#shes been chasing flies in the back garden ^_^

[iridescent-x-pixie]

[nvuy]

im like itching for a boothill x single parent romance. LIKE WHAT IF they moved in next to boothill and everyones like "naww dont go near that guy hes scary and shit" but when kid sees boothill they get so intrigued by boothill they try to get close to him every time they see and hes just... scared? or paranoid, so he doesnt let them close. and then one time kid was still asking questions to boothill and stuff, parent was rushing looking for them, they see them, and then goes like "omf sir im so sorry my kid bothered you" and then boothill is like "nah its ok id do anyt- no what i mean we just met its cool btw lmao"

yk that one scene in a goofy movie where max get laughed at on the bleachers and then roxanne comes and picks him up and asks if he’s alright and then max starts babbling absolute gibberish yep

“So, how strong are you, mister?”

Boothill’s fingers are pressed against the girl’s tiny tiny hands. So small and little and squishy, and he seriously contemplated squishing her until she popped. His palm is cold against hers, and she giggles at the difference in size.

“Hmm…” He leans back on his heels in his squatting position in the front garden. He taps his chin in thought. “Don’t gotta clue. Anythin’ you need me to pick up?”

The girl gasps and there’s stars in her eyes. “Can you pick me up?” She stretches out her arms towards him.

He cracks a grin at her and ruffles her hair. “I dunno. You might be a bit heavy.” He’s teasing her, of course, but she pouts.

“At least try.”

“Alright, little lady.” He hooks his arms underneath hers and hoists her up easily, hands locked at her ribs. “How’s that? Good enough for ya?”

She hums thoughtfully, a cheeky smile on her face as she, too, taps her chin. “Now you gotta carry me for the entire day.”

It was his turn to pout. “N’aw. That’s no fair.”

“There you are!” There’s a rustle of footsteps and the jangling of keys to his left that made him stiffen for a moment, before your familiar face comes into view. Your eyes flit from him to your daughter. “I’ve been calling you for lunch.”

Oh, great Heavens.

“Hi, gorg– uh…” The ranger stumbles over his tongue and zips his lips shut when a small smile stretches into your lips. “We were– I was just– uh…”

Your daughter looks upset when Boothill gently places her back down in the grass.

“Just horsin’ ‘round,” he finishes. “I was just passin’ by, y’see? And your lil’ princess chased me down.”

You clear your throat, staring down at your shoes for a moment and trying to hide the heat rising from your neck to your face.

“I’m sorry about her,” you say to him. “She’s, um… hard to control.”

“That’s a good thing,” he whispers down to your daughter. “Means you got a free spirit.” He pokes her in the side and she giggles.

You give him another look and his eyes snap to the left, and a casual tune leaves his lips in the form of a whistle.

You offer a hand to the girl. “I made pasta.”

Your daughter practically barrels into your side, almost knocking you over with how her small arms wrap around your hips—she used to only be able to reach your knees. God, time flies.

Your eyes flit to the ranger once more. “Um… I made a lot so… if you’re hungry…” Your eyes trail down to his stomach before you swallow. “Do you get hungry?”

He studies your face for a moment with a pensive look.

Then, Boothill snorts. “Nah, sugar.”

Your face is burning. “Right. Well, you’re welcome to come in, anyway.”

“Oh, please have lunch with us!” your daughter all but begs. Her hands have now interlocked in front of her in a pleading gesture, and she’s offering him her most intense puppy eyes. “I can show you my room.”

He’s immediately swayed. “Well, it’s hard to say no to a cute thing like you.” He reaches down and pinches her cheek.

He watches you blink, perhaps taken aback for a moment.

He thinks you’re so beautiful, even if the apron you’re wearing is covered in sauce stains.

He almost starts cheering when you visibly perk up. “You’ll join us?”

“’Course! I’d do anythin’ for y–” He stops himself by digging his teeth into his tongue. “I mean… if ya insist.”

He can tell you’re biting the inside of your cheeks to keep yourself from smiling too wide. You pucker your lips and look elsewhere, face dark with blood.

Your daughter is strangely silent. He notices she’s enamoured with a bright blue butterfly floating along one of the bushes nearby.

“Cool.” You can’t think of anything else to really say. You rock on your heels absentmindedly. “I’d like that.”

His smile grows impossibly wider. “Would ya now?” He taps your nose once before he bends down to greet your daughter again. “Lead the way, little lady.”

“One sec,” you mumble, digging in your pockets.

You fumble for your ring of keys before you throw them quite badly at the cyborg. He manages to catch them well enough, fingers frozen over the steel.

Huh?

“It’s, um… the purple key. For the front door.”

Sure enough, one of the keys was coated in a deep purple.

Your daughter has already begun sprinting towards the front door. You’re half keeping a close eye on her through your peripherals, but your gaze wanders from her to watch him closely.

“I have a spare so… you can have it,” you continue slowly. Was this… too forward?

Boothill eyes you for a moment. A hand moves to his hips.

Then, in a flash, he pulls the purple key off of the ring it’s attached to and gently tosses it back at you. You struggle to catch them, but you manage with shaky hands and stuff them back into your pocket.

“‘Ppreciate it, pretty thing. You know just how to make a man swoon.”

He blows you a kiss with the steel to his lips and then tips his hat. He catches up with your daughter in no time, sweeping her off her feet and letting her slot the key in the lock to open the door.

You realise when he’s staring at you, one hand holding your own front door open expectantly, that you’re standing out in your front garden gawking at him like an idiot.

You quickly follow him inside, and he closes the door behind you. He’s quick to swing an arm around your waist when you guide him into the kitchen.

[stories-and-chaos]

Shrike: The Deal with Niffty; 1 Year Anniversary

[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” Ace x ace relationship, both parties are moderately sex favorable.]

[Part 2 with Niffty, word count 1446, Cw: bug genocide none]

———————

You counted the days, double checking on the Scenic Hell calendar pinned up in the kitchen. You didn’t mention anything until that evening; Niffty was literally underfoot all day. “Tomorrow will be one year from when you made the deal with Niffty, cher.”

Alastor paused in his nightly routine, counting in his head. “I suppose it is. Ah, how the time flies.”

“We should do something, celebrate a little.”

Your husband gave you a questioning smile in the reflection of your vanity mirror. “We’ve never done that for any other Sinner.”

“We haven’t had any other Sinner chase you for weeks to make a deal,” you pointed out logically. “But she is yours, Alastor, it’s up to you.” He hummed noncommittally as two of you settled in for the night.

In the morning, you woke to a warm buttery smell and the hiss of a hot pan. Alastor, wearing a black apron, was making hotcakes and sausages. Niffty, still dressed in her nightgown and rubbing sleep from her eye, wandered into the kitchen. She spotted Alastor at the stove and immediately skittered up to him.

“Sir! I’m supposed to make breakfast!” She shot up to his shoulder and tugged on one antler.

Alastor, usually despising that much physical contact, merely shrugged and twirled his spatula as dramatically as his cane. “Well my dear, Y/N reminded me it’s been one year since we struck our deal. So I decided we’ll have some fun today.” He plucked the little cyclops of his shoulder and deposited her on the stool next to the table.

She scampered down and climbed back up his side to perch on his head. “Ooo, what kind of fun?” Her grin turned feral as she watched him flip hotcakes.

He finished cooking and delivered both food and the little maid to the table. “We’ll figure that out together.” The three of you started eating before he continued. “So my dear, what would you like to do today?” Alastor asked Niffty as he cut into his sausage.

Niffty, her cheeks full of hotcakes and syrup, froze. Her giant eye pinned as she stared at Alastor. A minute passed, then she gulped down her mouthful of food before automatically shoveling another forkful of hotcakes into her mouth. You realized she probably never really thought about it, enthusiastic as she was about her work.

You savored a bite. “How about…” you mused aloud, “we find more bugs than the bayou has?” Niffty’s attention snapped to you as she smiled around her bite of breakfast.

Fed and caffeinated, the three of you walked to your proposed destination. Niffty traveled three times the distance as she dashed around you and Alastor, occasionally climbing up one of you for a better view.

Your destination was a moderate two story building with two large glass enclosures connected. The sign above the entrance read Infernal Insectorium. Niffty’s eye widened as she started giggling on Alastor’s shoulder.

“Y/N, are you certain of this? Our dear Niffty is sure to decimate the population,” Alastor asked with amusement. “If you want to put this establishment out of business, this is an original way of doing so.”

“Not to worry, cher.” You pulled him inside, paying the entrance fee for the three of you. Niffty climbed down and started to run off, but you snagged her blouse before she could. “This place breeds quite a few critters for various purposes. So much so that they have a special wing for removing the substandard ones.” The foyer led to the two wings; one was labeled Observation Room, the other Culling Room. Through the glass walls to both you could see lush indoor gardens.

You led the way to the Culling Room. There was a small room between the foyer and the garden with a door leading to each. Only one could be open at a time, preventing any insect escapes. There was a member of the staff stationed in the room to operate the doors and ensure the bugs stayed where they were meant to be.

Once inside, you let Niffty go. “Eeeeheheheheheeeee!” she laughed, skittering off the path to chase down her first victim. Alastor walked arm in arm with you, admiring the garden.

“However did this place come about? And how did you find out about it my dear?”

Your talons brushed a flowering vine aside. “Evidently this was originally an insect house, supplying silkworms, beetles and snails for dyes, in addition to the indoor garden. But so many visitors kept eating the insects on display, they decided to add this room and charge for the privilege.”

Niffty’s giggles and mutters of “stab, stab, stab” were joined by other chuckles and squeals as demons hunted down their tiny prey. As you rounded a corner you saw a pair of frog-like demons at a wrought iron table catching flying insects with their tongues while making eyes at each other.

“Quite resourceful,” Alastor commented. He spotted an open bench for you both to relax on as Niffty had her fun. He hummed contentedly, soft jazz music filling the area around him. The tiny cyclops dashed into view on occasion, wielding either her favorite chef’s knife or a needle as she scurried after various bugs. She brought ones she was particularly proud of to pile up on the bench “for her collection.”

Whenever a creepy crawly got too close to you or your husband, it found itself impaled by one of your talons. Depending on the bug, you’d either eat it or add it it a separate pile for someone else to indulge in. Even Niffty had a limit to her energy and after a few hours she plopped herself between the two of you. She sifted through her spoils, selecting her favorite specimens. The rest were added to the pile you made.

After her selection was carefully wrapped in a handkerchief and stowed in your handbag, Alastor decided it was time for a late lunch. Food refilled her well of energy and afterwards Niffty was skipping around him again. “Now then, anything else we should do today Niffty, Y/N?”

“Oh oh, I need supplies to display my collection!” Niffty said eagerly, bouncing rapidly. “This way guys!” She ran back and forth between Alastor and the nearest crossroads. She repeated this after every turn until she brought you all to a craft store. The purple spider demon behind the counter recognized the cyclops. “Long time no see Niffty! Where you been sweets?”

“Hi Cici! I’m working for Alastor now. We’re celebrating my one year anniversary!”

“Greetings! The name’s Alastor and this is my darling Y/N. Pleasure to meet you my dear, quite a pleasure,” he said, holding out his hand to shake.

Cici either recognized your husband’s name or voice. She shook his hand carefully and asked Niffty in a shaky voice, “You…you’re working for the Radio Demon?” Niffty responded with a quick and cheerful “yup!” before dashing down an aisle.

“Yes indeedy! She was quite insistent about working for me. Even after my darling whisked her away multiple times! We found her to be extremely persistent.”

“She wore us down,” you added. “It’s been an excellent decision in the end.”

Cici looked a bit less nervous. “Well, she has always liked bad boys.”

Niffty returned with a stack of items; frames, cloth, pins, and boards. “More shadow boxes sweets?” Cici started tallying things up.

“Uh huh! They took me bug hunting today! I’ve got lots of new friends for my collection,” she replied, her voice turning into a cackle at the end.

Alastor paid for the items and stored the lot in his shadow. “I believe we’ve had quite an enjoyable outing today. What say we head back?”

“‘Kay! Bye Cici, see ya later!” Niffty waved rapidly at her friend while bouncing out the door Alastor was holding for you both. You waved at the spider, saying “au revoir!” as you accepted Alastor’s arm.

Niffty continued to zip around the streets on the way home. But her energy started to flag again. A little over halfway, she started dozing off on Alastor’s shoulder. You scooped her up and placed her in your purse; you’d brought your largest in anticipation of this. Her bright red hair peeked out from the top of the bag.

“It has been a lovely diversion today, I must admit,” Alastor said as the sky began to darken.”

“Agreed. I have to say I’m glad Niffty was so persistent. She’s been an excellent addition to the household. And not just because she’s so willing to do housework.” Alastor didn’t reply, but the cheerful music that swelled as he hummed said enough.

——————

@whitewolfsoldat @edgyboi10000 @ch3sire-blu3 @clearly-awkward @badatpunz @bengewatch @chewbrry

[dope-trope-105]

cregan stark x rhaenyra’s daughter. she flies to winterfell to gather support for rhaneyra but she falls head over heels for cregan as well. could you add that she had a past relationship with aemond ( you don’t have to though)

Like Stormy Seas, Like Rough Clouds

Cregan Stark x Velaryon! (Strong) reader

A/N: The reader is still not completely over Aemond, but she realises he was not what she wanted, or she was not what he wanted. She has the typical Strong brown hair-brown eyes appearance.

Warnings: Strong language, abusive relationship, mentions of death, some angst.

Word count: 2.7k

The cold wind felt like daggers of dragonglass on your face as you gazed at the rough seas that surrounded your home. Dragonstone was not a cheerful place, the war had made it more glum. Your mother had locked herself up in her chambers the day Daemon came with the news of Lucerys’ death. You didn’t understand her pain, but your own crushed you inside. It broke your soul, took your joy, and rendered you unstable. The pain of losing a brother was great, but the pain of losing him to someone you once loved more than life itself tore at your entire being. You felt like a shell, your memories with him ran through your mind like a play. 

You had your eyes closed as you breathed in the scent of a flower you hadn’t seen in the gardens before, it smelled sweet, but different from the others. “My lady seems to be enjoying herself,” came the smooth voice of your uncle. “Tis’ not every day mother nature visits one with a new treat, uncle,” you said, holding the flower up to his slender face. “Letting your guard down like this for all to see? The stranger may send you one as well,” he said, mocking you but taking the flower from your hands nonetheless. “It’s sweet, isn’t it?” you asked. “I’ve known sweeter things,” he said, his eyes looking down upon you as he relished in the fact you knew what, or rather, who, he meant.

You remembered how you had craved his attention at the keep. You had been friends with Aemond when you were children, and you had felt yourself dangled in a noose between your love for him and your love for your family the day Lucerys butchered him. Aemond refused contact with you after that. You found yourself at the keep again as you turned ten and seven, your mother had wished for you to celebrate you becoming a mature woman with your grandsire. You chased Aemond like a lost pup for your entire month-long stay in the castle. Aemond played along. And his play became a reality as he found himself taking your maidenhead in his chambers one night. He had begun to love you. As much as a damaged man could.

“We cannot do this any longer,” you cried. “Do you not love me?” asked Aemond, his voice cold as his back was turned to you. The whole family had supper that day together. You sat beside Helaena next to the head of the table where Aemond sat. Jace had set his eyes upon you the entire time, sneaking you off to the side to ask you if something had occurred between you and your uncle. It had scared the soul out of you, and you had gone to the one person you admired so much you hoped he'd show you the way. Unfortunately for you, Aemond was set on doing anything but. “If my mother finds out-” “What of it?” he spoke over you. “I have claimed you,” he said. “No Lord would want a whore who’s been bedded by her uncle, no one will love you as I,” he said. Tears streamed down your face as each word he said came as a jab to your heart. “You do not mean that,” you said, wiping your tears as he turned. He opened his arms to you as you reluctantly found yourself in his embrace. “I mean every word I say, you are mine,” he whispered to you. “No one but I will love you,” he held you tight.

A heated discussion had been tearing the rocks of Dragonstone as Daemon wished for nothing but revenge. Who stood for the Queen, and who against? It was not clear. You had begged and begged to have your mother let you fight for her. She had ushered you to your chambers, you speaking for your rights as she refused over and over again. You only stopped asking at the shock of her harsh palm on your cheek. You held your face, looking at her with great confusion. “I will not lose another child, my only daughter to this war,” she had said, leaving you with a burning reminder on your face that you would never be allowed to fight for her. Your stomach churned at being called her only daughter, your mind reminding you of the little Visenya you would have loved, a little girl you would teach womanly things to, braid her hair, tell her she is no less than a man, teach her the histories and philosophies that made your world. Memories of all sorts ran haphazardly through your head, your sweet moments with Aemond, your tears for Lucerys, your step-father's anger towards your mother, and nothing seemed to calm your racing mind. The rough waves flowed on par with your thoughts. The ground rumbled beneath you as you turned around. “Sagon gīda, gēlenka,”  be calm, silver. You had claimed the magnificent Silverwing when you were only ten and three. She had been your everything since then. She was your anger, your wrath, your joy, and your fire. She was your dragon. And you mounted her in the dying light of the Sun taking off for the North. Your mother had said no, but after incessant begging from both you and Daemon, she had reluctantly agreed. 

You felt your fingers numb despite the layers of clothing you wore as you flew higher up North. You were a dragon, you were fire, and you weren’t made for the cold. Silverwing made her landing near the castle of Winterfell, the Northmen gazing at your dragon in awe as all men did. You wore a black dress, its sleeves up to your wrists and its neckline up to your jaw. Golden embroidery spread across the expanse of your chest. You wore a few layers under it, but it seemed to not save you from the biting winter one bit. Your dark hair was tied halfway up behind you, wild from your flight, gold resting amongst the dark strands. Your palms and fingers were raw and bleeding. You never wore riding gloves, and you suffered the consequences. You’d rather have raw palms than lose the sensorial bond between your dragon and yourself. 

SIlverwing had given your identity away as the guards opened the gates for you, offering you a slight bow. You nodded at them. You were escorted to where the Lord of the North sat. Your presence was announced as you entered the darkly lit hall. Cregan Stark was sitting on a high chair as he watched you walk to the centre of the room. 

“Good morrow, Princess, we are delighted to have you at Winterfell,” he said to you. “Good morrow to you as well, Lord Stark, I thank you for your graciousness,” you said. You knew power when you saw it. You saw it in your mother, the rightful heir to the Iron Throne. You saw it in your stepfather Daemon, the Rogue Prince, and a sliver of it in your past lover, Aemond. And now, you saw it in the wolfish man that sat in front of you. He was a large man, with skin like the snow and hair like onyx, matching stubble on his face. His eyes were grey like the storms you often saw at Dragonstone. 

“What brings you to the North, princess?” he asked. His voice was deep, holding the air of authority that made the young girl hidden under your burdened heart giddy. You cleared your throat, quieting your own thoughts, lifting a scroll in your hand as one of the guards came to collect it from you. 

“Lord Stark, as you are aware, your father, the late Lord Rickon Stark, had pledged fealty to my mother, the Queen. With the unfortunate passing of my Grandsire, my half-uncle has usurped the throne from my mother and claims to be King of the seven kingdoms. I’ve only come here to assure you remember your father’s oath,” you said. Your voice held confidence. Cregan had been watching you intently as you spoke, his eyes flicking to the scroll in his hands only once as he quickly scanned over the words. 

“Of course Princess, I will honour the oath my father pledged to your mother, House Stark is loyal to Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen. We will provide you with what you need at Raven’s ask, be it men or refuge, or be it our undying loyalty,” he said to you, with clarity in his voice like he didn’t need to go over this in his head for even a moment. 

“Thank you, for your support my Lord. I shall report this to my mother immediately,” you said, making a turn, readying yourself mentally for another long flight. “If you do not mind Princess, it is a harsh Night, why don’t you stay here at the Castle, you may fly on the morrow,” said the Lord. You thought it over. He was not wrong, the temperature would only get colder with the night. You did not wish to die from the cold before the war even concluded. “Then I will gladly make my stay here,” you said. 

The guards had led you to a room for the night. You sat near the fire, so close to the flames you believed the hair on your head would be scorched, and you almost thought you saw your fingers darkening with ash. Your head whipped to the door at a harsh knock. “Princess? May I come in?” came a voice. You knew it was Lord Stark. “Yes of course,” you said, smiling sheepishly when the door cracked open and his eyes landed on your crouched figure near the fire.

He chuckled, nodding to a woman behind him. The maid approached you, a blanket of fur lay in her hands. “Tis’ a coat for you, I had assumed the cold must be too trying of you,” he said, entering the chamber. You smiled at the maid, who quickly put the coat around you. “Not that I wish to seem meek, my Lord, you had assumed right. I fear I would’ve ended up falling into the hearth had you not brought me this surprisingly soft coat,” you said, eyes widening at the sheer delicate touch of the blanket of warmth on you. You took your place on a chair in front of him, though still remaining close to the fire. 

“I understand, cold like this does not suit all, especially those who are used to being around fire,” he said, a glint in his eye as he said it. You smiled at him. “I assume you’ve met Silverwing from afar,” you said. “She is a beautiful creature, although I fear I’m not one to see her for much beyond her ability to leave me nothing but a scorched corpse,” he said. “She will not hurt you, my lord, at least not in my presence,” you laughed, taking the glass of wine he poured you. “If you wish, I can arrange for supper here, it is only I in the castle,” he said. “If it isn’t too much trouble,” you requested. “Of course,” he said, calling out to one of the guards.

Moments later, some maids brought trays full of delicious bread and different meats and vegetables. The both of you ate in comfortable silence, occasionally exchanging words. There was something so simple in this moment, a comfort between the both of you that you hadn’t experienced in a while. “If you do not mind, may I ask you something?” he said. “Of course,” you replied, intrigued eyes looking up at him. “I’ve heard dragons have a close bond with their riders, it is said they can feel what their riders do, has anything as such been indicated to you by your own?” he asked. You thought it over for a moment.

Silverwing was very protective of you, but she would get more protective if you were on your bleed, she would get more aggressive when you were agitated, and she would make those purring sounds when you felt comfortable. And she despised Aemond. She hated him near herself, and near you. She never attempted to harm him, but she made her distaste of him quite obvious, same for most of your enemies. “In some ways, I believe it is true, her protectiveness and agitation in some situations do indicate what you say, but I do not believe this holds true for all dragons, only for some,” you said, and he nodded thoughtfully.

You gazed into his grey eyes, they were beautiful, not beautiful like the violet in your silver-haired family members, not prideful like Aemond’s, his eyes told stories of ships lost at stormy seas, of the rough clouds you flew through. His eyes showed curiosity and warmth, you felt like if you were to crawl into his arms, all would be well. You did not wish to sound like a silly girl one would view as nothing but a brood-mare of high status, but you wanted him to hold you and make you feel safe. You wanted him to tell you all would be right in the world, he would make it so. You wished to touch the soft hair on his face, to rest your head on his strong chest, to have him wrap his arms around you, to have him take your hands in his own. You felt so juvenile.

“What does flying feel like, princess?” he asked. “I could not say. It is the sheer terror of falling to death, freedom, and pleasure in solidarity, it makes me feel like a god, watching everything rendered so little from atop the sky. The sky looks so distinct above the clouds. It gets colder, the air lighter, breathing becomes more challenging, but the sky is so captivating, it is unlike anything you’ve seen,” you said. Lord Stark did not reply. He seemed to enjoy questioning you and thinking your answers over. All simple questions, but truly innocent. He did not have an evil sense behind his words. It was simple, like a warm fire licking at your skin in the snow-struck lands. There was no snark to decipher like the words of your stepfather, no mocking like your siblings, and no cunning like the words of the greens, no cunning like the words of Aemond. It was just curiosity, simple as that.

As he stood up to make his exit, you stood up as well. You looked up at him when he said, “You know princess, I would love to show the North to you, it is quite exquisite, though nothing compared to the sky above the clouds as you describe if you are willing to make your stay here longer,” he said. You smiled at him shyly. “I will think it over my lord,” you said.

You watched him leave, realising that since the moment you’d been in his presence, there was a calmness in your head. You did not feel the impending doom of war on you when you were busy staring into his eyes. A few maids came to remove the multiple layers of clothing from you, but you put on the coat again, curling yourself up in the blanket as well before you let sleep take you, and for once in a long time, you found yourself easily drifting to sleep in the comfort of the furs and your empty head. There was a warmth in your heart, and it almost made you want to stay in the North forever and forget about your duties, and your family. Maybe one day, when all of that was over, you could return to the North, to Lord Stark and ask for his hand in marriage. You would love to stay in the North, in a land white as clouds, in the warm arms of the warden of the North as you’d gaze upon his kingdom.

One day, you could learn what love truly meant, not obsession, not sly need, not a cunning need for control, love.

・．━━━━━━━━━━━━ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━．・

Hey guys, I've just started writing for some of these, I hope you like this one. I'd really appreciate it if you could comment on what I could do to make my writing better, but as of now, I hope you enjoy this, I'll try to post as soon as I can.

[muffinsin]

i read the getting choked by Cassandra’s cock at work and I’m feeling all hot n bothered. You’re stories really have an effect on me and they’re entertaining.

my request if you can, can you do a wholesome story of where Cassandra has nothing to do and decides to go and bother her female s/o that’s in the atelier room painting but her s/o suggest that she lay on her lap, Cassandra lays on her lap and watching her s/o painting and how the brush moves soothes her to sleep.

I believe you wrote one like this before and that’s all I can remember what happened.

Very glad to know my work creates such reactions! ;) Could it have been a part of hc’s regarding the sisters hobbies or fluff ones? I believe I’ve done both once! But absolutely! I love me some fluffy Cassandra!

Masterlist

Cassandra was beyond bored.

The prisoners were weak from her antics and barely had enough life left in them to scream. (She refused to acknowledge Bela’s light scolding for being too hard on them), all the weapons were still being cleaned and even so, the cold winter air would not allow her to go hunt either way.

Additionally, her sisters were busy. While it would be rare for her to annoy the blonde, often Daniela made for some fun times whenever she was bored. But even she was too busy to play chase or destroy some vases, instead all curled up in the library with another lame book.

Cassandra felt bored, and restless.

That was, thankfully, when she thought of you.

Being the skilled huntress she is, it was easy to track your unique scent in the castle, all the way until she found herself in the atelier room.

She smiled- the air was comfortable here, less stuffy than the rest of the castle. As much as the brunette appreciated her mother’s concerns regarding the temperature in the castle, it was getting slightly ridiculous!

She grinned when she saw you, swarming over to you all to happily.

You smiled as you felt her come up behind you, her hand set on your shoulder. You appreciated that she did not scare you, and grinned, a little shyly even, as you saw what had her so quiet.

Cassandra stared at the painting, taking in your picture of the castle gardens, before golden eyes settled on your hand and the brush, guided by gentle, precise fingers.

You continued painting over the same spot, enthralled by her reaction. You watched as her eyes grew heavy, eyelids dropping slightly as she watched you. As you held your breath, you heard silent purring from her flies. You grinned- if you were to mention them, you were sure she would be all up again, insisting it was merely her flies making noises as their wings brushed together.

You set the brush down, turning to her fully. Her head pulled back slightly- she was still unused of receiving someone’s full and undivided attention and love.

She blushed a little when you cupped her cheek and smiled at your laughter when you realized it was the wrong hand. The brunette stayed unusually still as you wiped the paint off her cheek with your fingertip. She was content to bask in the comfortable warmth of the room and situation a little longer.

“I’m bored”, she said eventually, her voice softer than usual. She had possibly never felt this comfortable. “Play with me?”, she asked, smiling when you stroked your thumb across her cheek.

“I’ll finish this, sugar, but then we can see what we can do”

She frowned, but was shushed when you leaned up and pulled her down by her cheek, pressing your lips to hers. “Why don’t you stay?”

She frowned in confusion that time. No one had ever asked her to stay.

She nodded quietly, unsure what you meant. Was she supposed to keep standing-?

Her silent question was answered when you patted your thigh. She grinned again. Looking behind her for a moment to ensure nobody else was in the room with you, she smiled and sank to the floor, resting her head on your warm lap.

Upon feeling your hand in her hair, she purred quietly. Her eyes found your other hand, the one holding the brush, again.

“I want to watch”, she protested when you moved the canvas.

“Just changing my canvas, darling. I’ve found my new muse”, you cooed. She blinked for a moment, then smirked as realization hit her. She watched you clean the brush and heard you hum, her cheek rested against your lap. She felt so comfortable.

You watched her for a moment before picking up your brush again and setting it down on the canvas. She watched as if enthralled, the usually so hectic mind of the huntress now completely calm.

She felt her eyelids drop every few seconds. It felt so difficult to stay awake, especially with your fingers sliding along her head, nails scraping her scalp a little and making her purr louder.

You turned your head after a little while, frowning at the silent snores that were barely louder than your hums. The woman was fast asleep on your lap, her cheek smudged against your thighs, one arm slung across her stomach, the other hand on your thigh, claws hooked in slightly so it wouldn’t slip.

More time passed, although you were unsure how much. The brunette kept sleeping on your lap all too happily.

You glanced at your canvas, finding the sleeping woman drawn on it. You grinned, adding the tip of her tongue that poked out as she slept. It would become a routine to dedicate a little time twice a week for such moments.

[soapyakships]

hello soapy ak ships ive been taking a break from researching ancient tomes and started spending more time with the deer outside theyre actually very friendly save for the eating of my flowers in the garden which i worked very hard to grow so its a little unfortunate but the deer seem to be very happy anyways my cat has become obsessed with chasing small flies and bugs im not sure why shes doing that but its not like it interrupts my work anyways ive been trying to build up the courage to go back into the forest and harvest more carrots for the deer so theyll stop eating my plants but if youll remember the last time i went there i saw this really pretty lady and to be honest pretty women kind of scare me and i at least want to learn the basics of her ancient language in order to talk to her because i feel like its the right thing to do but its just so hard to find the right resources anyway keep up the great work

my username is pronounced soap yak ships

[trekkele]

Baby Bruce finds an injured bat outside his window and nurses it back to health despite his bat-phobia (sweet, fluff, aww)

The same happens but the bat DIES (slight angst but still aww)

The same still happens but Alfred finds it and carries it outside because, hello??? Bruce?? It might have various diseases. Bruce finds it dead the next day (angst and ouch)

The same STILL happens but he finds it already dead inside his room. At night. Because of the smell. He doesn't get Alfred because he decides he's gonna be a big boy now and deal with it on his own and so what if he's scared? And so what if his knees tremble and the one time he got it on a piece of cardboard, his hands shook so much he dropped it and couldn't bring himself to try again? It's still there the next morning and Bruce hasn't slept a second, staring at it, wondering if he's doing the same thing everyone who walked past his dying parents did... (ANGST ANGST ANGST)

Choose whatever prompt you want, wish you a great time <3

(sorry, I'm only capable of angst prompts right now apparently)

All of these are so good oh no

Bruce did not like the noises in the garden.

Mam- Mother had always said they were lucky, to live where they could hear birds and butterflies and bugs instead of the incessant honking of impatient men in their impatient cars. She would sit with her eyes closed, waiting till Bruce got the fidgets and then sending him to chase a butterfly.

Bruce tried to stomp as loud as he could, muffled by the grass and careful little stones.

There was shadow on the ground, a tiny one, no bigger than his palm, and it was cheeping. Shadows, even in lucky gardens, didn’t usually make noises.

The gardener shuffled closer, probably making more noise then he had to. They all did, now. Probably because they wanted Bruce to run off and hide before they had to see his “sad moping face haunting their workspace”.

That’s what Uncle Phillip thought.

“That’s a little brown bat,” which Bruce thought was stupid, he could see it was little and brown and a bat, he was an orphan not an idiot, “must’ve hit a branch on the way home. Can’t tell if that wings broken or just bruised d’ya want me to check?”

Bruce wondered why the gardener kept chattering at him, like he didnt even care that Bruce was in his space and interrupting him.

“We can always let nature take its course,” he continued, almost gently, “and let the little guy figure it out on its own.”

“What do you think?” Bruce asked, and the gardener didn’t look surprised, almost like he didnt know the manor hadn’t heard Bruce for months. Which he did, the maids gossiped like flies.

“I think we’re big, and he’s small. Sometimes thats reason enough to step in.” Bruce thought, not taking his eyes off the bat. The gardener was wearing gloves, heavy and covered in dirt. He was moving the grass around where the bat lay, as if to get a better look at him.

Bruce thought about being small. About waiting for help. About waiting and waiting and crying and crying and nothing changing. Mami had loved nature. She had said that loving something and helping it be better were almost the same thing.

Maybe she had been wrong. The bat was still crying. The gardener was still waiting.

[justfacilitatinglife]

Squash, Seasons, and Skylar: A Family Tradition Through the Years

It feels like just yesterday I was chasing after Skylar as a toddler, and now, here she is—my growing, curious 3rd grader, standing tall next to a display of heirloom squash at the Heirloom Expo in Ventura. Yesterday, I had the chance to take her to the expo with her mom, and it was such a special day exploring rare varieties of fruits and vegetables, along with checking out the impressive poultry exhibit together.

But the moment that really stuck with me was when I snapped a photo of Skylar next to a vibrant squash display. It made me pause and think about how quickly time flies. As summer comes to an end, we find ourselves entering the reflective season of fall—a time of change and harvest. The shifting seasons always get me thinking about what to plant in my growing zone, and squash always finds its way to the top of the list.

It’s funny to look back through the years and realize how many times Skylar has posed next to a squash. It’s become a bit of an unintentional tradition. Each year, she grows taller, and the squash displays get more colorful, yet the joy of being out in nature, learning about the earth’s bounty, and spending time with my family never changes.

Fall has always been one of my favorite times of the year—a season of harvesting and preparing, of making plans for the next growing season. It’s a reminder of the cycles we go through—both in nature and in life. And as Skylar continues to grow, I’m grateful for these little moments that remind me to pause, reflect, and enjoy the harvest, both in my garden and in life.

Here’s to another season of growth and many more photos of Skylar, her mom, and their beloved squash!

[darkershining]

Still catching up on Wonderful Pretty Cure, just watched episode 28, in which the Cures visit a farm.

The episode begins with the Cures visiting a farm run by the family of one of their classmates, Ohkuma. Komugi is especially excited, while Yuki only came along because Mayu did. Ohkuma is happy to show the others around, and invites them to join in a stamp rally they've got going on the farm for the summer. While Ohkuma is checking on some of the other people visiting the farm, Mey-Mey reveals that he decided to come along too, bringing Niko along.

Ohkuma returns to the group, who quickly have to convince her that she imagined Mey-Mey talking, while Mey-Mey quickly gets down on all fours and tries to act like a normal sheep. Luckily she buys it, and takes a moment to wonder where he came from, before convincing herself the only likely explanation is that he's one of the farm's sheep who got separated from the herd.

While a worker takes Mey-Mey over to the other sheep, Ohkuma guides the others around, letting them take part in activities like milking cows, making ice cream from the fresh milk and looking at the various animals. While the group is later watching a sheep dog show, Komugi notices that Mey-Mey is struggling to keep up with the other sheep. While Mey-Mey tries to explain to the sheep dog, Andy, that he's not really part of their herd, Komugi decides to cheer Mey-Mey on to reach the finish, with others joining in. Motivated, Mey-Mey decides to continue running alongside the sheep dog to the finish.

Some time later, after Mey-Mey has managed to get away from the other sheep and rejoin the group, he complains about how his day has turned out so far. However, he cheers up when Komugi notices that Niko's egg is glowing, and Iroha comments that Niko must've been enjoying herself. Mey-Mey concludes that if Niko enjoyed it, then all that running was worth it.

Of course, there's a Garugaru egg somewhere on the farm, which soon hatches into an alpaca Garugaru and puts the animals on the farm on edge. The Cures quickly transform, and find themselves having to dodge the Garugaru's balls of acid spit. While Cure Friendy and Wonderful are trying to dodge the spit, Cure Lillian and Nyammy make an attempt to approach the Garugaru from behind. However, it spots them and tries kicking at them.

The Garugaru momentarily loses track of where the Cures are, giving them a moment to try to come up with a plan for how to stop its attacks. They are interrupted when Ohkuma shows up, having chased after a calf that ran into the field. Ohkuma tries telling the Garugaru to leave, but it tries spitting at her, with Cure Friendy having to quickly leave the hiding spot to shield them with her Ribbon Barrier. It works, sending the ball of acid spit flying in a different direction, forcing Cure Friendy to quickly move out of the way as it flies in her direction.

Satoru quickly takes Ohkuma and the calf to safety, while Cure Nyammy and Cure Lillian formulate a plan now that they know that their barriers can block the Garugaru's acid spit. Cure Lillian calls on the Kirarin Swan for help, using its power of flight to keep the Garugaru's attention. When the Garugaru tries spitting at her, she reflects it back, causing the Garugaru to freak out. However, Cure Wonderful and Nyammy then use their own barriers to stop the attack as the Garugaru looks on. Cure Wonderful and Cure Friendy manage to purify the Garugaru, and then they send the alpaca back to Niko Garden.

The group complete the stamp rally, and Mey-Mey quickly moves out of sight when Ohkuma shows up to give the group their reward for finishing the rally; stickers based on the different animals at the farm. The episode ends with them all taking a picture together.

Another fun episode. Nice to get to know one of the classmates we've seen in episodes taking place at school a little better. Not much else to say about this one.

The preview for the next one, however... now this is going to be interesting! Looking forward to checking it out!

[emeraldart]

We need more swap AUs with Willow as the human so I made one myself. Everyone stays the same but Willow and Luz switch places. The first episode is under the cut — it’s pretty long. I’ll probably be doing comics and and other random eps later!

Willow Park sat in the principal’s office, crossing her arms. Principal Hal briefly addresses her parents. She blew some dyed blue-green hair from her eyes, eyeing her science project wearily. So what if her robot malfunctioned? This wouldn’t have happened if she just got to study botany as she’d wanted. 

“Mr. Parks, your daughter’s project went disastrously wrong. Again,” Principal Hal said, bluntly, “Her grades have been slipping lately. I fear that if her grades don’t improve, we’ll have to send her to summer school.”

“That seems awfully drastic,” Papa defended.

“I don’t know, Gil, we do want her to succeed in life,” Dad countered.

“Don’t I get a say in this?” Willow declared. 

“This is the first of many incidents, Willow,” Papa said, “I think you should really consider this.”

Before she knew it, Willow was staring outside her house, waiting for the bus to summer school. She fiddled with her small cactus. She took her plants everywhere with her, despite her fathers protests that botany wouldn’t open nearly as many opportunities. 

“Don’t worry, Will,” Dad comforted, “You’ll be so busy learning mechanics… and doing math, the time will fly by!”

“But I don’t like any of that stuff!” Willow protested. “I like working on my garden and being outside!”

“This is all so you get better opportunities,” Papa said, “You’ll make so many friends, but you have to try and let this gardening stuff go.”

“Ok…”

Willow threw away her cactus, frowning. Her dads left and she immediately started to dig through the trash for her beloved plant. It was gone. Willow looked up, spotting a small owl holding the little pot in its mouth. Owls weren’t supposed to be out during the day… and they definitely didn’t fish plants out of the trash. She chased it, following it through the old shack near her house through an odd door with an eye on it.

“Get back here you adorable little owl!” 

Willow paused when she realized she was in a tent. She fingered a strange blue plant. She’d seen weird plants before, but never like this. She was snapped out of her thoughts by a voice.

“Finally, you’re back.” 

Willow peered through the flaps of the tent, seeing a strange, old lady. She had gray hair and gold eyes. Her skin was so pale it was practically white. 

“Now, let’s see what we got here.”

The owl flies to the top of her large stick, and the lady spun it around. The owl turned to wood. Willow held back a gasp, readying herself. For what, she was not sure. 

The lady took out a phone. “Garbage.” She took out a ring. “Garbage.” She took out some brilliantly shiny chalice. “Garbage.” 

She took out some joke glasses with springs. “Now this…” The lady put them on. “This will make me rich!”

Willow gasps quietly as the woman grabbed her plant.

“This… eh, I don’t really have a use for this,” the lady gestured to throw out the plant.

Willow ran in and grabbed it, nervously mumbling an apology before making a break for it. She pulled the flap of the tent aside, running up to the weird door. It proceeds to fold up, disappearing into a small briefcase. Willow turned around, facing her strange pursuer.

“You’re not going anywhere,” she threatened.

Willow held in a shriek and dove under the tent. She skidded to a stop as she found herself at the edge of a cliff. Dragons flew through the air. Giant bugs functioned as buses. Disgustingly fascinating beasts roamed. Willow screamed.

“This… this is a dream, right?” she laughed, nervously. A fairy flew up next to her. “Oh… uh, nice fairy…”

“Give me your skin!” the fairy cried.

Willow yelped and swatted the fairy to the floor, flinching.

“Am I dead? I’m dead, aren’t I? This is the bad place then, I guess,” Willow rambled.

“You wish,” the same woman from before grabs Willow’s shoulder and drags her back to the tent, sitting her down on a stool. Willow clenched her fists, ready to fight back if she had to.

“I’m just here for my plant. Please, don’t eat my skin. And if you try… you’ll uh, regret it!” Willow threatened or at least tried to. 

“Eat you? Why would I eat… a potential customer?” Willow tilted her head, confused. 

“Can I offer you a human foot filled with holes?” she took out a green croc. “A bar of green human candy? Oh, oh! How about this black shadow box that reflects only sadness?” She grabbed a bar of deodorant, followed by an old-fashioned television. 

Willow laughed. “It can do waaaay more than that.”

She looked around the table before finding some batteries. She took the television from the lady and placed the batteries in, turning it on. An old exercise video starts playing. A crowd immediately gathered. People started to bid higher and higher amounts of money for it, asking unusual questions. 

“What did you say your name was?” the woman asked.

“...Willow, Willow Park,” Willow told her, hesitantly.

“Well, Willow, that was pretty clever… for a human,” the woman said.

“For a human?”

“Oh, dear child,” she began, removing her bandanna to reveal two pointy ears. “I’m not like you.” She jumped onto the table. “I’m Eda the Owl Lady, the most powerful witch on the Boiling Isles!” 

“A witch?” Willow asked.

“I am respected, feared-” she continued before she was cut off by a masked stranger smashing the T.V.

“Busted!” the guard said, as customers started to scatter. “Eda the Owl Lady, you are wanted for misuse of magic and demonic misdemeanors.” Willow gasped. “You are hereby ordered to come with me to the Conformatoruium! 

Eda freed her arm. “Will you guys quit following me around? I haven’t done squat.”

The guard ignored her. “And you’re coming too,” he grabbed Willow, who yelped, “for fraternizing with a criminal.” 

“Hey!” Willow flailed around, uselessly. 

“Oh, all right, all right, you win,” Eda conceded. “Just let me get my stuff.”

She rummaged under the table, grabbing the staff from earlier. She swung the staff, hitting the guard. He hit the floor with a thud. Eda spun the staff, making all the contents of her stand float before drifting into a bundle on her staff. Willow shakily got up.

“Whoops, can’t forget this.” Eda pulled a key out of her hair, pressing a button. The door-turned-briefcase vanishes. 

“Follow me, human.” 

Willow ran after her. “This is crazy! I’m gonna die here!” 

“Ha! I won’t let them hurt you,” Eda said, cocky. “A human like you is more valuable to me alive than dead.” 

“Are you trying to be suspicious? I can’t believe-” Willow yelled as Eda cheered, pulling them both onto the staff and taking off. 

The guard ran in, seconds too late. “You won't get away with this, Owl Lady! Yeah, all right. You did. You got away with it. She got away with it, everybody! Typical.”

Eda flew through the skies, Willow keeping her eyes screwed shut.

“You can open your eyes now, human.” 

Willow gasped when she saw they were flying. “Okay, it’s just a flying staff, some monsters, and a witch. That’s a normal Earth thing.” 

Eda laughed. “This is the Boiling Isles. Every myth you humans have is caused by a little of our world leaking into yours.” 

Creatures flew by, including a strange lion with the head of a pigeon. Willow vaguely recognized it as a griffin from folklore, although more grotesque. It proceeded to breathe out a stream of living spiders, falling from the sky.

“Eww…” Willow murmured. 

“Yep. Griffins, vampires, giraffes-” Eda listed before Willow cut her off.

“Giraffes?” 

“Oh yeah, we banished those guys. Bunch of freaks.” 

Eda landed the staff and jumped off. Her hand remained. It moved, causing Willow to jump off the staff in shock. 

“Oops,” she said, screwing it back on, “That happens sometimes.” 

“Well… this has been, uh, interesting,” Willow said. “But I really have to get going. Mind helping me get back home?” 

“Only if you help me first,” Eda chuckled. “Ah, now come along, human.” 

Willow gasped as a peculiar house came into view. Owls flew around, laughing. She didn’t know owls could do that. The house itself was reasonably tall, with a tower and a large window resembling an eye. 

“I won’t have to fight off any guards, will I?” Willow worried. 

“Nope. My house has a state-of-the-art defense system.” 

A strange… owl… sits on the door, tilting its head. It was round with large eyes. 

“Hoot-hoot! Password, please!” it (he?) bellowed. 

Eda poked his eyes, making him shout.

“We got no time for this, Hooty. Let us in,” Eda grumbled. 

“All right, all right! Geez! You have let me have any fun! Ow! Hoot!” Hooty complained. 

Hooty opened his mouth to encompass the door. Willow winced as they walked in, although fascinated.

“Welcome to…” Eda snapped her fingers, “the Owl House!”

The candles lit up and Willow looked around in wonder. 

“Where I hide away from the pressures of modern life. Also the cops. Also ex-boyfriends.” 

“I really respect that,” Willow said, “So do you live here all alone?” 

“Actually,” Eda replied, “I have a roommate.” 

A shadow loomed from the hall. “Who dares intrude upon I, the King of Demons?” The creature stepped out to reveal a small, dog-like creature with a skull on his head. He squeaked a rubber duck. Willow scooped him up.

“You’re so cute! Eda, who’s this little cutie?” Willow cooed. 

“I’m not cute!” King whined. “Eda, who is this monster?” 

Eda pulled Willow away from King. “Oh, this is Willow, the human. She’s here to help us with our little… situation.”

“Oh, hooray!” King cheered. 

“Wait. I definitely don’t like the sound of whatever your situation is. I just want to get home,” Willow said. 

“Just… let me explain,” Eda sighed. “King was once a mighty king of demons, until his Crown of Power was stolen, and became… this.” Willow cooed at King again. “The crown is being held by the evil Warden Wrath and locked away behind a magical force field only a human can break through. A human like you. If you help us retrieve his crown, we’ll send you back to your realm. So whaddya say?” 

“It doesn’t seem like I’m being given a choice here,” Willow grumbled. 

“Nope. We got no time to lose,” Eda grabbed Willow’s arm and they walked off.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere super fun!” 

The group found themselves at an ominous building, lightning crackling around them. A selection of wanted posters covered the wall as the group stared up at the castle-like structure. 

“The Conformatorium. A place for those considered unsuitable for society,” Eda deadpanned. 

Willow peeled Eda’s wanted poster off the wall. “Woah. These guys really are after you, huh?”

“Yep. But we’re never caught because we’re too slippery,” Eda said with a wink.

“Try to catch me when I’m covered in grease. I’m a squirmy little fella. You and I will sneak up to the top of the tower, where they’re keeping my crown,” King squealed.

“And I’m gonna make sure the Warden’s distracted,” Eda added. 

“I didn’t bring a disguise,” Willow said.

“Eh, I don’t think you’ll need one,” Eda reassured her. “Just punch anyone that gives you trouble.”

“You get me, Eda, you get me.” 

Eda slammed her staff onto the ground, creating a disk that lifted them up. “Hang on tight. See you guys at the top of the tower!”

The disk floated up to the window, letting Willow and King reach the inside of the tower. The duo moved through the hall, eyes catching the cells.

“Hey, lady, how’d you get out of your cell?” a prisoner asked. 

“Oh, um, I’m not a criminal,” Willow replied. 

“Neither are we,” the prisoner grumbled. “The stupid warden likes to lock up people who don’t fit in. Like, I write fanfics of food falling in love. I like food, I like love… Just let me write about it!” 

“I’m here because I like eating my own eyes,” another prisoner added. 

“We are agents of fwee expwession! They will never siwence us!” a small prisoner cried.

“Yeah, she’s really into conspiracy theories,” the first prisoner groaned. 

“The world is a simulation! We are but playthings for a higher being!” 

“That’s… that’s not right. You guys just… want to be yourselves. Like me,” Willow murmured. 

Willow was briefly distracted by some footsteps, running into a cell and pulling the bars in front of her. She covered her mouth as a man, the Warden, she assumed, thundered in. His emotionless mask met the prisoners. 

“I can hear you,” he said. “Just what are you fools whispering about?” He picked up Eda’s fallen poster. “Ah, the Owl Lady.” The Warden’s arm warped into a hammer, slamming into Willow’s cell. “I’ll get my hands on her soon enough.” 

He briefly glanced into Willow’s cell, where she held King protectively. The small prisoner shouted defiantly, causing the Warden to open to cell and grab her. 

“Let this be a lesson to all of you. There’s no place for you in society if you can’t fit in.”

Willow waited as he stomped away, before clambering out of the cell. She approached the other prisoners. 

“I can still get you guys out… at least,” she smiled, weakly, opening their cells. “Good luck!” 

Willow ran off, reaching Eda. She flew through the halls on her staff. She told Willow the Warden was distracted. Willow grew uneasy at the thought of him torturing the prisoner she failed to rescue. They eventually reached a large door labeled “Contraband.” King eagerly ran up to the door, cheering about power. Eda laughed at his antics.

“Why are they locked up here? They’re just being themselves…” Willow said, more to herself than Eda. 

She snapped out of her thoughts to find King attempting and failing to break through a glimmering barrier. Willow took a breath before walking into the pillar, finding piles of confiscated junk. At the top, she saw a glowing crown. She winced. That couldn’t be it… Willow groaned as King eagerly grabbed for the Burger Queen crown.

“That crown doesn’t give him any powers, does it?” 

“Uh, no. Oh, look at us Willow. King and I don’t have much in this world, we only have each other. So if that dumb crown is important to him, it’s important to me. Besides, us weirdos have to stick together.”

Willow got caught off guard by the comment. She was used to avoiding her weirdness in an attempt to keep her grades up and keep bullies away. She always kept her head down. 

“Well, we owe you one. Let’s get out of here before the Warden finds out and loses his head.”

The Warden stormed in. “Too late.” 

With a sharp swing, he cut off Eda’s head. It fell into Willow’s arms, who shrieked in shock. 

“Ow. I hate it when that happens.” Willow fought the urge to retch. 

“Normally I’d question this but…” Willow groaned, “This really isn’t the weirdest thing to happen today.”

The Warden proceeded to give a speech to Eda, ending with… asking her out? Willow commented on the misogyny of holding someone hostage to ask them out. Wrath grabbed her, yelling to stay out of it. Guess he didn’t appreciate social justice. Willow wriggled to get free as Eda spit in his face. Taking the opportunity, Willow grabbed Eda’s staff and slammed it over the Warden. She grabbed Eda’s head and bolted. Eda’s body freed King and they all climbed onto the staff.

“How does this work exactly?”

“Gun it, magic stick!” Eda commanded. 

Wrath gave chase as they flew through the halls. Willow reached out and pulled as many levers as she could freeing the prisoners. Wrath’s tentacle-like arms got closer, and they all fell to the ground outside the Conformatorium. Willow tried to help but they waved her off, telling her to return to the human realm. She found the prisoners from before, but they had no desire to escape. 

“Don’t you get it?” Willow asked, “It doesn’t matter if you’re weird, or unconventional, or just do things differently. Sometimes success is being happy, not just doing what you’re supposed to be doing.” 

“Why are you helping us?”

“Because us weirdos have to stick together,” Willow cheered, “And no one should be punished for who they are!” 

The Warden had Eda and King cornered. Willow and the other prisoners tackled him, Willow using Eda’s staff in an attempt to knock him unconscious. The prisoners tied his tentacle arms together, rendering his attacks useless. Humiliated, he ran, and Willow cheered. 

They flew back to the Owl House, where, as promised, Eda got the door ready. King and Eda waved goodbye, and Willow looked at them wistfully. A magical world was right here. Summer school was back home. 

“I don’t know,” Willow began. “My dads want me to be happy, but I don’t want to keep learning stupid engineers. I want to study plants and learn how to help them grow. This place is full of magic to do stuff like that here.”

“What exactly are you proposing, kid?” Eda asked.

“I want to stay and become a witch, like you.”

“That’s ridiculous, humans can’t become witches,” Eda smirked.

“There’s a first time for everything.”

King climbed onto Eda’s shoulders. “Let her stay! She can make us snacks.” 

“All right. I could use some help keeping this goofball out of the cupboards,” Eda conceded. “I can teach you anything about spells or whatever plant nerd stuff if you work for me.”

“Deal.”

So Willow found herself getting ready for bed in the Owl House. Her sleeping bad uncurled fully as she hit the ground and yawned. Her phone buzzed. 

Dad: How’s summer camp?

Papa: Are you having fun?

Willow looked up, to where King had entered the room.

“Your sleep cocoon looks fluffy,” he said, awkwardly. Willow patted it, gesturing him to come to sit. He curled into a little ball next to her. She smiled warmly.

Willow: I think I’m gonna like it here.

[laura-sanchez-mlp]

MSA X Scooby-Doo on Zombie Island Chapter 20: The rest of the gang is discovered that police have not found the cases, Gardeners are Detectives and undercover investigating the island/They are leaving the island with their own luggages and packages, rest of the gang with their own pets are picked peppers to a basket of peppers and getting back to ferry/Dogs are noticed that Cats and Kitsunes in Dogs forms have their own owners have died and homeless and become loved adopted family

Daphne: I can't believe all this. And without our videotape no one else will, either. I've got nothing for my show.

Me (Laura): Yeah, and the police will never believe this story either

Beau: Don't be so sure. I'm Detective Beau Neville

Ralph: and I'm Detective Ralph, We been working undercover investigating the island disappearances

Velma: Jinkies! So that's why you were digging around

Starla: Beau, um, Detective Neville have you ever been on TV?

Beau picks up Simone's necklace. Daphne bends her knees down to offer Beau a resolution a full interview story for Daphne's season premiere episode. Ralph picks up Icy's necklace. Starla tells him that story.

After having a very long night being chased by zombies and only got their lifeforces drained by evil were-cats and were-kitsunes, they spent the night at the house until early morning. Vera has developed an idea of what to do about the house and the pepper fields--convincing Lewinn to open a business by making Moonscar Island Pepper hot sauce and selling to the New Orleans local.

Landon loves the business idea and decides to immediately start on the project, since he is an ultimate food-lover, especially if it's spicy food. But first, he's got a big performance at the Mardi Gras Parade, so he ask them to take him down there before the day's out.

Daphne: You know, Fred, with all the zombies and cat creatures gone, this is a pretty romantic spot

Fred: Yeah, The bayou casts a spell all its own, and no matter how hard you try to solve its mysteries it always keeps something hidden

Marco: Starla, will you be my wife?

Starla: My answer is "Yes" **kisses Marco**

Mystery Gangs will be driving the two ferries back to New Orleans and Vera awaits the others to get on aboard. While she's waiting, she sees Fred and Daphne standing side to side watching the sunrise. Beau was talking Velma into becoming a writer for detective stories and coincidence - Velma owns a mystery book store. Ralph talking to Marco becomes Mystery Bookstore.

Velma: Aw, that was beautiful, Detective Neville. There's a bit of a poet in you

Beau: **chuckles** I don't know about that, ma'am. But I would like to write detective stories someday

Velma: Jinkies! I've always been crazy about a good detective story, that is.

Beau: I even own my own mystery bookstore

Velma: No kidding

Trixie: Muffet, I made something for u

Muffet: Hm?

Trixie: I made this ragdoll and i call her "Mabel"

Muffet: **gasp, was happy and holds Mabel the Ragdoll** Thanks, Grandma

Claude: **cute bark**

Aaron drives the van aboard the ferry and the others are waiting for the Mystery Vans to pull up. While they were waiting, Vicki started the fun.

Everyone has a batch of beignets when they reach New Orleans.

Shaggy drives the Mystery Van into the ferry. Velma checks inside and didn't see Scooby.

Velma: Where’s Scooby?

Shaggy: He's picking a pack of peppers, for the road. Hurry up, Scoob! We're pulling out!

Scooby: Rokay!

Scooby shouted back as he picks out his last pepper. Bart goes back to the captain's deck and starts driving the ferry back to New Orleans. Scooby makes an attempts to jump to the ferry when his leg got caught. He struggles to pull it off and then he flies up in the air, causing Snakebite Scruggs to lose his chance of finally catching Big Mona.

Scooby safely lands on deck and Shaggy gives him a sandwich. Scooby gives a generous amount of peppers inside his sandwich. Before he got to enjoy it, he became surrounded by Simone's cats and Icy's kitsunes in dogs, who are now homeless and will later be adopted into loving families. This freaks Scooby out.

**they are going to the Ferries boat ship, with cats and kitsunes**

Scooby: Rhaggy! Rats and Kitsunes! Yikes!

----

After the credits, Scooby rips the black screen. He puts milk in the bowl of milk for the two cats are drink. Jaxson puts dog foods in bowls for the two kitsunes in dogs are eat. Scooby and Jaxson are happy.

**The End**

My MSA OCS and My New MSA OCS belongs to Me

Her MSA OCS and Her New MSA OCS belongs to @sfcabanasstarcgs and @mysteryideasgroup

Scooby Doo belongs to Cartoon Networks and Warner Bros

for @sfcabanasstarcgs and @mysteryideasgroup

[reneesbooks]

The Knight of Lacuna Lake - Part 2

summary: Keelan settles into his role as Maura's sworn shield.

taglist (ask to be added <3 ): @lyssa-ink, @serenanymph

{***}

Keelan is assigned to Maura's room the next morning. He stands outside her door with tingling fingers, ears straining to catch any sound, shuffle, or other sign of life.

He stood outside the king's door the day before, but after spending the afternoon with Maura in the gardens, this feels strangely intimate.

The door is flung open at exactly eight (he can hear the chapel bells tolling) and he quickly bows. “Good morning, princess.”

“Keelan!” Maura says, delighted. He straightens from his bow to see her beaming at him. He can feel the blush crawling up his cheeks. She is wearing green today, a dress in a color that reminds him of leaves on grapevines. “The commander works fast. I suppose all of your assignments have already been changed over.”

Keelan shrugs. “I am at your disposal, princess. I will be here almost every morning at seven and will leave when you turn in for the night.”

She raises one eyebrow. “And in between?”

He tries to remember what the commander told him to say. “I am to follow your orders and remain at your side. As is my duty as your sword shield. I think.” He sighs, rubbing his eyes with one hand. “I don't remember exactly what they told me to say.”

Maura laughs. “That's alright. It sounds like you and I are officially stuck with each other, then.” She starts down the hallway and he falls into step behind her.

“Unless you get sick of me and have me executed,” Keelan half-jokes. Maura shoots him an exasperated look.

“My mother hasn't enforced the death penalty since she took the throne. Besides.” She takes the steps up to the library. “I could never execute my friend.”

He ignores the bloom of warmth in his chest and holds the door open for her. “What is the plan today?”

A man stands quickly from behind a desk near the entrance. “Good morning, Princess Maura. You're as punctual as ever.”

“Levi!” Maura reaches out to hug him. Keelan figures he must be the librarian. He is a pale man with slanted eyes and neatly combed black hair. He adjusts his glasses and smiles at Keelan. “Levi, this is my new sworn shield, Keelan of Leyne.”

“I have heard the stories about you,” Levi says. “Welcome to Morbhard.”

“Thank you,” Keelan says, glancing at Maura then back at Levi. “It's a beautiful city.”

“I imagine Leyne was even more so,” Levi says, lowering his gaze. “I am terribly sorry for your loss.”

“Levi!” a child's voice shrieks. Levi's expression immediately lifts. Keelan glances at Maura again to see a grin on her face. “Levi, I can't find the bunny!”

A child comes skidding around the corner, her bare feet sliding on the polished stone floor. Keelan's eyes widen as he takes her in—he's heard stories of Princess Brigit, but to see her in person is another thing entirely. Her hair is the same soft silver as Maura's eyes, glowing faintly in the morning light. When she peers up at Keelan, he inhales sharply. Her eyes are the same color as her hair, but when he looks into them, they are as bottomless as Lacuna Lake.

“Hi!” Princess Brigit says brightly, waving at Keelan. She grins, showing off a missing tooth. “Your armor is very shiny.”

Keelan bows. “Good morning, Princess Brigit.”

“Birdie, this is Keelan, my new friend,” Maura says, crouching next to her sister. “Keelan, we all call her Birdie.”

“And duckling,” Birdie chimes in. She turns to Levi. “You said there was a bunny.”

Levi frowns. “Did I?” He lifts his cupped hands to his mouth and begins to whisper something. Keelan glances at Maura and sees only the excited gleam in her eyes. Birdie is bouncing on her toes. Levi whips his hands away from his mouth in a flourish. A glowing blue apparition of a rabbit flies out, leaping over their heads. Birdie laughs, delighted, and chases it down one of the aisles of bookshelves.

“Amazing, Levi!” Maura claps. “Is that what you're teaching her today?”

Levi chuckles. “Not even close, princess. That spell is far too advanced for her. She's quite skilled, but she's still only six. I'm only teaching her the basics.”

“You're a witch,” Keelan says, a little cautiously. He glances at Maura. “I thought the king—”

“My father is Guildin,” Maura says, sighing. “They are very suspicious of magic there, but he understands its cultural roots here Raedora. Levi is our librarian and also our head of magical research. He's practically family.”

“You honor me, princess,” Levi says, bowing deeply. “It has been my great pleasure to serve your family. What would you like to study today?”

Maura hums, tapping her chin with a finger. “History, I think.”

Levi claps his hands together and a stack of books appears on his desk. “These should do the trick. Raedoran history with a few tomes about Guildin and Fierodian history, for variety.”

“Thank you, Levi.” Maura picks up the stack of books. “Come on, Keelan. Much to do.”

He follows her to the enormous windows, where she sets the stack of books on a table with two overstuffed chairs. She perches on one, unstacking the books. “What should we start with?”

Keelan stares at her, still standing next to her chair. Birdie's laughter echoes through the library. “I can't read.”

“I know,” Maura says. “Sit down, I'm going to teach you.”

He sits abruptly on the chair opposite to her. “You're what?”

“Going to teach you.” She picks one of the books and flips it open. “Before lunch, I study in the library. After lunch, I have some time to myself, then I spend the rest of the time before dinner with my parents, learning how to run the kingdom. This is the best time to teach you.”

“Princess—”

“Maura.”

“Maura. I'm not sure if this is a good use of your time.” Keelan squints at the words on the page of her book. “What use is a knight who reads?”

“Someday, I'll need someone who can read important letters for me,” Maura says. “Or...a knight who can help write laws.”

“I'm a slow learner.”

“I'm a patient teacher.” He's going to have to learn to resist her smiles. “This way, you can find your favorite book.”

Keelan could stay in the library forever, listening to Maura read old accounts of monarchs long dead. He's supposed to be paying attention to the letters and symbols, to how they form sounds and then words, but instead he's paying attention to the cadence of Maura's voice, the way she rounds off her vowels and softens her consonants. He reassures himself by thinking that at least he's still paying attention to the words.

As the bells are tolling noon, Birdie comes running up to the table, her bare feet making a telltale patter against the floor as she approaches. She jumps up to grab Maura's arm, interrupting a lengthy paragraph that Keelan doesn't think he heard a single sentence of.

Maybe he wasn't paying attention to the words after all.

“Sissy, Sissy!” Birdie says. “Momma says there's gonna be fruit from Giddi at lunch today! Figs!”

“All right, Birdie, we're coming,” Maura laughs, closing her book. Levi joins them at the door and the four of them walk to the informal dining room in the royal wing. Keelan hesitates when they reach the door, noting the guards that flank it.

“I will wait out here, princesses,” he says, bowing. Maura frowns.

“You can come inside and eat something,” she says. Keelan sees one of the guards raise an eyebrow and makes sure that he isn't looking directly at Maura when he speaks next.

“You honor me, princess, but I will remain here, guarding the door. He takes his spot next to the other guard. “I will be here when you finish your meal.”

Maura's eyes dart to the other guard and some understanding passes through her expression. “Thank you, Sir Keelan.”

Keelan's chest aches when the door swings shut.

{***}

Maura looks up from her book. “Can you keep a secret?”

Keelan hastily sits up straight from where he was resting his chin on his hand, listening to her read. “Um, what do you mean?”

She pushes her hair behind her ear. “I know you're still under the command of the captain of the royal guard. If I told you something that the king would want to know, would you have to tell him?”

Keelan tips his head, smiling cautiously at her. “What's on your mind?”

She sighs, stretching her arms out in front of herself. “You've been my sworn shield for a few weeks now and you're not even half-bad at reading.” He rolls his eyes at her. “But I don't feel like you feel comfortable around me yet.”

“You are a princess, I'm a farmboy.”

“You're a knight. I've seen you in the training yard with the others on your days off. You're too modest for your own good; you're better than some of my father's knights.”

“I'm sure that's not true.”

Maura shakes her head. “Like I said, too modest. I want you to feel like you can trust me.”

“I trust you.”

She stares at the table for a moment. “You don't really think I'd have you executed, do you?”

Keelan leans back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. “I'm not following.”

She inhales slowly. “The first day, you said something about me getting sick of you and having you executed. Do you really think I would do that?”

Keelan swallows and raises his gaze to the ceiling to avoid whatever emotions must be shining through her eyes. “No, Maura, I don't think you'd do that. I just...I'm a nobody from a town that doesn't exist. I'm hardly important. If I step out of line, or screw up, I can be replaced.”

“You aren't replaceable.” Maura's voice is suspiciously choked. “You're my friend.”

“You are my princess. I'm your sworn shield,” Keelan says, meeting her eyes again. His chest constricts at the sight of tears in her eyes. “I will give my life for yours. But I won't pretend that we are equal.”

Her lip trembles, but she draws herself up in her chair, straightening her spine. “Levi has been teaching me magic in secret.”

Keelan blinks. “What?”

“I trust you,” she says. “Even if you're not...even if we aren't friends. I trust that you can keep a secret from my father.”

“I don't serve your father,” Keelan says softly, needing her to understand. “I serve you.”

She looks away. “Birdie's been learning magic because she was blessed by the silver moon, born with all this magical potential. Levi said that it would be a waste not to develop her power, and my father thought that helping her control her magic would keep it from destroying her. But Levi told me that magic runs through the Raedoran royal line. The first queen of Raedora was said to be a witch.”

“I don't—”

“I have magic, too,” Maura says. “I'm learning how to use it, how to control it. My father would be furious if he knew, but Levi has been teaching me anyway.”

Keelan glances over his shoulder. He can hear the faint sound of Birdie's voice, answering Levi's patient questions, but they're on the other side of the library. He turns back to Maura. “You're a witch, too?”

She lifts her hands and furrows her brow. She murmurs something and the book she was reading levitates off the table, glowing with soft golden light. Maura drops her hands and the book thumps back to the table. “I've been learning levitation. I'm not very good at it yet, but Levi says I have a lot of potential.”

“Why have you been learning magic if the king disapproves?” Keelan glances over his shoulder again, feeling as if the king is going to pop out of one of the bookshelves if he speaks too loudly.

“Because it's more than what he says it is,” Maura says. “Father thinks that all magic is corrupted and evil, that those who use it are eventually driven mad with power or just plain mad. I don't think that's true, so I want to learn magic to help the kingdom. If I have this power, what's the point in not using it?”

She lifts her hand again and golden sparks flit around her fingers. The sparks dance around each other, glowing and spinning, breaking apart and coming back together. Keelan watches, transfixed, as she creates a small light show in her palm. She closes her hand and the sparks disappear. He finds his voice again. “Incredible.”

He must be imagining things, because he could swear that the tips of her ears turn just the slightest shade of pink. “You won't tell my father?”

“It can be our secret,” Keelan says. She nods. He lets the corners of his mouth quirk up into a smile. “A secret between friends.”

Maura laughs, and the rest of the morning blurs away.

{***}

The sun dips below the horizon and Keelan hears the chapel bells tolling. He gets up from his seat on the stone bench by the pond. “Princesses! It's almost time to go inside!”

He hears laughter and walks towards it, finding Maura and Birdie sitting in the grass on the other side of the twisty tree while Maura braids flowers into Birdie's hair.

“Keen!” Birdie cries, leaping to her feet. She runs over to Keelan and spins around. “Do you like my braids?”

They are half-falling out since she got up before Maura could tie them off, but Keelan doesn't see the point in mentioning that. “Beautiful, Birdie. You're the loveliest princess in the kingdom.”

Birdie preens, reaching up to touch her hair. “Sissy does the best braids.”

“Well,” Keelan says, seeing Maura's silent laughter in the background, “I'm sure she will share her secrets with you if you ask nicely.”

Birdie jumps up to grab his hand, laughing when he lifts her off the ground with one arm and swings her around. “Sissy! Look how strong Keen is!”

“Yes, he is.” Maura gets up from her seat in the grass. “He's a knight.”

“I'm gonna be a knight!” Birdie says, letting go of his arm. She grabs a stick off the ground and wields it with a battle cry, swinging wildly at the nearby bushes.

“You were just telling me you wanted to be a gardener,” Maura laughs, dodging one of Birdie's wilder swings. “Because of that spell that Levi taught us.”

“OH!” Birdie spins around, her eyes alight with excitement. “Watch this, Keen!”

She tosses down her stick-sword and says something in a language Keelan has never heard before. The stick writhes on the ground, silver tendrils of magic working their way around the fast-growing roots of what is soon an oak sapling, planted firmly in the ground where Birdie’s stick had been a moment before.

“Ta-da!” Birdie cries, grinning up at Keelan. “What do you think?”

Keelan stares at the oak sapling. It's big enough that it already has a few acorns growing on it. “That's very...very cool, princess.”

Birdie pulls a leaf off the sapling and skips in a circle around it. “I'll be a gardener knight! Planting flowers and rescuing maidens and...uh...saving towns!”

Soft blue light washes over them as the blue moon rises high enough to shine over the castle walls. “You'll be a wonderful knight, princess,” Keelan says, setting a hand on her shoulder to stop her skipping. “Until then, it's nearing your bedtime.”

She droops. “A few more minutes?”

“No, duckling, Keelan is right.” Maura picks up Birdie's sunhat. “Time for bed. We have to get there fast or you won't be able to go to sleep.”

Birdie skips along ahead of them as they walk through the gardens towards the castle. Keelan is rarely in the gardens at night, so he takes the time to enjoy the sight of the ponds and flowers bathed in the light of the moons. The silver moon hasn't risen yet, but there is a faint pink glow that says the red moon is nearly high enough to be visible.

“I don't know if I like Birdie's nickname for you,” Maura says, pulling Keelan's attention away from the shimmer of fireflies above one of the ponds. “It's hard for her to say some words, but usually what she comes up with is better.”

“It's not my favorite,” Keelan admits, watching Birdie jump up to pick a flower off a low-hanging branch. “But she's too cute to correct.”

“I'll have to think of something better,” Maura says, tapping her chin with one finger. Her nose crinkles. “Something that Birdie can still pronounce.” Her eyes light up. “Keys!”

Keelan laughs. “Keys?”

“It's perfect.” Maura skips up the steps into the castle. Birdie is ahead of them, leaning against the enormous wooden door. “You're a knight, so you do keep many keys, and you're the key to my safety as my sworn shield.” She beams up at him. “Keys!”

Warmth spreads throughout his chest at the thought of his nickname being chosen by her. “As you wish, princess.”

Maura's skirts swish and Birdie's bare feet patter on the marble floor of the grand hallway that leads towards the royal wing. They are approaching one of his favorite parts of the castle, the curved walkway that connects the royal wing to the rest of the castle. It faces the lake and is called the Walk of Light for the floor-to-ceiling stained glass windows that the lake is visible through. It's positioned facing south, so the sun rises and sets within view of the windows, ensuring that at least one of them is always illuminated. The windows supposedly tell the story of the first queen of Raedora, who built Morbhard with magic on the shores of Lacuna Lake. Keelan loves the way the changing light throughout the day seems to highlight different moments in the story and has spent hours of his days off wandering up and down the walkway, admiring the ever-changing stained glass. The windows throw patches of color across Maura's skirts.

Birdie is laughing, the sound like a tinkling bell, as they pass by another of the large stained-glass windows. Silver moonlight shines down on her and her laughter is suddenly cut off. Keelan turns to see her standing stock-still in the patch of moonlight, staring through the window at the face of the silver moon.

“Oh no.” Maura drops down next to Birdie, taking her shoulders in her hands. “Birdie, baby, can you hear me?”

Birdie's eyes never leave the silver moon. Her silver hair glows brighter and brighter, almost too bright to look at. Her mouth opens and her little child's voice is tripled, layers screeching over each other. Keelan can only watch in horror as the words spill from her—

When dragons rise up,

and fire burns coldest,

when the golden queen falls,

and the six bloom the oldest,

when the silver moon fails, 

and the vessel knows its worth,

when red and green are strangers,

and the dead are unearthed,

when the left cleaves from right, 

and constellations are torn,

when thieves steal for honor,

the world is reborn.

“What's happening to her?” Keelan manages to say. Birdie is still staring unblinkingly at the silver moon, repeating the strange poem.

“It's a full silver moon,” Maura says, pressing her hands to Birdie's cheeks. “Birdie? Can you look at me?”

Keelan glances out the window, then looks back at Birdie. Her eyes are glowing with the same intensity as her hair. She is still reciting in the strange tripled voice and he wonders if her throat will hurt when Maura wakes her up from whatever trance she is in.

Silver sparks fly off Birdie's fingers as she starts the poem for a third time. Maura's eyes are full of tears, but she's no longer trying to speak to Birdie, just holding her face, her thumbs stroking her little sister's cheeks. Keelan has heard of the silver moon blessing certain witches with prophecy, but this...

“—the world is reborn.” The glow fades from Birdie's eyes and hair and she blinks, looking down at Maura. “Sissy? Why are you crying?”

Maura smiles up at her even as one of those tears slides down her cheek. “I just got worried about you for a second, duckling. I'm okay now.”

Birdie blinks again, looking up at the silver moon through the window. “She's full tonight, Sissy! Do you think the faeries will make the gardens bloom?”

“I don't know, Birdie,” Maura says, standing and taking her hand. They continue down the hallway with Keelan trailing behind.

“Why did we stop walking?” Birdie asks after a moment. “You said we had to get to bed fast.”

“You were looking at the moon, remember?” Maura says. Keelan sees her discreetly wipe away another tear. “We're almost to your room.”

Keelan waits at the door while Maura tucks Birdie in for the night. When Maura steps back out of the room, she inhales shakily, looking up at the ceiling. Keelan waits for her to say something, but she just stands there for a moment.

“That's been happening since she was old enough to speak,” she finally says. She lowers her gaze from the ceiling and starts walking briskly back towards the Walk of Light. “Every full silver moon. She goes into that...trance...and she can't be woken until she's recited the prophecy three times.”

“So it was a prophecy?” Keelan has to walk faster to keep up with her as she whips around a corner. “That...poem? That was a prophecy?”

“Levi certainly thinks so.” They've reached the Walk, but Maura is still going. She takes a side corridor towards the library. “Birdie...she was born under the light of the full silver moon, as it reached its peak in the sky. It's why her hair looks like that, it's why she's so powerful, it's why she prophesied my death—” She stops in front of one of the windows, gripping a nearby windowsill and gasping for breath.

“There's no way that's what it means,” Keelan says, his heart pounding. He reaches out to set his hand on Maura's arm. “It's going to be okay.”

“When the golden queen falls,” Maura snaps, glaring at him. “How am I meant to interpret that?”

He looks away. “I don't know.”

“She's my baby sister,” Maura whispers, her voice breaking. “But she...I'm afraid of her. I'm afraid for her.”

Keelan's hand is still resting on Maura's arm. He is painfully aware of the glove that lies between them. “You love her. It will be okay.”

She closes her eyes and presses her hands to her face. “I don't know that it will.”

He burns with the need to comfort her, but he can't think what he's supposed to do. What is appropriate for a sworn shield to do for his princess? He certainly doesn't know, and he's terrified of crossing some kind of boundary. So he stands there dumbly, his hand on her arm as she sobs quietly into her hands.

“Maura,” he says softly, after it gets to be too much. He moves his hand to her shoulder. “It's okay. I'm here.”

She turns into him and buries her face in the crook of his neck, wrapping her arms around him. He freezes, feeling the warm pressure of her against the suddenly paper-thin chainmail under his tunic. Sweat soaks his undershirt and his fingers tremble as his pulse skips and stutters. She tightens her hold on him and he slowly puts his arms around her, afraid to move too quickly. He can feel the wetness of tears against his neck, the featherlight touch of her eyelashes and the heady scent of her soap. He is drowning in a patch of sunlight with moon-grey eyes and he can't think except to promise himself that he will never watch her cry without comforting her again.

It's hours, maybe days later that Maura pulls away from him, wiping tears off her cheeks. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't apologize.”

“I'm sorry for not warning you about Birdie.”

“Don't apologize.”

“I should've—”

“Stop.” Keelan catches her wrists and she meets his gaze again. “Don't apologize.” She nods. He stares at the place where his glove presses against the delicate bones of her wrist. If the king could see him, he'd lose his hand. Maybe even his life. He lets go of her and takes a step back, clearing his throat. “Do you want to go back to your room, princess?”

Maura lets out a shaky laugh. “I don't want the ladies' maids to see me like this. They're terribly gossipy.” She turns and continues down the hall. “I like to go to the library when life is weighing on me. It's one of the most serene places in the castle.”

Keelan thinks of the gardens, but with the silver moonlight still streaming through the windows, he can't imagine suggesting that.

The library is dark, but Maura lifts her hand and a ball of glowing golden light crackles to life above her palm. Keelan follows her to their usual table overlooking the city. The black waters of Lacuna Lake are awash in light from the moons—the silver is brightest, but the red and blue are both visible as crescents that add a purplish hue to the surface of the water. Maura's ball of light hovers by itself above the table and she picks up one of the books that they'd been reading that morning. “Which story was your favorite?”

Keelan sits across from her, resting his head on his arms. “I liked the one about the little shoemakers. We used to hear hammering from the hills south of the village but nobody knew where it was coming from.”

She flips through until she finds the right page. “Long ago, in the village of Edenberry, there lived an old woman with no children.”

Keelan listens to the sound of her voice until the silver moon has nearly set. Her ball of golden light flickers as she stifles a yawn behind her hand. He reaches out to set his hand on her book. “Maura. You should get to bed.”

She nods sleepily, closing the book. The ball of light follows them back out of the library, sputtering weakly before going out as they cross the Walk of Light. Maura's feet are dragging slightly on the floor and Keelan can see her eyelids drooping, but she makes it back to the royal wing.

“Don't tell Birdie about the trances,” she says, pausing in front her door. “I don't want to scare her.”

“Of course.” He bows. “Until the morning, Maura.”

She steps forward and presses a soft kiss to his cheek. “Until the morning, Keelan.”

He walks on air the whole way back to the barracks.

let me know what you thought! <3

[hejscandinavia]

The past three days have been eventful! Thursday we had a professor who studies whales in Greenland! It was cool to hear her work and listen to different whale songs. Apparently, she flies back to Greenland in two weeks to escort the King and Queen of Denmark and talk about her research! Crazy! It's odd how near me there are several castles with royal families inside them. After class, I went with three people to Tivoli, a theme park in Copenhagen! Fun fact, it inspired Small World in Disneyland/world! It's a bit pricey to get in, about 25-ish dollars, but it was fun to look around. It was small for sure, with many of the rides lasting only 90 seconds and being as tall as four-story buildings. Definitely not worth $7 per ride. However, one of the people I went with was able to get two so I got to go on the rides for free! They were still fun, the two being the best were the dragon loop ride and the high swings which had an aerial view of Copenhagen! We then went to an Italian restaurant to eat. I had Gnocchi with an Aperol Spritz. Very nice! It was funny how there were more older people eating at the various dinners in the park than families at times haha. On Friday, my class went to the Rosenburg Botanical Gardens. We went to look at the various Arctic plants on display. The plants there are very small and short to conserve energy. One of them we got to eat and it tasted like Rhubarb. I'm hoping to officially visit the gardens and the castle next Sunday after Svalbard. I was going to today but I wanted today to be a lazy day so I could rest up before the 5:30 am flight grrr. After that, DIS had an event at Bakken, the world's oldest theme park! It was built in the 1580s I believe next to the King's hunting grounds. Three of my classmates and I sat around and talked with other DIS students while we ate local cheesy chip snacks, donut apples, and granola bars. We then went on a walk through the deer sanctuary which was the original hunting grounds. According to the guides, the king would have the dogs chase the deer until they were so exhausted they would fall over and then kill them with a knife. Quite brutal. We saw a few of them. The deer here have bigger faces and look more rugged than whitetails in the US. We also saw a huge tree that was around 800 years old! After the walk, we went into the park. Like Tivoli, it's small. We got one free ride which was one of the world's oldest wooden rollercoasters! It was pretty fun and sped up quickly going up! As it was older, the ride animals looked a little creepy. Also, there are lots of paintings of naked women. Very different from American theme parks let's say. I had a hotdog and a Nutella crepe which were pretty good. Saturday, my future roommate McKenna and I wanted to experience Sweden's Midsommar. Sadly most of the festivities happened on Friday when we had class. So we looked and found that Helsingborg had one in the afternoon. We first went to Malmo to get some coffee and talked. Afterward, we took the train to the north. In total, about 2 hours. The event was in a heritage center based in the 1880s-1950s depending on what part of the "town" you went into. However, the employees dressed in traditional garb. I participated in some of the dancing but felt kind of silly as it was more for people who grew up with the tradition or were little. But it was still cool to experience it! It was misting the whole day so we were quite soaked. They had some traditional desserts too. One had rhubarb in it but it wasn't super sour. There was also a rose garden and it smelled so good! I don't know what trees were in the area, but they also smelt lovely. The town reminded me of Alice in Wonderland but the forest was more Narnia. McKenna and I had pizza for lunch and McDonalds for dinner. Excellent choices for a travel day lol.

[plusanimablog]

Chapter 43: Stairway Capture

So Edo lost the kids, who left their collars behind.

Then a servant gets a letter for Crystal which she reacts to in shock...but eh, let's see Keane react to the return of his (misgendered him last chapter; he's a prince and that makes him a bit hypocritcal for bullying Husky for looking like that) brother Husky, or as he calls him, "Myrrha". He's overjoyed that he's alive but he rebuffs him, saying that he hated his guts when he was around. Keane reveals that he thought he killed himself because he was so mean to him which Husky reacts to in shock, saying he would never do that. Nana is shocked that the princes would fight each other which Husky replies to by explaining the princes are born rivals, fighting each other over their statuses. If the king likes a Queen, the prince gets an automatic higher status. If he favors a prince, the Queen is better off automatically. He then says as bad as it can get among princes, it gets way worse among the Queens (Nana has to stop him from saying "it's because they're girls" but you know he was thinking it). Th queens not only have their kids to think about but their homelands so it brings the worst out in them...so there it is. That's why Husky hates girls. They fight over frivolous things, do insidious actions such as hiding needles in cupcakes and badmouth other children...why do we even still have women?!

(Fight the real enemy.)

Keane then asks if the rest of the group are Husky's servants. He answers that they're his friends and Nana explains he came back to see his mother. When Keane asks Husky for confirmation, Husky responds in the affirmative and says that he's just here for that. When he leaves, they can go back to saying he's dead. Suddenly, Keane is on his side, saying he'll make sure he'll see his mother and tell her that he's alive.

The next day, some guy is looking for Keane because he needs to talk to him about something but Keane is leading the group through the garden, taking advantage of the fact that the morning is when everyone is in their rooms, getting tutored. He tells them to stay in the courtyard, he'll go get Lady Marein. Then they hearing a jingling noise. Husky says that's the noise that's made when a Queen is coming. It's Lady Dylana, Keane's mother. He rushes off to greet her as the group hides. When she asks if he's supposed to be studying, he shouts loud enough for the gods to hear that Prince Myrrha is alive. Then he points out the group.

While definitely a little shit, hold back on the stones, folks. Myrrha just wanted to ease his mother's consciousness that has been apparently stressed out since Myrrha's "death". Lady Dylana, however, doesn't believe that that kid is Myrrha and orders the guards to seize him, much to Keane's shock. Cooro tells Husky that they're going and flies off with him into the palace, the guards giving chase.

Nana's pissed too, wondering where the hell Kazana is because he was supposed to be the damn decoy. Cooro does some sick flight manuevers through the palace walls and Husky yells out to stop Senri from fighting the guards...only for the fighting to stop when none other than Lady Marein steps down to survey the noise. Looking at them, seeing her son, she says...seize them.

Outside, Crystal arrives on horseback outside the castle, ending the audience by requesting an audience with the king.

[sannehnagi]

At the end of a long thin road lies the village of little-egg, pale-gold larch trees close it in tighter than a wall

and in the autumn the mist only touches the ground on Sundays

Much rich selling smoke from well made chimneys and aged crisp wood rise up to very clear night stars which look like nails in a strong black roof

wolves howl in the forest but are never seen.

Thick skins make each house

green onions shoots poke from every garden

T’aanuuntši possesses several fields whose soil forgive every offense

four horses, ten cows, two hens, and a rooster for every family, 

3 sheep, one pregnant, one goat who has a passion for onion shoots, 

and a river so small that it forgot its own name but which allows for T’aanuuntši to have one mill.  

A liking for meat keeps these numbers pleasantly accurate.

Rain comes only when everyone has shut their door as tight as they can.  

Snow comes only after everyone has chopped all the logs he needs.  

no one ever leaves t’aanuuntši, 

what is out there to want? 

And no one ever comes from out of town.

  IN T’aanuuntši they have a saying-

“t’aanuuntši has many things, but the forest has t’aanuuntši.”  

Another thing t’aanuuntši possesses is a short wide house where narala’ lives with her husband.  

She has always lived here and never anywhere else.  

One other thing t’aanuuntši owns is the secret sight of narala’ laying naked in the forest drying her black hair in the sun.

Every five days she touches the iron keys above her hearth but cannot remember what they unlock.

Then she takes her favorite horse, Arugiitlaq, and gallops into the forest so fast her heart flies out ahead of her,

 her bow across her back she hunts in the shadows, crouching chasing, and every five days her peels of laughter are the town’s church bells.

 She returns with deer, rabbits, pheasants, or goose, sometimes a wolf that howls but is not seen flopped over arugiitlaq’s broad back.  

Narala’ shares her meat with her village 

no one likes wolf-soup much, but no one complains,

 just as narala’ does not complain when her hens forget to give her eggs. 

Life is like that.

Narala’s husband, Uguunagaaš, is so beautiful he could lend a cup of his beauty to each man in T’aanuuntši and still charm the bark from his dogs.

Wheat falls into loaves at his feet, but also at the feet of his friends and all of t’aanuuntši is friends with Uguunagaaš.

When he bends to pull roots from the earth he sings a little song of four lines with five words each and the last word of the song is wife.

His cow becomes pregnant and he offers the calf to the family with the least cows and the milking heifer to the family with the most children.  

Of the goat he says nothing but lets him go on his onion hunting way. 

ONce Narala’ woke and saw someone working in the fields before t’aanuuntši had rubbed the dreams from its eyes,

“who is that?’

the someone wore a black coat and cut grain with an enormous pair of shears

“dont look at him, aroqim, and let him take his share.” 

Said her handsome husband and she thought no more of it.

Many more folks bustle and quarrel and clap their hands over their ears in T’aanuuntši, that is what villages are like.

All day long this or that grandmother can tell tales that stretch on and on like taffy.

Cows moan in the grass,

hens flutter when the rooster wanders by, 

the earth turns blackly wetly under plows, 

and for a while, just a little while, 

everything shines and nothing is the matter anywhere, ever.

T’aanuuntši has always been here and never anywhere else.  

It has always possessed these people, their horses, ten cows, three hens, and a rooster for every family, three sheep, the small nameless river and its mill, 

the solitary goat who would stop eating everyone’s onions if he knew what was good for him, 

and several fields whose deep dark soil forgives everything done to it.

In the house of Narala’ and Uguunagaaš even the windows laugh,

 and he sets on her like the sun and all her teeth show when she smiles.

  Each day she looks at the iron keys and tries to think, 

“Where have i see those, when have i needed such a thing that i needed to lock?” 

and each day, except sunday when the mist is down, she shakes her head to gather it and strides out onto the long thin road.

That afternoon Narala’s goes tot he well after t’aanuuntši has shaken off the day’s dust and sees someone working the field.

The someone wears a bright hat of many colors and cuts the grain with great shears.

“who is that?” she asks her husband,

“do not look at him, aroqim, let him take his share.”

on Friday Narala’ goes to the fields to cut grain, in T’aanuuntši the grain always sighs to be cut.

Even six months pregnant she does not shirk but takes up a sickle and sets to work, its handle well worn by all the hands of T’aanuuntši.

The sun polishes the tips of the trees and turns Narala’s hair blue.

Up she raises the sickle and down again, 

and the blade knocks back the golden stalks, 

and the solitary goat bleats ecstacy as he discovers a patch of wild onions no one will scold him for devouring.  

Up and down again sings the sickle and a woman drops a stitch in her knitting and Arugiitlaq deliberately throws a shoe so Narala’ will have to tend to him later for he is that sort of beast. 

And the grain falls in a cairn,

 and without knowing why the women of t’aanuuntši go to their well tilled field, whose soil forgives them all, 

and they watch Narala’ without understanding why it is they came to watch a pregnant woman with a belly like a full drawn bow,

 her sickle raised like a sword slicing again and again, 

her sweat dampening her hair, 

as the sun sings a little song of four lines of five words each, and the last word is... death.

[pawsthec]

Sarcastic maid Pt2

The daughters being little shits as usual.

Cassandra about to slice a maid's face with her sickle: hehe

Maid: I swear to Mother Miranda's cult if you don't step away from her I will kick your ass out into the Romanian winter faster than your mother can down a bottle of wine

Cassandra: You're not the boss of me

Maid: No but the castle's alcoholic is and she wants the maids alive and healthy until she can replace the dead ones after last night's fight

Cassandra: bitch

Maid: oh I'm sorry, do I remind of your uncles failed experiments? No? Then leave before your mother cracks the tile with her shoes chasing after your sorry ass

Cassandra: alright, geez. No need for death threats

....…………......…………..…….….….….…….......…...........

Daniela sneaking around in the dark like a dollar store batman: *sneak*

Maid: *unimpressed as she's trying to peacefully drink her tea in the kitchen* you know I can see your flies right?

Daniela: *hisses as candlelight is blasted in her eyes* what are you doing up after curfew!?

Maid: I could ask you the same question little miss ninja. I won't because I can see the arm in your hands but I also want to know why you're sneaking

Daniela: mother said I wasn't allowed any more late night snacks after the Irma incident

Maid: ah, I see. Well, goodnight

Daniela: you aren't going to tell mother?

Maid: I don't want to lose both my job and my life for staying up three hours past curfew and name calling. I'm already on thin ice after the Cassie thing

Daniela: Cassie thing?

Maid: it's better if you don't know. Besides, I'm willing to do a I won't tell if you don't tell kind of thing

Daniela: *holds out arm that isn't hers for a handshake*

Maid: no, I will not shake hands with Sheila's detached arm. I can tell because her bracelet is still on there

Daniela: *cackles as she zooms off*

......................................................…………………...….

Bela: *Reading in the library*

Maid: *Ignores Bela as she goes to dust the shelves*

Bela after a few minutes: can you be quieter, I want complete silence as I read

Maid: yeah, and I want my parents back but we don't all get what we want, do we?

Bela: *utter disbelief* what?

Maid: you have ears, I know you heard me

Bela: I'm just gonna *flies off*

.......................................................………………………

Alcina: *frantically looking for the maid*

Maid: *peacefully walking in the gardens*

Alcina: *power walks*

Maid: *jogs*

Alcina: *power walks faster*

Maid: *starts running*

Alcina: *catches up to them and picks them up like a child*

Maid: hey Alci, how's your near immortal life been recently?

Alcina: my daughters are now traumatised

Maid: I wonder who did that? Mother Miranda's been looking a bit suspicious recently

Alcina: (maids name), you are going to hell

Maid: and you're not?

Alcina: *tosses her over her shoulder and starts walking off with them as the ground keepers watch with concern for the maid*

Maid: is this really necessary?

Alcina: you threatened to kill my caring Cassandra, called my darling Daniela an awful name and then scared my beautiful Bela by mentioning your parents are dead without an ounce of grief

Maid: it's not my fault they're dead

Alcina: *puts her down in the main hall* are you feeling alright?

Maid: I'm fine

Alcina: right, well, go and sit in your room until dinner and think about what you said

Maid: you sound like my mother

Alcina: I am your boss, I control your paycheck, now go before I change my mind and our you on dungeon duty

Maid: fine, I'll go and stew in my non existant misery

Alcina: make it quick, I have a meeting to attend