#how ribbeting...

[sillymagicfroggie]

was playing final remix with a friend (their first time playing, and we're not gonna count what number replay im on) and they play it on tv with joycons (terrifying actually, i don't know how they haven't quit) and since i'm used to the small switch screen and the tv screen can show so much more detail i went "omg i never noticed the thought bubbles are outlined in a slight gray, not the same black outline as the speech bubbles!! wow new details!"

they look at me and go "you know that encanto tweet about the corn plate?"

•__•

[midnightmoonbeams]

Eddy Belly drew a Cohozuna, captioned, "Big Run? I AM the Big Run!" Hubba105 drew a witchy Salmonid! 8ribbit drew a froggie, captioned, "how ribbiting." Peepo drew a smallfry, screaming, "BAM!" maru drew Frye as a Thinkling, using 100% Brain Power.

From October 27th, 2022

If you'd like to join me for some future Big Run shenanigans, you can find me streaming my gameplay of it over on my Twitch channel. I'm open to playing with viewers!

[enter-drfrog]

hehe changed my silly little name on my silly little blog

[staff]

We Asked an Expert...in Herpetology!

People on Tumblr come from all walks of life and all areas of expertise to grace our dashboards with paragraphs and photographs of the things they want to share with the world. Whether it's an artist uploading their speed art, a fanfic writer posting their WIPs, a language expert expounding on the origin of a specific word, or a historian ready to lay down the secrets of Ea-nasir, the hallways of Tumblr are filled with specialists sharing their knowledge with the world. We Asked an Expert is a deep dive into those expert brains on tumblr dot com. Today, we’re talking to Dr. Mark D. Scherz (@markscherz), an expert in Herpetology. Read on for some ribbeting frog facts, including what kind of frog the viral frog bread may be based on.

Reptiles v Amphibians. You have to choose one.

In a battle for my heart, I think amphibians beat out the reptiles. There is just something incredibly good about beholding a nice plump frog.

In a battle to the death, I have to give it to the reptiles—the number of reptiles that eat amphibians far, far outstrips the number of amphibians that eat reptiles.

In terms of ecological importance, I would give it to the amphibians again, though. Okay, reptiles may keep some insects and rodents in check, but many amphibians live a dual life, starting as herbivores and graduating to carnivory after metamorphosis, and as adults they are critical for keeping mosquitos and other pest insects in check.

What is the most recent exciting fact you discovered about herps?

This doesn’t really answer your question, but did you know that tadpole arms usually develop inside the body and later burst through the body wall fully formed? I learned about this as a Master’s student many years ago, but it still blows my mind. What’s curious is that this apparently does not happen in some of the species of frogs that don’t have tadpoles—oh yeah, like a third of all frogs or something don’t have free-living tadpoles; crazy, right? They just develop forelimbs on the outside of the body like all other four-legged beasties. But this has only really been examined in a couple species, so there is just so much we don’t know about development, especially in direct-developing frogs. Like, how the hell does it just… swap from chest-burster to ‘normal’ limb development? Is that the recovery of the ancestral programming, or is it newly generated? When in frog evolution did the chest-burster mode even evolve?

How can people contribute to conservation efforts for their local herps?

You can get involved with your local herpetological societies if they exist—and they probably do, as herpetologists are everywhere. You can upload observations of animals to iNaturalist, where you can get them identified while also contributing to datasets on species distribution and annual activity used by research scientists.

You can see if there are local conservation organizations that are doing any work locally, and if you find they are not, then you can get involved to try to get them started. For example, if you notice areas of particularly frequent roadkill, talking to your local council or national or local conservation organizations can get things like rescue programs or road protectors set up. You should also make sure you travel carefully and responsibly. Carefully wash and disinfect your hiking boots, especially between locations, as you do not want to be carrying chytrid or other nasty infectious diseases across the world, where they can cause population collapses and extinctions.

Here are some recent headlines. Quick question, what the frog is going on in the frog world? 

Click through for Mark’s response to these absolutely wild headlines, more about his day-to-day job, his opinion on frog bread, and his favorite Tumblr.

✨D I S C O V E R Y✨

There are more people on Earth than ever before, with the most incredible technology that advances daily at their disposal, and they disperse that knowledge instantly. That means more eyes and ears observing, recording, and sharing than ever before. And so we are making big new discoveries all the time, and are able to document them and reach huge audiences with them.

That being said, these headlines also showcase how bad some media reporting has gotten. The frogs that scream actually scream mostly in the audible range—they just have harmonics that stretch up into ultrasound. So, we can hear them scream, we just can’t hear all of it. Because the harmonics are just multiples of the fundamental, they would anyway only add to the overall ‘quality’ of the sound, not anything different. The mushroom was sprouting from the flank of the frog, and scientists are not really worried about it because this is not how parasitic fungi work, and this is probably a very weird fluke. And finally, the Cuban tree frogs (Osteocephalus septentrionalis) are not really cannibals per se; they are just generalist predators who will just as happily eat a frog as they will a grasshopper, but the frogs they are eating are usually other species. People seem to forget that cannibalism is, by definition, within a species. The fact that they are generalist predators makes them a much bigger problem than if they were cannibals—a cannibal would actually kind of keep itself in check, which would be useful. The press just uses this to get people’s hackles up because Westerners are often equal parts disgusted and fascinated by cannibalism. 

What does an average day look like for the curator of herpetology at the Natural History Museum of Denmark?

No two days are the same, and that is one of the joys of the job. I could spend a whole day in meetings, where we might be discussing anything from which budget is going to pay for 1000 magnets to how we could attract big research funding, to what a label is going to say in our new museum exhibits (we are in the process of building a new museum). Equally, I might spend a day accompanying or facilitating a visitor dissecting a crocodile or photographing a hundred snakes. Or it might be divided into one-hour segments that cover a full spectrum: working with one of my students on a project, training volunteers in the collection, hunting down a lizard that someone wants to borrow from the museum, working on one of a dozen research projects of my own, writing funding proposals, or teaching classes. It is a job with a great deal of freedom, which really suits my work style and brain.

Oh yeah, and then every now and then, I get to go to the field and spend anywhere from a couple of weeks to several months tracking down reptiles and amphibians, usually in the rainforest. These are also work days—with work conditions you couldn’t sell to anyone: 18-hour work days, no weekends, no real rest, uncomfortable living conditions, sometimes dangerous locations or working conditions, field kitchen with limited options, and more leeches and other biting beasties than most health and welfare officers would tolerate—but the reward is the opportunity to make new discoveries and observations, collect critical data, and the privilege of getting to be in some of the most beautiful and biodiverse places left on the planet. So, I am humbled by the fact that I have the privilege and opportunity to undertake such expeditions, and grateful for the incredible teams I collaborate with that make all of this work—from the museum to the field—possible.

The Tibetan Blackbird is also known as Turdus maximus. What’s your favorite chortle-inducing scientific name in the world of herpetology?

Among reptiles and amphibians, there aren’t actually that many to choose from, but I must give great credit to my friend Oliver Hawlitschek and his team, who named the snake Lycodryas cococola, which actually means ‘Coco dweller’ in Latin, referring to its occurrence in coconut trees. When we were naming Mini mum, Mini scule, and Mini ature, I was inspired by the incredible list that Mark Isaac has compiled of punning species names, particularly by the extinct parrot Vini vidivici, and the beetles Gelae baen, Gelae belae, Gelae donut, Gelae fish, and Gelae rol. I have known about these since high school, and it has always been my ambition to get a species on this list.

If you were a frog, what frog would you be and why?

I think I would be a Phasmahyla because they’re weird and awkward, long-limbed, and look like they’re wearing glasses. As a 186 cm (6’3) glasses-wearing human with no coordination, they quite resonate with me.

Please rate this frog bread from 1/10. Can you tell us what frog it represents?

With the arms inside the body cavity like that, it can basically only be a brevicipitid rain frog. The roundness of the body fits, too. I’d say probably Breviceps macrops (or should I say Breadviceps?) based on those big eyes. 7/10, a little on the bumpy side and missing a finger and at least one toe.

Please follow Dr. Mark Scherz at @markscherz for even more incredibly educational, entertaining, and meaningful resources in the world of reptiles and amphibians.

[kaythefloppa]

Headcanons Masterpost

I’ve posted a few of my WK headcanons here but not many of them.

even though it's a show that I deeply think about on a regular(??) basis, but since I've got free time, why not? I'll go in no particular order since my organization skills (or lack thereof) outclass Martin's.

Keep in mind that at the time that I’m posting this, the final four episodes of Season 7 are yet to air on PBS Kids. Any headcanons related to Season 7 will obviously be rendered outdated if contradicted by future episodes. Warning; Very Long [also copied and pasted from a post I just made on the fandom subreddit + my FANDOM blog]

Chris and Martin:

They have the same age gap as they do in real life. Unlike real life however, they’re in their 20’s. They graduated high school and college at the same time Aviva did.

They keep in touch with Christine and Susan (their IRL sisters who I HC exist in this universe).

Both of them are both autistic and have ADHD.

Martin can and has beaten Chris in an arm wrestle, but has also lost to him in a chess match.

Both Martin and Chris despise golf (which is valid because that game fucking SUCKS!)

The first animal he ever named was the frog that he and Chris saved from Zach when they were kids. The frog’s name was “Ribbert” , a mix between “ribbet” and “Robert.”

Chris was bullied a lot by Zach when they were kids. Martin stepped in to defend him.

In general, Martin has more beef with Zach than Chris does. It’s why Zach is always quick to capture Chris to spite Martin, and why Martin in general has less hesitance with putting Zach through the most uncomfortable situations (i.e. that one time where he straight up launches Zach into the sky in the Bumblebee episode). Martin may or may not have straight up beaten the tar out of Zach at some point.

Gavin, Ronan, Aidan, and Nolan AREN’T related to them, but they are close family friends.

Neither 2D Martin or 2D Chris are married or in relationships. They’re married to their work if anything.

This is the most popular headcanon in the entire fandom, but the Creature Power Suits have a side-effect on the brothers that results in them being able to gain long-term certain abilities or traits of animals even whilst deactivated. This is why they are able to see clearly underwater, hold their breath longer, why their facial structures can seem a bit off, and most importantly, why they are able to have certain interactions with some animals (like when Chris STANDS ON TOP OF A MOTHERFUCKING POLAR BEAR AND LIVES!).

The events of their previous shows are canon in the WK universe. The crossovers (Odd Squad, Nature Cat, Molly of Denali) are also canon (for more-info, see this post:)

Zach Varmitech:

Was a nepo baby. A simple explanation as to why and how he turned out to be as awful as he was is because he had parents who didn't pay enough attention to him, and thus, never held him accountable for much of anything. It was often the responsibility of Zach's teachers, or even his peers to tell him "no."

On top of that, the Varmitechs making robotics out of animals was a family business.. They never got in trouble with the law because they had that much money, but it only furthered a young Zach to believe he could get away with anything he wanted. He was of course, very oblivious to the negative reception in the court of public opinion that his family had.

He was an only child.

Him attempting to use frogs as his invention was the first time he ever thought of the Zachbots.

Was classmates with Chris, Martin, and Aviva, who all went to the same school. His rivalries would shift every season. During the school year from August to April, his biggest 'haters' were the Kratts. During the summer, from May to July, his nemesis was Aviva during science camp.

He was largely sent to science camp to broaden his education. One of the few times that his parents were attentive of him.

His rivalry with Aviva intially started out on a frenemies thing wehre they tried to outdo each other. Then it turned to actual friendship, but then it became one-sided. I've seen the headcanon of them being an ex-item but in my eyes, things went south way before they could even cross that river, largely due to Zach's unoriginality, his ineptitude, and his cruelty towards others, especially animals.

He first created the Zachbots at science camp. His first decision was to use them to bully Aviva.

He was a high school drop-out. He claims that it was because he was "too smart" for school, but the real reason for that is because he was denied his diploma (the reason for which he'll take to his grave).

He's canonically 23 years old in the series. He simply looks older than he does both because of early puberty and because of his really poor self-care routines if any (I mean the guy has NOT felt the warm Vitamin D of the sun). The ‘wrinkle’ he had from the 100th episode was not from age, but simply because his skin was drier than the Sahara.

His first act of villainy against the fully assembled Wild Kratts team was when he tried to steal the Creature Power Suits in order to use Creature Powers to capture animals. However, thanks to Aviva's technology, (as well as the fact that they were in their prototypical stage), his plan failed. This explains why he never once tries this in the show, even though he has canonically stolen the suits and discs.

Met Donita, Dabio, and Gourmand at the Finding Your Inner Villain Seminar not long after dropping out of high school.

He and Paisley Paver are second cousins. The Varmitechs and the Pavers used to be in the same organization/family until they split up due to personality conflict. Zach eventually did a DNA ancestry test that not only showed the truth of his ancestry, but revealed that the new villain on the news that the Wild Kratts had faced was his cousin. This was why he was the first to induct Paisley into the ViVs (Very Important Villains). Their scheme in "Our Blue and Green World" was meant to be a project that was going to merge their family businesses back together and establish them as permanent partners in crime. Of course, we all know how that ends...

Zach refused to tell the other ViVs about Paisley's betrayal, feeling embarassed for having allowed Paisley to betray him so quickly. Paisley pretty much becomes a forbidden entity in Zach's life, as he is too emotionally immature to properly deal with how betrayed he feels, or to see things from Paisley's side of view. The truth of Paisley’s betrayal does come out, but it’s completely out of his control, and it forces him to act fast in order to both save his teamwork with the other villains, and get revenge on the Kratts for turning Paisley against him.

He's abso-fucking-lutely gay but EXTREEEEEMELLY closeted and repressed with bad misplacement issues (i.e. his painful attempts to flirt with Donita in Episode 6).

Zach is often sent to jail off-screen, but he's always bailed out, if not by the other villains, it's by a relative (Paisley was one of said relatives, however they both effectively disowned each other).

He intentionally programmed the Zachbots to be intellectually limited so that they don't turn against him. Them taking his orders literally is a very huge side-effect of that decision, one that he considers the lesser of two evils.

This headcanon is very dated (since it circled around back in 2021-2022) but yes, Zach does use NFTs. He is relentlessly bullied by everyone for it. And a more modern headcanon, but Zach 100% uses AI and ChatGPT. You can’t tell me otherwise.

Donita Donata

Is in her early 30's (let's say 31).

Was one of the top female athletes in middle school, high school, and college. Was offered to take on hockey as a profession but turned it down after gaining a bad case of burn-out.

Was also a prodigy in fashion and made that her top priority. Initially she started working on dresses and clothes in a usual way, and became a well-known designer, however, she soon found herself with a lot of competition. Her campaign to use endangered animals in her line of fashion was done out of desperation and was meant to be a one-time thing, but after seeing how many people enjoyed and loved her work, and how much money she could make off of it, she made it a regular profession. She lost a LOT of longtime friends because of this.

Unlike the Varmitechs and Pavers, the Donatas were not proud of their family history. After Shonita Donata had driven the Thylacines to extinction and came dangerously close to wiping out the Tasmanian Devils, their family became infamous, which encouraged her descendants to discontinue her line of work. Donita had brought back that family tradition, and when informed by one of her relatives the very dark history of their family, it had only re-inforced her desire to turn animals into art.

She used ancestry DNA to track down Shabio's descendants to have as her assistant and bodyguard. She eventually found Dabio, who was a member of the mafia (keep in mind, this guy beat up Zach on Donita's command for not returning a loan). She traded a lot of hush money in exchange for them turning him over to her.

She knows a lot of shady people and knows exactly what to say and do to make them do her bidding in order to keep them quiet. This was how she got someone to pay to create the pose-beam, install the vacuum on her jet, and eventually her attack manequins. She also had Zach tweak up her tech for safety (this was after the events of Weird Looking Walrus).

Only rarely does she ever kill her targets. She attempted to skin a leopard once for its fur. However, not only did that get her on the Kratts' radar, it also attracted the attention of a very angry mob. After barely making it out in one piece, Donita decided to simply paralyze the animals and stylize them in a manner that would be fitting for clothing.

Is a lesbian. She's under the assumption Zach is crushing on her (again, it's verrry compulsory on his end) and she turns him down. They get along much better when Zach starts backing off.

Has actually gotten away with selling animals as jewlery (R.I.P. that one frog from Episode 5). Has also gotten bailed out of jail by Zach, Gourmand, and Paisley.

She unofficially gets into a relationship with Paisley Paver. They definitely HAVE plotted together (which we SO should've gotten an episode on!) in the past. Following the events of Season 7, Donita gets less and less notifcations from Paisley, confusing her a lot, and she eventually has no choice but to consider herself dumped. When she ultimately does find out what happened, let's just say that she is the most thirsty for revenge.

Gaston Gourmand

His surname is actually Gourmand. His family being chefs was a coincidence.

Is in his early 40’s (let’s go with 41).

Being a chef ran in the family. However, using endangered species wasn’t. Gaston was informed from a young age of how his ancestor, Gideon Gourmand was responsible for the downfall of the dodo bird, and how since then, the family has dedicated their lives to ethical cooking.

Gourmand went to culinary school. Much like Donita, jealousy played a role in his downfall, as he went to very unethical means to try and outdo those who he wrongly believed had ‘stolen the spotlight’ from them. He started to disregard what he knew about his family history, and secretly use unauthorized animals in his recipies. He got away with this for over a year, until the Kratt Brothers saw him capture endangered condors. Fortunately, they managed to report him to the authorities, where he was exposed for cooking endangered animals, and he was eventually thrown out of school. He swore vengeance on the Kratts since there.

He was cut disowned by his entire family after the fact. By that point, he couldn’t care less. Except for the fact that he was pretty much left with nothing.

When he attended the Finding Your Inner Villain Seminar, that was his rise to fame, as his endangered mushroom salad sold him enough money to purchase a jet, a jet pack, and a dough ball blaster. Zach Varmitech sponsored him, largely to mooch off of his work, but in the end, it helped him get a lot of materials that made it possible for him to hunt endangered species.

Apart from Zach, he’s the glue that holds the villain group together. He mediates an argument as well as he knows how to start one. And he uses food to get on their good sides. Off-screen, he’s partnered with and sponsored Donita and Paisley’s endeavors.

Gourmand’s “side-dish” comment towards Chris was just a very dark joke. Whilst I definitely see where the cannibalism headcanons come from and whilst I don’t disagree with them, I think it’s more in character for him to be enough of a jerk to even joke about it.

Nostril was the Gourmand family pet. In between Seasons 6 and 7, something happened that resulted in them losing custody of Nostril and him falling into Gourmand’s custody.

The reason that Gourmand has been mostly absent throughout Season 7 after the season premiere is because he’s currently trying to find out what happened to Paisley after she mysteriously went dark. Although Zach denies any knowledge, and whilst Donita is up a creek without a paddle, Gourmand suspects something deeper happening, and has gone on a quest in search of her, dropping a lot of his recipe-related schemes in order to find out what happened. She manages to evade him, but out of all the 3 villains, he is the closest to finding out that she went rouge, and is the most likely the one to expose Paisley to the other villains.

Aviva Corcovado

Went to elementary, middle school, and high school with the Kratts and Zach. Befriended Koki and Jimmy Z. in college and introduced them to the Kratts after the fact.

Used to be friends with Zach. Went south. BADLY.

Is Jewish on her father’s side, and Latin American on her mother’s side. Was born in Costa Rica and moved to the U.S. when she was 5.

She’s bi and polyamorous. She and Koki are mutually attracted to each other but they don’t exactly put a label on it. The same applies to Aviva and Paisley post-redemption.

She’s a diagnosed autistic. Her special interest was animals, but especially turtles. Suddenly the design of the HQ makes a lot more sense.

She is 22 years old. Fresh out of college.

Invented a Creature Power Suit for Jimmy sometime in between the events of Seasons 4 and 5 (this was also when she invented Koki’s CPS, which was fully functional in the Season 5 premiere). She kept Jimmy’s CPS in private because she knew he didn’t want one and because he was perfectly effective in the fields without it, and kept it as a failsafe if all else went wrong.

Aviva installed a security system on the Creature Power Discs and the Suits, to where Zach cannot use them, (which only furthers why Zach doesn’t try to activate Creature Powers). When Zach discovers the flaw in Aviva’s design (ghost-programmings that are susceptible to be re-activated), Aviva actually manages to find a solution to that bug in no time. She just holds back from fixing it, mainly to give Zach the illusion of advantage. That way, when she actually installs the Ring Chip 2.0 into the suits, Zach will be humiliated (she does a li’l bit of trolling like that).

Koki

Her full name is Koki Rock (this was based on the headcanon that she shared the same last name as her original voice actor Heather Bambrick before she was recast).

She’s Zambian on her mother’s side (just like me fr) and Puerto Rican on her father’s side. She’s named after the coqui frog, and was born in the U.S.

She went to the same college as Aviva. She was a technology major and the two just clicked together.

Had a summer romance with Jimmy Z, but they eventually broke off and decided to remain friends.

Grew up in a family of 5 siblings. She was the youngest and was often overlooked which caused her to overcompensate to get what she wanted, a habit that she soon unlearns with some months of therapy.

Undiagnosed autistic.

Had a bad experience with bats when one accidentally crashed into her house and touched her. She went over to the hospital for a check-up and the doctors found out that the bat was rabid and was able to cure both her and the bat before any symptoms started showing up. That’s largely what inspired her hatred and fear of bats.

Jimmy Z.

HC adopted from Atarah Derek on Tumblr and the fandom wiki. He’s of Polish descent, with the Z. standing for Zuraw.

He was raised by his grandmother, who he often calls “mom” just by instinct.

Was a man of many hobbies. Cooking, gaming, and piloting. He genuinely could not choose between the three.

Is trans (FtM). Only his closest friends are aware of that (this eventually includes the WK crew).

Undiagnosed autistic, but strongly suspects that he is.

Aviva held applications to pilot the Tortuga. Jimmy Z. instantly won her over because he was skilled.

Jimmy often teaches Aviva and Koki how to man the teleporter in certain situations where he’s absent. However, there are some things he neglects to teach, simply because he’s become so accustomed to it that he can’t find the right way to put the entire process into words. This is why both Aviva and Koki’s teleportations fluctuate between precise and far off.

Jimmy does have a Creature Power Suit but he has no idea. Aviva invented it in private as a failsafe. Jimmy’s proven himself to be an effective member of the team without a CPS and he’s content with it.

I’ve seen one HC from a mutual friend of mine on Tumblr that said that Jimmy Z. was the one who actually created the flash games (Go Cheetah Go, Habitat Rescue, Flower Flier, ect.) in-universe for the Wild Kratts Kids to play; not only is it way easier to make the flash games co-exist with the series proper, but it’s far too in-character for Jimmy to NOT be SS+ HC material so -

Paisley Paver

She’s 26 years old. She may or may not be attracted to Aviva post-redemption (let me have this one).

Much like Zach, she was a nepo baby who came from a long line of notorious capitalists who were always one dollar out of the big house.

Paisley had many siblings, none of whom she was close with.

Paisley’s inheritance of Pave Nature Incorporated was pretty much the plot of Succession, where she had to impress her snobby parents that she was worthy of running the family business. She surprisingly won fair and square, but her siblings accused her of cheating and essentially disowned her.

She went to the Finding Your Inner Villain Seminar. Whilst she didn’t interact with Zach, Donita, or Gourmand personally, she simply overheard them speak about the Wild Kratts, hence her offhand comment in her debut episode.

She and Zach Varmitech are second cousins. Zach reaches out to her with this information and this is partly what convinces her to join the ViVs.

This is a headcanon largely stolen from Athena P’s analysis video from 6 months back; Paisley soon sees how inept Zach’s schemes are and how much of a waste of money they are. So she decides to cheat the system by constantly charging/billing him every time he fails (the Halloween special was not the first/only instance of this). In the scenario where they got what they wanted, cool. In the scenario where they failed, Paisley could walk away with a shred of her dignity and some cash.

The in-universe reason why we don’t see her that often in the series [pre-Season 7] is because she actually does a very good job at staying under the Kratts’ radar and paving several habitats. Post-Season 7, she finds the time to undo that damage.

Has plotted with Gourmand and Donita individually off-screen. Got into a HO-YAY with Donita, but ultimately ghosted her after her Heel-Face-Turn. She saw the most potential in Donita, and thus knew that she’d be the biggest threat to her if her betrayal was ever revealed.

Zach and Paisley’s plans to destroy the Madagascar beach was meant to be a project that would’ve reunited the Varmitech and Paver families as well as their businesses. Obviously that did not go well.

Zach forced Paisey to fire Rex, believing him to be a liability (because he gets along with others just as well as water gets along with gasoline). Paisley had no choice but to let Rex go. She regrets it.

There are two in-universe reasons that we don’t see Paisley post-redemption. 1) she was busy legally changing her surname to Paver (yes, I know the end-credits had it as a nickname but I reject them lol) - 2) she was on the run. Not from the authorities, but from Gourmand. He was the only villain in Zach’s circle who realized something was amiss when Paisley went dark and started to track her down. Paisley fortunately managed to evade him at every turn and keep him from finding her out. However, she soon realizes that if she keeps Gourmand guessing, he won’t be able to capture animals or help the other villains. So she pretty much becomes a decoy. She doesn’t go after Rex out of fear that he’ll be dragged into the mess she put herself into, and out of fear that he won’t forgive her for firing him.

Her absence unfortunately leaves a power vacuum for Pave Nature Incorporated. Her siblings realize this and decide to take it over, hiring Rex.

Rex

He was a construction worker looking for a job. Found Paisley. Got that job.

He got along well with Dabio. I don’t exactly know if I ship them or not but it’s a crime that we never saw them interact.

When Paisley was inducted into the ViVs he tried to get along with them but they overall snubbed him. Zach in particular loathed Rex’s chipper attitude.

Was fired by Paisley as part of Paisley and Zach’s project to merge the Varmitech and Paver businesses back together. Rex became resentful towards Paisley, and eventually sulked out about until there was a change in position in Pave Nature Incorporated that allowed him to get his job back. Whether or not he remains a villain or eventually rejoins Paisley, I’m gonna wait until there’s a canon answer for that.

Dabio

He grew up in a mafia family. Dabio is his alias name, his real name no one actually knows. His bloodline runs back to post-Shabio (Shabio had gotten a lot of pushback for helping kill off the Thylacine population, so he went to America, joined the mafia, took control and was effectively un-touchable for centuries).

Dabio only acts dumb as a way to fool his enemies. He’s not particularly that intelligent, but he knows way more than he lets on.

Was assigned to Donita as her henchman/bodyguard, in exchange for his family getting enough money to escape the authorities.

[pansexualkiba]

"I can read your emotions. It's a bit of a side-effect, you know how it is." Shinsou explained.

"No. No, I don't know how it is." Ojiro retorted.

"Your emotion is skepticism."

"ANYONE COULD KNOW THAT!"

"What's my emotion, dude?" Kaminari enthused.

"Enthusiasm." Shinsou replied easily.

"Heck yeah, that's so cool!" Kaminari cheered.

"I can't believe this-" Ojiro muttered, then picked up Asui like she was a cat. "What about Tsuyu?"

Shinsou stared at Asui.

Asui stared back.

"Frog." Shinsou determined.

"FROG?!" Ojiro demanded.

"He's right, kero." Asui ribbeted. "Most of my emotions default to frog."

[josephkeller]

I haven’t really had time to dig into them too much, but I need to take a look at the other Daggerheart campaign frames. I was just going through the Age of Umbra frame and it’s fascinating how they can actually transform different game elements.

For example: ribbets in base Daggerheart are generally 3-4.5 ft. tall. In Age of Umbra, they’re 6-8 ft. They also “prefer to skulk on all fours when not leaping or standing still.”

[honourablejester]

Daggerheart Character Concept: Louise ‘Slick’ McKeane

Another Colossus of the Drylands concept, because I want my dried-out cowboy frog. Heh. Not sure why the image enchants me so, but here we are.

Obviously, then, we’re going with the Ribbet ancestry. And Colossus of the Drylands has this note about Ribbets in the context of the campaign frame:

“Fungril, galapa, and ribbets native to the Drylands are most often well adapted to the desert, but those who aren’t from these deserts commonly live near the few lakes in the region or devise systems to travel with large amounts of water.”

And I’m thinking here …

We’re in the middle of mining rush. Well, forty years in. And mines need water. Lots of water. And mines also pollute water. So if our ribbet cowboy here was a blow-in, or even just part of a family that’s only been out here a generation or two, not enough to properly adapt, but they had a nice little settlement near one of the water sources scattered across the Drylands, and then the mines moved in. Let’s say around 15 years ago. Moved in, and either forced them out to claim the water source directly, or just diverted a lot of the water to mine operations higher up and polluted the rest, until they had to leave anyway. Until they were dried out.

Now, maybe some more longterm local relatives of theirs helped them out a bit, tried to show them how to mitigate the effects of the desert. I’m thinking an ointment, aloe vera-slash-sunscreen, something that helps her avoid drying out completely while still being mostly functional. (‘Slick’ is a nickname, and both cruel and somewhat ironic). Maybe they even survived pretty well. But that kind of thing leaves a mark. A grudge.

Which brings me to the Slyborne community. Outlaws and thieves. Because the Slyborne community has this note:

“But some slyborne communities are more interested in stopping major operations from stripping essentia from the desert than robbing the innocent. The “Harlan Family,” a small but active posse of thieves led by Trace Harlan (they/them), works out of Wyllin’s Gulch for one purpose: to stop ambitious tycoons from mining and producing essentia batteries. They hope to one day tear the factories from the walls of the mesa and drive out the greedy moguls that put profit over people.”

So … Guess who tried to join up with the Harlan Family more or less the second she came of age? And honestly, a bit before she came of age? Not sure if she actually succeeded or not, but she sure as hell tried.

(Can you tell I’m having fun with the environmental elements of this campaign frame?)

For class, finally, I’m kind of picturing a gunslinger? Either dual revolvers or a long range rifle. (Or, granted, my initial concept involved the lasso secondary weapon, likely paired with a revolver. My only concern with that is that it’s Very Close range, and I’ve a feeling Slick likes to stay Far range where possible, but having options at multiple ranges also couldn’t hurt). So I could go something like a Warrior, but my first instinct here is Ranger. And honestly I think I’m going to go with that instinct. Ranger feels right for a skirmishing outlaw fighting for a largely environmental grudge. And the Ranger’s Focus feature also feels rather suitably grudgey.

For starting domain abilities, I’m tempted to lean into Sage, Vicious Entangle and Gifted Tracker, but actually … Bone has Untouchable, where you add half your Agility to your Evasion, and it occurs to me that ‘Slick’ could have quite a few meanings as a nickname here. Heh. So. Let’s go Untouchable and Vicious Entangle. We can leave Gifted Tracker this time, or possibly pick it up later.

For Experiences, I think I’m going to give her something around desert survival, for lessons perforce learned hard, and then maybe something like the suggested deadly aim one. She’s a hardbitten, grudgey girl who really wants to shoot some miners. I suspect her -1 trait is going to be Presence. She’s not really a ‘negotiation’ sort of personality.

So picture an incredibly lean, tall, hardbitten sort of woman, a dried out frog with cracked and leathery skin despite her best efforts, colouring faded to dull browns and tired yellows. I think we’re going to give her a giant lizard mount. And, yeah, lets go with the revolver and lasso load out. A rough and tumble ribbet outlaw, who’d really like to run some miners off her land.

Louise ‘Slick’ McKeane. A dried-out outlaw frog. Heh.

[sillymagicfroggie]

does paul castro jr know how absolutely amazing his delivery of "shibuya isn't special without them" was?? it makes me insaneee

[lured-into-wonderland]

THIS WAS A NEW LAND FOR HIM

He had ventured from the north down south for one reason and only one reason - for help. He needed to find someone and he was hoping that he could find trace of her in the south, if not then he would be doomed to die in this body and that was something that he wished to avoid at all costs. This land was strange and foreign to him, even stranger to the body he had started to call his own, by lack of choice.

He travelled by night and slept during the day. He would not risk it nor chance it. He remained as far away from the roads, from paths and from people as much as he could. He didn’t want confrontation, he didn’t want anyone picking up his own trial and hunting him, afterall he was not an idiot - he was a worthy kill - something to boast about in a tavern with a warm woman in your lap and a cold drink in your hand.

HE WOULD NOT GIVE ANYONE THE SATISFACTION

Yet this night he had went a little bit too close to the road and he heard it. Two travellers had been set upon by bandits and beaten senseless - they had been left alive, but their valuables had been stolen from them and now both of them fucked around trying to clean one another up instead of hightailing it to the nearest village to report the crime and get proper help.

It was then that he could smell it. A twitch at first but it was strong. Blood. It only reminded him how fucking hungry he was. How he had not truly eaten properly at all. Refusing to give in to what this body needed, he barely ate and when he did it was fucking berries of all things, something that would just barely keep him alive and keep him going.

But there it was, two idiots, bleeding and wounded, just standing there wanting to be fucking killed and eaten and it was tearing him apart. It would be easy, too fucking easy. He was bigger than any creature they would have ever seen, faster and stronger as well. They would not last five seconds against him - but it was wrong, he knew it, but he could not pull away from that temptation.

HE WAS FUCKING HUNGRY AND IT WAS KILLING HIM.

He thought about it for the moment, and then the next he moved, and it was easily done as well, the first man was lifted up from the ground with ease, head dipping back, mouth opening and swallowing him whole, the legs kicking back and forth and screaming there one moment and then gone the next. The other man tried to turn and run, as he wasted no time, the to tongue fired out like a slingshot and caught him, wrapping around the leg with ease, dragging him back through the ground and into the waiting mouth, eating him as well, within the flicker of a moment and nothing more.

“Ribbet.”

Still, despite that he was starving, and two humans, for the first time, tasted delicious, they had been a worthy meal for someone, or rather something like him, but then once more, it was not enough as he was already on the move, seeking and searching for something or rather someone else, to find and devour as well.

She hummed; smiling to the moon. She liked darkness. She liked wandering at night; they told her she shouldn’t. They told her she was a creature made for day. For sun, and flowers. For laughter and gently touches. They told her there was a danger in the shadows. They told her many things. But they were wrong. She was not the creature of light. Quite on the contrary; Nunnally knew her heart was dark. Full of dangerous urges and greed.

They told her she had lost her memories. But it wasn’t the truth. She tried to explain it to them. That they were incorrect. That they should let her leave and follow her own destiny. Because if she stayed, she was the one to bring calamity onto them.

But they didn’t listen. They refused to even talk about it. It was their choice; not hers. She couldn’t change the destiny they had chosen to follow. But did she even want that?

But no matter what they said; no matter what they wanted to believe in and how they wanted to fool themselves: Nunnally belonged to the night.

This night. This night was not to be different. She wandered around, but not too far away from the main road and from the sacred place that held her hostage. Held her prisoner. She could almost see the golden rope that tied her to the desires of these people (fools). It was only a stronger desire, stronger greed, that could free her. Or rather put her in another cage. Until she could break free?

But what breaking free meant for a creature like her?

Cause she couldn’t love. She couldn’t die. She couldn’t…

Then suddenly a night turned different. A noise…She wasn’t sure what it truly was. The thread was still long enough to allow her to sate her curiosity. A sight that she met with her blue eyes would be terrifying to anyone and everyone but not to her. Not to a creature of the night.

A monster. Reminding her of a giant frog was having a feast. But what was his dinner…? She wasn’t sure, although she could take her rather accurate guess. Not that it had bothered her (at least not too much). That was a circle of life.  That she was not a part of. Long time ago she had been; and long time ago she had also stopped being a part of it. When the man she loved, when he had chosen wrong. When her love hadn’t been enough…

…she freed herself from his love…from her love…from any love at all…

She had become was she was. A monster. A harbinger of a bad fortune. Of death. Was she happier? She had forgotten what happiness was. But she wasn’t also unhappy. She was free of emotions. Of understanding. Or rather she did understand and sometimes she even felt she did remember what it felt to feel…but truth to be told, she didn’t know.

The Witch of Greed. The Lady of Lust. The Mistress of Illusion.

Illusion…her life was illusion. Back then and right now.

She was a MONSTER. One that couldn’t be destroyed. There was only one power that could destroy her.

REGULUS CORNEAS. REINHARD VAN ASTREA.

Though they would never stand hand in hand to challenge her. To face her. To kill her. The two sides of the coin; only when united they could destroy the most primal force that was part of them.

The memory of the princess.

The memory of the blond girl with a blue ear-ring.

She was both of them. She was neither.

“Are you still hungry, you sweet little creature?” – Nunnally addressed the monster – “I would offer myself as your meal, but that’s not the courtesy I am able to give you.” – but she could still offer the creature his meal.

REGULUS CORNEAS. REINHARD VAN ASTREA.

It was time for the golden rope to be broken. It was time to move. And this creature would grant her the freedom.

REGULUS CORNEAS. REINHARD VAN ASTREA.

Which of them loved her? Which of them hated her?

Both or neither?

REGULUS CORNEAS. REINHARD VAN ASTREA.

Nunnally started to laugh (frantically). They had given her something she had never asked for. They would meet. One day when the known world would end. So that they'd get a chance in another world?

REGULUS CORNEAS. REINHARD VAN ASTREA.

They were one. She now understood it. Would they ever? Would it hurt them? Would it hurt the world?

@fallesto

[ebbing-terror]

THIS WAS A NEW LAND FOR HIM

He had ventured from the north down south for one reason and only one reason - for help. He needed to find someone and he was hoping that he could find trace of her in the south, if not then he would be doomed to die in this body and that was something that he wished to avoid at all costs. This land was strange and foreign to him, even stranger to the body he had started to call his own, by lack of choice.

He travelled by night and slept during the day. He would not risk it nor chance it. He remained as far away from the roads, from paths and from people as much as he could. He didn’t want confrontation, he didn’t want anyone picking up his own trial and hunting him, afterall he was not an idiot - he was a worthy kill - something to boast about in a tavern with a warm woman in your lap and a cold drink in your hand.

HE WOULD NOT GIVE ANYONE THE SATISFACTION

Yet this night he had went a little bit too close to the road and he heard it. Two travellers had been set upon by bandits and beaten senseless - they had been left alive, but their valuables had been stolen from them and now both of them fucked around trying to clean one another up instead of hightailing it to the nearest village to report the crime and get proper help.

It was then that he could smell it. A twitch at first but it was strong. Blood. It only reminded him how fucking hungry he was. How he had not truly eaten properly at all. Refusing to give in to what this body needed, he barely ate and when he did it was fucking berries of all things, something that would just barely keep him alive and keep him going.

But there it was, two idiots, bleeding and wounded, just standing there wanting to be fucking killed and eaten and it was tearing him apart. It would be easy, too fucking easy. He was bigger than any creature they would have ever seen, faster and stronger as well. They would not last five seconds against him - but it was wrong, he knew it, but he could not pull away from that temptation.

HE WAS FUCKING HUNGRY AND IT WAS KILLING HIM.

He thought about it for the moment, and then the next he moved, and it was easily done as well, the first man was lifted up from the ground with ease, head dipping back, mouth opening and swallowing him whole, the legs kicking back and forth and screaming there one moment and then gone the next. The other man tried to turn and run, as he wasted no time, the to tongue fired out like a slingshot and caught him, wrapping around the leg with ease, dragging him back through the ground and into the waiting mouth, eating him as well, within the flicker of a moment and nothing more.

“Ribbet.”

Still, despite that he was starving, and two humans, for the first time, tasted delicious, they had been a worthy meal for someone, or rather something like him, but then once more, it was not enough as he was already on the move, seeking and searching for something or rather someone else, to find and devour as well.

"THERE YOU ARE!!!!"

Just then a girl leapt down from a tree like a flying squirrel, belly flopping onto the great frog's back. She took two overflowing handfulls of green blubber, squeezing and pulling to her heart's content as if the man-eater was nothing more than a ball of dough.

"I've been looking everywhere for you~!" Seriously, one wouldn't think a creature of this size would be elusive but Lynn had been on the hunt for days. She snuggled into the clammy flesh of her enormous baby, swiping her arms in big circles to give the amphibian rubs and scritches.

Lynn sat back, straddling her greedy steed. How the tables had turned. It seemed like it was only two weeks ago when she was carrying the froggy around but look at him now, big and strong enough to carry-or eat- several people.

"C'mon, let's go home!!~" Lynn patted the frog's head and her feet nudged his squishy sides, gently spuring her behemoth to turn and start hopping their way home.

She knew well enough now that the froggy was a stubborn thing, a behavior Lynn was certain he learned from her. She leaned forward into the frog's line of sight, gazing onto one of those marvelous, shining orbs.

"I have some dinner for you back home~ I made sure they had a nice big meal before locking them up, so they're nice and nutritious!!"

He was a growing boy, so he needed hearty meals! Lynn rubbed the tip of the frog's damp snoot, papping his head once more.

"Home!"

She ordered, pointing firmly in the direction she came from. He was a smart boy, and Lynn knew he understood what she was saying.

[brainrockets]

Things I said during today's Daggerheart playtest session.

DM describes an intoxicant.

Me (a fungril bard) "oh! Like when you lick the wrong cousin!"

DM "every cousin is the wrong cousin!"

My firbolg buddy "Oh like when some ribbets make you see color! Or poison you!"

Having a conversation with a traveling merchant .

"No! I mean, we all have bones." *pause* "Wait...do I have bones????"

Our parties Seraph helpfully supplied, "maybe it's all just finger bones?"

Everyone else stares in that's worse. You get how that's worse, right?

We still aren't sure but agree that all answers to this question are upsetting.

[vulpes-fennec]

Love on Water Lilies 🪷 (Ch 3)

Summary: Prince Lucien Vanserra of the Autumn Kingdom is all play, no work. Elain Archeron, a waitress and aspiring restaurant owner in the city of Colibri, is all work, no play. Caught in a larger scheme of politics and war, Lucien and Elain are turned into frogs. Will Elain get her restaurant back? Will Lucien ever become Fae again?

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

Elain’s stomach was gurgling, but she’d sooner work another brunch shift at Roy’s Cafe than admit she was hungry first. She’d been watching Lucien steer their raft for the last half hour, waiting for him to call for a break. Yet the prince showed no signs of stopping for lunch. 

Lucien stood on his hind legs, which were long and muscled, just like the legs of his Fae form. His thighs flexed every time he bent slightly at the knee, his upper body pushing the stick into the water with strong, fluid motions. Even as a frog, Lucien was handsome: his skin a vibrant mint green and his underbelly a tan brown. The color green suited him, and so did the thick olive stripe that ran down the center of his sturdy back, framed by ridges of raised skin. 

Though her animosity towards him had abated slightly after his apology, Elain still felt peeved that Lucien refused to give her the riverfront pavilion until the curse was broken. The matching gold band tattooed onto her arm was a constant reminder of her dues. Bargain-bound to a prince of Autumn who inconveniently held all the cards in his palm was the last thing Elain wanted to deal with. And now she was feeling extra cranky thanks to hunger. 

Lucien abruptly stopped the raft. 

“Why’d you stop?” Elain scanned the slow-moving waters ahead for predators. Though Lucien possessed fire powers, she wasn’t keen on seeing how they’d fare in a watery environment. 

“It’s lunchtime.” Lucien pointed at the swarm of gnats buzzing over the water.

“No,” Elain gasped, horrified. The bzzt-bzzt sound from the cloud was more noticeable now, likely due to her frog form’s hunting instincts. Utterly disgusting. 

“Food is food, princess.” Lucien shrugged carelessly. “A frog’s gotta eat.”

“I am not going to eat a bug!” she cried, even though her stomach made a loud protest just at that moment. But Lucien wasn’t listening to her. He set the oar down and positioned himself on all fours, eyes focused on the gnats with predatory interest. 

A long, magenta pink tongue darted out between his lips experimentally, the tip of it sticky and slick under the hot morning sun. Elain was held hostage by a fascinated revulsion as Lucien’s tongue shot into the cloud of bugs. It subsequently recoiled back into his mouth with such force that he fell off the boat. Splash!

Elain couldn’t help but giggle. 

“This is harder than it looks.” Lucien was rather good-natured as he swam back to the raft. 

Elain instinctively held an arm out for him, realizing only when Lucien’s slimy hand gripped hers that she had helped him up the raft. He’s not your friend, she reminded herself, acutely aware of how his webbed fingers slotted against hers. He took everything away from you, remember? Unaware of Elain’s inner turmoil, Lucien tried again. The prince managed to roll his tongue back into his mouth without falling off the raft, but still failed to catch any bugs. 

“I assure you, my tongue is normally far more skilled than this.” Lucien shot Elain a cocky grin when he caught her staring. He puffed his vocal sac, announcing himself to his lunch with a loud ribbet.

“You are disgusting,” Elain rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to hear about what your tongue can do.” Lucien tried again, and this time, a speckle of a gnat came zinging back at him. Elain wore a scrunched-up look of disgust on her face when the gnat disappeared into his mouth. 

“A little tangy. Not very filling,” Lucien mused, looking up quizzically as he parsed out the subtle flavors of gnat. “But you might as well give it a try.” 

“No, thank you,” Elain said primly, crossing her legs delicately from where she sat. Lucien went back to aiming his tongue into the gnat cloud, each attempt more successful than the last. His russet and gold eyes gleamed with challenge and victory, his energy picking up with each successful catch. The prince seemed to be enjoying himself, at least.

“I’m quite surprised a prince like you would eat insects.” Elain made a little raspberry blegh sound when Lucien caught three gnats in one go. 

“Why not? The best part about traveling is trying new things. When else will I eat bugs, if not in frog form?” 

“You could just resolve to never eat bugs,” Elain offered. A gnat! How unfulfilling. She longed for a warm plate of biscuits, chicken with a generous dusting of spices, and well-seasoned greens. Not paltry insects!

Lucien smacked his lips, and peered at something behind Elain’s shoulder. “There’s a fat dragonfly right behind you. Move a little to the left, won’t you?”

Elain let out a terrified cry and covered her eyes. 

“I don’t want to see you eat it,” she shrieked, covering her eyes. Dragonflies were significantly larger to her when she was a small frog, and as big as Lucien’s mouth was, she was quite sure it wouldn’t fit. The notion of seeing half of a dragonfly tail hanging out of his mouth sent shudders of revulsion through her body. 

Lucien burst into pealing laughter. 

“I was only joking, Elain,” he chuckled, slapping his thigh. “You should’ve seen your face when I said that…you’re probably the first frog to be repulsed by a dragonfly.” Elain scowled at the amusement dancing in Lucien’s eyes. 

“I don’t see why we have to eat bugs just because we are frogs,” she grumbled. “Surely there are more things available in the bayou.” 

“Frogs are supposed to eat bugs. You’re the spoiled one,” Lucien teased. “Miss froggy here cannot deign to eat a couple insects, and yet she calls herself a chef. Do her refined tastes only accept the cream of the crop, fresh berries and fish?” 

Elain glared at the prince, feeling her face heat with embarrassment. Lucien was unfortunately right about several things, but she didn’t want to admit it. The crooked, wide smirk on his mottled green face was truly infuriating. 

“If you’re done eating, stop talking and start rowing. Or else I’m going to push you off the raft.” 

—

At some point in the afternoon, Elain had taken up rowing. The shorter length of the stick forced her to keep to shallow waters, which was fine by her. Who knew what kind of creatures lurked in the depths? Alligators, massive fish, snakes, wraiths, and pixies would be eager to nab two frogs as an afternoon snack. She missed the safety that came with being High Fae. Although High Fae weren’t at the top of the food chain, it was still better than being a vulnerable little frog in a big swamp. 

The sky had turned overcast, depriving her of the sun’s path. Swampy waters stretched as far as her eyes could see. The shadowy depths seemed to hold secrets, the still surfaces a warning to those who dared to disturb them. Small deltas rose up, interspersed with mangrove and bushy hedges. 

Meanwhile, Lucien was chilling on his back, hands tucked behind his head and humming softly under his breath. The prince could hold a tune, Elain begrudgingly admitted, and the lilting melody was hauntingly beautiful.

“What song is that?” she asked, when he finished. Lucien lazily opened his eyes, one russet, the other gold.

“An Autumn folk song,” Lucien replied. “My mother used to sing it to me before bed.”

“It’s nice,” Elain offered awkwardly. Queen Daphne Vanserra must have loved her sons very much, if she tucked them into bed instead of leaving the task to palace servants. Mama never did such a thing for us… 

“That’s unfortunate,” Lucien said. “How long ago…?”

“Sorry?” 

“Your mother is no longer alive, right?” Lucien leaned back onto his elbows, eyeing her acutely. 

“Yes…how did you know?” 

“You’re very easy to read,” was all Lucien responded with. Elain frowned, unsure of what to make of his statement. Why does he want to know?

“It was twelve years ago,” Elain decided to say. “I was eleven years old.” 

“And your relationship with her?” 

“I thought you said I was very easy to read,” Elain replied, her words slightly clipped. Females are very easy to read, was probably what Lucien had wanted to say. The frog prince quirked his lips. 

“Some things I don’t know, Elain.” 

Elain pushed the raft along, trying to form the right words. “I don’t miss her that much. She was…an absent parent,” she responded after a while. Lucien only nodded, his expression devoid of the pity that strangers typically showed her. 

“So you’re twenty-three years old?” Lucien mused. “So serious, for a lady so young.” 

“Well, how old are you?” Elain countered. If her knowledge of Prythian courts remained intact after many years out of school, Lucien couldn’t be older than forty. The Autumn Queen was slightly younger than her father, and had birthed the Autumn princes decades apart instead of the quick succession of the Archeron siblings. 

“Guess.” Lucien smirked. 

“Two hundred,” Elain smiled, hoping to wipe that smug expression off his face. “At least.”

Lucien exhaled loudly, shaking his head. “Shit, Elain, I’m not that old. I’m only twenty-nine.” 

Elain sniffed, turning back around. “Somehow, that makes sense, given your party boy lifestyle.” She knew Lucien’s bulging eyes rolling at her absurd remark, but he did not respond, probably because he knew she was right.

She continued to paddle, trying to follow the subtle current downstream. The Bog of Oorid was like a giant, slow-moving river that flowed towards the sea at a snail’s pace. The hot summer air was oppressively muggy, even from a frog’s perspective. And the slime—mucus—on her webbed hands made her grip slick. 

Breathe, Elain, breathe, she told herself. It was like a sodden towel had been wrapped around her face, her shoulders, her legs. The humidity weighed down on her every movement. Dip, stroke, lift. Dip, stroke, lift. 

It was getting harder to see—when did the mist roll in? Elain blinked rapidly, trying to refocus her rapidly deteriorating vision. But it was futile. Breathe, Elain, breathe. A light-headed sensation began to prickle the edges of her consciousness, sending panic coursing through her veins. What’s happening?

The bayou was gone.

Elain only had time to stutter a faint “L-l-lucien?” before she felt herself falling backwards. 

Shadows, howling and shrieking, slipped off a wooden dock. The muddy waters were tinged black as they moved, like ink spilled from a pot, swirling around stones and under tree roots. 

Lucien, still in frog form, being pulled under the water. His green hand, straining for the skies, disappearing under the rippling surface. Was she…was she crying? She was certainly screaming. The prince wasn’t going down without a fight, from the way the dark water churned and splashed, but—

“Wake up! Elain, wake up!” The commanding baritone of a male voice called from somewhere far away. “Wake! Up!” 

Elain gasped upon feeling water hit her face. 

She was flat on her back, something hard underneath her. A cloudy sky swirled above, but everything seemed piercingly bright. Elain blinked. Mismatched, bulging eyes stared down at her, and the massive green mouth—a tad too close to her face—was pursed in a frown. Why is there a frog leaning over me?

Oh, right. Lucien is a frog. 

And he was holding a clam shell filled with water, poised to throw it on her face again.

“Enough!” Elain sputtered, trying to sit up, but it was too late. She received a mouthful of brackish water. “Stop!” 

“Cauldron, Elain,” Lucien said, sitting back on his heels without a shred of remorse for the last throw. “Are you alright?” He made a throaty sound akin to a tsk-tsk and shook his head. “This is what you get for not eating the gnats. You don’t keep your energy up, and you end up fainting while on paddling duty.” 

“I’m fine,” Elain mumbled, trying to ground herself in her surroundings. She rubbed her face with a sticky webbed hand. Lucien is a frog. I am also a frog. The raft listed gentling under her, bobbing on smooth waters. The smells of humidity, vegetation, and fish. I’m in a bayou…I have a slimy green body, a long tongue… 

“You keep your little head down,” Lucien continued to chatter away, rambling about energy deficits and amphibian diets. He had grasped the stick and begun pushing them to a large island, its beaches silty and edged with mangroves. “...can’t travel any further with a fainting frogette, can we?”

“I’ll be fine,” Elain groaned again, though she did not feel fine at all. Was that a hallucination, or some sort of premonition? I don’t have any magic, unless I’m counting the “green thumb” Nesta and Feyre claim I possess. It couldn’t be magic…most Fae children come into their powers by the age of thirteen.  

“Nonsense. Come on, let’s get onto dry land. Or do I need to carry you to shore too?” Lucien had tied their raft to a curling mangrove root, having steered them into a particularly cozy alcove. A couple hops away from them was a flat expanse of rock, shielded from the elements by two mossy logs leaning against each other. Elain supposed that would be home, sweet home for the night.

“I’m not a damsel in distress,” Elain muttered. But her legs wobbled unsteadily when she stood up, forcing her to hold her arms out for balance.

“Alright, suit yourself, princess,” Lucien said, but his hand still hovered near elbow as she tottered to the raft’s edge. Elain managed to hop onto the mangrove root without falling into the water, well aware that Lucien was close behind. She crawled along the smooth root, clutching the sides as she moseyed onto dry land. 

The shore’s cool stone was a relief against her too-hot skin. Elain curled on her side with a huff, trying to ignore the stomach pangs that were stabbing her insides every few seconds. She was so, so tired. Of course I am tired, she rationalized, feeling a bit better after admitting that. Too often Elain was trying to convince herself otherwise so she could rally for the next shift of work. Lucien was no help in the morning, snoring away as I struggled to lash the raft together. I spent half the day rowing. I haven’t eaten anything since last night. But maybe a quick nap will stave off hunger until we reach sweet, sweet civilization again…

Elain’s eyes flew open at the sound of wet smacking against stone. Mere inches away from her a minnow was flopping back and forth, gasping for air. As High Fae, the minnow would have been no larger than the length of Elain’s finger. But as a frog, they were as massive as river carp. 

She sat up, blinking groggily. She must have dozed off, for twilight had fallen and a small fire was crackling merrily over a bundle of sticks. Elain’s gaze drifted about, finding Lucien standing on his hind legs in shallow waters. The frog prince was watching something very closely, and his long legs, bent slightly at the knees, were tense as he leaned forward. 

Faster than Elain could comprehend, the prince snatched a minnow from the water using only his webbed hands. Lucien threw it onto the rock, leaving it to writhe and flop with the other minnow as he swooped down and caught another minnow. 

“How did you do that?” Elain asked in amazement when Lucien walked back towards her, dragging the four minnows by the tail. She had never seen a High Fae catch fish with their bare hands. Seeing a frog catch fish was equally fascinating. Lucien sat by the fire and proceeded to use a jagged bit of rock to clean the fish.  

“I spent a lot of time exploring Autumn’s woods,” Lucien said, flashing her a wide grin. “Catching fish is an essential survival skill all younglings learn.”

“I suppose cleaning it would be easier with a real knife,” Elain mused, inching closer to watch Lucien scrape the scales off, saw off the heads, and remove the bones and guts. Crouching on all fours was oddly comfortable, with her long legs neatly tucked against her belly. She tried not to think about how frog-like she had become in less than 24 hours. 

“It’s about the artist, not the tools,” Lucien remarked, twirling the rock shard expertly between his fingers. He fitted the filet onto a sharpened stick and turned it slowly over the fire, ensuring the filet was cooked evenly without charring.

“Sounds like something my sister would say,” Elain murmured. Lucien looked up, his expression one of interest. 

“You have a sister?” 

“Two,” Elain elaborated after a slight hesitation. Who was she to be opening up to an Autumn prince, who had taken everything from her? “Feyre, she’s younger by two years. She’s an artist. And I have an older sister…Nesta.” 

“Enjoy, princess.” Lucien handed Elain the stick with steaming hot fish. Elain blew delicately, before nibbling at the edge. Without a full set of teeth, she could only use the hard rim of her mouth and her tongue to “bite” the filet. 

The minnow was insanely fresh, and tasted lean and fishy, just like a trout. Just about the tastiest thing Elain had eaten in a long time, or maybe she was just hungry. Elain scarfed it down, the heat singeing her tongue. 

Her belly finally stopped aching, her spirits were lifted.

“Not bad for a spoiled rich prince,” she said to Lucien. “Thank you.” 

“See? I can be nice.” Lucien was already roasting the next filet. “By the way, I have three older brothers.”

“I know.” 

“Quite the fan, are you?” Lucien teased. 

“Don’t be so full of yourself, Lucien,” Elain retorted. 

“Cauldron, I’m only trying to be conversational,” Lucien sighed, shaking his head with mock disappointment. “This is your chance to ask a real prince questions, yet you don’t want to know anything?” Elain glanced at the frog prince, casually sitting on a toadstool and roasting fish like he was any regular male going camping. His self-sufficiency had exceeded her expectations—not that they were high to begin with. 

“Well if you’re opening yourself up to questions, who’s going to be the next Autumn King?” Elain asked. For each kingdom’s ruler was determined by power, not by line of succession. The heir often displayed tell-tale signs from an early age, marking of power that indicated the land’s choice as steward.

“Eris,” Lucien replied, a little too quickly. Elain’s eyes focused on his webbed foot, tapping against the stone subtly. The prince wasn’t being truthful. “Hmmm this fish smells a little plain. If only there was a rosemary bush, or a basil plant nearby,” Lucien said, trying to change the subject. 

“Is he?” Elain pressed on. “What are your plans within the court, then?” 

Lucien shrugged, handing her another stick with freshly cooked fish. “I don’t really have any plans. I’d be happy to just coast my way through life, enjoying what it has to offer.” Elain took the fish, but frowned. “What?”

“What?”

“You seem displeased,” Lucien pointed out. 

She was. Of course Lucien had the sort of lifestyle that enabled him to drink Fae wine and party with courtiers until daybreak. Meanwhile, she had to juggle multiple jobs ever since she was sixteen. Such was the difference in their station, yet the two of them were sitting inches away, sharing a meal. It was hard not to feel a bit resentful with the prince’s cavalier attitude towards his future. 

“I’m not,” Elain lied, opting to take a bite of fish so she had an excuse not to talk. “If you could change one impression people have of you, what would it be?” 

“People assuming I’m a spoiled, rich, party prince.” Lucien’s mouth quirked up.

“Well, now you’re just making fun of me,” Elain scowled. 

“I haven’t been to a party in nearly two days, Elain. I think it’s ample proof I can survive without one.” Lucien gestured at the wilderness around them. “It is exhausting when people only associate with me because of my rank and wealth. What about you?” 

Elain blinked, unsure of what to say. I wish they saw just beyond my looks, she wanted to say. A pretty face certainly helped with tips. Countless males, many of them rich, had tried to court her. And while Elain had considered marrying them to lift her family out of poverty, her suitors never cared about her interests nor her dreams. She would be marrying a cardboard cutout, destined for a loveless eternity. Would that make her selfish? To value her own happiness over her family’s livlihood?

But if she vocalized her true thoughts, Lucien would only consider her vain. And maybe he’d even laugh, if he didn’t think she was particularly attractive. So Elain changed the subject.

“That’s what happened to me.” Lucien cocked his stout head to the side, curious. “People associating with me because of my social status. We used to live in a nice house, with servants and gardens and parties almost every day. But when my father lost his leg in the war, he stopped working. We fell into poverty, and realized that many of our old ‘friends’ did not actually care about us.” Elain’s voice hardened with bitterness. 

“Vassa was the only friend I had left. She didn’t care that I was poor, or that our reputation was abysmal.” 

“True friends are important,” Lucien responded. “You haven’t met him yet, but my best friend is Jurian. You’d probably like him, he’s the responsible one. In some ways.” Lucien gave her a wry smile.

They sat in silence as they polished off the rest of Lucien’s fish. He didn’t touch on the rest of her story about her father, and Elain couldn’t tell if he pitied her, or if he simply didn’t care. 

The darkness enveloping them suddenly made Elain claustrophobic. What kinds of creatures had set their eyes on them, waiting for the ripe moment to pounce? What foreign sounds were concealed by night’s mystery? If she ever made it back to Colibri, she would never take working the evening shift for granted anymore. At least restaurants were warm and bright at night, and alive with chatter and cooking sounds. 

The thought of work made Elain yawn deeply. Fatigue from their hectic day settling over her, now that she had a belly full of food. She was ready to call it a night.

“What are you doing?” Lucien asked as Elain scooped up a clamshell full of water. 

“Putting out the fire?” she questioned uncertainly. “For safety?”

“I set up wards around us.” Lucien gestured to the skies, and Elain caught a faint glimmer of golden webbing, curving above them like a dome. A simple flick of his sticky fingers generated a filament of gold that joined the existing wards. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh. Alright.” Elain tossed the clamshell away. “Thank you.” 

Lucien’s fire lowered into a gentle, glowing flame; small enough for sleep, but steady enough to provide assurance in the oppressive gloom. Elain tucked herself against the mossy log, draping a large leaf over her body. 

The silver diamonds of stars shone more vibrantly, the night a jewelry box of constellations and galaxies. Elain spent a few moments scouring the skies before settling on a star that had a more golden glow. Perhaps this star would be a lucky one to cast her wishes. I wish I could make it home. I wish I could get my restaurant back. I wish I was no longer a frog. 

Crickets chirped, and water gently lapped the sandy shores. Elain glanced at Lucien, who lay on his back across from her, his hands interlaced over his round belly. The fire pulsated between them, illuminating his somber face. It seemed the prince was staring up at the night sky, wishing on stars, too. 

It was like looking at a mirror. He did help me when I had my…episode. And he also cooked me dinner…I suppose I should be a bit more gracious towards him, Elain reflected. Though the words were stuck in her throat, Elain managed to eek out a “good night, Lucien.” 

“Good night, Elain,” the prince replied. 

***Lucien***

“And see here…we have a water chestnut,” Elain said, pointing to a cluster of straight, green reeds as they drifted by. “Water chestnuts grow in the mud, and we add them to salads and meat dishes. Oh, and this is the highbush blueberry. In my opinion, they taste better than regular blueberries.” 

Lucien timed the flick of his tongue carefully, snagging one of the dusky blue fruits that hung from the bush as they passed underneath it. 

“They’re sweeter,” he said, with surprise. “The skin is also more delicate. I’d imagine they would bake nicely in a cobbler with fresh cream.” 

“That sounds delicious,” Elain sighed. “Oh look, the saltgrass. We must be going in the right direction, if the water is becoming saltier.” She gestured to the thick rows of light green grass stalks that edged the shoreline. Saltgrass looked like any other marsh plant to Lucien, but somehow, Elain could tell the difference. “We often grind it up as seasoning…it’s a bit sour and it goes well in dressings.”  

Elain had noticeably perked up when she began talking about the bayou’s vegetation. It had all been prompted with a simple question: Lucien asking what the pink flower was (a swamp rose) and whether it was edible (it was). 

She navigated their little raft between lily pads and around fallen logs, narrating like a tour guide as they went. Her large brown eyes sparkled like marbles, her pale green skin glossy under the sunlight. Even the way Elain opened her wide mouth to chatter and the way her entire body turned left-right, left-right, was…kind of cute, Lucien thought. 

Cute? A frog? There was no doubt that Elain as High Fae was the most beautiful female Lucien had ever seen…but as a frog? Mother’s tits, what am I thinking? 

“You sure know your plants very well,” Lucien said distractedly, running a green hand carelessly across the stalks as they passed.  

“Ah…well, the garden was my favorite place,” Elain admitted. Her bright expression dampened a bit, and Lucien could feel his brows lifting with concern. Was…he noted the particular wording she used. The garden she had before they lost everything. “I would spend hours there, laying under the ferns and draping moss, reading books and—” she stopped abruptly, as if realizing she was sharing too much.

“Say it,” Lucien pressed, wanting to hear more. He had a feeling he was smiling, for some strange reason.

“No, you’ll tease me.”

“Now you’ve got me interested,” Lucien chuckled. “Come on. I promise I won’t.” 

“Fine,” Elain huffed lightheartedly. “I would pretend I was a squirrel, gathering nuts and fruits and flowers for a hibernation party. We don’t have many squirrels in Summer, it’s too hot for them here.”

Lucien could see it now, a younger version of Elain in her Fae form, with chubby cheeks and honey-brown ringlets tied back with ribbons, crawling under lush canopies and carefully arranging an assortment of tropical fruits and flowers.

Gods, she must have been adorable. 

His heart clenched. Not only had he been seized by a sudden interest in her life, he was now fawning over what her childhood self must have been like! Lucien shook his head, driving the thoughts away. He was not one to be caught up in the intricacies of a female’s life, no matter how beautiful she was. And he intended to keep it that way. 

“Seems like normal youngling behavior to me,” Lucien responded nonchalantly. “If you come to Autumn, you’ll see plenty of squirrels. Fat brown ones, with bushy tails and beady little eyes.”

“Beady little eyes!” Elain seemed to take offense, placing her webbed hand over her sandy brown chest.

“Oh, they can be aggressive little critters,” Lucien smiled. “One of them bit my finger when I was young. It definitely left a scar.” He held up his left hand and wiggled the froggy appendages. 

Elain leaned in, inspecting his hand closely. Close enough for him to catalog the shape of the dark green speckles on her body, the shimmer of her amphibian green skin. Lucien’s breath stopped a little when Elain looked up, her large brown eyes sweet as toffee pudding in the sunlight.

“I don’t see any scar,” she frowned. An odd pang of dismay twinged in Lucien’s chest when Elain moved away to continue rowing. For once, he didn’t have any witty remarks to offer. “What is the Autumn Kingdom like?” she asked, continuing the conversation.

Lucien’s first thought was bleak: a conniving court, with nonsensical adherence to outdated ideas, and Beron’s red-hot anger. His father’s mood swings were temperamental storms: Beron moved between dour coldness and raging inferno. Lucien’s time in the Forest House was spent between seeking refuge in the library and placating his father’s whims. 

Would it be terrible for me to open up about how much I hate Autumn?

But Elain’s bright expression…no, he couldn’t douse that optimism. 

“It’s a beautiful place,” was what Lucien said instead. “The trees of the forests produce red, orange, and yellow leaves. A vibrant sea of living flame.” Lucien summoned a bit of fire in his palm for dramatic effect. 

“Our valleys are fertile, our farmlands in a perpetual state of harvest.” He inclined his head towards Elain. “Similar to the fields of Summer. Dryden—our capital city—is in the heart of our largest forest. But instead of clearing trees, my ancestors integrated themselves into the existing ecosystem. Our citizens live and work within an interconnecting network of trees and stones, not unlike the squirrels you pretended to be.”

Elain giggled at Lucien’s jest, the tinkling sound of her laugh making Lucien smile instinctively. “I would like to go to Autumn someday, then,” she sighed, staring across the marsh. Lucien perked up. 

“Then come visit,” he offered. Come visit me, he wanted to say. “I’ll give you a special tour.” 

Elain rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you say that to every female, Lucien. But thank you for the offer.” Fuck, that was a rejection, isn’t it? Or maybe she’s being polite with her refusal? Lucien scrambled for a response. 

“I’m being entirely serious, princess.” Elain stared at him, slightly confused. Then she snorted.

“As if you could ever be serious while calling me princess,” she replied amusedly. Her gaze turned forlorn again. “Perhaps. If we ever become Fae again. And once I get my restaurant up and running smoothly.” 

Speaking of which, Lucien couldn’t wait to become Fae again. Life as a frog was precarious, he learned, even while armed with powers. He’d bragged that he’d gone two days without going to parties, but of course he was a bit salty that he was missing out on all the festivities. He could be indulging in rich Summer fare and dancing the night away at Mardi Gras parties. 

Perhaps if they switched back soon enough, he could take Elain to a Mardi Gras party. Show her a bit of fun, maybe even get to know her better.

There goes my imagination again. Stop being delusional, Lucien. Lucien averted his eyes from the female frog who was steadily rowing in front of him. 

Elain is just starting to warm up to me, and bringing her to a party would only confirm her worst impressions of me. Besides, I’m an ugly frog, covered in mucus and warts. If she wasn’t head over heels when I was High Fae, she sure as hell won’t be into me now. 

One minute Lucien was glancing down into the silty waters, resentfully staring at the foreign frog face that had become so familiar to him. The next minute, a dark wisp curled around his leg, almost in a lazy lover’s caress. And then the shadow turned corporeal, gripping his ankle like an iron clamp.

“Elain!” his voice gurgled as the shadow yanked him off the raft and into the water. 

“Lucien!” came her muffled shout. Down, down, down into the muddy river bed the shadow dragged him. Lucien fought, twisting and pulling and paddling and kicking, but to no avail. The fluid darkness towed him along, kicking up silt and knocking him against decaying logs. 

He could see Elain hopping rapidly from log to log up above, but she was losing steam. Gods, no. He was not going to die a watery death. 

Think fast, Lucien! Fire makes light, he rationalized, fire could drive away this darkness. Lucien tunneled into the depths of his magic, grasping for a kernel of power that would unleash hell upon these shadow creatures. But it was not boiling fire that exploded from him. 

It was light. 

Golden, ethereal light poured from Lucien’s webbed fingers like rays of the sun. The beam sliced the shadow being in half, dissolving it into black shreds. But another shadow creature headed his way, wrapping a tendril around Lucien’s waist with chilling cold. Lucien turned himself into a ball of fire this time, the entity leaping back as if it had been burned. Lucien twisted and aimed the golden light for what he presumed was the center of the mass, disintegrating the being within seconds. 

Lucien broke the surface, gasping for air in his tiny frog lungs. Only a second of respite was given, before another shadow creature slammed into him, dragging him down again. 

“Fuck off.” Precious bubbles of air escaped Lucien as he said it, but it was well worth the satisfaction as he carved a clean hole into the shadow entity with the light beaming from his hands. Lucien kicked for the sky, thighs and webbed feet making powerful strokes in the swamp. He didn’t doubt there were more predators down below eager to gobble frogs up, regardless of their light and fire capabilities. 

“Lucien!” Elain was still screaming his name. She was perched on a floating log, brown eyes shining with fear. “Over here!” 

Lucien almost wanted to laugh at Elain holding a stick like a sword, as if it could do anything against those vicious shadow monsters. Still, it warmed his heart that she tried. Lucien swam towards her as fast as he could, his kicking feet in sync with treading arms. 

“Are you alright?” Elain’s voice sounded on the verge of tears as she hauled him up onto the log, her silver-lined eyes scanning the area for any more of the shadows. 

“Are you crying?” 

“N-n-no,” she stammered, but a traitorous tear slipped out of the corner of her big brown eyes. She wiped it away hastily. “I cry because I’m stressed, not because I’m sad.”

“And here I was, beginning to think you’d truly cared for me.” 

“Are you alright?” Elain asked again. She rubbed his back, the slippery coolness of her skin comforting against the heat of the moment.

Lucien took a deep breath. Eris’s warrior training rang through his frazzled state, guiding him into drawing down his adrenaline and soothing the magic that was still roiling within him. His hands were no longer glowing, thank gods, but they still tingled with residual magic.

“Of course I am. Doesn’t my pretty face still look the same to you?” he asked, gathering himself enough to joke some more. 

“What the hell were those things?” 

“I don’t know.” Lucien scanned their surroundings, but thankfully there was no sign of the shadow creatures. It seemed that once they disintegrated, they stayed gone. “I don’t think there are any more.”

“You were…you looked like you were glowing underwater. Was that what drove them away?” 

“Yes.” Lucien’s expression shifted into seriousness as he faced Elain. He held out his closed fist. Elain leaned in, curious. Creating a light so bright—he’d never done it before and wasn’t sure if he could do it again. 

His hands were green and slimy, his fingers webbed and thick. But ethereal golden light remained when he opened his palm. The tiny droplet of light floated up, pulsating and glowing like Lucien had plucked it out of the sun itself. The light was precious, filling some part of his soul that Lucien didn’t realize he was missing. He swallowed the thickness in his throat, suddenly overcome with emotion. 

“Goodness,” Elain breathed. Her large, round eyes gazed unblinkingly at it, her wide mouth opened slightly with fascination. There was not a single trace of judgment on her face, only pure amazement. “This is beautiful, Lucien.” 

Something about the reverence in her voice when she said his name…Lucien’s heart skipped a beat. Fuck. 

“I suppose it’s a useful party trick,” Lucien said carelessly, closing his fist and folding the light away with it. Light. Who else in his family could create a light like this? He turned and began walking down the log, hoping to erase the image of Elain’s wondrous expression from his mind by focusing on his family history.

“Party trick?” Elain repeated, her tone indignant once again. She followed him towards land. “If so, I would like to see it again.”

“Later, later,” Lucien replied, waving his hand.

This wasn’t the first time I’d been in the throes of battle, nor the first time I’d been a target singled-out in an attack. But according to my knowledge of Prythian Fae and monsters, shadow creatures don’t exist on their own. They are a product of magic. 

The fact that he was first turned into a frog, and then singled out by the shadow creatures…something was hunting him. A chill ran down Lucien’s spine. 

Who could it possibly be? He could not think of any enemies in particular. He had traveled across Prythian for years, and never had an issue even while flaunting his status most ostentatiously. So…who?

“The shadow creatures destroyed the raft,” Elain said forlornly. 

“Then we make it back to civilization on foot,” Lucien declared. Elain forged ahead into the thick green vegetation, using the rowing stick to push the leafy plants out of the way. Determined little thing, Lucien observed amusedly as she marched with vigor. 

But if someone was trying to capture him by any means necessary, that meant Elain was in danger, too. The possibility of shadow creatures wrapping their tendrils around her limbs and dragging her into the watery depths made something primal within Lucien rear its head. 

He fisted his webbed palms, feeling his blood boil with each passing second. Elain was scared of the dark, Lucien suspected, and if those shadows enveloped her into a cocoon of darkness, he would…he would…

The large stick Elain was wielding swung a hair too close to Lucien’s head, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Watch it, princess.” Lucien poked her in the back. 

“I can handle a big stick,” Elain retorted. “Just stay out of my way.” She continued to thwack through the brush. 

“How exciting.” Lucien grinned, her careless banter shattering the knuckle clenching thoughts he had earlier. Elain silently made the gesture for go-fuck-yourself without looking back. Lucien rolled his eyes and chuckled.

***Elain***

“Let’s rest up for the night,” Lucien’s voice suggested after what seemed like hours of walking. Exhaustion wore into Elain’s very bones, for she had leaned on constant movement as a way to stave off her anxious thoughts. Lucien’s endless chattering, the plentiful questions he’d asked her about the plants they passed by had also helped, whether he was aware of it or not.

She had foreseen the exact incident this afternoon, and had no idea what to make of it. 

“Alright,” Elain agreed, plopping down on a toadstool. Walking on hind legs also made her lower back ache, but she didn’t want to give that up. Hopping around on all fours would be a commitment—an acceptance—of her existence as a frog. 

At that moment, her stomach made a loud whine. Elain clutched her belly in embarrassment, hoping Lucien didn’t hear it. 

“But first, dinner.” Lucien stepped to the side, waving his green arm with flourish. The prince revealed a large mangrove leaf, laden with all sorts of edible plant matter such as berries and soft greens. 

“How did you do that?” Elain’s mouth dropped open. 

“You were so busy with the big stick that you didn’t realize I was picking up food along the way, hmm?” Lucien chuckled, popping a berry into his mouth. Elain poked Lucien playfully in the stomach with the stick for his remark, which he dodged easily with a teasing grin.  

Elain looked at the leaf more closely, noticing an assortment of the plants that she had previously described to Lucien. The prince had been paying attention to her ramblings about swamp flora, she realized.   

“Thank you,” Elain dipped her head slightly. This was the second time Lucien had scrounged up something for her to eat, and it surprised her: she had assumed the prince would be complaining about their circumstances and expecting her to wait on his every need. Perhaps that was exactly who he was, and he was acting differently to get her good side. Whatever the real reason was, it didn’t hide the fact that she was secretly pleased.

“Anything for you, princess,” Lucien smirked as he casually tossed another berry into the air, catching it with a flick of his long, pink tongue.

The berries and soft aquatic weeds were easy to get down, but the more fibrous plants required more vigorous “chewing”. Elain felt like an animal, smacking loudly as her rigid palate attempted to break down the roots without the use of teeth. 

“Are you alright?” Elain asked again, realizing Lucien had gone oddly quiet. He had said he was fine before, but Elain could tell he wasn’t. The prince sat across from her, his normally smirking mouth serious and his mismatched eyes pensive. The pale scar that cut the left side of his wide, amphibian face looked stark in the twilight. 

It was a moment before Lucien spoke. “I was thinking…Briallyn turning me into a frog and the shadows today seem interconnected.” Elain had suspected that, but to hear Lucien vocalize those thoughts…it solidified just how dire their situation was.

“But Briallyn is just a student,” Elain thought aloud. “Sure, she’s almost a full-fledged witch, but surely there are more skilled practitioners who could do this dirty work.” 

“Not necessarily.” Lucien’s face was grim. “Dark magic of this kind has been explicitly outlawed since the Hybern War ended. Many of the practitioners were killed during the War. Briallyn might have a mentor outside of the Colibri Academy.” His expression was haunted, and Elain wondered if the prince had fought in any of the battles. He would have been in his early twenties, then, a young male eager to prove his skill on the battlefield. 

“You can’t think of anyone who would target you?” The fear that seized her entire being when Lucien was pulled down had been so profound, Elain felt herself tremble at its recollection. 

The roiling shadows, the dark waters…she hated it. And it was getting dark again. She clutched her bit of taro root, hoping Lucien’s protective wards would be enough to keep the shadows at bay.

“I can’t,” Lucien shook his head. “That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out. It was actually…the first time. The first time I’ve been able to produce such light.”

“What do you mean?” Elain’s eyes widened. 

“I was trying to create fire,” Lucien explained. “But instead, light came out. And it’s completely new. I can’t think of any other family members who can do such a thing.” 

“I see.” Elain fidgeted with her green fingers, the mucus leeching from her pores making her hands feel extra sweaty. “I-I have something to say,” she forced out, the jitters making her voice shaky.

Lucien looked at her with a piercing interest. 

“Remember when I fainted?” Lucien nodded. “It wasn’t because I didn’t have enough to eat. I had a vision. Of what happened today. With you and the shadows. I saw what happened, before it happened. Do you get what I mean?” Talking about what happened was wading into foreign territory; Elain finished each phrase with an upturn that sounded like she was asking a question.

“A vision,” Lucien murmured thoughtfully. 

“It was my first time, too. I don’t have any powers. Well..I thought I didn’t, until today.” 

“Experiencing premonitions is a skill characteristic of Seers. You haven’t had any other visions?” Lucien’s tone was curious, with a hint of concern. Elain shook her head. “Interesting.”

“Do Seers manifest their powers later on in life?” Elain asked. 

“No, they follow the same path of maturation as all other Fae with powers.” Lucien scratched one of the olive ridges at the top of his head. “I suppose it is unusual for us to discover new powers like this, though.”

“Maybe being turned into frogs activated something?” Elain suggested. But Lucien didn’t look convinced. 

“A transformation curse doesn’t typically do that,” Lucien explained. “It changes victims physically, but everything else remains the same. There must be some deeper reason…I’ll have to think about it.”

Although it was obvious Lucien’s royal education would provide him a vast depth of knowledge about magic, the prince’s demeanor had morphed into that of a pondering scholar. It was a stark contrast to his joking, frivolous attitude from before. Elain snuck a glance at him, blinking as she saw Lucien in a different light. Who knew princes could be complex?

Splish, splish. A smattering of droplets plinking down onto Elain’s bare head heralded the distant boom of thunder. Rain began to fall as silver-white lightning slashed across the night sky. Abandoning his dinner, Lucien hopped towards a hosta sapling for shelter. Elain looked around but unfortunately, the only plant that provided leaves broad enough for coverage was the tiny hosta plant.

“Ah, princess,” Lucien greeted jovially, putting their somber conversation in the past when she peeked under. “Go find your own leaf.” The prince smirked widely and lowered his voice. “Unless, you care to join me here.”

The thunder boomed even louder, its vibrations making Elain’s bones rattle. The rain increased into a torrential downpour. She might be soaking wet already, but she wasn’t keen on spending the night in a puddle. Elain gritted her teeth, putting her pride aside as she asked, “may I join you?” Lucien smiled broadly at her question.

“Why, I thought you would never ask.” The prince scooched over just a smidge, leaving a little patch of dry dirt for Elain. She balked slightly, realizing how close they would be, before joining him. Both frogs tucked themselves in on all fours, and Elain wiggled an indentation in the soil to rest her weary little body.

It had been several months since she’d lain next to a male. It doesn’t count, Elain told herself as she pressed against Lucien’s firm body. He was like a solid wall, shielding her from the outside world. She felt…safe. And a bit girlishly giddy at the thought of being next to a prince. He may be a prince, but he’s also a frog. I’m not attracted to frogs.

“Good night, Elain.” She thought Lucien had gone to sleep, for his eyes had closed.

“Night, Lucien,” Elain murmured, her voice soft as she drifted off.

[chalicepumasway]

DnD Background for Skezzleman son (yes Hermitcraft related)

Skezz Le Manson by ChalicePumaSway

            Skezz was taken to an orphanage by a group of hunters who found him crying on the side of a river. There was a man nearby stabbed to death with all his clothes and possessions stolen. This was a common story, bandits jump someone and kill them but are unwilling to slay a babe or child they might have been carrying. Sometimes the hunters find the babe before the animals do and sometimes they don’t.

Skezz was luckier than some but life in an orphanage is no easy life. You have ragged clothes and porridge every day. People come to look for a child to adopt but if you are too young or too old you get passed over. Skezz had scars on his arm from his childhood run in with bandits and when adopters saw these flaws they assumed the child was wild, no matter how sweet or funny you actually were. You get to meet clerics and noblemen only when they are doing a good deed before the eyes of many. On one of these many visits the Baron brought his son, Imploso.

Imploso was a lonely only child, expected to keep a crisp appearance and perfect behavior at all times. He caught one glance of Skezz’s confident lopsided grin and woefully wished for a friend like him. When the Baron had finished inspection of the children and had his back turned to discuss the donation to the orphanage, Skezz tossed Imploso a little frog he pulled from the pocket on the front of his overalls. Imploso caught it with a small squeak and his eyes grew wide as he had never touched such a slimy wonderous creature in his life. He loved it. The Baron turned back to make sure his son was following him and Imploso shoved the little frog into his beautiful feathered cap he had taken off when entering the building. They made it outside before the little frog made a ribbet noise and the Baron looked around for the source.  He glared at his son and asked him if he had picked something up while they were there. He hid the cap behind him, scared his father would hurt the small creature. Skezz walked up and snatched the frog back from the cap and held it out to the Baron. Showing him it was his pet making all the noise and Imploso was innocent as can be. The Baron was satisfied with this and went to go. Imploso gave Skezz a quick hug of thanks and whispered to him to take care of the little froggy buddy. Skezz misheard him and thought Imploso called him Homie Buddy and waved good bye to his Homie Buddy.

Years passed and Skezz was old enough to apprentice with a local Mason. His easy and friendly nature made for good company but he was an even harder worker. He felt the need to prove himself useful and capitalize on the opportunity he was being given. Most children had their parents pay to get into an apprenticeship. While Skezz had gotten in by making himself a favorite of the local brick layers. The whole crew of them loved his jokes and his silly nicknames and dances. When an opening became available during Skezz’s 14th birthday week, the crew put together money for his apprenticeship bid. The bid was accepted and Skezz was moved from the orphanage to the Mason’s guild house.

He hadn’t gotten his growth spurt yet and on the gruel he was being fed at the orphanage. He was unlikely to grow to his full potential. In the guild house he cleaned tool sets, ran water, and gathered firewood. He even beat the brick dust off the thick leather aprons and boots all the masons wore to work. His appetite was voracious and he would do extra work on the side for the butcher and the farmers for any extra scraps of food they’d be willing to part with. The local cleric noticed the entire village seemed to enjoy his company and called him a son of Man. The name Skezz Le Man’s Son became Manson and he was often also called Skezz Le Mason.

Another few years pass and Skezz is in the height of his youth, a young strapping lad of 20.  He worked hard during the day with the Mason crew and would party harder in the evenings at the local tavern. He was known for giving all the ladies, old and young a great big smile and a wink, and every buddy he happened across a great big bear hug. On one of these evenings a young blonde man, lithe and graceful came in wearing a cloak without a single tear or any wear in it. He slipped into a chair near the door and ordered a simple local wine. His demeanor though was downtrodden and he wouldn’t make eye contact with a single soul.

Skezz hadn’t noticed him right away, he was playing cards with one of his crewmates and was winning. The hand was over and his friend was dismayed at the amount of coin he lost, so Skezz went to the bar to get him a drink to soothe his wounded ego. As he was waiting on the pour he looked around and noticed the young lad, knowing this was a friend he had yet to make he ordered a second drink and dropped the first off with his friend. He walked right over to the young land and dropped the drink on the table with a whoop and a holler that scared the young lad. He threw his head back and the hood of the cloak fell. His clean skin and blonde locks gave him away as nobility. Skezz noticed this but was more concerned at the sorrow surrounding the poor lad.

“You should join us for a round of cards! It will perk you right up my Homie Buddy.” The phrase he had been using since his run in with Imploso. Imploso blinked at him and his mouth dropped.

“Skezz? From the orphanage? The one who gifted me a frog?”

“Imploso? The Baron’s son?” Skezz grinned from ear to ear and clapped Imploso on the back with a heavy hand. “Well now I’m not gonna take no for an answer! Come game with us my first Homie Buddy!” And a deep friendship was born.

The rounds of cards and beer flowed well into the dawn’s first light. When the last of the Masons had slumped out the door leaning on one another hoping to get a few winks in before the work day began, Skezz and Imploso were left alone on the tavern steps. Skezz leaned back watching the light break through the trees. He finally asked what had been on his heart all night.

“What are you running away from?”

Imploso let out a squeak and his shoulders slumped. He had almost let go entirely of his worries in a fun filled night but here they were waiting for him in the morning light. “My father in law to be.”

Skezz let out a whistle. “Wow at least I can trust you have some real serious issues before you try and take off. Wanna let me in, Homie Buddy? Maybe I can help.”

“Well as you know I’m the Baron’s son. My betrothed has been the same since I was born. She’s lovely, truly, nothing bad to say about her. Her father on the other hand has always treated me as his heir. Which means I have to live up to his expectations as well as my father’s. I’ve been very good at meeting those expectations up until recently. “ Imploso sighed.

“So what changed?”  Skezz toyed with a blade of grass, folding it and tying it into a knot.

“Jousting.” Imploso broke out into tears.

Skezz instantly knew what had happened. Locally jousting had become a huge sport. It had been years ago and lost favor and now something had happened that caused a revival and the fever for it was insatiable. The only people who could afford the equipment were Nobles and so only nobles were permitted to play.

“So your father in law is into jousting.” Skezz sighed. “Rough buddy.”

“I know! I’ve spent my whole life learning how to dance and use the right fork at dinners and wrote my betrothed poetry. I have read countless books he gave me cover to cover and even quoted his favorite authors to him. I’ve never picked up a sword before in my life! The only thing I have going for me is that I know how to ride a horse.” The woes spilled from Imploso in a heated flow.

“He can’t expect you to suddenly be good at jousting can he?” Skezz looked at Imploso who just nodded at him exaggeratedly.

“Absolutely he can and he does. He has entered me into a tourney! I don’t want to die!” Imploso began to shake and tears fell from his eyes in torrents. “So I RAN! My father and my future father in law are going to absolutely get me killed if I go back and will kill me if I DON’T go back.”

Skezz pulled Imploso into a great bear hug. Imploso squeaked as his back cracked from the strength of his friend hardened by manual labor. His face covered in tears and snot dripping from his nose he rested his head on Skezz’s shoulder.

“We’ll figure it out Homie Buddy. I know we will. I’m not sure how but you’re really smart and I’m friends with a lot of people. We can ask around and see if anyone knows a way to make this work.”  Skezz released Imploso and pulled the handkerchief from Imploso’s cloak pocket and wiped his buddy’s tears. Imploso took it from him and blew his nose.

“Why….why do you still use that phrase, Homie Buddy? You do know I said froggy buddy that day.” Imploso continued to clean up his appearance, the movements seemed habitual as if he couldn’t stop himself from making himself presentable.

“Yeah one of the kids pointed that out later to me. I just….loved the idea that my home was a person or many people. I lived my whole life in the orphanage and watched other people have homes where they lived with families. Something I’d always hoped to have. After I met you I realized that even with a home and a family you…needed more.” Skezz sighed and considered his next words carefully.

“I did need more, gosh Skezz you have no idea how much I wanted to be your friend that day. I could never have told my father, he’d be so mad at me.” Imploso had started to clean under his nails with the handkerchief. “He brought me there to show me how good I had it. All I could see was the freedom you all had to be yourselves. I know it is dumb. I had everything but I would have traded it all for a friend.”

Skezz held back tears for a moment and then met eyes with Imploso who looked so utterly defeated and failed.  They streamed silently down his rugged features he felt weak as if he started crying the tears would never stop. “I started…making friends with everyone after I met you. There were some squabbles in the orphanage but I refused to let the kids fight. I told them all we had was one another we had to take care of each other. It didn’t always work, we had kids stealing things brought in by the new kids who had stuff from their homes after their parents died in battles. I got into a fight with one and while I was hitting him he started to cry and I stopped. He looked up at me and said “why do I have to be in pain all the time and why are my parents gone, please just let me have this.” It was a toy one of the other kids had brought with him. I never touched another kid after that. I told myself if a kid needed something I would do everything in my power to get it for them. But I didn’t have anything myself so I made friends with other people and would do work for them, whatever they needed in exchange for whatever a kid needed.”

“Oh Skezz…you have no idea how much that little frog changed my life. I started to tinker with automatons and machines to try and make a friend for myself. Every single one of them had your lopsided grin.” Imploso started to cry again and his self preening was utterly ruined by more tears and snot.

Skezz smiled at the thought that there were automatons with his face on them living in a beautiful, gilded house while he worked his fingers to the bone. “Even the masons guild house is a place I could lose if I get injured or lose a limb or get too old to work. Friends though, friends are a home you always have no matter what you lose. So I guess I will always call people my Homie Buddy because to me they are my home and you’re my first Homie Buddy.”

“So you really mean it when you say we’ll figure this out together. You’re gonna save me from this whole jousting thing.” Imploso let out a shakey sigh. Hope had started to creep into his heart full of fear and terror. He felt like crying but all of a sudden he let out a laugh as the tears rolled down his face.

Skezz joined him and the two laughed with a strange hysterical bent to it. After a few minutes the tavern owner opened the door and gave Skezz a look he was all too familiar with.

“We can’t stay here. I can let you crash at the Masons Guild House today. I’m not working today so we can get some rest and then ask around to see if anyone knows anything.” He stood up and held his hand out to Imploso who looked at it for a second and with a small smile took it as Skezz helped him to his feet and let go.They started down the village path drenched in early morning light. It really felt like a new beginning for both of them.

They got to the Mason Guild house and passed into the main hall. Some of the guildmembers were already sitting down to breakfast being served by a sweet faced lady in a lightly food stained yellow checkered apron and faded off white linen dress. She looked up at Skezz and a huge smile broke out over her face. She took a look at Imploso and gave Skezz a wink.

“You brought home another stray, Skezz. You boys need some breakfast after a night of drinking? Should I get your regular, Skezz?”  She patted him on the arm. Skezz winked at her then he gave her a one armed hug and rested his head on her brown and gray curls.

“If you wouldn’t mind. I of course will be happy to help clean the kitchen before I crash out as per usual.” She nodded at him and Skezz and Imploso took a seat at one of the tables with benches lined on either side. She served them heaping plates of sausages and a bowl of oatmeal with an apple. The tiredness swept over them as their bellies were filled with warm breakfast. Skezz took the plates and walked over to the kitchen door, Imploso followed closely behind him. Skezz stopped at the door. “You don’t have to do this. Its just a deal I have worked out with her if I bring a non-guild member in for breakfast.”

“You’re basically paying for my breakfast, the least I could do is help.” Skezz nodded and they both stepped into the kitchen. Imploso was terrible at sweeping and doing dishes. He was ok at wiping down the counters and restocking the oats for the next round of hungry masons. Skezz chuckled to himself as he watched the Baron’s son struggle with basic tasks. Imploso kept catching his eye and shaking his head and snickering. “Yes! I know I am bad at this. I just…wanted to help, ok?”

“Its great Homie Buddy, don’t sweat it.” Skezz took the basket of linens from the counter. “I’ll drop this off at the washing station in the courtyard and we can get some sleep.”

After dropping off the wash, they walked through the halls pretty quietly, not everyone was awake yet. Skezz opened the door to his room and Imploso let out a little noise of shock. Two dogs looked up from beds tucked against the end of the wooden bed frame. There was a medium sized cage on a table with a large bowl of water and 3 frogs hopping around. There was a brown and gray bird sitting in a nest on the open window sill and three cats curled up in the bed below the window. A fourth cat was crawling in the window past the nest, the bird didn’t react at all even though they were close together.

“This, this is where all your mason money goes, doesn’t it? To feeding this crazy lot of animals you have.” Imploso walked over to the frog cage. Skezz closed the door behind him quietly.

“No. Most of these are just pets the rest of the masons have, they just chose to sleep in my room at night because they know I’m not going to be here and they like hanging out with one another.” Skezz pulled the covers back from the bed and tightened the rope around the hay sack bedding so it pulled the hay together.

“So other people’s pets like to hang out with you more than they like hanging out with their owners?” Imploso shook his head and started to lay his cloak on the floor next to the two resting dogs who wagged their tails as he approached.

“Naw naw, you sleep in the bed, I know you’re not used to sleeping on a floor as nobility and while my bed isn’t a feather mattress but its better than the floor.” Skezz pointed at the bed and Imploso scoffed although he felt grateful at the same time.

“I’m sure we can..” Before he could finish his sentence the door slammed opened.

“SKEZZ!” A lean blonde man with eyes made of flames stood in the door as the suddenly frightened animals scattered. The cats out the door and the window, the bird took flight around the room then went out the window and the dogs stood up in their beds and barked. “Buddy you were on fire last night with those cards. I had to take off after my loss of course because ya know I had important things to do but I promise I’ll be getting you your money today!

Skezz sighed and came to pet the dogs until they settled back into the beds. Imploso sat on the bed looking at feathers and fur left behind in the panic. “You know better than that Tongo, I’ll take your money whenever you have it. If you can’t get it to me just volunteer at the orphanage or do some work for the kitchen to help for an IOU.”

“No offense buddy but I don’t like volunteering at the orphanage, every time I go the kids ask me to burn the place down. I ask them if they want to be kids without families and without a roof over their heads. They all think they are going to get adopted by the Baron if there isn’t an orphanage to live in. Silly kids. Speaking of, this guy looks like the Baron’s son.” Tongo looked Imploso up and down, obviously used to the fact Skezz brought back people to his room all the time.

“He is the Baron’s son, Tongo Topin, this is Imploso, son of our local Baron.” Skezz sat on the end of the bed next to the dogs and continued to pet and settle them. The one with redish brown fur leaned into his hand and softly wagged his tail and gave a yawn.

“WHAT? Geeze Skezz you make friends with everyone, but nobility. That’s got to be a new one for you.” Tongo looked Imploso up and down. “What are you even doing here? How did you skadoodle past the guards your father has around his place? That place is locked up tight.”

“It’s a long story and to be honest I’m pretty tired. Skezz knows how to party and clean up afterwards. Now I’m barely upright.” Imploso took the pillow off the bed and fluffed it a second. “We were just about to argue who got to sleep on the floor and who was going to be forced to sleep in the bed.”

“Oh, well you can crash in my bed, Imploso, you stay in here you’ll be cuddling all manner of animals by the time you wake up. I’m next door.” Tongo stepped out and the pair followed him. Tongo opened his door. The room’s furniture was a mirror of Skezz’s except every surface was covered in automatons and scrap metal parts. Even the bed had a small robot on each bedpost. Imploso let out a delighted cry.

“You work with automatons too? Oh Wow!! Yeah this feels very familiar. My own room looks similar. I could definitely crash here and sleep well with the smell of oil and metal. “ Imploso gave the sweetest smile to Skezz who nodded back with his signature grin.

“And by similar you mean like a 10th of the size of your room. I’ve got to go and get the fires for the kilns running then I have some guys I have to meet up with for….uhhh, reasons.” Tongo dipped suddenly. Skezz looked after him, concern clearly etched on his face.

“How does that guy know how big my room is? Is everything ok you look worried.” Imploso pulled the sheets back on Tango’s bed and slid his boots off. He placed his cloak on one of the hooks next to the bed. Tongo had a few tools on the hooks next to it. Some of them looked like custom creations.

‘I dunno, Top has this habit of getting mixed up with the wrong kind of people. He was pretty vague about who he was meeting and as you’ve seen he doesn’t normally hold anything back without good reason. Oh and he comes from a family with some ties to a criminal group. His mother got him into the masons to make sure he stayed away from it but he has brothers and cousins and his dad is still in it. They are descended from fire elementals, don’t ask me how I didn’t know they could cross with humans.” Skezz watched as Imploso settled into the bed. “You gonna be good, need anything?”

“Naw. I should be good. I’m really tired. I’ll be out like a candle flame in a storm I’m sure.” He smiled at Skezz one more time and rolled over onto his side facing the wall, pulling the blanket over him. Skezz watched him for a moment more and went back to his room and crashed.

[angelsdean]

about the ensemble cast missed opportunities.

cas and dean babysitting baby cas and baby sam while sam, garth and bess hunt down some monster of the week with a very sniffable smell.

jack and claire sibling team up to save dean and sam, who turned into adorable frogs after being cursed by a fairy tale related object. meanwhile cas is on a girls night out trip with eileen and rowena, but they are disturbed by one of rowena's ex girlfriends.

crowley centered episode where he is bored running hell and takes a vacation everytime he wants to sip on his cocktail and relax, someone else calls him for help/info etc

yesssssss i want all of that !!!

deancas babysitting adventures would be sooo funny. i'm torn between cas wanting to actually put all the baby knowledge he gained from those parenting books to good use OR him just angel-magicking away any issue. like baby is fussy bc they have gas? angel magics them all better. teething pain? not anymore! hungry? sims-cheat-style fills their hunger bar. gross diaper situation? grace-zaps it clean again. meanwhile dean's got the other twin and he's running around warming up a bottle with one hand and bouncing and singing to the baby in the other arm. he's got sweat and baby spit-up all over his shirt. cut to cas sitting on the sofa peacefully reading to his twin. i think cas has baby sam while baby cas is making dean's life a living hell jdkfdkg

frog shenanigans: jack keeps frog!dean and frog!sam in his jacket pockets. dean keeps grumpily ribbeting for attention. sam is trying to communicate in morse code because he thinks he knows how to turn them back but jack is just like "you guys are sooo cute" and puts them back in his pocket. both claire and jack are also Very Determined to solve this together on their own and insist they Cannot Under Any Circumstances disrupt cas, rowena, and eileen's girls night out trip even tho rowena def could undo the curse in a second.

crowley, poor crowley. let the man drink his little fruity drinks in peace! he's about to close the gates to hell himself if one (1) more person calls him! he should've never gotten the demons on a cellphone plan

[eadanga]

A Very Merry Christmas

Chris slowly opened his eyes and smiles as he sees the snow falling on the ground then he looks around confused What time is it? He grabs his phone then his eyes go wide “Shit!” He throws off the covers and heads downstairs. He sees his wife Sarah playing with their 2 year old daughter Hailey

“What sound do frogs make Hailey”

“Boo!”

Sarah laughs “Ribbet not boo”

“Booibet!”

Sarah laughs harder “You’ll get it eventually” She looks up and sees Chris watching them “Oh you’re finally awake good morning sleeping beauty”

Hailey stands as she walks to him “Dada!”

Chris smiles and picks her up “Hi princess” He kisses her cheek then he sighs “I overslept and forgot didn’t I?”

Sarah stands “That you did but don’t worry it’s all done” She points to the dinner table filled with food

“I’m sorry baby”

“I told you not to spend the night watching those Christmas movies” She playfully smacks him

Chris chuckles a holds up a hand in surrender “Ok ok this is my fault I know” He smiles “But you did a good job baby”

“Yup and just in time too soon all our guest will arrive to celebrate Christmas with us”

“Who’s coming again baby?”

“Well my family and your family”

“That’s it? I expected more people”

Sarah laughs “You’re probably so used to all the college parties we used to have”

Chris chuckles “Guess it still hasn’t worn off”

Hailey fusses “Food!”

Chris smiles “You want to eat cutie? Before everyone else”

“Hungrwy!”

Chris chuckles “Ok baby let’s go make you some food”

Sarah smiles as she follow them into the kitchen Chris warms up Hailey’s plate and sits her in her chair “There you go”

Hailey slowly digs her hand into the food then grins “Yummy”

“Yes it’s yummy”

Hailey claps her hands and continues to dig into her food

Chris whispers “I have something for you beautiful”

Sarah blushes “You didn’t have to get me anything Chris”

“But I wanted to” He kisses her cheek “Wait here”

He heads down to the basement then comes back up with a wrapped gift “Here you go”

Sarah smiles as she unwraps the gift and opens the small rectangular box her eyes go wide at the Cuban link necklace “Chris…”

“That’s for you baby”

Sarah grins and throws her arms around him “Chris thank you” She pulls away with tears in her eyes “This is beautiful baby”

“I’m glad you love it here let me help you put in on” Chris takes the necklace out and stands behind her

“Chris this must have been expensive how did you get this?”

Chris smiles as he fastens the necklace “Do you like it?”

“I love it but”

“Then that’s all that matters” He kisses her cheek “It’s looks amazing on you”

Sarah goes to look at herself in the mirror then throws her arms around him “Thank you Chris I love you”

“I love you too baby”

Sarah smiles “I have something for you too” She steps out the room and returns with a small gift

Chris smiles as he takes the package and opens it and looks confused “Babe this is my jersey”

Sarah giggles “Look closer Chris”

Chris looks and his eyes got wide when he sees the signatures on it “No way”

Sarah grins “Yup all the Dallas Cowboys signed it”

Chris’s jaw drops as he looks from her to the jersey then back at her again “How the hell did you?”

“My dad has a friend who works with the team he went to go visit him I had him bring you’re jersey so they can sign it”

Chris quickly puts it on then let’s out a joyful laughter as he picks her up and spins her around

“Chris! Put me down!”

Chris laughs as he sets her down and kisses her deeply he pulls away then rests his forehead “I love you baby thank you so much”

“Anything for you Chris and I love you too”

“Finish!”

Chris smiles as he walks over to her “Good girl you ate all your breakfast”

Hailey reaches out with her hands “Up!”

Chris chuckles as he lifts her up out the chair as Sarah takes her plate “You want juice?”

Hailey nods “Ya”

Sarah smiles as she hands her the juice Chris smiles as her wraps an arm around her waist pulling her closer “You know gifts are nice but this is the best gift right here my two favorite girls”

Sarah smiles “Merry Christmas Chris”

“Merry Christmas my love”

Tags: @mfackenthal @indiacater @the-soot-sprite @darley1101 @jared2612 @choicesgodfanatic