#children's short story

[lazylittledragon]

what do you mean youre technically a detransitioner cause of terf bullshit?

it's a v long story but i detransitioned for a couple of years when i was 16/17, for multiple reasons but mostly because i fell into the blaire white/kalvin garrah chamber of "you have to be This way to be trans otherwise you're not real".

i was already Deeply insecure about myself and my 'passing' and i was led to believe that i couldn't want to wear makeup or skirts, and i couldn't choose not to have bottom surgery, and i couldn't do anything but bind for 12+ hours a day to the point that my ribcage is still misshapen. basically i thought that if i wasn't suffering enough doing 'feminine' things, i couldn't really be trans, so i should just go back to being a girl and suck it up.

the terf bullshit is because i'd seen a lot of terfs/detransitioners talking about the 'dangers' of testosterone and how it would turn me into a horrible ugly evil monster and how there was nothing worse than wanting to be a man. which combined with 'you need to fully medically transition to be valid at all' creates some very dangerous and upsetting feelings to cope with.

it also came from trying really hard to put myself in a little box before i realised that my sexuality/gender are very fluid and it's FINE for me not to have a label and just do whatever i want. when i was 19 or so i went back to using they/them (and eventually he/him) and changed my name again because even though i like doing 'feminine' things, i don't want to be seen as a woman.

tldr: i was conditioned by transphobic/terf rhetorics to think that i was being trans the 'wrong' way so i couldn't be trans at all, so i believed i must actually be a girl if i still wanted to do 'feminine' things. nowadays i am a transmasc who does feminine things because i don't give two shits about what any transmed prick thinks of me anymore.

[fullmetal-scar-simping]

Average fma fan talking about 03 positively: Man, it's such a miracle that the 2003 anime is written even halfway decently! After all, the writers who, as we know, have never written anything in their lives before [citation needed], they had to work while locked in individual underground cells [citation needed], only fed scraps of fma lore by Arakawa herself [citation needed] while her story was actually fully formed by the first printing of her manga in Monthly Shonen Gangan [citation needed] but they were adapting the initial first volume of manga and oopsy-daisy shot past it [citation needed], so they made up every plot beat, character arc, storyboard, and lore change completely on the fly and very randomly [citation needed]. Even though they tried to 1:1 adapt her story [citation needed, contradicted by existing sources], they fumbled the job and butchered her story, characters, and lore. Arakawa sagely forgave them [citation needed]. But somehow it's a cohesive story?! Wow! Even though the story is sad, dark, scares me, makes me cry, violent, gorey, and my fave ships aren't endgame, so -50 demerits. Still, good job team! A treat! A treat for the monkeys working the typewriters at Studio Bones circa 2002-2004! #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood

[black-suns-rim]

Valley Family Portrait (Ethereal star AU)

Before the twins were the elders of their realm, their mother, the Priestess, was it's elder. Her children were kept a secret from the valley and the other realms until her passing...

bonus art and short story under the cut:

In the valley light temple “Mother warned us about you…” Mek sneered.

“Did she now?” The king stood behind the two siblings as they were kneeling at an alter, “Well, the priestess was never fond of me… so it’s not surprising.”

“You know you’re not welcomed here. You may be a king, but you’re not our king.” Sah stood up to face Resh, but he didn’t realize just how massive the king was, “you should leave.” Sah tried to sound threatening.

“May I offer my condolences before I leave?” He gestured to the alter the twins had been grieving at. They both hesitated before nodding. The King kneeled down in front of the priestess’s alter, pulling out a white candle. He lit it with his light magic and placed it in front of the alter. He bowed his head as he uttered a prayer. The twins could only hear parts of the prayer. Once he was done, he turned his attention to the siblings.

“Though she may not have liked me, I admired her and her teachings. I know she believed that I was getting rid of our traditions with my advances, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. We both shared the same goal you see, but it’s my methods she just didn’t approve… when I heard of her passing, I knew I had to visit her alter, though I knew I wouldn’t be welcomed here.” He spoke quietly in a soft tone.

The twins couldn’t help but listen as he spoke, “I also wanted to offer the both of you what I had offered your mother many years ago. That is if you’re willing to listen to what I have to offer.”

The two sat in silence and looked at each other, then to the king. They were curious but at the same time, they were slightly offended he had brought this up here. They whispered to each other for a while before agreeing on something.

“We’ll listen to what you have to say, but if we don’t like it, you can’t ever come back here.” Mek turned to face Resh.

“Understandable.” The king stood up, “What if I could offer your realm advanced medicines, technology and knowledge gathered from the other realms? In return, your realm becomes a part of my kingdom and you’ll have my protection. You’ll still have a say over your realm, but I’ll have the final word.”

The siblings whispered to each other, “exactly what kind of advanced medicines would you be able to offer?” Sah asked.

“Remedies that would heal illnesses, surgeries that can save a life, or improve one and much more.” He paused, “I could even offer a surgery that would give you and your sister a second arm…”

The two of them stared at Resh In disbelief. They were wearing cloaks, so there could be no way he would’ve seen… “How did you know…?” Samekh both were standing now.

“It would be rude of me not to come here without knowing who I was talking to… though it was hard finding anything out about you two. Your mother kept you two well hidden from the public, did she? But it was only to protect you, wasn’t it?”

Before they could have a chance to respond, he continued, “I heard you two love to play sports. I could offer you a chance to get the recognition you deserved. Champions of the arts. My champions even..." he paused and placed a hand on their shoulders, "Imagine a stadium full of your fans, cheering you on. The glory, the fame, the honor... All of this only if you accept to become a part of my kingdom.”

Samekh felt excited by his offers. They whispered with each other for a long time before asking him many questions. The more answers they got from the king, the more they felt excited.

“So, do you accept my offer?”

“Yes. We do.” Samekh was quick to answer.

Resh grinned under his mask, “Wonderful!” He gestured over one of his advisers who had been standing far back. They handed him a stone tablet, “I need both of your signatures for this agreement.” They were quick to sign, not bothering to read what was written on the stone.

“Next week, I’m having a meeting with all the realm leaders. You two will be sent an invitation on the location and time. We can discuss and plan further what changes will happen in your realm. We can also discuss your personal matters afterwards. For now, I’ll leave you two with these.” He handed them a couple of stone tablets with information on them pertaining specifics of what he’d mentioned.

“Welcome to the kingdom.”

[yasmeensh]

I finished reading 4 books from Earth's Children series. The last three were really hard to read. After finishing Plains of Passage, I have come to really appreciate Clan of the Cave Bear as a standalone. I miss all the Neanderthals and Ayla's character arc. Gotta do some fanart!

PS. I MISS IZA! Best character in the series.

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

Something rubbed against his leg beneath the table. Jon saw red eyes staring up at him. “Hungry again?” he asked. There was still half a honeyed chicken in the center of the table. Jon reached out to tear off a leg, then had a better idea. He knifed the bird whole and let the carcass slide to the floor between his legs. Ghost ripped into it in savage silence. His brothers and sisters had not been permitted to bring their wolves to the banquet, but there were more curs than Jon could count at this end of the hall, and no one had said a word about his pup. He told himself he was fortunate in that too. His eyes stung. Jon rubbed at them savagely, cursing the smoke. He swallowed another gulp of wine and watched his direwolf devour the chicken. Dogs moved between the tables, trailing after the serving girls. One of them, a black mongrel bitch with long yellow eyes, caught a scent of the chicken. She stopped and edged under the bench to get a share. Jon watched the confrontation. The bitch growled low in her throat and moved closer. Ghost looked up, silent, and fixed the dog with those hot red eyes. The bitch snapped an angry challenge. She was three times the size of the direwolf pup. Ghost did not move. He stood over his prize and opened his mouth, baring his fangs. The bitch tensed, barked again, then thought better of this fight. She turned and slunk away, with one last defiant snap to save her pride. Ghost went back to his meal. Jon grinned and reached under the table to ruffle the shaggy white fur. The direwolf looked up at him, nipped gently at his hand, then went back to eating.

Jon I, AGOT

It's interesting that GRRM would dedicate several paragraphs to a seemingly unimportant exchange between a boy, his wolf, and an unfriendly third party. But there's just something about this passage that has continued to nag at me for years since I first read it because, considering how heavy handed GRRM was with the foreshadowing in AGOT, this feels important.

Jon is sitting at table full of squires - aka would be knights. We don't really know who they are or what families they belong to, but it's safe to assume that they come from a certain level of privilege; this is considering the fact that it cannot be financially easy to be a squire. And these boys already have a slew of tales detailing all their previous knightly exploits regarding "battle and bedding and the hunt" which suggests that they have some capital. So you have boys who will soon be men. And they will, presumably, become men of some power.

These lads eat their fill of the chicken until only half remains, which Jon then gives to Ghost. The direwolf's name is not so important here but what he represents is. Throughout the series, we're told that Ghost is reminiscent of the weirwood trees (because of his red eyes and white fur). He's stated to be of and from the Old Gods and since he's a personification of the weirwoods, he might as well be one of them. It's almost as if Jon is presenting whatever is left on the table to the Old Gods (Ghost). He lets them devour his offerings while he silently watches. And the motif of watching is so interesting here because it's kind of like Jon takes on a stewardship role - to watch over land/people/etc. He oversees Ghost eating the chicken, so he's overseeing whatever has been given to the Old Gods. This is not new imagery to his arc. As a brother of the Night's Watch and eventually its leader, we have several instances where he leads people to adopting the Old Gods in some fashion. In ADWD, several recruits swear their vows to the Old Gods while he watches on as their Lord Commander. The Old Gods are also primarily of the North and we're told that Jon has more of the north in him than his brothers; interesting that this also includes Bran. So perhaps whatever is being offered to the Old Gods relates to the North.

We must also note that Jon initially thinks to give only a small portion, a leg, before pivoting and providing the entire thing. It feels to me a bit like the process of carving up a kingdom or something similar. The lords (represented by the squires) take what they want and leave aside what they don't; or perhaps they have eaten to their fill and can take no more. Then when his time comes, Jon first considers a small piece of land/group of people before eventually absorbing all of whatever is left behind. The concept of carving up a kingdom rings harder considering that we have several callbacks to the ideals of kingship in this chapter. Robert, Jaime, Tyrion, and even Mance though we don't know it yet, all play into this. And then there's the aspect of Jon letting the chicken slip between his legs which evokes birth/fatherhood, a very curious choice when GRRM could've just had Jon place the chicken on the floor. So land/people are carved up and Jon then uses whatever is left to birth his own type of kingdom. And this kingdom is one for the Old Gods.

This also touches on something that has been quite prevalent throughout Jon's arc. It's the concept of accepting the "others" or "those left over" who live apart from the accepted social norms. Arya (a tomboy), Sam (a gender non-confirming boy), the Night's Watch (criminals, extra sons, and men who have no future left or place to go), and even the wildlings are all examples of this. And Jon takes on a leadership/paternal role to every single one of them. He looks after them as a leader would/should. Sometimes, in the case of Arya and the wildlings, he's equated to a king. He's a steward/shepherd/king. There's messianic undertones to this:

Come unto me, all you who are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." (Matthew 11:28-30).

If you're familiar with Judeo-Christian tradition, you'll know that Jesus is often personified as one who spent the majority his time among the outcasts. The idea is that he came to save them too and that anew kingdom (or new earth depending on your translation) would spring up after the end of the world where he would forever rule as king; which presents the idea of a final king after the earthly ones are done away with. Now GRRM isn't so heavy handed with Christian allusions as other authors out there, but he does have a Catholic background and Jon is so overtly a Jesus figure. And in Revelation, Jesus is king and god at the very end....

One last thing: the mention of the mongrel who challenges Jon has always been rather interesting but confusing to me. A mongrel doesn't really relate to one specific type of dog. But it's interesting that Jon notes several roaming about where he is. They follow the serving girls who carry the food to be offered. Mongrels are used to describe antagonist/villainous groups in ASOIAF. Sometimes, they're used to describe slavers in Essos. But what's interesting is that most of the time, they're used to describe Euron's Ironborn especially in Victorian's POV. So I don't think the mongrel who challenges Ghost is a supernatural threat of death (i.e., the Others) but rather a human one. They represent those who are called to the scene once the lords have finished playing their games. It almost feels like a feast for (carrion) crows....

But it doesn't really matter because this mongrel isn't much of a challenge for Ghost. Though the mongrel is much larger, the direwolf is able to fend her off very effortlessly. Given that "mongrel" is used to describe Ironborn raiders, could this exchange between Ghost and the mongrel point to reavers or sea raiders who rise and fail challenge Jon kingdom? There is a historical King Jon Stark who did this....

When sea raiders landed in the east, Jon drove them out and built a castle, the Wolf's Den, at the mouth of the White Knife, so as to be able to defend the mouth of the river.[1][2] His son, Rickard, followed him on the throne and annexed the Neck to the north.

ref.

So this might shed some light not only on Jon's already published arc, but also on what we can expect in the future. We have some foreshadowing through Jon's ADWD dream that he will not only rise with the dawn (thereby live through the Long Night), but will be in a position to lead people (wildings in that chapter) to a new peace after a hard fought war. Also remember that the wildlings, rather enthusiastically, swear oaths to him as if swearing oaths to their king. In this instance, the supernatural (a dream of the war for the dawn) is followed by the natural/human. So perhaps this particular passage (and Jon's dream) can be used to predict that Jon comes out on top, and quite effortlessly too, as a leader. And he becomes a leader who rules by association with the Old Gods; or rules a kingdom for them.

To end, I think it's of note that this passage immediately precedes Jon's conversation with Benjen where he voices his desire to go out on his own - the hero's call to action. This is the adventure that's going to kickstart his growth as a man, warrior and most importantly, a leader. So it looks like before we even began, GRRM telegraphed how it would all end in just three short paragraphs.

[wronghands1]

[haveyoureadthisbook-poll]

[laurelslegacy]

doodles

“You’re artistic?!” the voice was shocked, the carrier, shocked and quickly slamming the padges of the book shut. Sabine reaching- or tried to- over Zeb’s shoulder. “Oh no you don’t!!” she was persistent- like any Mandalorian.

Zeb’s longer reach helped. “I am NOT!” he hissed at her, his long reach however did not deter the young woman who simply used Zeb’s arm and his strength to half crawl over his arm and grab at the tattered covered spiral ring book and yank it from him. A roll and a foot kept him at bay as she flipped through the pages. “GIVE THAT BACK” He growled, this was something he suspected of Ezra- NOT Sabine.

“Zeb… these are beautiful.” the purity in her voice, paused the Lasat. She flipped the page and her fingers ran over the ink stained pages, sketches of the Ghost Crew, Kanan, Hera… HER even. Trained, refined, at her level- no….but the scratch marked portraits of her little family in everyday life was… beautiful. She knew Zeb worked with wood, clearly more of a sculpture than a fine artist… but these were wonderful. She flipped a few pages and saw the faces of Lasat sketched out and her eyes started to burn closing the sketch book as if she had been burnt and offered it out to Zeb. “I…. I’m sorry.”

Zeb looked heavy. Ears down and he took the book from Sabine trying to offer a smile that was willed to his face “Thanks fer that. ‘S all good.” he gave the lightest bump of his forehead to her’s and kept that willed smile.

[tell-them-the-north-remembers]

ELIA WEEK DAY II: ELIA AND HER SIBLINGS/PARENTS (DORAN AND ELIA)

Doran recalls it all as vividly as if it were yesterday.

The sun shines amid a cloudless sky, the raucous sounds of children's chatter fill his ears and the cold water wets the hem of his robe with a splash each time a child dashes by. I might as well be a father, he thinks as he watches his little sister playing with the other children in the Water Gardens —as is the duty given to him by mother.

"Hey little sister, what is it you wish?" was one of my short fics for the pre-elia week challenge and here I leave it for all of you that have not read it or wish to read it again! --> on AO3

[aroaceleovaldez]

new TSATS prediction based entirely off the interview from the UK Rick Riordan newsletter

[divi-138]

Little story I did for class

The process took a long long time tho

[black-suns-rim]

Shattered Cyrstal - The shattering

Short story. This may become a series, so let's say this is part 1.

Warning: death, graphic imagery

Everything's a blur...

"Ugh.. everything hurts... what happened?" The large figure tried to get up. He winced in pain and held his side as he slowly sat on his knees. He held his head as his ears rang loudly through his head. He looked up to see the quart room, once white and gold, now in a red light. The stone pillars that were once decorated now were broken, chipped and cracked. Stone fragments laid on the ground along with the statues of past Light Priests.

His eyes slowly began to focus and the ringing in his ears ceased. "No... no, no, no..." Stone shards rained down from the sky as he got up, grunting in pain, ducking for safety. "The crystal..." He didn't believe what he saw. He had to look again. He had to see if his eyes were telling the truth. Peeking out from his safe cover, he saw it; red, violently spinning and shooting out shards. The same shards that were falling from the sky. The crystal that once was made of pure light, it was no more.

He leaned his back up against the pillar he was hiding behind, "this can't be... how?.." He noticed something odd amongst the broken stone as he was trying to recall the events that happened before this. He squinted his eyes to try and see more clear. His heart sank as he realized what he was staring at and then all his memories came flooding back to him. The events became clear in his mind before he was knocked out.

The screaming, he heard it now, all around him. His senses were heighted as his heart began to thump within his chest. A Light Priest was crawling on the floor, injured serverly, trying to get to cover when a shard fell from the sky and hit them. He witness the Light Preist get Impaled and turn to stone. He gasped as he looked around in panic. Remembering everyone who was in the quart room with him before the crystal shattered.

"Alef! ALEF!?" He left his safety as he desperately called out, "ALEF! MY SON! WHERE ARE YOU!?" He winced and limped, taking cover when he needed to. The shards were shooting out of the reddened and broken crystal in timed periods. "ALEF!" He called out once more. He traveld closer to the crystal where the shards became more frequent, "ALEF! AL- Alef...? Alef!" He ran to the stone body that bore his son's clothing.

"No, no, no, NO, NO!" His voice cracked and shook as he fell to his knees at the small cold stone statue body. He picked it up, "No! My Alef! This can't be! My boy..? No... my Alef..." He held the stiff body in his hands as he began to weep. His son was small enough to fit in his hands, but was larger than any other child of the kingdom since he was of royal blood.

He was out in the open and the shards fell on him, but he ignored the pain. The adrenaline was high and he didn't believe what he was holding to be his son, "This can't be you?... no, you were here! You were here..."

He held the stone body close to his chest, not wanting to believe it was him. But he still weped. The shards pelted him for a while before someone began to shout for him.

"MY KING? MY KING!" He didn't hear the strained small voice over his weeping and the sound of the shards hitting the ground, the pillars, the statues and so on.

"Oh my Alef, my sweet Alef..." He kept repeating.

"MY KING!" The small voice became louder as it came closer. He heard the voice and recognized who it was.

"He's dead..." He choked back tears, his voice not loud enough for them to hear.

"My king?..."

"HE'S DEAD! My little boy! My Alef, he's gone!" He cried out.

The small figure stood behind the hunched over king. They stammered, trying to speak and hearing how heartbroken he was, "King Resh, we need to get out of here. It's not safe."

Another figure appeared behind him, limping with a large battle spear in his hands, using it as a crutch, "My King, Lamed is right. It's not safe here, we need to get out."

"Tsadi... Lamed... where are the others?..." He turned to face them. He saw the both were injured, Tsadi more than Lamed.

"They are out of the storm and safe. We tried to rescue as many as we could while you were knocked out. We didn't know if you would even wake up..." Tsadi hesitated, "Alef... he refused to go to safety... He... He saved as many as he could. Your son was brave... and a true leader."

"My king, you're injured, we need to leave before it gets any worse." Lamed pleaded. Resh was silent as he held onto the stone body of his son. The giant king stood up to his full height, gripping his side under his cloak as he did so. He looked down at his two friends. The shards came down again, hitting his back. This time he felt it and grunted in pain.

"With the rest of my strength, I will get us out of here." Resh tucked away the small stone body of his son into one of the many pockets. He picked up Lamed and Tsadi as if they were just toddlers, and with what little light magic he had left, the king charge up his cape. As if his cape were a pair of wings, he used it to shoot up into the air like a bird.

The light magic he had left was enough to keep them in flight until they were able to reach safety, where the other injured were taken. King Resh landed, stumbling before letting go of Lamed and Tsadi. He felt light headed and his vision faded to black before he fell over. When his body hit the floor, the ground beneath everyone shook.

"MY KING!" Tsadi yelled, "GET A HEALER OVER HERE, NOW!" Tsadi went up to Resh. He noticed strange dark shards coming out from the king. He didn't like the look of them. At least 3 healers ran over to the king to come to his aid.

Tsadi backed away as the healers began their work. He sat down on a stone bench and held his head. Lamed sat right next to him and placed a hand on his arm, "you should get looked at, you are far worse than the others."

"I won't be looked at until everyone else has been taken care of. Including you." His tone was soft but stern.

"As you wish..." She left and went to any available healer. Tsadi watched as the many healers frantically went forth and back to as many as they could. People were howling from sorrow and loss, others cried from pain. It heart is heart to hear all the pain. He spotted the other Realm Elders being treated which somewhat put him at ease.

Tsadi stood up and limped his way to a healer to be looked at. Daleth had watched Tsadi arrive with Lamed and the King before he had fainted from the injuries he obtained. Daleth's arm was broken and placed into a sling that hung from his back. The old Realm Elder slowly made his way to Tsadi and sat right next to him as he was being treated. Tsadi took notice of Daleth but didn't say a word. They sat together in silence as they watched the healers bring in an extremely large transportation boat for the king.

"Who knew this would happen..." Daleth broke the silence.

"Yeah... How are the twins, Teth and Ayin doing? Any bad injuries?"

"Broken arms, legs, ribs and concussions. The twins had to be sedated because they wouldn't stop moving while the healers tried to work on them." Daleth coughed and winced.

"Figures. They are young and don't know how to deal with pain like we do." Tsadi glanced at the old man while a healer was stitching his arm up.

"They could learn a lesson from you about dealing with physical pain." Daleth stood up.

"They could. But they wouldn't have the patience like I did when I went through my training."

"True. Take care, Tsadi. I'm going to aid the healers." Tsadi nodded as Daleth left. He looked up to the mountain the crystal was kept on. A violent storm was forming around it and he had a horrible feeling this was only the beginning of something far worse.

[yasmeensh]

Paleolithic Media Catalogue

Hello everyone :) Short story first: When I began brainstorming for my prehistoric story, I started wondering what other prehistoric fiction there is out there. I was not familiar with it and have not seen much. That's when I started my grand literature review and began a search for what fiction exist out there. I wanted to know what kinds of stories are being made with this time period. What are the common themes or recurring ideas (I found lots of humans and dinosaurs works. And time travel). Since I've had a growing collection on my computer, I decided I should keep on enlarging it and put it online. It's nowhere near complete. I'll slowly keep accumulating the collection as I find more. I only have fiction books and comics right now. I still need to work on the film section.

You can access the blog here!

***

As for where I am in my reading, the one's I've finished reading are Earth's Children series (book 1-4. Dropped it afterwards lol. I made a post on with fanart) Dance of the Tiger and it's sequel Singletusk (They were good! I'll upload my review on the blog), and Sisters of the Wolf (It was ok!). I got my hands on The Inheritors and excited to start reading it. I REALLY want to read the Shiva trilogy, but I found no PDF online... and it's out of print :( There is certainly old copies on ebay. And I want to read Chronicles of Ancient Darkness. There seem to be lots of good books out there.

[hexotoner]

So, I made a short story based in certain song.

I hope you enjoy!

Come Little children...

Each kind of monster has a story to explain their origin, the wise have come to the conclusion that the great colossals brought their creativity to our creation, however, among the true and legends of others there are our own, ignored by others, for us a reality that remains after generations like bedtime stories for our monsterlings; like several stories it has changed, at this point we do not know how the real story was, even so the most popular and accurate version is always told. One thing is certain, in every story, in every legend something never changes, the song which it all began.

Before the great Dawn of fire, when the colossals gave life to a home for all. The celestials, the protectors of these elements, dedicated themselves to guiding and protecting the creations, however, among so much joy one of them made himself heard; The colossals had forgotten his element, they forgot to create life for the shadow and darkness. Even his pleas were not heard because the element was seen as useless and weak, especially in the face of the power of the fire, so powerful and brilliant. The jealousy was expected...

That celestial, immersed in humiliation and rejection, devised a plan

One night, peace reigned among the natural monsters; After a long time of incubation, the hatching season had begun, so many monsterlings had just hatched along with their brothers from years past. A night of calm between parents and children who sleep next to them.

Suddenly, as the moon rose high, Shadowed Glare shone; A sweet and deep voice began to sing along with the music of a piano, a song that we remember to this day:

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

"Come Little children

I'll Take Thee Away, Into A Land

Of Enchantment

Come Little Children

The Time's Come To Play

Here In My Garden

Of Shadows"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The memories are vague, hypnotized by the sweet sound of his song. Every monsterling, newborn and young, was called to follow that voice across the continent. Each monster of earth, cold, water, plant, air or fire; each little one was called. They were guided to the highest and nearest cliff, where the celestial awaited them.

One by one, under the light of the moon and the control of the shadows, they fell from the cliff. Fear covered some who feared a fatal destiny... Then, the celestial raising his hand called to the fallen, they began to fly. Young monsters as dark as the night opened their wings and took flight towards the moon, the other little ones then realized that under the protection of darkness nothing would happen to them. It continued like this all night.

His sweet song, so hypnotizing and beautiful, came to an end, on the other side of the sky the great and dazzling sun was present, its light woke up the unsuspecting parents giving them the news that their little ones have disappeared. Meanwhile, that celestial, giving his last verse, lowered the immense and elegant moon to its ancestral rest; The few monsterlings that remained were quick to fall and fly towards that beauty and brilliant.

A little tweedle did not want to fly, cursed with the lack of its wing at birth, it approached to the celestial, afraid of falling. When he saw it, he smiled, taking it in his hands and covering its wing. The sun approaches, the parents scream and run guided by the sun toward the dark end of their little ones. That celestial threw the tweedle off the cliff... And it flew, the last monster of the shadows took flight accompanied by the celestial who guided it to the Moon, which has already hidden.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

"Come Little Children

The Time's Come To Play

Here In My Garden

Of Shadows"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

It was the last thing that was heard in the echo of that cliff

The next day the continent was silent, an entire generation had disappeared into the darkness. For years the monsters refused to sing until the story was forgotten and ignored...

What happened to that celestial? Every day he smiled, looking at those who could not do anything, at the fire celestial that could not illuminate the night and now his people were in despair and silence.

"This is a story that I like to remember, there is nothing physical to prove it, the original grumpyres have perished naturally, their descendants vaguely remember the story. However, I know what I once saw, the memory of what I lived. No matter how much time passes, my wing has never felt better. Still, I miss the purple of my old feathers."

[specialagentartemis]

tumblr refreshed and I lost the nostalgic list of Fucked Up Short Stories We Read In High School so: yes I read all of these in English class between the ages of 11 and 17 or so. Yes some of 'em still haunt me to this day.