#the sapphire storybook

[saphstories]

✨Welcome to the Sapphire Storybook! ✨

My little realm of make believe! Feel free to leave reality at the gate. 😁🥰💖

My name's Saph, Saph the Dragon! I'm so happy you decided to check out my blog page, where I share my imagination and love for all my fandom craziness! You'll find all the need-to-knows and directory under the cut! Have fun! 😘🥰

Main Info:

Pronouns: She/Her

Age: Late Twenties.

Spirituality: Christian. (I only mention this to give you a better understanding of who I am, what makes this little dragon tick!😁)

I am the creator formerly known as SkyWriter. If you've come looking for her, you've succeeded!

My Ask Box is OPEN. And I do take in-character asks!

Hyperfixations: Currently? ALL THINGS SONIC!!! 😂🥰 SHADOW MY BELOVED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

Written Works:

The Three Sovereigns: A tale of war, a tale of hope, a tale of Sovereignty, and of course, a tale of our favorite hedgehog trio! (Link is to the Masterpost!)

It's a Wonderful Life: The Chronicled Adventures of Shadow the Hedgehog, Rouge the Bat, and their epic journey through this Wonderful Life together. (Link is to the Masterpost!)

Self-Preservation: Huntress Aurora the Hedgehog passes through a little village, seeking a very specific prey. But will this huntress become the hunted?

I'm Already There: Amy Rose finds herself missing her Sonic while he's away. Sonic reminds her that she doesn't need to.

Blessed Time: Shadow the Hedgehog has lived a extraordinary life. He's experienced it all: loss, love, beauty, pain, and joy. The only thing left? The blessed touch of time.

As You Wish: When Amelia Rose agreed to an arranged marriage with Lord Silas the Hedgehog, she had hoped the journey between would grant her time to prepare herself for it. Oh, how fickle fate can be.

Happy Birthday?: It's no secret that Tails the Fox is a technical genius. He built a battle mech into a biplane, a tv out of paperclips... baking a cake should be child's play, right? ...Right?

Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic: Shadow has struggled to verbalize his feelings for a certain pink hedgehog that has captured his heart. Will an "impractical impulse buy passion project" somehow help with that?

When Heaven Calls: Mobius is burning under the heat of an overgrown sun. The end of the world is upon them, and all that can be done now is flee to a new world...a new home for the Mobians that remain. But one particular hedgehog decides to remain behind, to decline the journey to this new world and instead wait for his heaven to call him home.

A Brother's Love: A legend of ultimate courage and steadfast love, a story of a hedgehog who became a hero…by being a brother.

Shut Up and Drive: A need for speed and a thirst for victory spurs a surprise date that is one for the books! Ready, set, shut up and drive!

I'll Be There Just For You: When a stubborn little fox kit refuses to go to bed, his big brother knows just what to do to convince him.

Doctors and Roses: On a chilly All Hallows' Eve, a Doctor and his Rose unite for a night of adventure, seeking the things that go bump in the night...

Terabithia: When secret friends Shadow and Sapphire the Hedgehogs find an old rope swing in the forest, it opens an entire new world. A world of magic and intrigue... a world threatened by forces of darkness inside... and dangerous secrets outside. Will Terabithia's King and Queen be crushed under the pressure, or will they stand together? (UNFINISHED WIP.)

AUs:

The Three Sovereigns (In Progress) (<<Link to Index/Masterpost)

It's a Wonderful Life (In Progress; Currently Under Revision!)

Blue Myosotis: (Casual; Will Be Written One Day)

Safe In My Arms: (Casual; Will Be Written One Day)

Second Chance AU (Casual; Misc. AU)

Ghost House AU (Casual; Misc. AU)

Sonic Droid AU (Casual; Misc.; Ask Box)

Go Find Me:

AO3: Saph_Stories

Ko-Fi: saphstories

Wattpad: Saph_Stories

General Rules:

No NSFW or Explicit Content. Keep it PG-13 or put on a Maturity Filter or Trigger Warning, please!

No Real-World Political Content. This is a world of make-believe, it exists to have fun and tell stories, not to debate about the state of the real world.

No edits, recolors, reposts, or blatant theft of my work. I pour my heart and soul into my works, guys. If you wanna share it, reblog it!

I say yes to fanworks of my work! If it inspires you that much, I'm honored! So fanart, fanfic, videos, any type of fanwork of my works is very much allowed and encouraged, so long as the OG is credited and I'm tagged so I can see and squeal over it! 🥰 (If you aren't sure what qualifies between these two rules, feel free to check with me!)

Be Kind. Be Respectful. Be Mindful. Hatred and Nastiness is NOT TOLERATED in the Storybook. First time offenders get a personal, single warning. A second-offender? You will be blocked and reported. This is your ONLY warning.

✨️ These Rules and Guidelines are subject to addition and revision at any time as I, Saph the Dragon, Owner and Author of the Sapphire Storybook, deem necessary.✨

You are loved. You are valued.

Have fun. ♥️

[volfoss]

sapphire my best friend in the WORLD

[saphstories]

THIS IS STILL AWESOME 👌 👏 🤩🤩🤩❤️❤️❤️���️

But now we have ✨️context✨️

Heheheheeeee, enjoy my beloveds!

When Will My Life Begin - Blue Myosotis AU Animatic

For @saphstories' AU. Hope you like!

Fun fact! This took 156 individual frames and nearly 16 hours! :D

[draconesmundi]

Happy Dracones Monday! Firedrakes!

Happy Dracones Monday! This Monday we're looking at four dragon species at once, the firedrakes! Here they are, approximately to scale with eachother.

The glitterdrake is the smallest, the size of a large lizard or small cat. They live in laurel forests on Macaronesian Islands, in the Atlantic near Africa. Glitterdrakes aren't based on mythology; I put them on Macaronesia because I couldn't find Macaronesian dragon mythology but I am trying to put dragons EVERYWHERE on the map. Also, putting these dragons on an archipelago of islands means I can have a lot of island subspecies and colour morphs - glitterdrakes represent colourful fantasy dragons, so having them come in every colour (sapphire blue, ruby red, emerald green, royal purple, burning gold, shining silver etc.) was important to me.

The Welsh dragon is smaller than the other European firedrakes at 1.5 meters. They are no less fierce - there aren't any common firedrakes in Wales as a common firedrake cannot maintain a territory there for long. Originally I had the Welsh dragon as a subspecies of the common firedrake, but decided that this dragon had so much personality and folklore that it could get it's own chapter.

The common firedrake is found in Western Europe, 4m long. When designing these I noticed in a lot of heraldry dragons don't seem to have horns? Ears yes, but hornless? Also I noticed that dragons in heraldry tend to have the dorsal finlets from the back of the head to between their shoulders, but no further, which is something I have kept for all my firedrake species.

The viridian firedrake is the largest firedrake species, over 5m long. They are found in Eastern and Southern Europe, and in Russia. I based their appearance on old storybook illustrations to make them look very 'classic', which is why they have horns and cheek frills compared to the more heraldic and hornless common firedrake.

Rant about the term 'firedrake' under the cut! :)

In other creative works, these are called 'classic dragons', 'European dragons', 'true dragons' and 'Western dragons', but I am not a fan of these terms - 'true dragon' implies other dragons are untrue dragons, which is nonsense. 'Western dragon' or 'European dragon' is largely accurate (the 4 legged 2 winged dragon design is common in Europe and the West) but there are other Western and European dragons (wyrms and wyverns) and I find these terms confusing when other types of dragons are taken into account. Also, some Asian dragons also have 4 legs and 2 wings. 'Classic' dragons... serpentine and wyrmish dragons are more classic than 4 legged 2 winged firebreathers, etc.

I went with 'firedrake' as a term for these dragons because 'drake', 'drachen', 'ddraig', 'drac', 'drak' and 'dreki' are all words for dragons like this in European languages, and because firedrake is a word used in literature like some translations of Beowulf and, of course, Tolkien's Legendarium (firedrake comes from Old English fȳrdraca). I think it's a good word that easily conjures up fire breathing four legged, two winged dragons without making them more 'true' or 'classic' than other dragon types or tying them specifically to 'European' and 'Western' countries.

In Dracones Mundi I really try to get a huge diversity of dragons across to the readers. There are around 68 dragon species in this project, only 4 of which are firedrakes. I want to show readers there is more to dragon mythology than "here is a western dragon, they are evil and associated with fire, here is an eastern dragon, they are good and associated with water" - I want to dig deeper. I want people to know about azhdarha, about cuélebres, about coameh. So I'm shining the spotlight away from these firedrakes and trying to make them a small part of a much larger discussion. :)

[ladybirdswritings]

Bound - Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Summary: The crimson phantom steals you to keep for himself… dark!miguel x reader fic. very steamy as always <3

TW: mentions of kidnapping, abuse, and other dark subjects.

two

The scream, it was an awful and otherworldly sound. A thing meant to only exist in the skin glistening terrors that greet you at nightfall. Yet you were very much awake.

Mother…

Your flame dances by the wind of your hasty departure, it had been serving you well as a gold star lighting the ridiculous letter from lord Wickham of Newbury, a town away. You’d met him once, and a handsome thing he was, undeniably. Yet he was also most successfully a bore. A great one at that.

Perhaps you’re just picky with your men. His sapphire eyes and blonde locks tied back by onyx colored ribbons just weren’t enough to catch your steady eye— much to mama’s dismay. He was far from a poor man, quite the opposite. Yet you swore this to yourself, you wouldn’t marry for anything other than true love. The purest, truest love and adoration like that of storybooks. Like that of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy or Mr. Rochester and Jane Eyre.

So you wouldn’t marry at all, you’d decided. For that kind of longing was far too grand for this simple world with its simple people. This you knew well.

The ink stained paper was waxed and perfected. No stroke faltered or bled from its place. An invite to a ball, as if you had anything other than wool tresses and scratchy cloth to don. You’d prepared to have a laughing fit in your tiny cot at the thought of it all, of a man’s stupidity and their clueless nature but— the scream.

You took the steps two at a time, ignoring their complaints by noisy creaks. Shadows of your siblings circling mama in panic greeted you round the corner. All but the moon and her stars lit the wooden home— besides a single wick candle that dripped on to mama’s wrinkled palm.

She’s a mess of sobs and panic when you reach her, immediately snatching the candle from her palm and placing it in its rightful russet holder. You turn your eyes to your sister, nearly the eldest had you not beat her by a month.

“What’s happened?”

The poor thing, her eyes are wide as the moon herself. Perfect, round circles they are— adorned with cyan and onyx to craft the most delightful gaze. Men throw themselves at her, and for good reason.

“S-she claims to have seen a phantom…”

“I did see a phantom you foolish girl! Right there in the window, clear as morning hour. Can’t you see how my nerves have betrayed me you rodents!? I am being truthful!” She sobs again, face scrunched up into an unpleasant expression.

You swallow, knowing full well what this means. Your eyes shift to little Thomas, adorned in a frayed night shirt and a flimsy cap. His bright blue eyes are worrisome, looking upon you for aid. He’s only six.

You place a cool hand upon his reddened cheek before ordering your sister to help him find slumber in his cot.

You know familiarly what this is and how insignificant it is for him to see it. For you’ve dealt with it in all your time here and it has done nothing more than cause you worry and heartache.

Your palms halt themselves, then find courage in the moment to cautiously rest upon the shoulders of a madwoman.

“Mama, have you taken your medication this evening?” It’s a weak, gentle whisper.

First, you believe yourself to be in the clear. She snaps her head up in panic, and the itch of realization that bites at her gaze relaxes your shoulders for a quick moment; but then, she squints. Before you can straighten your back or step apart from her, she slams her hand hard against your flushed cheek— turning it the color of the mysterious bloom you’d seen in the bend.

Your siblings gasp, falling quiet. Particularly your brother is dismayed, for he averts his eyes and clenches an angry fist. You stumble backward, fingertips grazing the heat of the slap with a certain shakiness. It is your nerves that have fallen sickly now.

It is far from the first time, and it most certainly won’t be the last. You breathe out your frustrations and pain through petal-pink lips— allowing the night itself to have them. Reminding yourself that she is unwell in mindful matters.

She is overtaken with sobs again, murmurs of the phantom and a disappearing flower being planted throughout her words. You swipe away at the warm water rolling singular down your cheek before straightening your back and snatching at the candlestick. You’ll remain strong as the eldest should for your siblings, and for your mother.

“I’ll go search for the phantom, mama. You may watch me from the window if you’d like.”

Worry embroiders itself in her wrinkles, and she reaches a weak hand out for you. You ignore it before making your way past your siblings and out into the icy night.

The creak of the window follows not long after, and your candlestick flame dances wildly with the wind, as though they are in a quarrel. As though they are cross.

You squint, midnight surrounding you. Blackness, nothingness.

Yet even so, you make a show of searching the grassy plain for this phantom she speaks of. You don’t seem to find him.

“Oh sweet girl, have you found the creature yet!?”

Your mother cries. You ignore it, inhaling a shaky breath as the wind lashes its anger upon your skin. The grass is dampened and soft, you’ll have to find new socks for they are browned now by dirt.

A bite of breeze steals the flame from you, and your siblings gasp as your glowing features are taken by the night.

“Be calm! It is just the wind! It is creating faces in midnight, mama. That is all!”

A softer sob now, one of realization and perhaps shame. It renders you content, you can rest now. For the hunger of her paranoia and fantasies are fulfilled.

“Follow the sound of my voice!” Your youngest sister Charlotte calls. It is a faint thing beyond the wind. A faint call.

It is as if onyx curtains have been veiled around your eyes. You search the night for a glisten of light and yet there is none.

Your sister calls again, and you stumble over a vine as you walk further toward her humming.

Your eyes shift to the earth’s core to find that odd blossom from earlier on. A strong color of red and blue— and it seems as though it has the power to shine brightly even at the devil’s hour.

You gape at it, grazing your fingertips cautiously against the petals. You must pluck it and use it to lead your way. Yet soon as your touch greets it, it disappears into darkness— into the night.

You gasp, falling onto your bum at its little trick.

It is you know that has fallen ill with ailments of the mind, it seems. The thought frightens you, enough so that the darkness seems to create more faces now. Enough so that you feel far from alone in the dead of nightfall.

Panic constricts you.

“Call for me again, Charlotte!”

A soft hum, but it sounds so far away now. You take a steeling breath and focus, taking only a selfish moment to hesitate before chasing after the sound. Closer and closer, your arched feet press against soft soil as you near the moonlit window.

Your brother holds a match flame so to find you, and you breathe in relief once you near it. Your nightgown is now stained with mud and the earth, you’ll have to sew another one.

The greeting of panicked eyes settle to relief once you near the window— and yet it is not so far after that they widen to saucers again. Another scream from your mother, then from small Charlotte with glossy eyes.

You gasp, turning against the hold of the night to find two crimson orbs staring right through you.

The phantom.

You know those orbs well.

The mysterious townsman who snatched you from immediate death.

Your body finds itself still, but your mind cannot be. It overtakes you, stumbling you backward till your eldest sister’s palm grazes the muddied gown you wear through the window. Reaching for you through the cries.

She cannot snatch you so soon- for the phantom beats her to it.

The sky itself cracks open in a flash of all the colors your mind can create, and a shadowed creature you’re confined to by the night itself snatches you by waist into the painful sight. It is far too bright for gentle eyes.

The sounds of fading screams and panic pools at the bottom of your pounding chest as you’re rushed through a space only meant to make your head ache. You’re certain you’re stuck in a terror now; but your mind is far too weak to bare it. So? You faint.

In the arms of mother’s phantom and his crimson gaze…

🏷️’s: @reirain @needybitez @migueloharastruelove @laysmt @maomaimao @daisy-artfield @poutysprouty @chorizobeets @tabalittlelong @iitangerine @queenb27sblog-blog @dprmooni @neptunieesworld @cyd2301 @amelialysm @justanothers-things @heartfeltlonging @coralreefses @knightowl019

[chillwildwave]

The Wishing Kingdom: Prologue.

@annymation @uva124 @signed-sapphire @wings-of-sapphire @thisnameisnotspokenfor @mythartist21 @mafik-sun @lunellasflo @rascalentertainments @frogcoven88 @kstarsarts @oh-shtars @spectator-zee @emillyverse @gracebethartacc @gracebeth3604 @galacticstarslove17 @tumblingdownthefoxden @rylxdreams

(We hear the Disney intro with 100 at first but then we pan over to the Walt Disney Castle where a storybook titled “The Wishing Kingdom” is seen being laid on a desk, while we hear a choir harmonising, we hear a voice that is remiscent of an Golden Age male narrator.)

Once upon a time, there was a sky, so blank and so bare, even clouds covered its dread, what remained was a dark pit of nothingness.

It stayed like this until those clouds danced around the sky which caused cosmic dust to glide on by, it is said that when two elements are combined, you would get one of the most brightest creatures ever seen in the universe, responsible for looming over humans over the sky, day and night, providing every need that they offered.

So much so that the star god, Xanthos used his powers to create a habitat for all the stars, the kingdom of Starfell, where these creatures would live peacefully and decide in which star would grant wishes to their people…

Down the mist of the ever-so vivid Starfell, came the land of humans where they believed so much in the wishes that the stars held that they would hold a tradition, where their wishes would be written on a single strand of ribbons and wrapped around the branch of the first existing wishing tree…

(Little Asha interrupts the story as soon as her dad says “wishing tree.”)

“You mean the one we are on at the moment?” She enthusiastically questioned as she wiggled her legs, begging for her dad to answer.

“Yes, dear, now let me finish the story cause I’ve got more to tell.” Her dad replies when he turns another page on the book.

Even though some wishes were granted by the stars themselves, there were a few that were too controllable to grant, this happened with two specific people, a prince and a princess, held a wish in their hearts, trying to call the power of the stars to make them come true, however, the stars kept their powers shut after they found out about that wish, they thought that it would be too dangerous as it was said that if any dangerous wish was granted, it would release a dark void that would not only destroy Starfell, but also the entire humanity of Earth.

The couple tried to beg for their wish many times, not even days and weeks, but for years, until the stars decided not to grant it due to how much danger it could possess on causing destruction on the universe.

Even with their wishes in their hearts, they decided to head to a cabin where each book held a spell that would grant them magic, not just magic, but magic so powerful, it is almost impossible to avoid, so they scrummaged all the books from the shelf until the prince found one where he took deep breaths and summoned the old and powerful forces…

Magic, rare and strong,

Give me what I deserve,

Feed that feisty song,

And let the wind dissolve,

The wind dissolve.

(As he says that, he closes his eyes as we see Green effects swirling around the couple, the Princess holds onto him as he says the spell, it takes a long time until they are relieved that they had so much power from the one spell now.)

And with all this power they held, it was then that people believed that they were responsible for granting the wishes, as if they had the same power as the stars.

So it was there where they found an island on the Mediterranean Sea where the Kingdom of Rosas was established, with a hidden hamlet where the enslaved, scrubbed, cleaned and guarded their land until their chains were broken.

(We then go back to little Asha with her head next to her father.)

“You mean, that where we live, what is the cost of freedom if you can’t buy it her in this kingdom?” The little girl raised to question, her inquisitiveness kept flowing.

“I don’t know what the cost is, but it is part of what the king and queen say for their people.” Her dad replied with a solemn look on his face, he looks up to the stars while he touched his wish on a ribbon.

“Asha, there’s something I would like to tell you, look. You see these stars, right above us, legend says that these are used to believe us that with a wish, comes a dream.” (The screen then goes to the stars, the brightest one illuminating in the night as Asha’s dad speaks.)

“And when you have those, all you have to do is to keep believing, and when you have that dream, if you want to achieve something, you need to have the courage to get what you want.”

“What happens if…” She took her time to come up with another question, although she knew that it was negative, no matter what, she asked anyway. “I don’t work hard enough.”

“Well if you don’t, well, it doesn’t mean that your life is going to be entirely perfect, and if you don’t work hard, your goal will be much more complicated that it might seem.” (This causes her dad to look down at her notebook while Asha tries to get him to not look at it as she thinks he’s seen her swearing in her notes.)

“Dad, give me my notebook back!” She playfully teased him while still holding onto it.

(He still holds on to it as he reads her page while Asha slowly looks over it to see which page he is on.)

“It seems that you writing about what you want to achieve right at this very moment.” He giggles as he feels her embrace as she lays on his shoulder to look at the stars one more time before bed.

“Well, yeah and the start barely even begins with me, but tell me Dad, did you ever have a wish once, did the stars answer?” She spoke softly.

He doesn’t speak for a moment, his eyebrows causing a frown with his eyes looking up one more time. “Never, cause I’ve kept that wish for a very long time, for as long as I can remember, and since the king and queen became the new wish granters, I always knew that my wish should be worth keeping in my heart no matter what cost it had to get to me, and I believed in myself harder to the point where entered this area, with you and Sakina, and that wish, I wrote it on the ribbon and hung it on this branch of the tree, it is so special to me because it reminds me of that wish growing and growing as it lays on the branch, if it drives my heart, it’s possible that my dream would come…”

Silence… He just suffered something inside of him that the end is nearly near, there’s only silence, not much talking, Little Asha gets up and helps her Dad get up after he felt something but he fell back down causing her to carry him but it was no use, we also see Sakina running towards the tree after the commotion, as she runs to the tree, she sees her husband slowly dying while she stands next to Asha with tears running down her face, she also strokes her on the hair, gently.

Her dad continually coughs in agony, while Asha grabs his chest and tries to revive him. “No dad, you can’t, you said you would always be with me… You can’t!” Her voice is almost lost due to her pain.

The last words were spoken… “Asha… Sakina… Look at me, sometimes, not matter how old and young you are, the wishes will be dead if you don’t make it happen, there’s not a single thing like living forever to grant your wish, you shouldn’t have to live forever without that chance of wishing upon a star… Just, remember.”

He says after he closes his eyes, while he fades away to dust filled with sparkles setting their way to the sky, tearful Asha couldn’t even move after she tried to hug her mum because her hands were too shaky, despite that, her mum hugged her back as they watched the dust glide away, directing itself towards the cosmic sky of the stars…

And that’s the prologue for y’all, it would be nice if you give me your thoughts and also, I’m planning on doing an animatic to the same scene but who knows I could make some tiny adjustments to it as I go, here is my WIP animatic so far. There’s more to come.

[saphstories]

I have been summoned...

This is one of my favorite lines from The Three Sovereigns:

"I said no homemade fireworks!"

"It wasn't me, I swear!"

I shall tag @e-vay @maddiebwrites to play if they so desire!

Out of context line tag

Thank you @late-to-the-fandom! I actually have a perfect line I just wrote that's stabbing me in the chest rn so I need to post it.

He could only be loved as much as he could live up to perfection. And he had known, for a long time, that meant he could not be loved at all.

Yes this is from a Sonic fic but I'm not saying anything else about it yet 😈

Tagging: @sparkles-rule-4eva (I'm chasing you down for more Enchanted content lol) @mama-qwerty and umm I don't remember who else writes stuff at the moment cuz I'm tired so open tag please jump if you want!

[liketwoswansinbalance]

Look, I know this is practically the antithesis of Rafal's character (with his whole "pirates are pests and subpar villain material" ideas and pirates being the opposite of his "orderly civilization" line of thought) but...

If I haven't convinced anyone based on premise alone, here's a drafted excerpt for the heck of it:

The iron stench of blood clung thick in the air, clung to Rafal’s new garments.

Craning his neck upwards at the barque, Rhian could’ve sworn his brother’s clothes smelt of blood, but he couldn’t see a trace of blood on him. Just, streaks of—blue—a strange, deep, sapphire blue on his clothes, tinging the edges of his hair, a spray of an inky substance speckling his jawline and the side of his face, and smears of blue on the… Night Crawlers assembled behind him.

And by the Storian’s grace, were those real Night Crawlers? He’d never seen them outside of storybooks. It was like Rafal had dredged himself out of a storybook, out of the deep undersea, like a myth among myths.

Rhian would have concluded it was blood, but it couldn’t be, could it?

Thoughts?

[arisenreborn]

5 Character Associations - Olivia

EMOTIONS/FEELINGS:

Proud determination and defiance. Eschews tradition, sometimes with a childish petulance. (Nevertheless, perhaps hypocritically, loves traditions that let her dress up and have fun.)

Charismatic; positive and friendly, she seeks to protect and uplift others, naturally drawing people to her

Confident, sometimes to a fault. She pursues her path and what she believes is right without hesitation - (if she hesitates, she's likely to spiral into one doubt after another...)

Passionate. Very much of the "go big or go home" sentiment: Work Hard, Party Harder. She wants to experience everything fully, no half-measures, nothing half-hearted.

Has deep-seated hurts related to emotional abandonment and not being good enough that really ought to be addressed but she'd rather just keep working herself raw to prove herself than sit too long to do the hard emotional work.

COLOURS:

sapphire blue

emerald green

blue goldstone

iridescent opal

amethyst purple

SCENTS:

lavender & honey - (her bathing go-to's)

the fresh green scents of vermund's wilderness

wheat & oxen - (she spends a lot of time in the fields outside of Vernworth)

new - new leather, new steel, most everything she's wearing has a scent of 'newness' to it, fresh bought and yet to be tested.

iron & fire - (she spends a lot of time around the smithy)

OBJECTS:

Necklace of elven make - said to be an heirloom of an ancestor, she was the only one in this day and age to care for it.

Tramont family amulet - denotes her as a member of the family, despite kind of being disowned.

Wolf fang - while she has many of these, this one she had crafted into a necklace - it was the first 'gift' Emrys gave her.

Crow mask - for masquerades or skullduggery, it is equal parts beautifully ornate and alluring, and frightfully forbidding.

Hand mirror - Made of pewter and engraved with ornate birds and flowers, it was a gift from her younger sister when she left the family estate.

BODY LANGUAGE:

Open - almost dangerously so. Any drill instructor of the knights would reprimand her for being so lax. But she's quick like a spring to respond, and thinks that 'laxness' is what better enables 'flexibility'.

Flowing, each step feels like a dance. She turns to someone calling her name and smiles, waving, as the sunlight dances around her - like a moving image of some princess from a storybook.

Almost princely, charming, bends and yields around the object of her attention, gently guiding touches as if leading a dance.

White knuckles. Her whole body tenses seeing soldiers beat down on civilians. Nostrils flared, cold resolution in the eyes. She sees the solution, and acts without remorse.

A dull look in her usually shining, lively eyes, a slouch in her shoulders. Only one person sees it, behind the closed doors of their abode. Tired, so tired of fighting and constantly trying to prove herself and- and then it's quickly gone. The light sparks anew, and she presses onward. She isn't doing this for herself, after all.

AESTHETICS:

swords & shields - to protect, not just to defend but to slay

fresh fruit with honey

beautiful, fancy dresses of many colors

bloody knuckles, bruised cheeks, a cut lip, circles under the eyes

shimmering goblets of wine & glittering masquerade halls VS overflowing mugs of ale & raucous, crowded taverns

SONGS:

Florence + The Machine - King

The Oh Hellos - Second Child, Restless Child

Laura Marling - Hope in the Air

Beyoncé - I Was Here

Florence + The Machine - I'm Not Calling You A Liar

[super-mario-somethings]

twilight house fic ch. 1

[A/N: hello! i just wanted to put my writing out into the tumblr world and hopefully reach other fanfic writers!! plz enjoy this first chapter of my ongoing super mario fic, which is currently untitled, but there's ghosts, intrigue, cultist stuff, the works!!!]

It was just a house in the woods.

Unlike the haunted mansion he’d recently cleansed and fixed up, Luigi had known of the Twilight House since before he’d lived in the Mushroom Kingdom. Back in Brooklyn, New York, the Twilight House was the thing of children’s storybooks—not unlike the Mushroom Kingdom itself. But Luigi had seen the Kingdom, knew the castle’s corridors like the veins in his pale hands—and now, towering above him, stood the Twilight House. Most of the windows were shattered and vines twisted through its wooden frame. Various mosses grew along the foundation.

“Ready?” a delicate voice asked him from his side.

“Jesus—” Luigi jumped, already feeling spooked by the House’s atmosphere. The woman beside him chuckled and placed a reassuring hand on his arm. Dressed in leggings and a baggy T-shirt, she didn’t look like the Princess, but rather she looked like Sapphire—like her true self. Luigi felt soothed by her touch and her presence and allowed his shoulders to relax.

“Sorry,” he said. “Y-yeah, I think I’m ready.”

“Ready as we’ll ever be, right?” Sapphire winked at him, a smile on her lips. 

Every conceivable terrifying assumption about what was in the house flooded Luigi’s mind. 

“Right,” he said, doing his best to return Sapphire’s smile.

Luigi and Sapphire both grabbed their flashlights from their utility belts and clicked them on. They exchanged a glance tinged with nerves.

“All right,” Sapphire said, stepping ahead of Luigi onto the first porch step. It groaned under her weight—Luigi wondered when the last time was that anyone had stepped there. 

Sapphire reached the porch and motioned for Luigi to follow her; he quickly ascended the steps and crept closely behind her, his head on a swivel.

The porch had once wrapped around the entire house, Luigi could tell, but termites or some other critters had eaten away most of it, so that the other part of the porch was inaccessible from both sides. Luigi supposed they were lucky the front door wasn’t blocked, somehow, though he felt rather the opposite of lucky in that moment. The hand holding the flashlight trembled; Luigi fought to keep it to a minimum. 

In front of him, Sapphire took in a breath. 

“Okay,” she said through the exhale, and nudged the front door with her shoulder. The rusty hinges clattered to the ground in pieces and the door fell to the ground with a thud! 

Luigi caught Sapphire’s arm just in time to save her from falling inside with the door. 

“Are you okay?” he asked her, his voice unsteady.

Sapphire grunted and squared her shoulders, wincing.

“Yeah, but the arm you caught is gonna be sore tomorrow, I bet,” she said. “But I’d rather that than a face full of splinters from the damn door.”

Luigi chuckled softly, unable to hide the lump of fear in his throat.

Sapphire turned to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Lu, you really don’t have to come with me—I mean, I still wouldn’t go alone, but I could ask Mario or—”

Luigi thought of losing his brother again, let alone in another spooky house, and his spine straightened.

“No,” he said. “No, I…really need to do this.”

Sapphire hummed sympathetically, then let go of his shoulder.

“Just say the word, though, and we can leave. Promise.”

Luigi nodded, and she smiled. She turned back to the doorframe, peering into the blackness of the Twilight House.

“Right, then,” Sapphire said, aiming her flashlight inside. “Let’s get going.”

🍄

Luigi frowned as he inspected the bookshelf before him, holding his breath as he dusted off the spines with his gloved fingers. Each book appeared to be leather-bound, the words on each spine inked in a script Luigi didn’t recognize.

“Saph?” Luigi called over his shoulder. He didn’t move his gaze from the shelf; a floor-to-ceiling piece, each shelf filled to bursting with knowledge.

Sapphire appeared beside him within seconds, eyes sparkling. “Oh! Books? Hell yes! What language?”

“Not sure.” Luigi pulled one volume out from the shelf at his eye level and handed it to her. “What do you think?”

“Hmm.” Sapphire took the book and shone her flashlight on it, carefully turning it over in her grasp to catch different angles in the light. 

“Something about this seems familiar,” she murmured. “Do you think I could open it if I’m careful?”

Luigi shook his head. “Remember, we’re here to collect. We’ll analyze what we collect when we get back to the lab.”

Sapphire huffed. “You’re right,” she said, kneeling to place the volume in her backpack. “Damn you and your overactive left brain…”

Luigi chuckled, his shoulders relaxing a little. Exploring and collecting with Sapphire always felt like something akin to coming home. 

Sapphire had just stood up when she furrowed her brow. “It’s…brighter in here.” 

Luigi looked around the room—sure enough, he could see parts of it that he wasn’t shining his flashlight on. “What…”

“Look!” Sapphire whispered.

Luigi followed her finger’s direction until his gaze landed on…

“The bookshelf?” Luigi said, perplexed. Either he had lost his mind, or there was a soft glow emitting from the old wood, from the aged books. He’d been staring at it for a long moment when he noticed it was getting tough to look at without squinting—was it getting brighter?

“Lu, shield your eyes!” Sapphire confirmed his fear with her command.

Luigi closed his eyes and buried his face in the crook of his elbow. Was this the end, somehow? Was this bookshelf going to bury them both in light so bright it became thick and tangible, like gelatin in the oxygen, to be choked and gagged on until they just…died? Luigi’s throat tightened and he squeezed his eyes shut tighter.

“Okay.” Sapphire’s calm tone directly juxtaposed Luigi’s own internal dialogue. “Okay. You can open your eyes.”

“What?” Luigi asked. He didn’t move.

“I’m serious, open your eyes.”

Luigi reluctantly removed his arm from his face and obliged, expecting to see Sapphire and reeling at what he saw instead.

A ghost. More specifically, a Boo—and not just any. A being Luigi believed to be King Boo hovered before him, its glowing gaze cast downward at him. A crown forged from dark metal floated above the King, a large purple gemstone seated in its center.

Before he could react, Luigi felt a cold sensation creep up behind him, and when he tried to whirl around, his entire body was stuck in place. A wave of exhaustion hit Luigi like a punch in the stomach. He felt his body relax; he still couldn’t move, but instead of being stuck upright, he fell to the ground in a heap. Luigi didn’t register that he’d hit his head on the way down; everything just went black, all at once.

[saphstories]

Imagine: The Ghost House AU:

Sonic's Death:

30 years ago, Sonic the Hedgehog had been a normal teenager living with his parents, Phlox and Domino the Hedgehogs, until his untimely death at sixteen years old, when he went exploring in the woods and became lost. He literally stumbled upon a frozen lake and fell in, becoming trapped under the ice and drowning. The lake in which he drowned sat on the property of an old abandoned house... a house that inhabited three other spirits... ghosts of the young that had died untimely deaths on the property. Maria and her brother Shadow, and a bat called Rouge. (Amy, Silver, and Tails came after Sonic.) With nowhere else to go, Sonic stayed at the Ghost House, founding the competition of terrorizing the house's new owners.

[ninadove]

Ok, I'll bite, what is "The Miraculous Tales of Chat Noir"?

Yesss I love this one! Thank you! 🖤🐈‍⬛

As you may recall, Chat Noir got his hero name from a storybook Emilie read him as a child. This fic is an attempt at recreating the storybook in question, while of course exploring characters from canon.

My favourite part is that it has a very, very passive-aggressive narrator, who is very, very aware of the tropes:

“My love,” he announced, “I believe I have found the answer to your woes. You wish for a friend, but tremble at the thought of the cruelty of man. You wish for a companion that will be pure of heart, free of any passions, and as entirely devoted to you as I am.”

“My beautiful husband, this is certainly true,” the wife said, dreamily. “But I do not believe there is a single soul in this kingdom that fits this description, apart from your own.”

“My love, you are giving me too much credit. Such souls are everywhere around us: they watch over the sapphire skies; they follow you along as you trail the path to the forest; they hide in magnificent caves and under the humblest of pebbles. Animals, beloved, are better people than people themselves; and so, it stands to reason than the only person worthy of your affection is, in fact, not a person. Name any creature you would like by your side, as big or tiny as you want, as dangerous or rare as you desire; your wish is my command; there are no lengths I would not go to to see you smile again.”

The wife agreed that it was a wonderful idea, because her husband’s ideas were always wonderful; but, like many heroines before her, she was too virtuous, too humble to ask for a dragon, for a unicorn or for a phoenix. Instead, she interrogated her heart, searching for the perfect companion.

“My beautiful husband, I ask only one thing of you. I want my new friend to be just like me: curious, but attached to its home; graceful, but protective.”

“What you want, beloved, is a cat,” the husband said, for he was well-traveled and had met many creatures in his younger years. “A cat will curl up by your feet in winter; a cat will laze next to you in the sun; a cat will stand on the rooftop in the darkest of nights, protecting you against nefarious spirits. I shall find you the most beautiful cat there is, as beautiful and perfect as you are; and it will keep your heart warm, when I am unable to do so.”

And so, it was agreed that the husband would find his bride the prettiest, the smartest, the most perfect cat in existence.

Totally normal behaviour, and not a metaphor for anything. This is fine. Everything is fine.

[saphstories]

STELLA YOU AMAZING WONDERFUL STAR YOU!!!!!!!!!

MY BABY GIRL!!!!!!! SHE LOOKS SO GOOD!!!!!!!

I LOVE HER SO MUCH AINAEOFNEWAOGAOBEOGBA;OGBAGBA

Welp...

MLP OUTFIT BLAST 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO

Ft my mutual's fankids!

Elise by @the-sky-queen

Liz by @somemismatchedsocks

Cinamint by @totaleclipse573

Sakura by @ekaycheem

Ivory by me

Luna by @saphstories

Models below cut

[laura-sanchez-mlp]

Storyteller Owl My NEW MSA X Poppy Playtime OC

Full Name: Storyteller Owl

Nickname: Mr Storyteller Owl, the Storyteller Owl one, the little Storyteller Owl

Short name: Storyteller Owl

Gender: Male

Profile Pic

Age: 12

Blood Type: E

Scent: Chocolate chips

Occupation:

Actual or Past Occupation:

Favourite Shows/Games: ___/___/___

(___,___,___)

Favourite Food:

Instrument:

Favourite Animal: N/A

Family Members Relatives:

Other Family Members Relatives:

Species: Toy Owl

Friends: Bobby BearHug, Bubba Bubbaphant, CraftyCorn, DogDay, Hoppy Hopscotch, KickinChicken and PickyPiggy (The Smiling Critters/his new friends), Cheerful Unicat, Lonely-Sad Goat, Bravefoxie Fox, Me (Laura/his favourite owner toy), Sardonyx the Poltercat, Sarah/You, Samantha the Polter Dog/Kitsune, Sapphire the Dog/Kitsune,

Enemies: Catnap, The Prototype,

Alignment: Good

Personality: Friendly, Heroic, Playful, Kind, Adventurous, Smart and Brave

Likes: Telling kids some fairytales storybooks, Reading Fairytales Stories, Storybooks

Dislikes: The poppy gas, Being Scared, Not reading stories, his storybooks gets destroyed and

Hobby: Reading books,

Goals: To survived from catnap's poppy gas and to defeat Catnap (Both Succeeded)

Weapons:

Powers and Abilities:

Skills and Abilities:

Fears/Phobias:

Skin Colour: Light Brown colour

Eyes Colour: White

Hair Colour: Light Brown colour

Clothes:

Shoes:

Accessories: Bow tie short and Necklace with Book

Hair Styles:

Nationality:

Sexuality:

@sfcabanasstarcgs and @mysteryideasgroup

[sinthedrinker]

Diluc x F! Reader

is a princess kink a thing

Living as Diluc’s wife felt as close to being a Princess as I could imagine. He had saved me one night, rescuing me from a predator during his vigilante activities. I had been new to Mondsdat at the time, foreign and afraid, and it was the first time we had ever even seen each other. In his arms as he carried me from danger I felt transfixed. He was like a hero from a storybook, a masked man saving poor downtrodden damsels in the night. It seemed he was just as fascinated, continuing to hold me long after we were safe. 

"Rare to see an unfamiliar face." He said, setting me on my feet though keeping an arm around me, pressing me close to him. 

"I just moved here.. I didn't expect to get into trouble so soon." I said. 

"I can't say I'm upset that you did. I wouldn't have gotten to save you if you hadn't. Tell me your name." 

"Huaxiu." I said.

"From Liyue I presume." He replied. I nodded shyly. 

"I don't suppose you'll tell me your name?" 

Surprisingly, he removed his mask. 

"Diluc. It doesn't make sense to keep my identity a secret from someone I intend to invite to my home." 

Diluc had invited me to his estate for wine. Once, twice, thrice, until it was a weekly occurrence. Discussing our lives, our pasts, our plans for the future until he revealed he intended to formally court me, to bring me out with him in public and eventually he proposed. Our engagement and our wedding were the spectacle of Mondsdat, considering most of the city assumed Diluc would be a perpetual bachelor. But being married to him was blissful, however he came off in professional spaces, he was incredibly attentive and affectionate when we were alone. 

Diluc had selected most of my wardrobe. He was particularly fond of dressing me in jewel tones, dark red gowns for dinner parties, sapphire blue dresses for wine tastings and an emerald green nightgown made of such fine, soft velvet I always felt guilty when it ended up discarded on the floor. 

I had fallen asleep trying to wait for him to return from a dinner with some of his business associates, the sound of our bedroom door opening awoke me. I watched him go to the closet and remove his clothes, stripping down to just a pair of black briefs before sitting by our shared vanity to take his hair down and brush it. He noticed me watching him in the mirror and smiled. 

“You know you don’t have to wait up for me.” he said. 

“I had fallen asleep, you woke me up!” I responded. 

“I’m sorry Princess, I hadn’t meant to disturb you.” he said, getting up and walking over to me. He bent down to kiss my forehead, his long hair tickling me as he did. I wrapped my arms around his neck, unwilling to let go of him. 

"You'll have to release me if you want me to get into bed with you." He said, stroking my hair affectionately. 

"You aren't going out again tonight are you? No vigilante justice to doll out?" 

Diluc laughed as I released him and he climbed into bed. 

"No, thankfully. Tonight I intend to give my full  attention to my beloved wife." 

Diluc pulled me towards him, pressing my head to his chest and cradling me tightly. His body was always so warm, and he smelled of mulled wine. Cinnamon and cloves. 

"There is no greater comfort than this." He said quietly. 

"To have you and hold you, I pity anyone who would try to pry you from me." He said, his voice dripping with venom. I held him in return, wrapping strands of his thick hair around my fingers. 

"No one will take me from you. I am yours, as you are mine." I said. 

Diluc rolled onto his back, taking me with him. For a while he just held me to his chest and I listened to his heart beat. He was lean and muscular, dark red hair on his chest and arms and below his navel to frame his half-hard, girthy cock.

“I love you Princess.” he said, rubbing my back gently. I sat up, pulling his briefs down and straddling his waist, his cock brushing against my ass as he became more aroused. 

“I love you too.” I said, smiling gently at him as he held onto my hips, rubbing his thumbs over my hip bones. I began to slide back and forth along his shaft, covering him in slick as his eyes fluttered shut. 

"Sweet, lovely Princess. So warm and soft.." He mumbled. I reached down with one hand to align him with my entrance, steadying myself with the other on his chest. He released one of my hips to grab my hand, squeezing it as I slowly lowered myself, taking him into me inch by inch. Diluc's eyes were fixed on the place where we were joined, watching his cock disappear inside of me and sighing when I enveloped him completely. 

He squeezed my hand as I slowly began to move, my breasts bouncing slightly much to Diluc's enjoyment. 

"You feel so good darling, my precious princess, positively angelic.." He said, grabbing my hips and moving me up and down, raising his hips to meet me with every thrust. 

"Diluc.. My legs hurt, c-can we switch?" I asked after a while. Diluc smiled kindly at me and helped me off of him. 

"Actually, I'd like to try something." He took my hand and led me before the vanity. 

He picked me up beneath my thighs, facing the vanity mirror. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he lowered me onto his cock. 

"I wanted you to see how beautiful you look when you're impaled on my cock. It isn't fair that only I get to see it." He whispered in my ear as I tangled my fingers in his hair. 

"Look how lovely your cunt looks, Princess. Completely exposed, spread for me.." He sighed quietly, using his firm grip on my thighs to bounce me up and down on his cock roughly. I clung to him as much as I could from this angle, watching my breasts bounce and staring with fascination at how spread open I was, my clit exposed as his cock pounded into me over and over, lewd noises filling the room as he became more and more covered in slick. 

“Ahh, Princess, I’m going to cum.” he whispered, he was always so quiet during sex, becoming noisy only when he finished. He lowered me back to the ground, bending me over the vanity table to continue fucking me from behind, laying over my back and reaching between my legs to rub my clit in fast circles. 

“Cum with me Princess, I want to feel you cum around my cock.” he said through gritted teeth. I closed my eyes, focusing on his rough fingers on my clit, his thick cock stretching me out and his warm body over mine, his breath hot against my neck. 

"Ahh- Diluc, I'm gonna cum-" I gasped, my legs shaking as I came, my cunt fluttering and clenching around his cock. Diluc sucked and nipped at my neck as he came, his hips bucking wildly as he filled me with so much cum it leaked out of me, running down my thighs. When he finally calmed down he released me, going to the bathroom to fetch a cloth to clean me up with. I felt like I could hardly move from the vanity table and he picked me up, easily carrying me back to bed and tucking me in before climbing in beside me and holding me tightly. 

"I love you Princess." he said, stroking my hair and kissing my forehead. 

"I love you, my Prince." 

[gazetotheabyss]

Mr. Prickles

-Me and Mr. Prickles- 

        -Courtney, Age 6, Mrs. Rathbone's Art Class 

    Courtney enamored herself on the idea of magic. Running around the backyard, swinging her arm around with sticks firm in grasp, casting spells upon whatever object caught her eye. Blasting forth any magic words that struck her mind. Mother and father perhaps not as attentive as they should have been, but their yard was fenced in, they were friends with all their neighbors. In their mind there was no wrong that could have been had from playing pretend all by herself for hours on end after a long day in the First Grade. 

    And those beautiful sapphire eyes saw little problem in taking advantage either. Sparkling at the worlds of fantasy she made in her little head. Creatures of fantastical origin, lands of mystical colors and shape, all manner of thing she hadn't the words yet to express in totality. But it didn't matter, it was just her. And she had known exactly what she pictured, saw it crystal clear as the day before her. 

    Maybe that's why it gave her pause. Stopped her mid-prance amid the taller grass, dead in her tracks. 

"Hello." She called out politely. By all stretches she knew she didn't think that up, but it still was here. Standing well and far above her, a blackened shape even on such a bright day. He-- though it was amorphous she had arbitrarily assigned it a title-- was funny looking. "I'm Courtney." She enthusiastically called out. 

    "Honey who are you talking to?" Her mother curiously balked from the patio door, peaking her head out just to be sure. Catching sight of her daughter, and only that across the whole stretch of the yard. 

    "New friend." Courtney said so calmly, staring so happily at the shape that stood at the rear of the yard, back to her mother, she should have been able to see, right? 

    But she didn't. 

    "Oh yeah, a new friend?" The dulcet tones of a mother who was just as readily taking as much stock as if she were listening to her child proclaim they lifted a million billion tons of rock. 

    "Yeah!" At least she thought so. She wasn't afraid, should she have been? If so, why? There he had stood! Majestic as any other! Grazing among the fields in both her imagination and the reality of the yard that her eyes were still beholden to. While the figure had started as a blurry figure, out of focus in a world of sharpness slowly took its shape from her mind. The outline of what it should be. Long gangly limbs with extended fingers, body thin as a rail, head sharp and narrow. 

    "Okay, honey, but remember to keep your shirt clean, you go back to school tomorrow." 

    "Okay." But she wasn't listening anymore, she was approaching the thing that stood. Observing her. "You're the king aren't you? You gotta be. I'm the sauceress. If you're a king, you need a crown. But not a normal crown, somethin' cool." As she thinks and processes what it could be, the gaps are filled in for her. Spiraling out of its skull and ending in points, the horns form. Cheerfully she beams! "Yes! Like that. But I don't like that you don't got eyes." How was she supposed to know where he was looking? A king should be able to look upon his kingdom and see it thrive proudly. And as the thought struck her, two white pinpricks form accordingly. Set at the base of its pointed gaunt snout. 

    "No! Somethin' with color. Red-- No-- Green!-- No..." It compromises her thought, giving both, but neither. Ever shifting between the two. A mesmerizing ethereal dance of her favorite colors that delights the young girl. And still yet, in her mind, this figure was missing something. Something distinct, to set it aside even further as regal! She recalls all the kings she saw in her storybooks, their broad cloaks of fur bunched at the neck, puffing up-- But-- If he was gonna be different, he needed to be different. She liked hedgehogs and their little prickles, what about instead of a collar of fur, tufted up it was-- 

    On cue to please the active imagination, it gave her what she imagined. Large quills sprouted and flourished from his throat, and she practically dances with excitement. 

    "Yes, just like that! How'd you know?" Forgetting for a moment that she had all but completely made this figure herself. That it had started as nothing but a blurry shape that she had brought to life. "Now you need a name. So I got something to call you when we play." Fearlessly, she stands within a foot of it, staring up at those mystifying eyes that gazed right back at her. Lost in thought, myriads of shapes and letters fill her mind. Names she'd never thought of or heard before, ones she would undoubtedly even have had trouble pronouncing-- Even with her incredible power as a 'sauceress', some things were beyond her reach, especially as teeth continued to come and go. 

    "How do ya feel about Mr. Prickles?" But it didn't react, just continued to stare back into her beads of proud sparkling sapphire. "Then it's settled! Mr. Prickles! King of the Dreamdom!" With her new regent coronated, and her so dutifully at his service, she continued her game. Casting spells and dancing across the whole of the yard, as both the sun in her mind and of reality began to set, and she was called in for dinner. 

    At the dinner table, she sat, dangling her feet from her chair proudly. Prodding at her food with fork in hand, telling her tired mother and father all about her new friend. One who had arisen some level of concern in their mind until she told them he was sitting beside her. Oh, an imaginary friend. Easing of blood pressure, sighs of relief. But would that feeling still be there if they could see this creature that had laid claim to her fantasies? Twice as tall as her protective father, sat in the empty chair beside the much smaller thing it had enthralled, knees bent as it sat but still raised from how large it was in a chair so small. Eyes transfixed upon father first, boring into his mind, clawing into his soul bit by bit. 

    "Daddy, he likes you." The hairs on the back of his neck stiffened. Like primordial warning against some terrible danger was near. 

    "Oh yeah? That's great honey." 

    "He likes looking at you. Think he's inch rested in what you think about his Dreamdom." 

    "Maybe you should draw me a picture and then I can tell him." It suddenly was a fantasy he wasn't particularly interested in indulging with her anymore. Something of a sinking feeling sat in the pit of his gut. 

    "I wanted to, but he says it's incomp--" It doesn't truly speak to her, not really, merely sat beside her. Filling her imagination with all sorts of delights, coaching her silently. "Incomp--" She struggles, but it breaks it down for her. Syllable by syllable to sound out. "In-Comp-read-hens-able." 

    "Where'd you hear that word?" Said with a forced laugh, one punctuated with a shovel of food poured into his mouth. 

    "Mr. Prickles!" A story he doesn't quite buy. Had to have heard it in a cartoon or something, children didn't teach themselves new words. Smiles were had, politely the conversation diverted, reminding the young girl of her return to school tomorrow. Which she silently thought with glee of how Mr. Prickles would come with her. Join her in her favorite classes, especially on Monday! Monday was Art Class. She wanted to draw her new friend, show him just how much she had appreciated him being the only friend she had. 

    As she lays herself down to sleep, her imaginary friend sits itself dutifully by the bed. Those small fingers of hers reached out, claiming his long thin bony digit for herself, holding his hand as she drifted off to sleep. Gifted was she with pleasant and wonderful dreams that night, every night had always been a new adventure, but now, the kingdom she had dreamt up had so much more. Magic had manifested itself in ways she couldn't understand thanks to Mr. Prickles. 

    What had usually been an anxiety for her, in going to school, had become a journey she looked forward to making. With her new friend by her side, she felt a vigor in those little steps that she honestly couldn't fully grasp. Happiness in knowing she had her friend with her. The king was mighty, her head barely reached to its knee when standing, its hands had been the size of her entire upper body. Who would harm or bully her with such a friend? If the ones who were mean to her were lucky, maybe they would get to be servants or clowns in the king's court. 

    For a time, things are normal, the only change to the day beyond the added presence was the beaming smile of the child's face. Art class rolls around, and with crayons in hand, she crafts masterpieces in her head that could scantly be understood by even the most disciplined of critics! They would never understand the portrait of a king and his trusted and dutiful sauceress. Still, she wished others could see him. 

    At recess, her disappointment had become palpable. Sat alone with her friend on the bench, while the other kids played and ran. This wasn't his kingdom; this wasn't the fun she wanted. These weren't the subjects that he'd wanted. Breaking away, she sneaks to a quiet corner out of the sun, a peaceful place to color more fine pieces of art for the king to decorate his glorious halls. 

    But she's followed. By more than just her imaginary friend. 

    One of the boys who had targeted her with his ire had found particular amusement in the freakish nature of her new obsession. The only thing she'd talked to anyone about the entirety of the day. Her little imaginary friend. Her attention hyperfocused was when he felt the perfect time to strike. Pulling from her lap her newest drawing of the tall black figure. 

    "You know, only babies have imaginary friends." 

    "He's not imaginary." She doesn't get belligerent, does not raise her voice or head, just stares at her knees where her paper had once been. "He's real, and he's a king. And he's cooler than you Sam." 

    "Nuh uh, there's no such thing as magic. And only one who's king is you, of being weird." 

    "I'm not weird, and magic is real." She asserts quietly. The year almost over, she laments that at the very least she needn't endure this miserable suffering too much longer. She had learned rather quickly that fighting it had been of little help. If she just kept her head down, and kept her tears quiet, he'd leave her alone eventually. 

    "Little weirdo crybaby, and her stupid devil friend." Like the jester she'd envisioned, he dances with her picture. 

    "I'm not a weirdo, and he's not a devil, he's a king!" She breaks her own rule, the childish fury far too powerful for her to have ignored, and insulting her only friend had broken a boundary she hadn't known she'd had. 

    "Can't be a king if he's not real. Just a stupid drawing." He stuck his tongue out, mocking her as he shook about, until in a sudden moment, ripping her drawing down the center, and throwing the crumpled pieces to the ground. Courtney felt a twinge of sadness and pain overtake her in that moment, the work and monument to her dearest friend treated with such disrespect. All that effort had gone to waste, because he wouldn't leave her alone. Jumping to her feet in her own instant motion, she points her crayon to him as though it were her mighty wand. 

    "Leave me alone!" She called through a defiant scowl, shouting immediately in it following a brash measure of magic words. Of which, nothing immediate comes. 

    Stopped still in his tracks at her sudden outburst, Sam can do little but laugh after she tried to cast a spell at him. "See! Magic's not real stupid!" With a pointed finger, mocking her obviously ridiculous stance. He laughed so hard he thought he was going to cry. Something that needn't be thought much longer. 

    Shock lights up both their faces when a force, invisible in totality to them both, snaps his finger downward in a harsh break. Silence falls over both of them for a short second, until the shock wears away for Sam, making way for only pain. Agonizing terrible pain. Blubbering snotty crying filled the full breadth of the playground, but no one came... It was like no one was listening. Then she looks over at the king, regal as he was. Still merely standing there. Was he doing this? 

    The girl smiles, a devious little wretched thing that stretched wide from ear to ear. 

    "Who's the crybaby now?" He deserved to suffer a year's worth of torture and humiliation. She hadn't thought so before, but now that it was happening it was all she wanted. It was why when she points her utensil at him again, she utters more distinct magic words, and screams are silenced. Replaced by the wretched sound of flesh splitting from bone, meat and sinew tearing itself apart fragment by fragment as the young boy unraveled himself. Terror alight in his eyes for the fleeting seconds there were still eyes to display them. And in mere moments? There wasn't even the blood or mess of gore that had made itself of her classmate. Only ash and dust that had blown itself away on the call of the wind. 

    The whistle blows to signal the end of recess, and Courtney walks herself back to class with a beaming smile. The enemy of her kingdom vanquished, the honor of her king restored. When panic starts to arise in her classmates and the faculty, she knows to do so when she's instructed to keep silent about her magic from the wordless commands of Mr. Prickles. 

    And she got to go home early too. Mr. Prickles had made this the best day of school she'd ever had. 

    Dinner was quiet. 

    Mom and dad had asked her questions about her 'friend'-- They called him that, not her. She told him she didn't know, insisted in fact. 

    "I was playing with Mr. Prickles, I don't know where he went."' 

    "I think you shouldn't play this Mr. Prickles game anymore, honey." Her father chided, sliding away the drawing she'd proudly brought to the table. "I think you should find some real friends." 

    "He is real." 

    "Maybe talk to some of the other kids at school." 

    "I don't like the other kids at school." 

    "They're going to think you're weird if all you do is play with and talk about your imaginary friend." 

    "He's not imaginary." She feels that fire in her belly again, burning with hatred. "He's real! I told you, I told you he's real! And you don't believe me!" 

    "Goddammit, Courtney he's not real! There's no one else in the room but me, you and your mother! Stop this delusional--" 

    "He's real he's real he's real!" The screams are shrill, angry, and just as she had with Sam before, she jumps to her feet. She didn't want to kill her father, but he had to see. See that magic was real, Mr. Prickles was real, and all these adventures she was having were not just her imagination. Courtney had a duty as the king's sidekick. So she utters the magic words. 

    Unlike with Sam, the effect is not delayed, but the intent to not kill is kept in mind. The large from of her father is sent bursting into the cabinets behind him. Splintered wood and shattered glass and porcelain fill the kitchen floor. When he rose back to his feet, terror burning in those eyes as he looked at his daughter, she assaulted him again. Her fork pointed as her mighty weapon, she sent him out of the dining room, through the patio door and into their backyard. For a few moments he lay there, silently groaning. Her mother shocked as she stood without a word, broke from her planted position to run and check on her injured husband. 

    While they are distracted, their daughter left through the front. Losing herself away in the night, joined at her side by her imaginary friend. 

    "You're real. I know you are." 

    And it merely stared back as they walked. 

    "I don't wanna be in this world anymore." 

    And still it just stared. 

    "Take me to have real adventures." 

And so, it did.