow Queen offers her a deal: if Clara can find the Snow Queen's frozen heart somewhere in the land within a year, she will leave the kingdom and never return. However, if Clara fails, she will be but the first ice sculpture in the Snow Queen's new palace--AKA Clara's palace that she plans to take over. Clara knows she cannot trust the Snow Queen entirely, but she learns that this is simply a battle of the mind: she must simply outwit winter herself. Of course, she doesn't immediately realize that it's not the mind she needs to think with...(Note: whenever she enters the Snow Palace, her clothes are influenced by the Northern lights, so blues, whites, and vibrant rainbow colors are her new identifier.)

Kai--The knight in shining ice, one of the few humans inside the Snow Queen's domain. While she tells Clara that Kai is meant to protect her for a year and "verify" if she has found her heart and return it to her, she secretly instructs Kai to find "it" before Clara. He originally is portrayed as stoic and of few words, not a large help to Clara. When they find a beautiful ice crystal the size of his hand, Clara accidentally trips and falls into him. As she cries from a twisted ankle, the tears fall onto the crystal and his chest, revealing that for centuries, whenever the Snow Queen froze someone, their heart escaped their body and took the form of a peculiar piece of ice. They can only be captured during the winter; otherwise they melt and turn into puddles of water that the ground refuses to absorb. Upon having his heart restored, Kai finds that he still has an affinity toice, being able to refine and change it's shape--a sign of him still belonging to the Snow Queen. He becomes much more friendly while keeping his confidence and maturity, and quickly falls for Clara over the year that they search for the Snow Queen's heart--though he can't help recall what exactly "it" was that the Snow Queen wanted her to find first...

I'm kinda thinking he's very similar to the Beast when he's an ice knight, while becoming more like Phoebus once he's thawed.

The Snow Queen--A sadistic woman worshiped as a goddess due to her longevity and power, she encases the land in ice and snow, delighting in the misery of others. She's a cross between Maleficent and Cruella de Vil in terms of personality--and in clothes; while she does wear fabrics like silk, she loves the decadence of fur, particularly from animals who disappoint her. Her skin is a beautiful blueish-white, while her eyes are a bright blue, and her hair is whiter than snow. When Clara dares to stand up against her, the Snow Queen vows to break her spirit before turning her into an ice sculpture for her amusement and take over the kingdom. When she instructs Kai to find "it," she is actually not referring to her heart--which she never lost, but it is still frozen solid, making it impossible to feel positive emotions--but to the "Heart of Winter," a primordial being that once gifted her powers over ice and snow when she was a freezing girl in poverty selling matches in another kingdom. A neutral figure, if Clara managed to sway it, it would never visit the kingdom again, forcing the Snow Queen to either flee or stay powerless in the kingdom, which is not an option. When Clara does (by accident) encounter the HoW, the Snow Queen attempts to kill them both in order to keep her powers forever. She manages to freeze Clara, but , Clara's heart has grown over the journey, being more open to love and less cynical, allowing the warmth of her heart (and Kai's tears) to melt her and even the Snow Queen herself, who has lived so long that her body does not become a puddle, but a massive fjord. Her story inspires Clara to focus on the poverty when she returns home, as well as instructing a statue of the queen and the HoW so her story is never forgotten. It is revealed that her name is Anika.

The Heart of Winter--I was gonna make it look like Santa Claus, but I think Clara's grandfather should look like that. In any case, the HoW is a shapeshifter and can appear in any form, usually wise and quiet, though it enjoys the form of humans (not as young as Jack Frost, but I wanted the visual), wolves, foxes, reindeer, and dragons the most. As a spirit, it is swayed by powerful acts of emotion: negative ones like the Snow Queen's inspire it to make harsh and freezing ice, while positive ones inspire it to make memories of joy and fun during Christmastime. Clara's warm heart, however, makes the environment inhospitable for it--not that it's bitter--and thus it leaves, never to return (at least for a few centuries).

Music

I'd still want the Lopez-Anderson team to make this, and if not them, Stephen Schwartz (and maybe Alan Menken). Again, I suck at song titles.

Early in the morning--I kept having "Carol of the Bells" and "4 in the Morning" in my head when I imagined this song. Weird combination I know, but it's mainly an introduction to the kingdom, as well as Clara's life.

My Way--The Snow Queen and Clara make a bet: she must search the land for the Snow Queen's heart, and over the course of a year, the winter will become harsher until every creature on it is frozen.

Ice in my veins--The Snow Queen sings this while Clara searches desperately for her heart, laughing at the ridiculousness of the heart to make you do stupid and reckless decisions, mockingly asking if it's just her who finds it astounding.

Heartache--Kai sings this as he regains his feelings, noting how strange it is to feel again,and how he doesn't remember who he was before becoming the Snow Queen's servant, but vows to find out and free the others once everything is over.

Desperately Yours--The Snow Queen reflects on how Clara has figured out the secret to thawing out hearts, and questions if she's now more dangerous than she thought. She recalls vague feelings of love for others, but laments that it was not returned to her, and ponders how such a thing can cure hate. This is mainly a duet between Clara and Kai, but the Snow Queen intervenes at times.

My Way (Reprise)--Clara reflects on how cynical she's been, about how this whole thing was about her own ego, having glory and being right, when she hasn't stopped to appreciate those who have helped her along the way, and she realizes she loves Kai. She also reflects on how entitled the Snow Queen has become, and how bitter she is because of her tragic past.

Love Will Thaw--A soaring chorus number (I know they're usually saved for reprises, but they're underrated) where Kai and Clara and the other victims of the Snow Queen return to Rensdyr just in time to celebrate Christmas a year after the beginning of the film, but it's the perfect holiday to reconnect.

Lemme know your thoughts, questions, and concerns! I'm enjoying these "bare bones" rewrites just as much as the alterations.

[youngpettyqueen]

your julian and keiko post made me want more of them so can I get a 🎲 for them?

YES so happy to get this thank you for giving me an excuse to write them. they are on my BRAIN

you rolled... 30! a kiss to the palm of the hand. which I think is very fitting for these two hehe. went for something simple and cute for this one, hope you enjoy!!

"I can't believe I did that." Keiko huffs, trying not to wince as Julian inspects the cuts scored into her hand.

"Oh, don't beat yourself up, Keiko," Julian says, gently angling her hand to get a better look, "It could've happened to anybody! And these aren't bad, just a quick once-over with the good ol' dermal regenerator and you'll be fit as a fiddle." He assures her.

He's very sweet, but unfortunately for him, Keiko is determined to be annoyed about this. "Oh, sure, anybody could've made that mistake," She agrees, "But I'm not anybody! I'm a professional! And I should know the difference between a scarlet dawnbird and a scarlet dragonbite, so that things like this," She gestures at her wounded hand, "Don't happen."

It really was a rookie mistake. She'd spotted the signature red petals of what she thought was a scarlet dawnbird- a gorgeous flowering plant native to Bajor, with large bright red blooms that light up when the sun hits them just so- and she'd been thrilled because it would've been her first time spotting one in person. They're rare flowers, and have a very short blooming season. Well, in her excitement, she forgot to check the stems, which would've told her if they were dawnbirds, or dragonbites.

Dawnbirds have smooth, sturdy stems with large, velvety leaves. Dragonbites also have large, velvety leaves, which do a wonderful job of hiding the wicked sharp thorns that cover the entire length of the stem.

And Keiko went ahead and grabbed the stem so that she could show Julian the blossom in the sun. She only succeeded in slicing her hand into ribbons.

Julian gives her a smile. The one that says I know what you're doing. He's far too good at reading her. "Yes, how silly of me," He hums, "I forgot you, the great Keiko O'Brien, were immune to error. Do forgive me." He fishes out his dermal regenerator and gets to work, making quick work of healing her hand.

Keiko sighs. She knows she's being ridiculous. He doesn't need to tell her- she knows. "It's not that I'm immune to error," She says, her tone softening somewhat, "I should just be immune to... these kinds of mistakes. I know better than to just grab at plants before identifying them. I was just... excited." Like a happy little schoolgirl, she leaves out.

"Well, I can hardly fault you for that," Julian replies. He's got his doctor voice on- the one he uses to soothe a patient. She's seen him use it on all kinds, from Klingons nursing stab wounds to Molly with skinned knees. It's very soothing, settling her agitated mood, despite herself, "You said those dawnbirds are quite rare, yes? I'd be excited, too, in your shoes."

Keiko feels herself starting to smile. He makes it too easy. She shouldn't be surprised that he remembers her talking about them, he remembers almost everything, but it's still nice. "I wanted to show you," She admits, even though it makes her cheeks flush, "The dawnbirds get their name from the shape of their petals, and from the way they light up when the sun hits them. They glow, Julian- Nerys says they're like embers. And I've never seen one in person, so I thought..." She glances at her hand, healed now, the only sign of injury being the blood that's dried in the lines of her palm and fingers, "I thought it'd be nice if you got to see it, too."

Julian takes a moment to clean off her hand, scrubbing away any evidence that she'd ever been hurt. "That's very sweet," He tells her, his smile going warm and affectionate in that cute way it does, "That you wanted to share that moment with me, I mean. And here I thought I was the romantic one." There's a teasing lilt to his voice. His hands linger on hers.

"Well," Keiko puts on her best winning smile, bats her lashes, "I have my moments."

"That you do," Julian agrees with a chuckle. He checks her hand again and nods, satisfied, "There you are, Mrs. O'Brien. Good as new. Just one more thing." He says.

"Oh?" Keiko raises a brow, "I thought you said it only needed the dermal regenerator."

"A dermal regenerator is all well and good," Julian says, "But it's got nothing on..." And then he lifts her hand to his face, presses a kiss to her palm, "That," He gives her a grin, and lets her take her hand back, "How's it feel?"

Keiko blushes again. She can practically feel the shade of red she's going. She flexes her fingers experimentally, and as promised, her hand is good as new. "Feels just perfect." She tells him.

"Good," Julian pushes himself up, gives himself a quick dust-off, "Now, shall we head back before Miles sends out a search party?" He holds his hand out to her.

Keiko takes it. "Lead the way." She invites, letting him pull her to her feet. He doesn't let go of her hand, and she makes no move to drop his. His thumb brushes over her knuckles, and she leans into his side, bumping her shoulder against his.

Somewhere along the way, she forgets she was ever annoyed.

[rosetheex-editor]

[OOC: WARNING, THIS TRANSCRIPT IS ABOUT A SUICIDE. PROCEED BELOW THE CUT WITH CAUTION.]

[Video transcript begin.]

[The transcript begins from the front pocket of a shirt, as always, this time the person is running through the forest. Heavy breathing in the background, the software recognizes the breathing as belonging to Rose. She keeps running for a few minutes, until eventually shouting, her voice sounding desperate.]

Rose: Edgar! Edgar, where are you!?

[Rose continues screaming the man's name, running while doing so, the camera unfocuses as she turns her head over and over, her torso following suit, trying to find the man, but she still doesn't see him.]

R: don't be dead, please don't be dead!

[Rose falls to her knees but only for a moment, getting back up and running the metal of her crutches breaking the leaves under her. As she continues screaming it sounds as if she is about to cry, she once again shouts the man's name.]

R: Edgar! If you can hear me, say something! Please!

[There is no response, Rose keeps her pace, trees passing by as she runs. Rain is heard in the background as her footsteps and crutches make marks in the mud, she trips landing face first into a rose bush.]

R: Damnit! Edgar, where are you!?

[A sudden flash of lightning reveals a blurry silhouette somewhat closeby, nearly out of frame. The figure has their arm raised to their head, a small somewhat cubeish shape is held to their head. A gun. The other arm is slack, cut off a third of the way down the forearm.]

R: Fuck! Don’t do it! Stop! Edgar!

[Rose runs in the direction of the figure, a noticeable limp in her run as she holds the injured leg. Blood drips down her leg, as she keeps screaming to the figure to stop. Another flash of lightning, and she falls to one knee.]

R: Please stop! I don’t want to lose you too!

[The figure turns, and freezes in place, gun still held firmly in place.]

R: Please! Just put the damn gun down!

[Rose slowly stands up and begins running again, this time using a stick, tears are heard in her voice as she gets closer to the figure.]

R: Dad, just put it down!

?: Go back to the apartment.

[Voice identified: Edgar.]

R: No! I’m not losing you too!

[Rose gets closer, another flash of lightning causes her to jump but she continues on. Her crying is all but made silent by the rain, but she keeps going.]

R: Come on! We can go home and we can… I don’t know! Watch a movie! Anything other than this!

E: Just let me die, Rose! I can’t fucking take it anymore!

R: I'm not losing my dad again! I will help you! Or I’ll die trying!

[Edgar can be seen slightly clearer than before, his eyes are red from crying, and his jaw is clenched, hard.]

R: Just put it down and come on!

[Rose falls to her knees once again, the mud covering her hands and knees as she continues pleading with Edgar. The sound of thunder and rain surrounds them both as Rose struggles to stand again.]

R: Come on, please! You have people who care about you and want to help! Me! Kath! Stacy! Liam! Leon! Daff and Jenny! Don’t you care what this is doing?!

E: You don’t get it, Rose! I’m doing this for you guys! This is how it has to be! Go home, and let me pull the fucking trigger!

R: How does dying help us? I've already lost my family once, I don’t want to lose another! What about your promise! Hell, not even the one you made to everyone, but to me!? You promised to help me get my childhood back! How can I do that if my dad dies again!

E: I never should have made those fucking promises. This will keep you all safe, you’ll see within the fucking week of my damn funeral, Rose. You won’t need to worry about me getting hurt, you’ll finally be rid of me! You deserve to live life without me!

R: I never wanted to be rid of you, you asshole! I wanted you to stay alive, even if it meant I died! Because you’re my father, and you’re the only thing I FUCKING HAVE!

E: I– you– just– Rose, you weren’t supposed to–

[Edgar falls to his knees, the gun tumbling to the ground from his shaking hand, Edgar frantically reaches out to grab it. Rose lunges to pick it up before he can, he looks up at Rose with a devastated expression, his eyebrows creased inwards, eyes wide, mouth half open, he clenches his jaw again.]

R: Stop, please…

[The camera falls to the ground landing in a way it faces both Rose and Edgar, both are on their knees Rose's hair is covering her eyes as she moves her bangs to look at Edgar, her eyes almost as red as his from crying.]

R: let's just… go home… please.

E: Rose, I’m so fucking sorry.

R: it's ok. just… come on, let's go home.

E: No, Rose. I’m sorry.

R: i forgive you! i… what are you apologizing for?

E: This.

[Before Rose can respond, or even react, his hand jolts forward, snatching the gun from her hands and pressing it against his chest.]

[Loud noise detected: Confirmed noise… Gunshot.]

[Edgar shouts, the volume peaking within the software, and drops the gun immediately, quickly glancing between Rose and his torso. Smiling, his jaw once again clenched from the pain.]

R: i… it's… it's ok! i can… i can get you some help… you didn't mean to do that, right dad? it's just a… r- really bad joke…

E: I– I’m sorry.

R: Don't worry! i- i'll figure something out… i'll get you help!

[His hand trembles violently as he presses it to the wound, slowly lifting it up to observe the blood that now coats it. He leans backwards, barely able to keep himself propped up. His words halted and strained, speaking taking a lot of effort to achieve. Each pause filled by a cough or a groan, instead of silence.]

E: Rose, I– I think I only have a few– ugh, a few minutes left. Please don’t waste them.

R: I'm gonna help! i- i promised i would…

E: Don’t. I… I want to spend the last little bit I h– have left. With you. Just stay w– with me. Please. Don’t… leave.

R: i- i'm not going anywhere… i'm not leaving you too.

E: Thank you.

[His arm gives out, leaving him lying face up on the grass.]

R: here! i- I'll cover the wound!

[Rose attempts to cover the wound, her expression grows worried, as tears begin to form in her eyes once again. She moves over, putting one hand down on the open wound, the other propping up Edgar's head.]

R: Can I get you anything… a- anything at all?

E: I’m fine with– just you. Rose.

R: i… I can call for help? where the hell… w- where did my phone land?

[Edgar’s words begin to get quieter and shakier, he stares at Rose, and shakes his head.]

E: Rose, if– if I’d wanted h– help. I wouldn’t have been– been in the middle of the forest.

R: l- lord knows i've been in the middle of the forest… wanting help… A- a lot. So y'know.

E: I don’t want help, R– Rose, I want th– this. Please let– me say goodbye pr– properly.

[Rose moves her hair out of her face again, looking down at Edgar's near lifeless body, her arms shaking as she scrambles to find something to help him with. Eventually she stops, looking back at him with tears before putting her head down.]

R: I- I don't want to lose… Anyone else…

E: Rose, m– my dearest daughter. I– I didn’t want it to– end like this. It was– supposed to be f– fast, just one– second. But I’m glad you’re– here, even if it’s– awful. I– I… You were one of th– the brightest parts of my miserable life. Do– don’t let this– fuck anything up for you. I promised myself that I’d– put you first, always. And if I– I can keep o– one promise, it’ll be– that one. Live on, Rose.

[Edgar shudders, pushing himself hard to get his last three words out, knowing exactly what he wanted them to be in that moment.]

E: I love you.

R: I love you too… Dad…

[Edgar, having heard the words he wanted to hear most before the end of it all, smiles. It’s all he can manage at this point. His eyes stop jittering between Rose and the trees behind her, and all remaining tension loosens in his body. He’s gone.]

R: i– i-

[Rose begins shaking Edgar's lifeless body, trying to wake him up, it does nothing. This continues for a little over a minute before Rose finally speaks, tears heard in her voice, the sound of rain is the only other thing heard, no movement from Edgar in the slightest. He’s gone.]

R: o– okay. hey. dad. it isn’t funny anymore. y- you can wake up now. come on! j– jokes over! haha! Wake– Wake up dad. please wake up.

[She is still. Holding the dead body of her father, tears streaming down her face, her eyes like waterfalls. She screams as lightning strikes again, she looks at the sky and screams. No one is there to listen, but that is all she can do. She screams.]

R: Haven’t I lost enough? I've lost EVERYTHING! Do I have to lose more? I have nothing left! When… when can i live happily…

[Rose stops, unable to scream or cry, just sitting there, holding the corpse of her father. Her face has gone expressionless, the arm that was holding Edgar's wound is now slack at her right side. She begins trying to sing a song, a comfort, perhaps, but no words come out.]

R: i-

[The devastated 20 year old begins trying to sing again, it is nothing more than humming, that is all the poor girl can muster.]

[Rose stays there, refusing to leave despite the rain picking up, she clears her throat and tries singing one last time. The song is recognized as "Goodbye to Spring" although it is barely heard over all the rain. She embraces the body of her father tightly, still singing. The hug lasts until her phone ultimately dies.]

[End transcript.]

[corruption-exe]

bonjour

5. how long have you been using your current labels? 6. what made you realize your current labels fit you? 7. what made you pick your names? 11. do you like your flags? 15. favourite things about being lgbtq+? 28. any celebrity crushes? 29. any fictional crushes? 30. a trope you dislike about your identity?

bonne journée to you!

5- hmm; i'd say a few months? i'm very fluid with my labels so idk when I started labelling myself as agender and queer but if I dig hard enough through discord messages, i can pinpoint it.

6- well, it just came to me randomly ig. i thought that I've never really cared about what gender I was; only identifying as fem bc it was what I was told. as for queer, I just decided to stick to it bc I felt like pan felt like I was fitting myself into a box i wasn't shaped for

7- most of my names were picked long before my gender journey but riri is relatively new. riri bc it's a mix of my nickname (which my parents gave to me) and a mix of my own creation; kinda like myself, you get me?

11- i like that the agender flag is symmetrical all ways; upside down; in half; rotated; I just like symmetrical things. as for the queer flag, I like it bc it has multiple colors and can stretch to fit anyone

15- bonding with other queers!

28- haha no. i've thought the occasional celebrity was attractive but I think that if I ever had a crush, it would be someone I know and connect to really well; my chances of meeting celebs are very low so I doubt I've had celebrity crushes.

29- i've liked the way characters were written but I never allowed myself to get a crush on someone inaccessible.

30- (i'll go for queer with this one bc I've not seen any stereotypes for agender people) well, since queer is a fluid identity, ig it's the stereotypes that we should've been happy when we were cishet. "you're pining? why didn't you stay liking [gender] if you're feeling it?" not just that but labeling it as confusion. like, ma'am, sir, if I came out to you, I've realized what I like and I'm not confused. my identity is fluid but who/what I like doesn't.

again, take care of yourself and happy pride! <333

[entertainment]

Entertainment Spotlight: Tenika Davis, Jupiter's Legacy

Actress, model, and Taekwondo champion Tenika Davis stars as Petra Small in Netflix’s first original comic book series, Jupiter’s Legacy. Tenika began her career as one of the finalists on the first season of Canada’s Next Top Model before signing with Ford Models. She played a lead role in the indie hit, Jumping the Broom, with other credits including Wrong Turn 4: Bloody Beginnings, Degrassi: The Next Generation, Lost Girl, and Skins. Tenika lives in Ontario with her two cats, Maximillian and Symeon, and loves to travel, watch movies, read, study astrology, and paddle surf in her spare time.

How did you get into the mindset to play Petra Small? How do you stay in character?

Petra fights fiercely to protect the people she loves. That is something I was able to identify with. When I was growing up, all I wanted was to make my parents proud. I knew Fitz and Petra's family story all too well; as a child, my parents got divorced because of an extramarital affair. I remember thinking that their divorce was somehow my fault, and if I could do something to make them proud, it would bring my family back together. Petra is a classic overachiever. What drives her is the need for her father's love and approval. She wants a family and is able to find that dynamic through The Sampsons, who she considers family to her and Fitz.

Can you share a memory from the set of Jupiter’s Legacy that stands out to you?

During filming the big fight Supervillian fight scene, it was 3:30 am, and we had 30mins left after a 14 hour day, and only enough time for a few takes to get the shot. Everyone was feeling the pressure. I was the last person to go, and when they called action, I felt a fire erupt in me; I screamed and ran straight for the target throwing those punches as fast as I could. I broke through mental and physical limits that day and surprised myself with what I was capable of doing.

Your sun sign is Cancer. What's the truest meme you've ever seen about your sign?

They may forgive but never forget. Cancerians hold on to things forever.

What advice would you give to young Black talent looking to get their first break in the entertainment industry?

Everything is a process, and nothing great happens on your own. You will only be as great as your team and the people you surround yourself with. To make your dreams come true, it takes hard work, discipline, faith, and belief in yourself. These are the things that will keep you going in the face of adversity.

Without any spoilers, which of Petra Small’s scenes from Jupiter’s Legacy are you most excited for viewers to watch? Why?

There is a scene between Fitz and Petra at the Union of Justice. It's so touching because of the loving family dynamic. It's simple, a father seeing his daughter's struggle and saying exactly what she needs to hear to continue fighting. I think people will be affected by and see themselves in the beauty of that moment.

Which representation of the Black Experience helped shape you and your career?

Bishop TD Jakes was one of the first producers I worked with within my career. While filming Jumping the Broom, he gave the cast a few of his books. I didn't even know he was a pastor at the time. I read them all. I was so inspired by his story of how he built his church from scratch with no money. I knew that if he could do that, I could do the same thing with my career. He inspired me to never give up, keep pressing forward, and to this day is still one of my greatest mentors.

Can you give us a one-sentence modeling lesson or tip?

Think the thought, and your eyes will tell the story.

Do you know your moon and rising sign? Do those vibe with how you see yourself?

My moon sign is Aquarius; I enjoy spending time with myself, building my own future, and strive to become better with the power of my own will. I've always enjoyed setting my own standards and breaking through them. My rising sign is Pisces; there is a vulnerable child-like innocence and curiosity I've learned to love and appreciate about myself. It's true I can be and do most things I put my mind to. My mother actually named me 'Tenika' because she believed I would be a perfect 10.

What are you watching and/or listening to right now?

I'm a junkie for real-life success stories. Right now, I'm tuned into The Tony Robbins Podcast on Spotify. Not only is his story inspiring, but every person he has on the podcast has achieved excellence in their respective field. I've become obsessed with learning out how. Success leaves clues.

What’s next for you?

I want to learn every aspect of producing television & film and continue to learn how to use the medium to help create meaningful and impactful stories. As well as learn how to sword fight...

Thanks for taking the time, Tenika! Jupiter's Legacy is now streaming on Netflix. Photos courtesy of Netflix.

[fixyourwritinghabits]

Hi! Just wanted to get your opinion on something. I've always had trouble with pacing and looking to improve it and my friend gave some advice. He said a chapter should be a scene in the story's timeline, and no longer than 5k words. Would you say that's good advice to follow, and do you have any tidbits to help pacing?

I am going to be the bearer of bad news. Chapters are completely arbitrary in nature when it comes to storytelling. NOW, before everybody starts yelling, chapters do lend a hand in external structure and they can be a good indicator of pacing, but how they are used is entirely up to the individual author. Creating hard and fast chapter rules is not going to really help in this situation.

When we talk about pacing, we are talking about the flow of the story. Does this scene last too long, or not long enough? Is there a consistent rise in tension, or are your characters treading water for too long a time? Does the beginning take to long to, well, begin? Let's completely forget about chapters for now.

What is the main goal of each scene? Take a step back and summarize each scene in your project. What is the main goal of the scene? If you can't identify it, or have too many, you either have a scene that goes nowhere or a scene that needs to be split up into several scenes. For example:

Main Goal: Lisa discovers Ted is lying to her.

How Does It Happen? He said he was at the soccer game, but his wife told Lisa that Ted called and said he had to work overtime.

Importance to the Plot: Ted is not the prime suspect for murder.

How do you know if a scene is too long or too short? - Did we already establish what was needed only to spend two more pages on meaningless small talk? Are you taking a long time describing plot irrelevant details, like a room we never see again, or a one-time character who isn't even named? If a scene happens and nothing is accomplished - the main character learns nothing, goes nowhere, or reiterates a fight we've seen her think about a dozen times already - you'll need to rethink it.

Is a scene too slow or too fast? Fight scenes are action-packed and fast-paced. No need to describe the detailing of a henchmen's coat when it's pitch-black and your Main Character's being punched in the face. On the other hand, did you rush through a scene where a major clue is discovered through painstakingly searching a room? Slow down a bit, focus more on detail. If you bring the wrong energy to a scene, your pacing will be thrown off.

Other things to think about:

Vary your sentence lengths within paragraphs to help with better flow - the same types of sentences quickly make reading them boring. This requires focusing on each paragraph, but it is worth doing.

Let dialogue scenes focus mostly on dialogue - don't have your main character describe the distant mountains between spoken word unless those mountains are relevant to the conversation.

Don't pack your beginnings with backstory - chunk it up and reveal it throughout the novel when it becomes relevant.

Exposition is the main killer of pacing - explain things when they need to be explained, like when they are plot-relevant or needed for action.

Bring those chapters back to your advantage. Once you have a handle on your scenes and how they should flow, look at how you can shape your chapters to provide necessary time skips, cliffhangers, and narrative changes. Vary their lengths to the advantage of your story, not some pre-chosen page number.

[elriel-oblivion]

So it's been four days so here's part two 😁 Just wanted to say a huge thanks to everyone who read/liked/commented/reblogged the last part! It was such an amazing response, especially given it was my first time posting my writing here, so thanks for all the love you shared 🥰🥰

Heads up, this part is actually part one from Elain's pov. Initially I wanted to continue from where the last part left off in Elain's pov, but as I was writing the background, I realised I'd written too much to just skip when Az gets to the estate and cut straight into a continuation of part one, so I ended up rewriting the whole thing in her view. So there's no new elriel moments, but you'll get a lot of new stuff anyway 😅 I would've said you don't have to read this part to understand part three, but when I was rereading the later parts a few hours ago, I realised there's some stuff that alludes to things in this part, so I strongly recommend you don't skip this 😅😅

Also, wow, some of my fave paragraphs I've ever written are in this part 😁 Bonus points if you can find them; there are four I'm thinking of in particular 😉

Word count: ~ 3.1K. Lemme know if you'd like to be tagged/removed 😊 Next part up in two or three days 😊

AO3

Ashes from the Deep

Part II

__

It had been a pretty uneventful day as Elain worked through her new plant textbook. Feyre and Rhysand had decided to spend the weekend away at the mountain cabin, Cassian and Nesta were away doing things she wished not to think of, and Mor was at the Winter Court.

Amren had only been round in the mornings, probably to check Elain was still alive. She'd glance round the living room, examine some of those fine crystal glasses in the display cabinet and then leave. There was no difference today, though Elain always felt Amren's scrutiny upon her even when that muted silver gaze was directed elsewhere; perusing Rhys' wine collection had become a tired ruse.

So besides preparing and taking her meals with Nuala and Cerridwen, Elain had spent her afternoon with her book, making notes and copying drawings. The twins had gone off on some errands, so she'd wandered into the garden at some point to tend to her many plants, telling them how lovely they each were. The crocuses looked particularly stunning this autumn day, their pale violet colour breathing life into the shades beneath some of the trees.

With her book, she'd identified new weeds, digging into the soil to rip some pesky ones out. Sometimes she didn't want the help of a tool; sometimes she needed to feel those roots on her bare skin.

Harvesting the carrots and beetroot was also on the agenda today, along with seeding for some spectacular displays next year. She'd been collecting the seeds from some of her summer blooms, like those soft clouds of baby's breath, saving them to replant. These she sowed directly into ground she'd prepared days before, her fingers digging into the crumbly clumps of earth.

Autumn onions she'd plant tomorrow, perhaps. Feyre always remarked on how their strong taste complimented meats well, so Elain wanted to harvest some fresh for her sister for once. It'd take a few months of waiting, but there was little else better than picking out and eating food one had grown with their bare hands and the essential ingredients of love and care.

Setting her book on the patio table, Elain surveyed the garden. It was a good day's work. Plants watered and sown, weeds uprooted, and hands sweaty and soiled, Elain was proud of what she'd achieved today. There were no distractions, nothing to take her from the one thing she always found satisfaction in.

After a long shower, she found herself back in the garden with a cup of tea and a blanket. The sunset washed the sky in a blaze of red and orange glory before it yielded to the cool tones of twilight then night. Elain sat in silence, hands wrapped around her mug. How long would it be until someone's arms were wrapped around her, until she felt the warmth her sisters finally had?

Silly, these thoughts. Immortality stretched far ahead, there would be time to develop that companionship. Months and years were but a heartbeat in the life of a High Fae. She wouldn't even notice the years pass.

Or so everybody else kept saying.

With her tea finished, she perused the book of recipes she'd borrowed from Nuala. Some recipes jumped out, ingredients for which she'd been growing for a few months now. Pumpkin pie sounded especially delightful, the gourd having almost darkened and hardened to ripe quality just a couple days ago. They should be ready for harvest tomorrow.

A chill wind sent Elain inside to prepare and have her dinner in pleasant silence. Even her mind was quiet tonight. After washing her dishes, she stood by a bay window, fingers idly tapping the windowsill.

Faelights bobbed like tiny lamps, dotted through the garden. The full moon was now high in the sky, its ghostly glow illuminating the datura flowers she'd seeded half a year ago. She pulled on her blanket and went out again for a better look at those gorgeous blooms, the petals opening only at night.

Elain couldn't be happier she'd found seeds of a triple-flowered variety. They'd grown to produce large trumpets, three layers of petals ruffled against each other. Somehow she thought of her sisters as she crouched and stared at the flowers, each layer so similar, yet fighting for space and breath as it unfurled before another. It was only when they were all fully open that they could sigh along the night breeze as one, an ethereal song of togetherness, tinged with notes of poignancy, only heard by those with the will to look deeper.

The white petals were stained with velvet violet, a true vision in her garden. While the others had given her passing compliments on the flowers, Azriel had seemed stunned the first time he saw them, citing them his favourite of all the plants Elain had grown so far. Something about their shape and contrasting colours, he'd mentioned.

She smiled fondly at the memory, where his eyes sparkled as he reached for one of the soft petals.

Her hand lashed out to grab his wrist. 'Don't touch them; the leaves and stems are highly poisonous.'

His brows rose. 'You wouldn't think that at first sight. But they're beautiful, Elain. Truly magnificent,' he said, his smooth voice so low, a voice that was night given sound. And how befitting, as even those datura flowers seemed enraptured by his presence, one shy petal finally unfurling towards him.

She beamed at him. 'They like you. Flowers like it when you talk to and compliment them - but these ones haven't given me the same reaction as they have to you. I think they really like you, Azriel.'

His answering smile was heartbreakingly tender.

A few more seconds passed before she realised she still held his wrist. She silently let go.

It was a shame she'd have to dig out the datura shrub and move it inside for the winter; it did look magnificent in the moonlight.

The sky shifted past its midnight velvet, and still Elain crouched, admiring the flowers. She shivered in the night's chill. The stars above twinkled and glistened, cold and distant as ever, yet stunning - infinitely more striking than they'd ever been when she was human. A thousand different colours sparkled in that vast expanse, the moon a phosphorescent queen in the centre of her court.

The Night Court truly lived up to its name in the wee hours of the day. Its opulence never failed to mesmerise her; the enhanced Fae eyesight was at least one thing she was grateful for from this body.

Her eyelids became heavy and she yawned. Why was she still out here? It was late into the night; she should be in bed by now. But the night was so beautiful and it was so quiet and she wanted to appreciate it all just once. Just once without the expectations of others, without having to wear that miserable smile all the time.

Of course, it didn't look miserable, which is probably why almost nobody ever bothered to look deeper into Elain. She should be used to it by now, but it still felt - wrong. That most overlooked her so long as she wore a smile. That most didn't think her capable of feeling the utter bitterness and loneliness she had once seen so plain on her sisters' faces.

And in acknowledgement of her sisters' hardships, Elain didn't fault them for not looking, for not seeing her. To see past the thick blanket of darkness in one's own mind was a trial in itself. But it had been years since the war now. And still they didn't notice.

They didn't notice that Elain was being shredded from the inside out.

It was almost laughable. But not funny enough.

No, it was not funny that people still treated Elain like a child, that people wanted to keep Elain in some weird impasse of a stage between child and adult. She'd thought finally carrying out her duty and giving her hand in marriage would show everyone that she was growing up: Elain Archeron, middle born but first married. Of course it was still on her own terms, to a man whom she'd loved. A man who'd seen her through the rubble of her family's lives. But she'd overall hoped doing what was expected of her would be enough.

Clearly not. She didn't even know who she was any more. Did she ever? Everything she'd once yearned for, gone. That fragile human life would soon be just a speck on the horizon of her past.

She sighed. Rebuilding herself was going to take a long time.

But what would she have to do for people to see her, to listen to her? Throw a rage? Fall into a drunken stupor and break a few dozen bottles?

She definitely could, but those were not her. She was Elain Archeron. And so she would wait. Patience wasn't a bad thing at all; she saw it on the shadowsinger's face all the time, that tranquility and calmness she so wished to feel inside.

Azriel. Her heart softened as he entered her mind again, and she dug her fingers into the soil, if only to occupy her fidgety hands. As sure as the chaos of her visions these days, there was a mess of butterflies related to him she wasn't willing to show. Or understand.

Elain and the spymaster? Now that was laughable. Truly laughable. He was wise and patient, while she - well, everyone already thought her a child, and though he listened like no other around her, surely even he couldn't glimpse the adult she so desperately wanted everyone to see.

No, it was foolish to entertain the idea of a relationship with him. No matter how much he saw.

No matter that he was the first to see her since Graysen.

Elain exhaled. She stifled another yawn, smoothing out the soil, then brushed her hands clean. She wrapped the blanket closer around herself and stood. Twinkling stars and velvety darkness and -

There, a knot of shadows materialising at the far edge of the garden, collecting and swirling into a larger mass before Azriel himself stepped out and sagged against a tree. His shadows whirled and obscured him, a dark fire with him burning at the core.

Elain's voice left her throat before she even thought to call him and she ran over to his figure slumped in the dimness.

She couldn't help but say his name again as she neared. 'Azriel!'

Those beautiful hands fiddled with a Siphon, but he looked even worse up close. Fatigue dragged at his body, a second weight to all the muscle and armour he already had to carry. Sweat and dirt clung to him, his hair. At least the shadows were parting, swallowing each other and misting away as they often did around her. Perhaps she should ask someday why they did that. But not today, not when his breathing was so laboured.

She raised a hand - to do what, she had no idea. She couldn't just touch him right now. 'You don't look okay.'

Something else limned his features as he huffed a light laugh and said, 'I'm fine, don't worry.' His voice was raw, so starkly different to its usual icy smoothness. It was common for him to guard his emotions, but in his state, this kind of thinking was just unhealthy. What would it take for him to be honest with her?

'You don't have to pretend with me, Azriel,' she said, lowering her hand. She studied the ground, embarrassed that she'd come up to him. What could she even offer in her pathetic childlike state when he was so clearly affected by his mission right now?

His hand rose. Her heart faltered, she had to do something, and she blurted, 'Can I wash your hair, please?'

His eyes widened, his entire composure crumbling. It wasn't often that the shadowsinger looked startled, but Elain was far too shy to show that she quite liked the effect her question had on him.

'You want to wash my hair?'

His face was so exquisite, it hurt to look at it. His eyes would be even worse; it wouldn't be the first time she was rendered speechless by their kind gaze. A myriad of colours swirled in their glistening depths - gorgeous greens and brilliant browns, all so natural and rich, if only she could look at them long enough to find their matches in the garden around her. Though, his eyes were an entire spectrum of colour in their own right. How would she ever pick out each and every shade?

And if she somehow did have the courage to meet his eyes now, what would she see of herself in their reflection?

A lovesick puppy? A doe-eyed, fearful fawn?

No, she didn't want to know.

So she swallowed and focused on his hair. Perhaps this Fae eyesight was a curse, for even his hair was shockingly fascinating. Only flat black from a distance, the faelights bobbing about the trees highlighted layer upon layer of silky raven locks up close. His hair was so dark it seemed to absorb the surrounding light. Mud stained one side of his head, and it was an effort to keep her hands from brushing it away, so she said, 'I'm positive that's mud and you shouldn't sleep with that in your hair. It'll only take a few minutes.'

He ran a hand through his hair, clumps of dirt falling out.

'You've managed to get some on your face, too.' There were light specks of mud and blood across his face, a more noticeable patch along his cheekbone, thrown into sharper relief by the faelights and his own weariness. Was that a cut beneath the patch? And another on his temple?

She leashed her arms.

What had happened? He wore the signs of a fight, but why would he come here when he knew Elain was the only one home?

His eyes bored into her face, but she refused to meet them. He seemed to lean forward then, stumbling.

Ridiculous, absolutely ridiculous that he wouldn't even acknowledge he was in need. Azriel rarely stumbled. Any fatigue Elain had felt just a while ago was now burrowing down a little longer. Her voice was firm when she spoke. 'I'm washing your hair. It'll help relax you into falling asleep.'

His brows rose, but if Elain stood there one more moment she wouldn't have the courage to do anything for him. For herself - she could take care of someone else. She could do for Azriel what she hadn't done for Feyre all those years as a human.

And for Azriel, she could tend to the male who'd provided her with comfort and safety in this world of distress and danger.

So she pulled him along, clenching her jaw and refusing to look back. Her heart hammered in her chest but she continued, hand wrapped round his armoured arm. Her hand slid down to his wrist but just as she was about to replace her grip, he grabbed her other hand and pulled her into him.

The shadows instantly began to ensconce them, dozens of those cool tendrils twining like vines. The estate loomed huge before them, and Elain gripped Azriel's hand tighter. 

'My bathroom,' she said. Beneath the low whisper of those shadows, her blood thrummed, her heart so painfully obvious against her ribs now. It would be a wonder if the spymaster wasn't aware of it. Though she did hear another flutter above, right by her ear. But as expected, the shadows made quick work of their journey and she didn't have the chance to dwell on it further.

Now out of the comfort of Azriel's hold, Elain set down her blanket and made to grab a chair from her bedroom. His dark presence was so overwhelming that she exhaled lightly as she entered the room and took the chair. She dragged it to the sink, avoiding his gaze, and pulled a towel, soap and a large jug from the cupboard by the door.

As she settled the soap and jug on the sink, she dared a glance at him. He was still clad in full armour, those black scales gleaming like obsidian over his skin, his Siphons glistening jewels across his body. 'I think you'll have to collapse your armour for this,' she said.

He inclined his head and tapped a Siphon, those scales lashing back into each other with cruel elegance. They were a mirror of their master: cold, controlled and unyielding, forged from scintillating darkness. He was a night sky riddled with stars; light existed if only one bothered to look for it.

Azriel's great wings righted themselves as he stood straight, now looking smaller in just his black tunic and trousers. Something about him seemed vulnerable without the armour, so Elain breathed, 'It's beautiful, all of it.' The hulking armour, the classic simplicity of the tunic and trousers, and the male who wore them all.

He was just so wonderful, Azriel. An enigma that could see her own. Her heart clenched.

Azriel rustled his wings, colour blossoming on his cheeks.

Elain blinked and pulled the chair out a little. 'Please sit.' As he sunk down, she rested the towel on his shoulders, hovering her fingers above his forehead. Her body tensed and her fingers remained suspended. It was like a spark of tension flickered in the space between their skin, teasing her, tempting her, taunting her.

After all, she'd offered to wash his hair, an act that would certainly require touching. But why was she so hesitant? She'd touched him before - kissed his cheek, even. Although that had been in the heat of adrenaline, a mark of her gratitude where a simple thank you wouldn't suffice, not for risking his own life for hers.

This was - what was this?

She finally lowered her fingers through that tense spark, pushing his head back against the sink. It was exhilarating, this contact, but he lowered his wings, shifting on the seat. Elain moved into the space he gave, turning on the tap as he went still. Just as her body was taut, taut as the skin of a drum.

She checked the water. Warm. It was time to start.

Azriel was looking up at her. Something like yearning swirled in his eyes.

He looked so tired. It made her heart ache.

'You can close your eyes,' Elain whispered. And he did.

___

Feedback's welcomed; thanks for reading 😊

If anyone wants to know what the datura flowers look like, CTTO:

@illyrian-lover-flower @julesherondalex @nooriee @mis-lil-red @verifiefangirl @tswaney17

[bahbugandhum]

Extinct - Apples to Apples (Story)

Flummels are a strange, mysterious creature that look like a cross between a rabbit, a hamster... and a donut. As in, they all have a big hole in their chests. Two flummels, siblings Op and Ed live in the Time Terminal, a parallel dimension outside of time and space with four other residents who call themselves "The Extinctables": a dodo, a Tasmanian Tiger, A triceratops, And a meridiungulata. The twin flummels travel through time and space by using magic seeds that when placed on a special platform, connect to different portals that lead to different Time Flowers all throughout history. After an accident that knocked most of the time seeds off of their respective pedestals, Op and Ed offer to go through the portals to identify what time and place they lead to so the Extinctables can put the seeds back in their right places. This is the story of one such time. In a gigantic, lush garden full of many flowers, Two strange, ring shaped creatures called "Flummels" popped out of one of them. A grey, chubby one named Ed got separated from her sister: An energetic, airheaded, orange and cream colored flummel named Op. Ed waded through the flowers searching for his sister. "Op!" cried Ed. "Where are you?" All he could see was millions of flowers, big grassy fields, and giant trees bearing many different fruits. Ed eventually stumbled onto a lion and a sheep eating grass together.

"Hi, strange creature." the lion said to the flummel. "Do you want to come and eat grass with us?" Ed replied "Umm... I don't know much about animals, but aren't you supposed to be eating the sheep next to you INSTEAD of the grass?" "WHAT?" said the lion. "Where did you get THAT idea!?" "Sorry. you see, me and my sister came from the future and in my time, some animals EAT other animals" Ed said. "Ridiculous!" replied the lion. "Every creature here just eats plants and fruit. we never turn on each other." "Well, okay then. By the way," Ed continued. "Have you seen my sister come by? She's like me only she's orange-peach colored, slightly taller and... not as chubby." The Lion answered "Ah, yes, I've seen her before. Last I saw her, she was heading toward the Tree of Knowledge. It's the biggest tree in the garden" "Biggest tree, got it. Thank you!" Ed said as he tucks himself into a donut-shaped wheel and speedily rolls towards the big tree.  "Never saw a creature like that before." The Sheep said to the lion. The lion replied "Yes, they must be from from the LORD's reject bin; like Nestrians or Thoriphants". "Sad, isn't it. Say, let's go and frolic in that field of forget-me-nots." the sheep offered. "Ok, honey" said the lion. Ed finally finds her sister standing next to the big tree. "Op!" said the Flummel, "Where have you been?" Op replied "Oh I'm just waiting for some naked woman to come by so I can give her this big, shiny apple." "Apple?" a shocked Ed said. "Where did you get that apple?" Op said: "A talking snake gave it to me and told me to wait for this 'Eve' Girl, but it feels like I've been waiting for six days straight! *sigh* I should take a day of rest." Ed gulped in terror, finally realizing what's going on. "But this apple looks SOOO delicious!" Op continued, "I wonder what it tastes like? I'm sure she won't notice one small... BIG bite!" "Oh no." said Ed. He figured it out! The talking animals, the big trees, fields upon fields of flowers, The flummels can only be either in one of two places: The Epcot International Flower and Garden Festival in Orlando, Florida... or THE GARDEN OF EDEN! "OP!" shouted Ed,  "You GOTTA rid of that apple, NOW!" Op replied "If you say so, bro. AHHH!" "NO!" screamed Ed "Don't eat it! if you eat that apple, BAAAAD things are gonna happen to us and our whole species!" "What are you saying?" said Op. "I'm saying," Ed warned, "We're in the Garden of Eden!" "Eden?" replied Op, "The only thing that's getting 'Eden' is this apple!" "Op, STOP!" "I'm sorry Ed, but that Eve girl is just gonna have to find her OWN snack! AHHHHH!" Op opened her mouth wide and prepared to bite into that forbidden apple, which will doom all flummelkind!

Ed tucked himself back into a wheel again and just before her sister could even get one tooth into that apple, spin-dashed like a blue hedgehog and just in the nick of time, headbutted the apple out of her hands, sending it flying. "ED! Why did you do that?" "Do what? SAVE YOUR LIFE!? That apple was cursed. If you had bitten into it, we'd be-" Before he could finish scolding her sister, Ed heard another woman's voice saying: "Hey, this apple looks delicious!" *CHOMP*  Then immediately afterward, a man's voice shouted: "EVE! What did he JUST tell you not to do!? *sigh* Oh well, when in Eden..." *CHOMP* The sky started turning black as thunderclouds appear by the dozens. "Ed, what's going on?" said Op in a worried voice. Ed replied: "We need to leave, NOW!" Instantly, the flummel siblings tucked into donut wheels and raced back to the Time Flower that sent them here. Op and Ed watched as flowers all around them start to wilt and die. Ed was scared: "Hurry, Op! If we don't find our flower quick, we'll be stuck here forever! Which one is our one?" "Maybe the one that is spinning and glowing" Op said while still in wheel form. "Yes!" Ed said as he and his sister dashed toward it as the other flowers around it are dying off. "IT'S NOW OR NEVER!" In the very last instant, Op and Ed dove into the Time Flower just before it perished like the other flowers in the garden. Back in the Time Terminal, The two flummels lay exhausted on the floor, catching their breaths as their friend: a dodo bird named Dottie comes to their aid. "Well" she said, "Where did that seed take you?" Ed replied to the dodo "Well, Let's just say it took us to a really, really, really really really really really really, REALLY old place." "What do you mean?" said Dottie. "The Garden of Eden." Ed said, "We just caused the fall of man." And as he finished that sentence, the seed that connected to the Time Flower that rotted and died itself rotted and turned into dust, severing the link to that time forever. Ed added, "And it doesn't look like we'll be going back there anytime soon. ...not that we wanted to anyway." Dottie replies "Well, maybe there are some places in history that we SHOULDN'T mess around in." "Oh, well," Op says in a cheerful tone. "At least I got to bring back a souvenir." Op pulls out an apple that looks like it had two bites into it. "A TASTY souvenir!" She adds. "AHHHHHHHHHHH..." Op prepares to add a third bite to the apple.  Ed screamed at the top of his lungs as he dives towards the apple again. "OP, NOOOOOOOOOO!!!" The End?

[nambamjun]

Two Sides of the Same Medallion {KYC}

Pairing: Kang Yuchan x Reader (Female)

Genres: Greek and Roman Mythology, first meeting, strangers to friends, two witty and stubborn individuals arguing over a literal tree stump.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: This is for an ACEWRITERS event that I am absolutely thrilled to be a part of, Greco Roman Writes! Please feel free to visit the page if you have the time and check out all of the other lovely writers we have in the group along with their brilliant works! As always, comments are loved and welcomed, especially since I took one or two creative liberties with this one. I hope you enjoy ~<3

Nike is the Greek god(dess) of victory, and Victoria is the Roman goddess of the same calling. Of course they don't share the same universe... or do they? What if on a soft spring night the two would meet? Oh this is shaping up to be very interesting indeed...

There was really nothing to do. She had already run around the width of the largest island in Italy seven times. Every one of the laps felt the same, the proceeding taking just as much time as the one before it, and by the time she stopped she was only marginally out of breath, much to her great displeasure. The previous night she had counted once again how many times she could deadlift a six foot long tree trunk before growing bored (two hundred eighty three), as well as the number of pull ups she could perform from a sturdy branch before the same mental unrest met her (one hundred ninety seven). She really didn't feel like counting them again, even if it was to beat her own score.

So, no. There was, quite literally, nothing to do. This upset her very quickly. She hated having nothing to do. It got to the extent where she would almost rather there were fifteen tasks on her metaphorical plate than none, the overcrowding was almost easier to deal with than the silence. Sighing, she figured she would do what she almost always ended up doing - going to the wooded cliffs only a few miles away at the tip of Brindisi, sit against a tree, and look out over the Ionian Sea. The sun was set to rise in only few hours anyways and she never really did tire of the vibrant oranges, reds, and pinks dancing in the water's reflection.

She took her time getting there. She didn't exactly drag her feet but she didn't sprint as she normally would have. Might as well kill some time and take in the scenery. I haven't done that in a while. Ultimately she was glad she did. The spring's second bloom was in full swing and although the sun wasn't out to open up the flowering tree's petals their sweet fragrance still melded with the crisp night time air. Approaching the vista, she sensed that something was slightly off and her footsteps slowed to a halt next to a particularly large shrub. She peered around cautiously until her eyes landed on a form, seemingly human, leaning against the tree she has always claimed as her own resting place.

This alone made her eyes narrow, softly muttering, "that's my spot..."

Taking a deep breath she briskly walked on, making her way towards the offender and not even bothering to be subtle. They didn't look her way, not even when she stopped only a foot away from him. How rude. She could feel herself getting more and more petty by the second as she cocked her hip and let her arms cross loosely over her middle. She cleared her throat. No reaction. What the... oh come on... She lightly coughed. "Hello?"

The poor figure jumped and looked around frantically before meeting her eyes. "Oh my gods-" he gasped, exasperated, "-you scared me nearly half to death! You should know better than to sneak up on people like that!"

The prickle of annoyance lifted her shoulders. "Well excuse me for barging in on someone I've never met before who's sitting in my usual spot!"

"Hey this is my first time here! How was I supposed to know this is your spot?" He gestured dramatically to the ground around him.

"What should I put a sign there or something? Just nail one to the tree? Ah yes I can see it now, 'may no man, woman, or beast rest here; save for Victoria the great.' I could see that going over quite well," she huffed, the very essence of sarcasm dripping from her words as her eyes rolled once again. They settled on his face. He was actually quite attractive, now that she got a good look at him.

"So... your name is Victoria then...?" Just when I was about to let you off the hook, huh?

She sharply refocused her eyes onto his. "How do you know that?"

"You just said it...?"

"I most certainly did not!"

"Oh wow sure you caught me going off your nametag."

"Nametag??" She looked incredulously on her person for only a second before glaring at him. He didn't even have to open his mouth for her to know what he was thinking. His eyes lazily looked at her with a blank expression that said it all. Seriously? You fell for that? Sighing with a shake of her head she resigned herself to plopping down and leaning against a neighboring tree. Despite how much she wanted that spot it wasn't worth the effort, his wit was annoyingly just as sharp as hers. "Well, you know my name." He stared at her with... some other sort of expression, one she couldn't quite read. Curiosity? Recognition? It felt familiar somehow. Not just the look, something else that was so tiny she would barely even try to put her finger on it. "Yours is...?" She trailed off again.

He diverted his gaze for one or two seconds. "Yuchan."

"Yuchan?" He hummed in affirmation. She nodded her head, "good name, I like it. Took you a second to answer though, is that your birth name or one you go by?" His eyebrows rose highly.

She quickly realized the gravity of what she had asked. "Sorry if that-"

"It's just-"

They both looked at each other waiting to speak.

"You can-"

"You go-"

Small smiles crept over their faces and laughter threatened to take them both over. She reached her hand out towards him so as to say go ahead.

After a moment, "It's my own name, and it's okay that you asked."

A light and comfortable silence enveloped them. Names are a personal thing. She didn't want to outright ask but she did have a small twinge of curiosity that he picked up on by her contemplative expression. "Before I was born... people thought I was going to be a girl, so they named me Nike. It could probably have been seen as a guy's name, sure, but I never really liked it, so..." he turned his face forward to look out over the waters.

Curling her legs to her chest and loosely draping her arms around them, she slowly nodded her head again before resting her chin on her knees. "I respect that." Out of her peripherals she saw him slightly look over to her for only a second before refocusing on the view. She did the same.

Neither of them talked for quite a while. Crickets sung an aria that mixed with distantly faint rolling of water on rock, and every so often a rustle from the leaves of the trees around them dancing in the gentle breeze. It was so calm that for a few precious moments she forgot who she was, her responsibilities, and the challenges of being more than mortal. It was just her, the beautiful world, and her friend a few feet away. Friend... could she call him that? Might as well.

Unbeknownst to her, he was having almost the exact same thoughts. Or at least type of thoughts. He was glad he found this place, and even her, really. Home had been getting too much for him, his superiors only giving him more and more work to do, expecting him to be perfect all the time and be completely and unconditionally devoted to his work. There was only so much success he could give to others, though, before he would drain himself completely. That was something they didn't seem to understand. So, he stormed out, and somehow found his way to that spot. Wherever this spot even is, anyways.

This turned out to calm him down much more than he thought it would, and despite bolting from everything to be alone, the company was nice.

Meanwhile, the fact that her spot had been taken over for the night was completely out of the mind of the girl in question. She slowly allowed herself to be lulled into sleep, leaning more heavily against the tree and her fingers relaxing their grip on each other from around her legs. As unconsciousness settled around her like a heavy blanket he stole a quick glance at her relaxed figure. The corners of his lips turned upward and his eyes softened before looking back away. Exhaling softly, he knew he should get back, but he decided to stay for just a little longer. Just until the sun starts to peak over the horizon. Then I'll go.

But not yet, for now, he would stay there, in that spot, and with that girl.

A new friend.

----------

[[ Quick lil end note, no matter who you are, where you come from, or how you identify - you are valid, and you are loved. <3 ]]

[luna-tormenta]

Lúthiena & The Fam Book Review: Urban Faery Magick by Tara Sanchez

This is my first witchy book review, please bare with me. It may not be the best review but, I wanted to share my thoughts and experiences, as well as some of my spirit family's opinions on it! Hope you all enjoy it! Thanks for reading💀🌙🌻

Lúthiena's Review

This book challenges the reader to "stretch their understanding of the world around them" (pg 7), and after reading, I believe it truly lived up to these words. Urban Faery Magick is dedicated to techniques, experiences, encounters, and everything in-between of working with and learning about the Fae in modern times!

Firstly, I would like to say, the title of this book should be "Modern Faery Magick" or "Faery Magick of Today", because it has a TON of information on working with the Fair Folk. Not just working with them in an "Urban" sense. Yes I know it says "Connecting to the Fae in the Modern World" underneath the title, but I just think it should have been named differently🤔🤷‍♀️

The first portion of this book, is all about techniques of meditation, protection, and how to build up necessary skills for communicating and working with the Fae. Such as working with your imagination to build up your Sight, practicing Pareidolia (the ability to see faces and shapes in objects), and dowsing for Fae activity. There are a bunch of techniques, that I will describe in a later paragraph! It also contains information on the Courts, names, and folklore surrounding these amazing spirits. Tara does an amazing, in-depth job with writing about the Fae, especially when in the case of working with them.

Chapter 3 contains detailed descriptions of basic techniques to aid the reader in their exploration of Faeries. It covers breathing techniques, rhythmic breathing and walking, and a meditation called "The Silence Between" (pg 42).

This involves listening to your heart beat and feeling your pulse to meditate (your heartbeat and pulse don't line up and there's a small pause between each.) While using this technique, it allows you to enter into the Otherworld through the slight pause, it's a neutral ground between our realm and theirs, it's "the silence between" both worlds.

Next in line comes a cleansing/grounding technique, called the Verdant Breath, which uses the aid of an Ivy plant spirit. In chapter 4, Tara uses this breathing technique to go a little further and work with this spirit to protect yourself. I really enjoyed learning the different techniques throughout this chapter, it was really cool to see new components I've never learned before. I have tried the Verdant Breath and have seen a difference in my ability to meditate. Next, I will be trying the Silence Between.

Teachings in chapters 3 and 4 are there to help you build up skills for further exercises and meditations that are placed throughout the entire book. Tara also uses these chapters to explain why it is important to build up your abilities before interacting with the Fae, and why it's highly recommended to protect yourself. Amongst these pages are different charms and amulets to use, as well.

Next we further our understanding of the Fae through chapters 5-7, and look into further techniques used in folklore and history. I really like Tara's use of history and folktales because she touches on bits and pieces of EVERYTHING, and knows when to stay in her lane.

The second half of Urban Faery Magick is my favorite. Tara introduces an elemental system known as Wu Xing, because not all Faeries "fit neatly into the boxes" of the five elemental system we know as witches, and I highly agree with her! (Pg 101) In ways this system is alike the five elemental system we know and frequently use, but is a bit different. I highly recommend looking into Wu Xing a bit further after reading Tara's book.

Leaving out Spirit of the western elemental system, Tara combines the Wu Xing elements with the 4 elements of our normal system, to create more categories for identifying and labeling species of Fae. I have included a quote of page #104 for a better understanding of how Tara classifies and combines the elements.

"Note: ...The manner in which my system combines the Eastern and Western systems follows a very similar process, with each of the Eastern elements combing to make aspects of the Western (or vice versa), as can be seen in the table below.

[Picture ID: Columns of the Eastern and Western elementals systems. Across the top are five boxes containing the words Wood, Fire, Metal, Water and Earth, each box contains a element. On the left side of the graph contains four boxes, from top to bottom, with the words Earth, Air, Fire and Water. The different element columns are combined. Top to bottom, under the "Wood" category, we have "Earth of Wood, Air of Wood, Fire of Wood, Water of Wood". To the right of "Wood", under the "Fire" category there is "Earth of Fire, Air of Fire, Fire of Fire, Water of Fire". To the right of "Fire" is "Metal". This category starts with "Earth of Metal" then "Air of Metal, Fire of Metal, Water of Metal". Next in line is "Water". Underneath we have "Earth of Water, Air of Water, Fire of Water, Water of Water". The last category is "Earth". Underneath is "Earth of Earth, Air of Earth, Fire of Earth, Water of Earth". END ID]

This was also my first ID description. Please let me know if I need to make any changes to it! Thank you!

Therefore a being who is traditionally considered a water elemental may well actually be earth of water. Or, as with one of the entities I have worked with, fire of water. Another being may be air of metal rather than entirely air. Yet another, earth of wood, and so on.

...For each element, we will follow a case study for a particular Fae, getting to know them within environments where you may have not have thought to find them." (Page 104)

The case studies are a mix of Tara's personal experiences as well as experiences of mutuals of hers, and range across a few generations.

Each element has its own chapter, and contains a lot of information about each element. Tara does "modern sightings" for the elements, as well as two case studies. There are paragraphs dedicated to aligning yourself with each element, which I wish were a little bit longer. She also gives lovely guided meditations to visit and learn about each element's realm. At the end of each element chapter, Tara concludes with "Finding Other Fae" which includes names of Fae species to be on the lookout for!

The only bad thing I'd have to say about this book is the paragraph on giving thanks to Faeries. It states not to directly say "thank you" or acknowledge them for helping you. I, and I state again, I believe in giving thanks to my Faerie friends. Plus, Tara kind of contradicts herself by dedicating a paragraph to "not thanking the Fae" then tells you, in a later chapter, to "thank the Fae you work with". But, I digress.

I'm super grateful to have come across this book! I highly recommend it to anyone who works with the Fae, as well as beginners, because like Tara says in the beginning, everyone can learn at least one new thing! I give this book 5 out of 5 stars!⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Spirit Family's Reviews:

Dawn, the Selkie:

"I really enjoyed the classification of the elemental systems combined. It adds a deeper perspective and understanding of Fae for humans to learn about us. This allows them to form a better viewpoint on our aspects as Faeries."

L, a Lunar Moth Faerie:

"I enjoyed the element system like Dawn, but got a bit confused on how to categorize Fae, like myself, who have planetary aspects. I wonder if Lúthiena will write to the author for me!! Other than that I agree the info gives aspiring AND experienced Fae workers a ton of info to starting and maintaining relationships with spirits of our kind. I also believe it is in our nature to urbanize and I like Tara's view on it. She should write another book!!"

Ly, High Lord Fae of the Night Court:

"The information provided in Urban Faery Magick is simply put and highly informative. As a High Fae Lord, it is my duty to join together with different types of Faeries, meaning I have met quite a few species. Tara adds great descriptions to each element she provides, and elegantly designed ways the reader can interact with each element. This is a must-read for anyone wishing to add a little magic to their lives, or is wanting to find a path into our world."

Tar, High Lord Fae of the Summer Court:

"Continuing off my friend's review, I would wish to add that Tara magnificently wrote Urban Faery Magick. You can clearly see the dedication she has towards working with Faeries throughout the pages. She must have a higher purpose of working with the Fae. I especially enjoy knowing she is teaching others about things like the Thorn Gates, since a lot of portals have been destroyed. Hopefully, thanks to Tara's book, they may gain the respect they once had."

Bo, a Boggart:

"Let's just say I did NOT like the stuff said towards boggarts. We are not house faeries gone wild. Yes, sometimes we have slightly irritating tendencies. But we always mean well to you humans. Other than that the book was great."

Hank, an Eyeball Demon:

"Even though I am no where near a classification of Fae, I have had many encounters with them over my many years. Tara has an interesting take on the modernization of the Fae species that is very true and real. I agree the titled works, Urban Faery Magick, should be on every spirit worker's shelf."

Dara, a Toddler Fae*:

"I really liked the story of Rumpleskillson. (Rumpelstiltskin). It was like so cool he could turn that stuff to gold. Maybe I can do that someday. Also, there's like so many stories of us in that book! El Cadejo was another cool one! If you like stories about us you should read that book"

*For those who are not aware, Dara is an experimental hybrid Faery. He was rescued from a Spirit Hoarder who enjoyed experimenting on faeries.

Ra, a Rose Demon:

"I didn't enjoy being called a plant diva, no matter how true the statement is.

The Earth class was slightly misunderstood as we are still here, thriving ever beautifully on. Some of us just choose to hide in your plants more carefully.

Like Hank said, I don't technically fall under the Faery thing either, but I am a plant spirit and Tara mostly depicted us perfectly. I mean she did write some pretty neat stuff." **brushes hair off shoulder**

Aaron, a Hellhound:

"This was a very knowledge filled book."

LA, a Dandelion Angel:

"Firstly, we're not ALL plant divas. We just really like things to go certain ways. Other than being called a diva, the pages of Urban Faery Magick contained useful information for Fae workers. I especially liked reading the Cairn exercise and how it instructed to build it at home, NOT in nature. I also agree Tara should create another magical read like this."

We hope you enjoyed our reviews!

For more information on Urban Faery Magick please visit:

Search "Urban Faery Magick" on Amazon

Www.TaraSanchez.com

[silly-bean]

Relentless

Another Tsurugi AU drabble! This one features Angeal and his first fight with the mysterious "Sword of Wutai". This is the 2nd chronologically, but the 3rd I've put out.

Read on AO3

Word Count: 2,603

~~~~~~

The night air is wonderfully cool on Angeal’s face after the overwhelming heat of daytime in Wutai. Summer is thankfully over, but it still gets hotter and more humid here in the thick forests than it ever did even back home. The breeze plays with his hair as he moves through the underbrush, keeping an ear out to keep track of his squad and listen for a possible ambush. They’re not expecting one, not when they themselves are a hastily-put together scouting party, but you can never be too careful when there’s a rumored sighting of The Sword in the area.

There’s a soft rustling as one of his squad, a 2nd by the name of Stevens, approaches him from where he’s been circling to the east.

“Report,” he says, keeping his voice a mere murmur.

“Sir, I’ve found a camp, looks like Wutai. Fresh too.”

Angeal hums, nodding, and makes a series of taps on the tree he’s stopped by. The rest of his squad melts out of the trees, gathering around him. He nods at Stevens and gestures at him to lead them. They move quickly and quietly, efficient in a way only severe training or their enhancements can provide. They reach the camp within minutes, spreading out to circle it until they’re sure it’s unoccupied. Angeal steps in first, taking in the sight of bedrolls and bags in a ring around a smothered fire. Another one of his SOLDIERs steps forward and opens a bag, pulling out what is easily identifiable as a Wutaian guerilla uniform. The 1st fights the urge to swear; a force of guerillas this close to the ShinRa supply camp can only spell bad news.

“What do we do, Sir?” Stevens asks, stepping into position at his right side.

“We call it in. Make sure everything’s alright.”

A nod and Stevens pulls out his long-range radio.

“2nd Class Stevens to base, do you read me?”

The radio crackles loudly in the night, but there is no response.

“Base? This is 2nd Class Stevens. Do you read me?”

No answer. Nervous eyes, glowing in the low light, turn to the 1st. Angeal swallows down the dread pooling in his gut and stands taller.

“It could be anything. We know the radios aren’t the best in the mountains. For now, we head back to camp and pray that they’re doing their own scouting.”

That sends a ripple of unease through his squad, several tightening their grips on their swords. Angeal resists the urge to do so himself, bottling his fear and panic up inside of him. He can’t afford to show weakness to his troops. They count on his steady endurance and leadership.

“Let’s move. Fan out, but stay within hearing range of at least one other. I don’t want any surprises, but I refuse to get all of us killed because we got boxed in.”

“Sir,” the squad responds, already disappearing into the forest again, headed back southwest to their camp. Angeal takes a deep breath to steady himself before following.

They move as quickly as they dare, steps mere whispers on the forest floor and their forms dark blurs as they rush through the trees. The moon is rising above them, not quite full as it lazily floats towards its peak. There’s a strange distortion in the sky, though, and Angeal isn’t sure what it is until he smells smoke. The fear solidifies in his gut and he gives up all notion of stealth, sprinting through the underbrush. His squad heads his actions, pulling closer to him as they too pick up speed to match his pace.

They break the tree-line at the edge of the bowl-shaped valley that their troops had set up the supply camp in, well-within their own captured land. Below them, smoke curls up from the command tent, flames glowing like a beacon in the night. Panicked yelling echoes through the valley with the sound of clashing steel and impacting spells. Near the burning tent, a cluster of fighting figures can be seen. Angeal swears heavily and launches himself down the slope; he can’t let the camp be destroyed.

The camp is in chaos. Though it looks like only the command tent has been set alight, there’s evidence of sabotage everywhere. Bodies of infantry and SOLDIERs alike litter the ground - Angeal signals a couple of his squad to start checking them for signs of life - tents have collapsed, and still-smoking craters litter the ground where there were once piles of supplies. The sounds of battle are coming from the center of camp, so Angeal sends what members of his squad haven’t broken off to run damage control to spread out and encircle the fighting. He proceeds straight through the camp towards the center, hand on his broadsword hilt as he waits to be attacked. He isn’t.

He reaches the command tent and lays eyes on the commotion for himself. A ring of SOLDIERs surrounds someone, charging in and getting thrown back readily. Infantry fight around them, the Wutai guerillas darting in and out of the chaos as they take out troops and dig through the tents for anything to sabotage. Angeal fights through to the center ring, and catches a 3rd as he’s thrown back into him. The SOLDIER thanks him, but the 1st only has eyes for the figure in the circle. It’s the Sword.

Angeal feels his breath catch in his chest as he watches the man dance through the fighters like they aren’t even there, his strange sword glinting in the blaze of the command tent. He swats the SOLDIERs away almost casually, knocking them down and giving them superficial wounds to get them out of his way. Angeal looks down at the 3rd he’s just caught. A slash wound bleeds heavily on his chest. The Lieutenant sets the 3rd down and hands him his broadsword, seeing that he has another weapon and the SOLDIER’s is nowhere to be seen.

Angeal takes a deep breath, settles his hand on the grip of his buster sword, and steps into the ring. The Sword’s eyes immediately settle on him despite the shouting 2nd throwing himself at him. He dispatches the SOLDIER with ease, not sparing him a look, and cements himself into a ready stance, not looking away from Angeal.

“Fall back! Fend off the rest of the force. I’ll take him,” he orders, voice carrying over the clamor of battle.

The other SOLDIERs shoot him wide-eyed looks, but obey, rushing off to follow his orders. Angeal straightens, unsheathes his blade, and settles it in front of his face, taking a deep breath to center himself. He releases it and brings the blade around into a ready position. The Sword watches him, something unreadable in his expression as he watches the SOLDIER’s motions.

Without preamble, Angeal launches himself at the man, bringing the buster to bare. The Sword is already moving, swinging his smaller blade around to shove off the sword and getting in close. The SOLDIER, expecting a dodge more than anything, struggles to reverse the momentum of the large sword, but manages to get out of the way as the dual-edged blade carves a gutting path. He allows the momentum of the trade to carry him away from his opponent, wincing as the shallow wound he wasn’t able to avoid stings on his stomach. He turns just in time to catch a blow, staggering under the force before he shoves it off to the side and throws a punch with his off-hand. The blow is dodged, but not nearly as quickly as the initial sword strike was.

He knows how to fight blades like mine, but did the punch catch him off guard?

Angeal has no time to ruminate on the possibility as the Sword is on him again, strikes ringing against the metal of his buster as the 1st uses more like a shield than a blade. The man is staying too close for him to properly wield the large blade, and it’s all Angeal can do to prevent a fatal wound. His arms shake from the force of his opponent’s blows even as that strange sword slices into any bit of him he doesn’t guard quickly enough. He’s losing. Badly.

The thought strikes him as the Sword slips a strike through his guard and slices into his shoulder. Angeal barely manages to hold in a cry of pain, but the flinch is enough for the man to break his stance completely, almost wrenching the buster from his grip. There’s another stab of pain, and the 1st registers that his knee is hurting now, but he’s struggling to keep sight of his opponent through the tears gathering unwanted in his eyes. The Sword stands over him, expression cold and not at all Sephiroth had described that night months ago. It causes a chill to run down his spine as he realizes that the man means to kill him. He tightens his grip on the buster, forcing himself to his feet even as his knee threatens to buckle beneath him. He will face this with honor.

“Tsurugi!” someone, most likely a fellow guerilla, calls out.

The man lowers his blade and turns to the speaker, a questioning tilt to his head. They go back and forth in rapid-fire Wutaian - too fast for Angeal’s mere weeks of lessons to keep up with - before the fighter gives a nod and disappears back into the camp. The Sword, or Tsurugi, apparently, turns back to look at Angeal. He sweeps his gaze over him, top to bottom, before huffing a breath out through his nose. He sheathes his blade across his back and gives the 1st a stern look.

“You should be more careful, Hewley.” Tsurugi’s voice is surprisingly deep, but mature and smooth in a way he also didn’t expect. “Rushing in without a plan is likely to be the end of you.”

Angeal grits his teeth and has to resist snarling at the man; he’s been spending too much time with Genesis. Tsurugi raises an eyebrow like he’s aware of the small inner conflict and smirks.

“Till next time,” he says, turning around and striding off into the smoke.

The 1st waits until he can’t hear footfalls anymore before he allows himself to kneel again, resheathing the buster as he does so. All the repressed pain from his wounds washes over him in an instant, and he coughs roughly as he brings a hand up to clutch at the slash over his gut. His vision is blurring at the edges and he has to fight to remain upright. A blur detaches itself from his surroundings and approaches, kneeling before him. A green light suddenly shines, and a cool wave of relief washes over him as his wounds begin to seal shut. His vision clears and the blur resolves itself into Stevens.

“Thank you,” he breathes, cracking his neck and rolling his shoulders.

“Sir.” Stevens nods and stands back up, offering a hand.

The 1st accepts it and hauls himself to his feet. He looks around at the camp for the first time since his arrival. The fire has almost burned itself out, though smoke continues to hang low over the camp. There are bodies scattered on the ground, but most of them are awake and groaning.

“Anything to report?”

“Sir, we managed to save some of the stashes, but the munitions and rations went up first. Most of our coms equipment is down too, though I think someone was trying to get one to work to report into home base. Our squad helped though. We were able to put up enough of a fight that they all pulled out.”

Angeal sighs, walking towards the communications tent.

“Casualties?”

“So far, surprisingly low. Count is at 23 right now, 13 infantry and 10 SOLDIERs. It appears the guerillas cared more about hitting our supply line than manpower.”

“Of course, is that not what they’ve been doing this whole time? They want us gone and know that troops are easier to move than supplies.”

Stevens hums. They reach the tent and duck inside. Most of the equipment has been smashed to bits, but the officer has managed to salvage one of the array radios.

“Major.”

The man stands, snapping to attention.

“Lieutenant, you’re alive, Sir.”

Angeal smiles. “Sure am, though I’m not quite sure how, myself. Tsurugi seemed pretty set on killing me there for a bit.”

Both the SOLDIER and Major flinch a bit, but then look at him in curiosity.

“Tsurugi, Sir?” Stevens asks.

“The Sword. There was another Wutai troop who called him that before he left. It’s also a word that keeps popping up in the communications we’ve been able to intercept. Now we know what they’re referencing, at least.”

The Major frowns, processing.

“Major, have you managed to contact home base yet?”

The man gives a decisive nod. “Yes Sir! I assume you want to make the report?”

Angeal nods. The Major turns back to the device and messes with a few dials before offering the seat in front of it to him. The 1st nods in thanks and sits down, picking up the radio.

“Homebase, this is supply station delta, over.”

A crackle, then a response. “We read you, Delta, over.”

“This is Lieutenant General Hewley, there’s been an attack. I’d like to report directly to General Sephiroth, over.”

There’s a beat of silence before the radio comes to life. “We read you, Hewley. The General has been sent for, over.”

They wait for a few minutes in silence before the device crackles again.

“Angeal? This is Sephiroth. I hear you have a report for me?”

“It was him. The Sword. There’d been sightings by camps further north of a possible guerilla force inbound, so I led a scouting party to see if we could find them. We found an empty camp, bare except for some bags and a smothered fire. We headed back, but the camp was already under attack.

“The fighting was centered around the command tent, so that’s where I went. I found the Sword surrounded by SOLDIERs and fighting them off like it was nothing. I, I ordered them to disengage and go support those fighting elsewhere in the camp.” Angeal pauses, swallowing before he continues. “I fought him. It, it was nothing like I’ve felt before. Other than the first blow, I was on the defensive from the start, barely able to keep up. I sustained several injuries. He had me downed, to where he would have killed me easily. He didn’t. Another guerilla came up to him and they talked before he withdrew.”

There’s silence while Sephiroth digests the information before he speaks again.

“Did he say anything to you?”

Angeal huffs a laugh. “Yeah. Told me I shouldn’t rush into things. Said goodbye, that he’d see me again before he disappeared.”

Quiet again.

“Anything else to report?”

“The guerilla who approached him, at the end. He called him ‘Tsurugi’.”

“Tsurugi?” There’s an odd note in the General’s voice.

“Yes, Sir. That’s what I heard. I know we’ve been seeing it pop up in communications. Does it mean anything to you?”

A beat, then, “A tsurugi is a type of Wutaian blade. I assume his blade is one, or, at least, was modeled after one. But, now we have something to call him other than ‘the Sword’, if nothing else.”

Angeal hums. “I’ll have a more detailed report sent tomorrow. But, you should be able to clear Genesis’s mission, now that we know Tsurugi is here.”

“Very well. Get some rest, Angeal.”

[motivatedtale-blog]

About Motivatedtale

.:Contents:.

.:Author’s Note:.

.:Summary/Idea:.

.:Characters:.

Motive

Unmotivated

.:Stray Facts and Resources:.

FAQ

Rules

.:Inspiration:.

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

.:Author’s Note:.

   Hey, so I've noticed this a long time ago but I’m just now confronting it since I got my computer fixed- it seems pretty impossible to reach the “About Motivatedtale” on mobile, even with the literal LINK to the page (I could only sort of access it through some loopholes in a browser- and the link just took me to my Tumblr instead), so I wanted to compile the information that’s in there into a post for any mobile users who may follow this blog. I’ve got more followers here than my art blog-- so even if there’s not much interaction each post, I think there’s at least a few people who might not have access to an about page here. Changes are very likely to be made and things will be added occasionally :)

.:Summary/Idea:.

 “Have you ever wondered what happens to creations when a creator gives up?”

 Motivatedtale is essentially an abandoned AU with no finished story or a plot. Which, ironically, not having a story is the story itself. It’s a tale about how the lack of motivation (along with other things like self doubt and lack of interest) in a Creator leaves a story unfinished, and with no reason to exist, no story, the AU is crumbling into nothingness, as it is being forgotten by the only one who knows about its existence- the Creator. However, there’s two characters in it that have to deal with that burden of having no ending or reasons to exist. And they’re completely aware of what’s going on.

 At least, the first one that was created is aware, because they were made to be that way. They inform the only other character (Frisk/Motive) about all of this when they meet. They’re a Sans of course (which is sort of a self aware joke because a lot of people either start with the Sans of an AU when creating characters, subtly revolve around a Sans of an AU in a story, or the entire story literally and shamelessly revolves around a Sans. This is not an attack on anyone). This Sans goes by Unmotivated, and is quite bitter about existing.  These characters have no finished story, no destiny, and no purpose. Being self aware of this can be a great burden on hope and happiness; ignorance is bliss, after all.

 What the AU would’ve been if it was “completed” is unsure.

 How the story ends is not fully decided or meant to be disclosed (for now), but even if this AU is finished or not, it is already technically complete. It symbolizes a project that is given up on; a project that is abandoned, and what would happen if the characters in these types of projects were conscious about this- if our ideas existed somewhere out there, somewhere where our decisions, intentional and unintentional, have a serious affect.

 So, if this AU is abandoned, it’ll be quite ironic.

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

.:Characters:.

Motive

    Motive is the Frisk of this AU, and one of only two characters that are in this AU. Motive was created after Unmotivated, but the coloring of their design was given up on towards the very end. Their sweater is unfinished because the creator gave up on them due to being overwhelmed with empty and destructive thoughts, but the outline/shape is still there. The sleeve usually is never shaded/effected by light.

  Motive is an optimist, and believes that their AU will one day be finished. They have the soul of motivation, which is outwardly visible and tied to the loose hanging strap of their overalls. They don’t have preferences in pronouns (though they/them is usually the default), and calling them by any pronoun is fine (she/he/they/it..it really doesn’t matter, honestly).  

  Motive acts impulsively a lot of times and does not think of the consequences of their actions…or, they do, but they choose to move forward with their actions anyways. Since optimism is one of their key traits and it’s exaggerated and simplified in their character and logic, it can result in some bad outcomes. The same goes for their impulsitivity. They’re not that serious natured, and act more like a child than a young adult (despite being 18). However, they do make a lot of (sometimes unnerving) jokes that could be considered uncomfortable, but they mean no harm. While Motive is quite intelligent and empathetic, they’re distracted quite easily and might say or do inappropriate things during certain situations.

  Since Motive is technically a new character and was not fully developed by their Creator (backstory, powers, etc), their underdevelopment as a character is actually a big part of their development as a character. 

(More is to be added later)

Unmotivated

 The Sans of the AU, and the first ever character created (which again is poking fun of the idea that people usually start with the Sans of the AU for characters). Unmotivated is bitter and cynical towards his existence and his Creator, and is completely aware of the multiverse and AU Creators. A big fourth wall breaker. He’s apathetic, bored and often paints himself as emotionless and uncaring to hide any hurt/feelings of helplessness. He bottled them away a long time ago.  At first, Unmotivated was hopeful about his AU, but he was alone for an unspecified but long amount of time in his AU, and was driven to toxicity and bitterness during that time. He’s seen his universe grow, halt, and then slowly deteriorate- he has seen new ideas come and go, and is helpless to stop the rampant decay of his universe- his home- his story. He’s overall a pretty lonely character. 

When or why he got the nickname “Unmotivated” is unclear- but it’s definitely supposed to be a pun. He hates the name but finds it funny and ironic at the same time. 

  Unmotivated’s soul is held by a string that is woven into his rain coat. He considers this to be poor design choice but doesn’t really do anything to fix it. He often keeps his soul in his pocket for safe keeping.  (More is to be added later)

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

.:Stray Facts:.

• The AU resets (sort of like an update) each time a new idea is added. This is how Unmotivated is generally aware of Motive when they’re created. • The “Creator” resembles anyone who has abandoned or given up on their projects or ideas. This isn’t meant to put people that do this in a negative light.

•The white of Motive’s sleeve isn’t meant to be shaded since it’s “incomplete.”

FAQ (most are from amino since not many people ask here)

- What was the AU supposed to originally be before it was abandoned?

 This is undecided and left up for interpretation. However, based off of the design of the current characters, it can be safely assumed that the AU was supposed to be more lighthearted and cutesy. There are random bits and ideas spread throughout the AU that give glimpses to what it could’ve been.

- Can I draw fanart of these characters?

 Of course! I’d be honored to receive fanart and would love to see it! Just please keep things appropriate if you do.

- Is Ink Sans or Core Frisk going to be in the comic?

No.

 I’ve gotten asked this several times, and the answer is no. Doing this would completely ruin the theme and point I’m trying to get across with this comic. This story revolves around a Creator and their Creations, and there will be no other characters made by other people.

- Are Motive and Unmotivated shipped together?

NO.

 It’s fine as a joke but please realize they aren’t. This isn’t an AU centered around romance and would distract from the goal of the comic if I had that. While I’m not anti-frans in any sense, I still don’t want it in my comic.

- How often do you plan on updating the comic?

  Each page is published whenever I finish it nowadays due to stress of a schedule. I post them in bulks of 2-3 on amino and twitter, and whenever I finish the page on deviantart, instagram and here.

- Is the Creator a character?

 Yes, and no. The Creator represents not only myself, but any artist that has struggles putting their creations out there due to insecurities or other causes. They’re more symbolic and fluent rather than a structured and identified character. Of course though, if there is any introduction of the Creator, I would have to give them some sort of design- and I do have general ideas of what they’d look like. However, they’re still supposed to represent a broader group of people than just myself.

- What does Unmotivated think about other AUs/Sanses?

 Unmotivated has an apathetic mindset when it comes to AUs and other characters like him. He’s incredibly self aware and sees a much bigger picture. He knows characters are just pawns to their creator, and won’t get fazed by any story. Sort of like watching actors in a movie while constantly reminding yourself that they’re just actors. However, he is quite envious of anyone with a complete and happy storyline, since that’s something he lacks but yearns the most. That’s something he wish he had.

 Keep in mind Unmotivated and Motive cannot interact or travel outside of their AU, and no one can interact with their AU except the editor/creator.

Rules

• Please do not publicly RP with these characters unless given permission. This might be changed after more of the comic is complete, but I do not want these character’s personalities to be strewn.

•  Please do not draw or write NSFW with my characters– I am a minor, and a large part of my audience are also minors.

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

.:Inspiration:.

  Alright, this part is going to be a lot less formal and more personal. The idea for this AU came from my own self doubt and self destructive attitude as a creator. Doubting my own works and ideas has seriously held me back for a long time, and it STILL holds me back as I’m sure it has for many, MANY other creators like me. Musicians, artists, writers.. Almost all of us have that fear of trying out a new idea or making something you usually wouldn’t. Almost all of us have felt that crushing self doubt when you see someone better than you, and you tell yourself you’ll never be like them, your art will never be that great, you’ll never get that far…so on, so on.

  So, while I was trying to come up with an idea for an AU (which I had actually been considering for well over a year), the thoughts crept in.

“no one will like this”

“there’s enough AU’s”

“you’re unoriginal”

“this is a waste of time”

“the fandom is dying”

“you have horrible character designs”

“AU’s are overrated”

“this doesn’t fit your audience”

“people will judge you”

“you never finish anything”

“this is stupid”

“your art isn’t good enough”

“you’re not good enough”

“someone probably already came up with this idea”

“no one cares about your idea”

“no one would bother with your art”

  And ironically, all these thoughts gave me this idea.

  Even so, these thoughts have still been nagging me every time I even try to work on this, and it’s been taking a lot of courage to take on the heap of anxiety I have over something so harmless. I didn’t join the Undertale fandom for over a year simply because I was afraid of being judged for my interests,, fun fact. Never thought I’d be able to make an AU. I’m still quite nervous posting art of anything that isn’t Mario related for some reason.

  Putting all this to side though, I find the concept of what happens to unfinished and/or abandoned stories and projects interesting, especially if there’s an alternate reality that’s actually effected by your decisions. Kinda like you’re a god. I mean, imagine what it would be like if you had a creator and they just gave up on you, and you’re left with no purpose. Seems like it would suck, haha.

  So that’s basically my AU, Motivatedtale. If you have any thoughts or questions, I’d love to hear them. Thanks for reading if you did!

[coconutshvings]

[3:30] P.M.

Group || Ateez

Member || Yeosang

Genre || Fluff

Warnings || Y/D/N = Your daughter's name

~ it was requested the most, I couldn't say no { Even if it flops}

P.S. "Rays of fondness" or "Kinder Heart" for the title ?

- Rays of Fondness {pending...}

You hear skipping of tiny shoes ever so often as you walk through the hallway of the afternoon kindergarten school which your daughter attends, you admire the tiny hands and fingers that grace the walls from the children in different colors of paint. You pass by windows of classes seeing parents greet their children in warm hugs and with air brush kisses to their heads and cheeks. Your daughter's class was the last one at the end of the hallway on the right so you couldn't miss it, you could hear the happy cries of children and as you approached the door you could see the little ones conversing, sharing views of their recently made pictures and or sharing snacks. "Mr. Yeosang put mine at the top of the board, please?"

There it was- your daughter's silvery voice. It was the most pleasant lullaby to you at moments when in time though she was only five, she became your parent when you layed down your head on her little lap and she'd listen to your 'troubles' which were really deciding what dinner should be then sometimes fall asleep, but in most moments her voice didn't put you to sleep but keep you alert and on your toes, happy.

Your thoughts and dazed state came to a hult upon seeing the sight that you did, him, Your daughter's art teacher!Yeosang. You had a mini flash back to what she had told you he'd said to her the day you two walked out for her break.

"Mr. Yeosang said to give this to the lovely parent that picks me up and drops me off. I have only you who does that."

"Mr. Yeosang said he'd buy you real flowers when he had the chance then give them to you when you came , I told him just bring popcorn."

Her voice was soft in your head and as of now you were wondering just exactly who he was up close and personal you'd never spoken to him just gentle smiles of unspoken good afternoons. Odd to have no communication with your daughter's school teacher but other Parents had more to say.

"Mommy!" A soft yet highpitched voice called out, you quickly darted your eyes around until they landed on your little girl noticing instantly that her hand was attached to a much larger one. Your eyes traced up to the arm attached to the hand until they reached a face to identify the person- Mr. Yeosang was coming your way with your daughter's tiny hand in his own larger one.

Your Daughter haulted infront of you eyes reflecting dashes of the sun and obvious excitement.

You tried your best to not break your vision away from your daughter , "Look who's hand I'm holding!" She said bouncing from toe to heel, now you could look up but before you did you tried to mentally prepare yourself- ah, there were his eyes beautiful and light brown complimented once again thanks to the sun rays. You took in his atire without him noticing as he held a polite smile to you.

He didn't dress like an art teacher you'd ever seen, it wasn't inappropriate but it was different. A rather large knitted sweater patterned red, black and white with a rectangular shape pattern, white khaki pants tucked in black boots- rather different fashion from what you expected but still nice. His hair was a beautiful Cross between golden blonde and brown it fit well.

"Good afternoon." He spoke , his voice was so modulated and calm, you were having trouble getting your voice not to quiver let alone finding it, get it together this is your child's teacher.

"Back at you." You smiled but realizing exactly what you said, Yeosang was taken aback as well yet he remained pleasent letting out a light chuckle "You must be Y/D/N's mother"

You gently nodded extending your hand to shake his outstretched one, "I got two stars on my glitter macaroni stick person." Your daughter grinned catching your attention once more. She pointed as high as she could and you followed her tiny finger seeing her picture almost instantly, at the top as she requested "That's more beautiful than anything I ever made at your age." You gasped truly loving her art work.

"Y/D/N is one of the many star students in class." Your daughter's art teacher!Yeosang announced to you further catching your eyes once more. "That's always good to hear." You beamed, Mr. Yeosang hummed in agreement.

It was quiet very momentarily.

"I don't recall having your number on file with the other parents- it doesn't have to be your personal number just reachable to get in touch in regards to Y/D/N. It is however completely okay if you're not comfortable giving one."

You listened to him carefully processing his statement. "I don't think I've given it but I do have my personal number to my place of work- down at the pediatric center." Yeosang nodded understanding.

"Well then, if you feel comfortable enough and feel it may do no harm, right at my desk is the number and address book for-"

"Mom! Minnie's Cafe is serving free lunch stuff all day, let's hurry for macroons!" Your daughter squealed breaking you away from your conversation with her art teacher!Yeosang.

Your eyes flickered between your daughter and Yeosang, he could tell you were, debating on what to do and rushed to help.

"Uh- perhaps another time?"

You gave him a questioning glance

"You don't wanna miss Lunch it's the most important meal, to me." Yeosang joked. You smiled catching on to his humor rather quickly "Yes, Yes I ag-"

You yelped softly as you felt a little tug on your hand pulling towards the classroom's exit "We'll see you tomorrow Mr. Y." Your daughter, yelled.

You did your best to wave at him as he did to you smiling almost as if he was admiring you and Y/D/N.

"Mr. Y is, short for Yeosang, Mommy." You daughtered stated making you giggle "I know gorgeous."

You'd be sure to Give Mr. Yeosang your number the next time you seen him- in regards to Y/D/N of course.

…

~ okay so, if this turns into a series some parts may be shorter than others because sometimes I don't want to put to much and not make it interesting, not all will be lengthy like this. ~ WR:Le

P.S. / what would you name your daughter?

Posted late (School stuff)