#that amphibian always puts a smile on my face

[bks-writing-adventures]

Little Dancer (Aemond Targaryen X Lannister! Reader)

Summary: A wholesome little journey between the first time Aemond met his wife to the birth of their children.

Warnings: Mentions of childbirth, brief mentions of sex.

Aemond never thought he would be a father. He never even thought he would get married, until you came around at a ball. He forgot what it was, a name day of his nephews? Some celebration for his parents marriage? None of it mattered, because he sat still at his family table, watching the room dance and watching lords get drunk and stupid. And all of a sudden you had blocked his view, your hands on either side of his plate. 

“Do all Princes sit pouting at balls?” You asked. The question flustered him, his one eye meeting yours. It was like you were challenging him, and the thought made his heart spin in his chest. 

“Only when he has no one to dance with.” He answered. The words magically came to him, and he held his breath as he had waited for you to respond. 

“It is a good thing I am here then, is it not? Or would you rather sit here, eating scraps and wishing to be elsewhere?” You were so teasing- so confident, and before he knew it, his hand was wrapped around yours, and you were walking backward as you dragged him to the dancefloor. He did not have the time to be self conscious, and he could no longer let his eye wander as his hands landed on yours, spinning you, watching how your skirts swished and your hair got fluffy and frizzed. 

“So who are you, my little dancer?” He asked softly, holding you closer to him. You were warm, and he couldn’t tell what was making his heart pound. Your presence or the wine, or maybe an intoxicating blend of both.

 “(Y/N) Lannister,” You answered, licking your lips as the song ended. “If you wish to get to know me, we should move somewhere quieter,” You said gently, and he smiled as his eye wandered. 

“I know a place,” He said softly, his arm linked with yours as he carefully lead you out and into the gardens. It was quite the scandalous thing, he was well aware- but he didn’t care enough to stop. His brother was far from proper, he was a criminal and a disappointment. Speaking to a pretty girl in the garden would not be the worst crime. The garden hiccuped with the sounds of grasshoppers and frogs, and you smiled at the sound. 

“Do you know what that sound is?” You asked softly, and he gave you a curious look as you walked further into the great land of flowers. 

“Frogs,” He said simply, to which you nodded. 

“Mating frogs. Do you know how many eggs a frog can lay at once?” You asked.

 “Do you tell everyone your favorite amphibians facts, or am I special?” He smiled a little, trying not to let his interest show on his face. 

“There are facts much more interesting than that,” You answered, and for a few minutes, the two of you simply walked in the quiet. 

“How many eggs can a dragon lay?” You asked. 

“You take an interest in dragons, My Lady?” He asked in return, to which you nodded. He quietly sat on a bench, pulling you down to sit beside him. The moonlight did not do much to guide either of you, but he could make out the bridge of your nose and the slight shine of your eyes in the darkness. “Well, they can lay five, at most.” He responded, wondering if that would be enough for you.

 “Why is that? And what are they like?” You asked, resting your chin on your hand. You had always liked to learn about science, and this was your way in. Into the world of infinite books and knowledge. And he just had such a pretty face, which definitely helped the case. 

“The eggs? They’re hard and large and scaly,” He responded, reaching over to touch your hand. It was a daring move, but he wanted to feel you. In the darkness, touch the soft skin of your hand and wrist, and you didn’t move away.

 “Why is that? Are they not reptiles?” You asked quietly, and he had to lean closer to hear you.

 “Dragons cannot be put into a box, My Lady. They are everything and nothing. No mortal could ever learn to understand them,” He murmured, gently guiding your hand to his mouth so he could kiss it. He wasn’t sure what it was about you that attracted him so. You were just so unconventional, untrained. It was fascinating. 

“Not even Targaryens?” You asked softly as his breath tickled your fingers.

 “Certainly not. We only shout commands and hope they listen,” He chuckled softly. He was about to speak again when a loud shout suddenly broke the walls of intimacy around them. For the love of Gods, this did not look good. He wasn’t sure if he pushed your hand away, or if you pulled it back, but all contact was quickly broken as the two of you rushed to stand up. 

“Aemond, what is the meaning of this?” His mother sounded rather angry. She always was, whenever something like this happened. This was the worst possible time for her to wander over. 

“Mother, I was simply conversing with the Lady Lannister, and-” She cut him off, making his lips purse. 

“Without a chaperone, in the darkness, away from the sights of others? Do you understand how scandalous this is?” As you both shrunk under her lecture, neither of you argued back. And soon enough you and Aemond were sat before his mother and your own as they discussed. 

“We did nothing unholy. We were only speaking of the anatomy of dragons,” You frowned, to which your mother quickly shook her head.

 “Is that what they call it nowadays? This is out of control, and now your honor is ruined,” She huffed, and you stared down boredly at your hands. This is not how you thought your night would go, and the next sentence only made things more bizarre. 

“Her honor is not ruined, and I will ensure it. I intend to make (Y/N) my wife.” Aemond spoke, making your head quickly turn. All arguments died out like a flame without air, his eye soft and apologetic as he looked at you. But neither of you could claim to be mad about it. It was only the Gods’ odd way of making a match, and the next days were full of shy conversation and blushing cheeks, loomed over by your parents as they dissected every interaction.  

“I have a gift for you,” he said softly, pulling out a large book from his bag. It was bigger than your head, and the spine as so thick it could easily be mistaken for a brick. 

“Wow,” You mumbled, trying to read the front cover, but it is not in Common. Your eyes looked to his face, a curious look taking over your own.

 “It is in High Valyrian, its one of the oldest books in our library- well, not that one, that is a copy. The original would crumble like sand in your palms. But the language will be important for you to learn, I thought we could practice together,” He spoke, getting a little shy. It was a sweet sight, and you nodded as he explained. 

“Then you should allow me to teach you some Nyvia.” You responded. His brows scrunched a little. He had never heard of the language in his life.

 “And what is that?” He asked gently, intrigued. He didn’t realize you were bilingual, too.Your children would be an interesting batch. 

“My mothers first language. It is dying out, not many speak it anymore. Are you familiar with the island of Nyav?” You asked, and he nodded slowly. He had read about it in history books. It had been a brilliant place of beautiful plants and even more beautiful people. The stories said that it was lost to the sea, or to conquering, no one was sure. You were like a God of the old world, sitting right before him. 

“She lived there as a young girl, escaped before it disappeared, when she was betrothed to my father. I will admit that my own speaking is messy, but at least it is alive,” You spoke, slowly opening the book he had given you. You squinted a little. The letters were familiar, but the order was unlike anything you had ever seen. The longer he looked at you, the more questions formed in his head. 

“Do you think you have any Valyrian in you?” He asked. Nyvia had belonged to no one at all, no one knew where the people came from, only that they had not been there all along. Perhaps it had begun with Targaryen’s fleeing the Doom, or other Valyrians that escaped to the sea and washed upon its shores. 

“I do not think so. I do not look the part,” You reminded him, watching as his hand inched closer to yours, your fingertips brushing. It was perhaps the most touch you would be allowed until after you were married.

 “White hair does not make a Valyrian. It was only a thought,” He said, gently shrugging. His mind wandered to your children, the ones he would have with you. How many there would be. If they would have hair like yours, or hair like his own. How they would look on dragonback, and if you could all fly together as a family. Vhagar was more than big enough for two. You could hold his waist, and he would fly ahead of the children, and they would follow him like ducklings. Maybe you would have 12 children, one for every moon of the year. He cleared his throat as his mother called for him. Your meeting was done for the day. And when two more moons passed, it was finally your wedding day. Your dress clung to every part of your body, and your hair was covered with a heavy veil, beaded with pearls and gems big enough to pay off an entire house. 

The maids had tried to get you to agree to having pinned hair, or a more tradition style, but you declined. You never liked having too much on you, weighing you down. The air was stuffy with the breath of hundreds, and you tried not to look at the crowd as Aemond stood before you. “Kessa sagon sȳz.  Laesi va nyke.” He murmured softly, and you nodded as your eyes studied his face. He was wearing his fanciest eyepatch. You wondered how many were in his collection, and if you would ever see him without it. If he slept with it on. As you both repeated the words of the Septon, and it came time for the kiss- you stared at each other for a long, awkward few seconds, trying to figure out which one of you would lean in first. You may have been brave enough to approach him that first night, when he was just a sulking stranger. But now things were so much bigger. You had an audience. 

Finally, once he accepted you would not be the one to do it, he leaned down to press a brief, awkward kiss on your mouth, and you both parted with small, sheepish smiles. Once you were at your table, you both let out deep breaths from your lungs, and finally,you could curl up together, your arms looped around his as you giggled into his sleeve. “That was unbearable,” Your words were light, but the hit was strong, and he chuckled awkwardly. He had hoped the kiss was not that bad. But he felt a wave of uncertainty rushing into him. The first kiss was supposed to be magical, like you were bathing in fire and pureness and all that was good. But it felt like a child smushing two dolls together. 

He only hoped that with time, things would get better. And oh, how they certainly did. The bedchamber was full of soft sounds, and for every moan came ten laughs and raised brows. “Mm.. you sound like you are being murdered,” He murmured into your shoulder, and you smiled as you squeeze his hand. 

“And you sound like you’ve run 30 miles,” You responded as he panted onto your skin. 

“Oh, hush,” He smiled, gently biting your neck. 

“Little vampire,” You mumbled before he gently guided your face down to a pillow. He did not expect anything to come of your night of teasing and touch, but when six weeks had passed, he woke in the morning to you squirming from his arms. 

“It is too early for you to wake.” He grumbled. He had been an early bird before your marriage, before he was up into the early hours of dawn inside you, kissing you, teaching you High Valyrian as you tried to teach him Nyvia. 

“Yoane,” He spoke, and you shook your head. 

“Yo-awn-ee.” You repeated, and he tried once more.

 “Yoane,” He nodded, and you groaned into your hands.You were trying to teach him the words for love, your face pink with laughter. But as you rushed to the bathroom, your face took on an almost gray hue, and he found himself holding your hair in a big bundle as you spittled into the chamberpot, your belly soft and your nose sensitive. You were with child, or perhaps three or four, for when you reached your second trimester, you were a giant.

 “Mmm… you are like a dragon,” He mumbled as he kissed upon your stretched skin. 

“How so?” You asked softly, caressing his hair as his cheek pressed onto your belly. 

“You are going to lay a whole clutch. You must have three or four in here,” He marveled at the size of you, and you rolled your eyes.

 “I am telling your mother that you said that,” You responded, making his brows scrunch together.

 “You would not dare.” In the months of your marriage, Queen Alicent had grown quite attached to you. While she loved her son, she had always found him to be rather an intense man. She wasn’t afraid of him, no, but she never thought he would find marriage. Find joy. She thought he would grow old and become a knight or a philosopher, and she was quite pleased with you for bringing out these new parts of him. And so, if she learned of his comments of your size, she would beat him messy with a sock. When you were finally about to burst at the seams, you learned that there were things far more stressful than a wedding day. It was like everyone wanted to see your baby plop out, Alicent walking the room as they propped your legs off. 

“Would you mind leaving the room? This is a rather private matter,” Aemond spoke to his mother in a hushed voice, to which she gently shook her head.

 “And I am to be the grandmother of this child. I am close family, am I not? This is a huge deal for you, my youngest son having his first child!!” She gushed, and you shifted uncomfortably.

 “It may be hours before the baby arrives,” You groaned quietly, pushing the small wooden tools away from your legs. “I do not wish for too many to see my blood and my mess,” Your eyes held a certain fire, and your jaw clenched, and slowly her face filled with an understanding, nodding slowly. You were no Rhaenyra, and you were no enemy. You were her daughter in law, the wife of her youngest son. And so quietly, she left the room, leaving you to the midwives, the maesters, and your husband.

 “Perhaps you would like to leave, My Prince. It is not necessary for the husband to stay,” One of the Maesters spoke, to which you quickly shouted. 

“If you leave me I will ensure that you never get to hold the baby.” You said quickly. 

“I would not dream of it, my dearest,” He responded, coming closer so you could hold his hand. Several hours passed of loud noises and angry shouts, little crescent moons cut into his hand from your grasp. Child after child escaped your womb, until a whole batch of seven was swaddled. The midwives had to call for backup to tend to all the children, each of them around five pounds. It was a concerning miracle, and Aemond’s eye widened as he stared at all the squirming infants.

 “By the seven..” He murmured, quite literally. A child for every god. What a miracle it was. His heart fluttered with fear as he reached out to one of the infants, the only girl, her hand slowly curling around his finger. It was beautiful and scary all at once, like a comet scratching the sky. It was all so very real all of a sudden, his breath catching in his throat as his eye watered.

 “Are they all healthy?” You asked softly, sitting up slowly, your hands curling up. “Yes,” One of your handmaids quickly told you. 

“Small but mighty, they are all warm and crying,” She spoke, wiping sweat from your face. You smiled, taking a deep breath, your eyes slightly puffy as two of the babies were placed on your chest. Two of the boys, one with hair like your own, and the other with a head of snow, little curls still damp from birth. “Look at his little swirly wirlies.” You mumbled, and Aemond chuckled as he leaned over, two of the babies in his own arms. One with gingery Hightower hair, the other with hair like his own. What the litter you had. “How many girls?” You asked softly, reaching to gently take the blankets off, but Aemond answered you before you had to use your energy. 

“Just the one,” He said softly, placing her on your belly. The two of you laid in the bed for hours, covered in babies on every limb and surface. It was a mess, a loud swarm of little coos and crying. But neither of you had ever been happier. Aemond never thought he’d be a good father, but he sure could do his best.

Thank you to everyone who reads!! Feel free to send in requests :)

-BK ♡

[fae-papercuts]

Originally inspired as a response to some posts by @banrionceallach and @marlynnofmany. Polished it up and decided it would make a good start to my lil story blog. Enjoy!

Not Our Usual Passengers

“What do you mean, there’s something wrong with the engines?” Captain El'ek'tak said incredulously. “You’re not an engineer, none of you humans are. You’re not even crew, you’re passengers! How dare you claim there’s something wrong with my vessel!?”

The outraged captain puffed up her air sacks, the feathery amphibian inflating as she stared down the trio of humans who had been travelling with them for the past week. They were not what she had come to expect when transporting humans, not one bit.

They were quiet, for a start. One of them didn’t even speak at all, just made an occasional tuneless humming sound when they were concentrating particularly hard on something. That was usually accompanied by a rocking back and forth that seemed remarkably similar to the Ke'tek autonomic stimulation ritual of focus.

Humans weren’t supposed to do that, were they?

The second of the human party cleared their throat softly - something they always did before speaking, which was quite a rare occurrence. The captain appreciated this, actually. So many humans she had transported interrupted her, or spoke over each other. The disrespect was really quite remarkable - but these humans waited patiently for others to finish, and this particular human’s throat-clearing was used similarly to the way El'ek'tak’s own species rustled their dorsal feathers to indicate their intent to communicate.

“Captain, apologies if we caused any offence,” at this the non-speaking human’s eyes widened in surprise, and they shook their head, clearly agreeing in a profoundly apologetic manner, without words. Their apologetic companion went on, “We can’t be certain there’s something wrong with the ship, we just thought you should know that it sounds wrong.”

The first human spoke again, nodding as they added to their companion’s statement.

“Yes, I am sorry, I didn’t mean to assert certainty when I should have stated a suspicion,” they gave a short smile, then their face quickly fell back into a neutral expression. The captain was a little taken aback by this, as that particular human seemed to very rarely express facially - quite the opposite to what she was used to with humans. It was a little disconcerting, but mostly because she had put a lot of effort into learning about human non-verbal communication.

She blinked, and stared at the three for a long moment. “It sounds wrong?” she repeated back, surprised. She had heard of some particularly sensitive species being able to diagnose certain engine issues from the vibrational frequencies, but usually this required extremely highly trained specialists.

The silent human nodded, and raised a handheld device, tapping something onto its screen for a few moments. The other two humans turned and waited patiently as their friend worked, and the Captain watched with a raised eyebrow (this wasn’t a natural Girurian expression. She had learnt it from her human studies, enjoyed how it felt, and how it could communicate so many things at once).

The human held up the device, and it emitted a gentle, slightly robotic tone, “Engine pitch changed one point five hours ago. Rising quarter octave every seven minutes. Hurt very bad fifty five minutes ago.”

Captain El'ek'tak stared for a moment at the human, her feathers rustling vaguely, as she tried to figure out a response. She looked between all three of them. “You can hear the engines, from your quarters half way across the ship?” she asked incredulously.

The most vocal of the humans spoke, while the throat-clearer nodded and the non-verbal one tapped on their device. “Oh yes,” they said, “we’re all sensitive to sensory input, at least for humans. Not a patch on Alirians sound sensitivity, or Hynoids electromagnetic spectral range, or the scent capabilities of the Teraxids - did you know they can smell a single smoke particulate in a standard atmospheric volume of 500 cubic metres?”

The human with the device gently put a hand on the speaker’s shoulder and smiled softly at their friend - who turned bright red and looked at the floor. “Sorry, xenobiological sensory discrepancies is my special interest right now,” they said, before taking a slight step back. It was at this point that the captain noticed that they were fiddling with a strange cube in their left hand, suddenly speeding up how they manipulated the piece of plastic, changing its configuration rapidly. It was a fascinating display of manual dexterity, and considered asking about it for a moment.

“Engine makes the whole ship vibrate. Can hear it any place,” spoke the little device, for it’s human, interrupting the captain's curiosity. The human’s head rose, making eye contact with El'ek'tak. The human’s gaze was intense - more so than even the other humans the captain had encountered. Eye contact was so rarely a positive thing, across a wide variety of species, but with humans she had met so far it had always been considered important. So the captain had learned to look them in the eyes. It had been a surprise when this group avoided it so much, rarely meeting her gaze for more than a split second. Early in the voyage, they had politely explained that all of them found it hard, and that they hoped she wouldn’t take offence. Frankly, El'ek'tak had been a little relieved, as all the eye contact with others of the odd little species had been quite exhausting.

But right now, the diminutive human who never spoke and could apparently tell when engines changed pitch, was looking into her eyes, and the Captain could practically feel this little traveller’s distress. It made her ankle feathers itch, and she was surprised to find herself understanding quite so much from just a look.

The captain nodded, and broke eye contact. The human looked down again, reverting back to their usual slightly-bowed stance.

“Let me check with engineering,” she said, and turned to the panel by her side, tapping a screen to raise the engine-room. Slipping comfortably into her own language, she greeted the pair of engineering crew on duty, and asked them about the state of the engines, particularly frequency or oscillation-related issues. She gave them the time to check on it, waiting silently, still as a statue, while the humans figeted, or rocked gently side to side. Their motion made her a little uncomfortable, but she had learnt that with these three, continuous movement wasn’t a sign of impatience, as it has been for many previous human passengers.

After a few minutes, the engineers returned to the screen, and exchanged a few explanatory sentences with the Captain, before tapping fingers to their foreheads respectfully. The Captain returned the gesture, and ended the call.

El'ek'tak turned back to the humans, to see that the non-verbal one was already tapping on their device. She couldn’t help but rustle her feathers, wanting to reassure the humans, but not wanting to interrupt this overt preparation for communication. The throat-clearing human raised a finger briefly, a clear request for a moment of time, and the Captain found herself surprised again at how wide a variety of perception these humans could contain within a single species.

“Pitch dropping rapidly. Expect normal range in four minutes. Thank you, captain,” said the device, as the human beamed a broad smile at her for just a brief moment.

El'ek'tak’s feathers rustled briskly, and then she replied. “Yes, that’s alright, thank you for bringing it to our attention,” she said, pausing to gather her wits. “The interphasic array had become slightly misaligned. It wouldn’t have been detected by our sensors for another hour, and then we would have had to pause the engines to manually readjust it. Catching it this early, we could simply vary the input parameters to re-compensate, and bring it back into synchronisation,” she explained, relaying the gratitude of her engineering crew.

The most vocal human flapped their hands back and forth vigorously, grinning with delight. “Oh, thank goodness, I’m so glad we could help, and that the engine noise will at least be consistent. We were worried it would be horrible for the whole trip, and we’d have to reconfigure our ear protection all the time! Genuinely helping out the engineers is so great!”

The captain’s eyes bulged with happiness, quite unable to resist the infectious joy of the gleeful human. “I am glad your trip will be more comfortable, and I will pass on how helpful you were to Central, once we reach our destination.”

The throat-clearing human, who had so consistently noticed the captain’s non-verbal communication, smiled too. They actually chuckled a little as they said, “More neurodiversity stuff to go in The Guide To Interstellar Travel With Humans,” seeming pleasantly amused.

El'ek'tak winced in embarrassment. She had already sent in three amendments to the guide regarding natural variations in human cognitive capabilities and behavioural norms since they had left Alpha Centauri, the two weeks of travel offering surprise after surprise from these passengers. But as far as she knew, the guide wasn’t acknowledged by humans - she didn’t even know the species was aware of the now rather sizeable volume of collected knowledge. It certainly wasn’t available in any human languages that she knew of - after all, what would be the point?

The human’s chuckle became gentler, and the other vocal one of the group raised a hand in an extremely close mimic of the Girurian comforting gesture - as close as could be with the wrong number of digits, anyway. The Captain couldn’t help but relax, the effort the human put into the gesture only adding to the positive impact. They flashed another brief smile as their companion explained, “Don’t worry captain. Most of us don’t bother with it, but I find it fascinating. It has been wonderful seeing the updates since our trip began. Please, the more human neurodivergency is documented, the easier space travel can be for people like us.”

There were a few more polite exchanges, during which the captain learned  that the strange device she had notice was an 'infinity cube,' which was apparently a kind of 'fidget toy.' Then the humans left her ready room; a quiet, somewhat surreal collection of beings who had rather put a lie to the notion that humans were uniformly capable of being brash and difficult to deal with.

But they certainly didn’t do anything to diminish the captain’s view of humanity as a species eternally full of surprises.

[jmscornerlibrary]

Unravelling Umbridge: Part 2

In which plans are made, Luna Lovegood unwittingly gets the better of Snape, and Fred and George Weasley are about to be caught completely off guard.

(Part 1 is on my blog :)

Featuring: Madame Rosmerta, Snape's pink cheeks, two fat nifflers and McGonagall as a cat.

Disclaimer: No pairings! This is a Hogwarts Professors being chaos fic. Everything is nice and proper (as it should be).

Enjoy!

***

The Three Broomsticks were relatively empty during the dark hours of after-student curfew: after ten. The hour was half-past, fires blazed in their places and the inn was as toasty as it could be on a chilly September night. The faint babble of chatter and clinking of glass coming from the kitchen and the bar was like honey in the ears of the two teachers sitting in the corner of the inn, after a whole day of shouting and chaos in the classrooms and common rooms.

Madame Rosmerta smiled as she wove her way across to the two of them, a glass of gillywater and Ogden’s upon her tray.

“Hello, Minerva, Professor Snape,” she said, with a little wink at the latter. “What brings you here on a late Monday evening?”

Severus Snape started at the wink, then averted his eyes from the pretty lady and instead grasped his glass of whisky. Minerva McGonagall spied a very faint tinge of pink upon his cheekbones and barely kept her face under control.

“Nothing much, Rosmerta,” she replied with a faint smile. “We have some marking business to discuss. It’s a lot more peaceful here, away from the students… and I daresay not much can happen when everybody is asleep.”

Severus inclined his head a fraction as a way of contributing to the conversation.

“I won’t interrupt you then,” Rosmerta replied with an eye-roll and smile. “I’d rather not get involved with such dark business.”

“Very wise,” McGonagall replied. “Thank you, dear.”

There was a moment’s pause during which both Heads sipped their drinks and fixed their eyes on the table, as Madame Rosmerta made her way back to the bar. Snape sighed faintly.

“Your cheeks are red,” Minerva said, not looking up. Severus didn’t retort, though he had to clear his throat quite thoroughly after swallowing.

“A lot of things can happen when everybody’s asleep, professor,” he replied stonily once he regained his breath. “Let’s talk quickly and return.”

Minerva put down her glass and folded her hands, placing her head upon them. “Let us do that. You are aware, perhaps, that Dolores is fond of cats?”

Severus’ eyes were directed to her as he swallowed his Ogden’s and stayed there as he put his glass down. 

“Cats.”

McGonagall smiled at his baffled tone and expression - the latter was a very peculiar one, for his eyebrows always formed a low, straight line and his eyes narrowed along with his mouth, so he looked as though he had just swallowed an amphibian - and inclined her head, her glasses flashing peculiarly in the light of the candles above them.

“Indeed. She’s really fond of kittens. Have you been in her office, yet?”

He scoffed. “I am yet to experience that pleasure.”

“Oh, you’ll absolutely love it,” she said, recalling her own disgust after she had set foot in it after an invitation. She had almost been surprised that her clothes hadn’t turned pink from exposure. “But all in good time.”

She pulled out the piece of parchment she had drawn up in her office and splayed it out onto the table. Snape leaned over, studied it, then turned his eyes onto her.

“This is just a print of a cat,” he observed, doubt and severe judgement lining his tone.

“That’s right.”

He studied his older counterpart for a few moments longer, but when she gave no answer, he grimaced. “Would you care to enlighten me, Professor?”

“With pleasure,” McGonagall replied, unmistakably smiling now. “You see, Severus… Dolores is fond of cats.”

“Yes, that we have already established.”

“And I, Professor Snape, am an animagus. More precisely…”

She ran a weathered finger over the rim of her glass, her grey eyes flashing with something which made Severus slightly uncomfortable. He had seen this gleam in the eyes of Gryffindor students fairly often when they were intent on acting up in his lessons; it usually meant they were about to toss things across the classroom into one another’s cauldrons, or something that was equally insipid.

“...I am perfectly capable of turning into a cat at leisure.”

Severus Snape’s face did not change, but as he reached for his whisky, his eyebrows crept upwards onto their highest step. The two Heads stared at one another for one long moment, both their eyes now gleaming, after which Severus put down his glass and inclined his head, slightly begrudgingly.

“I must admit that you, Minerva, are full of surprises.”

“My.” She chuckled. “Was that a compliment?”

“I’m disgusted with myself too.”

“A compliment,” she repeated. “From you?”

Severus looked at her long and hard, then shrugged. “You sound astonished. As though I rarely give out compliments, professor. I will have you know that nobody is as generous in their bestowment as I am.”

Minerva humphed, then rolled the parchment up and carefully set it on fire.

“I should give Slytherin a few points just for the sake of it,” she murmured, tilting the parchment with her wand, as it disintegrated above the table. “Perhaps one or two.”

Snape didn’t look impressed, but something of a smile still lingered on his features.

“I am no longer an adolescent, professor.”

“Nonsense. Unfortunately for you…” McGonagall made a little sound of satisfaction as the rest of the parchment vanished, then turned back to him. “You’ll never be a day over fifteen, for this old crone.”

Severus watched this old crone wriggle on her chair for half a second before emptying her glass, revealing as much excitement as her own stiff person perhaps would ever allow itself to, then returned to his usual stony expression after a moment and scoffed.

“I would hate to be in your place, professor,” he said, imagining short, square, flabby fingers with pink nails before him, magnified from a feline’s perspective. “Though, tell me, what exactly do you plan on doing when you enter that disgusting hellscape of magenta and primrose?” He spat out the last three words. “Are you really going to let that woman cluck and coo at you, perhaps even scratch you behind the ears?”

His lips curled upwards and black eyes began to glint. 

“I suppose that would be quite a poke at your dignity. The Head of Gryffindor in such a precarious position? Hm. I reckon you would be giving her a piece of your mind with your steel claws before you could stop yourself, but then the whole plan would be ruined.”

“You would be right.” McGonagall sniffed, no longer liking this turn of events. “Yet I am willing to put it to the side for the greater good, Severus.”

She sent him a pointed glance from behind her spectacles. He rolled his eyes and finished his drink.

“It is a very good idea,” he admitted, placing the glass down with a thunk. “I assume it is to gather more information than we are aware about. Perhaps she hides some strange letters of correspondence in her desk, or something equally vile.”

“Not my thoughts exactly, but whilst I am there, it would not do any harm to sniff around.”

Minerva placed her glass in the middle of the table, neatly. “However, it will not happen straight away, perhaps not even this week. The first few are always the most chaotic. Let us wait until everybody settles down, back into routine… or as much into routine as it can be, with the changes our subject of discussion has so boldly introduced this new order of things… before disturbing it”

They stood; Severus drew a finger over the surface of the table, then turned to Minerva.

“I expect to be informed as soon as you make your first venture, professor.”

“You will be the first,” she replied, as they made their way out of the inn, “and probably the only person who I will inform about this. Stay sharp. And Severus,” she added, looking back at him. “If you are so interested, why don’t you tell Rosmerta directly, instead of being so pathetically discreet? It’s incensing.”

Snape scoffed and averted his eyes from the white smile flashing from over by the bar, surrounded by a cloud of blonde curls, hastily.

“Don’t make me laugh, professor,” he muttered. “Interested. As if.”

Then he stepped past her and stormed out of the inn with his fists clenched and his dark cloak billowing.

*

And so the wait began, though nobody who observed the Potions Master would have thought that he was waiting for anything, for his masks of indifference were so close to perfect that everybody was convinced that Severus Snape was simply living his best life, or at least as close as it could get to that in present circumstances.

In fact, the Head of Slytherin and the Head of Gryffindor hardly spoke to one another at all that week, though they sat next to one another during meals to oversee the miserable silence in which meals were now spent. Both, however, had the pleasure of not sharing the company of Dolores Umbridge directly, who had taken to sitting next to Dumbledore and bestowing her little observations and ‘hem hems’ onto him. Since Albus was so polite as to never reveal what (as everybody was convinced) he really thought of her presence, he was the one who was suffering at large, running his fingers through his beard, his eyes rather solemn behind his half-moon spectacles though his mouth was always politely smiling and baffling Frog Pinky with stories - which most of the staff had heard before and chuckled at, since they were always told with that in mind - which verged on nonsensical.

Sometimes during these meals, Snape would glance at his colleague, who would return his glance without as much as an inclination of her head, and he would understand that it was yet to happen. He didn’t complain, nor grow more impatient, for he had far too much to do in his own time and his temper was put to the test on many occasions anyway, especially when teaching the fifth years, since Potter and his hilarious camaraderie didn’t have any less nonsense in their heads and twice the usual vigour to bring it into his life this year.

None of that put him on edge in the sense that he dreaded, however. Since Severus operated mainly on logic and common sense, he knew there was no way that anybody but his house rival knew of their conspiracy, and so he had no reason to be - and was not - nervous. Nor was he expecting any sort of confrontation with the amphibious, bureaucracy-hailing blob of magenta which terrorised students with greater ease than he did, regardless of the fact that he was almost double her height. 

Confrontation did not come, but eavesdropping did, though it was entirely unintentional. Severus was returning from the staff room after lunch break when upon turning the corner and a suit of armour to where the DADA office stood, he encountered the despised Miss Bufotes-Roseaus at her office door, deep in conversation with Argus Filch.

“I’m telling you, Mr Filch, it was a very pretty little cat, grey, with little black markings on its face. I’m sure you must have seen it before… you do have such a sweet little creature yourself.”

Severus stopped, then receded back behind the corner, into its shadows, and hid behind the suit of armour. From this position, he was almost impossible to see, for there were few windows on this corridor and his clothes were as black as the shadows sticking to the walls, so logic dictated that he ought to listen and collect as much information as possible for the good of the Slytherin-Gryffindor truce, before making his way back. He watched Filch shaking his balding, old head.

“Can’t say I’ve seen it before, professor, but that wouldn’t be the first time Hogwarts has attracted such creatures. I’ve shooed many away on such an occasion myself… my cat is allergic to others of its species, I’m afraid.”

“Well, please be sure to let this one walk around as it pleases, Mr Filch,” Umbridge said with a nod. “I think it’s taken quite a liking to me, and I’ve come to be fond of it myself.”

Severus hardly restrained himself from snorting aloud, though his lip did twitch at the image brought before him of this woman cooing over a po-faced, stiff-backed Minerva-the-cat. He owed his colleague for making him laugh, he thought - it wasn’t a common occurrence and he prized it. But then the conversation turned, and they began to speak of something different, something which had rather the opposite effect on him.

“Tell me, Mr Filch,” Toadus Pinkus began in her sickening sing-song. “What do you think of the professors here?”

Filch pushed out his lips as he thought. “That depends upon what grounds.”

“Why, teaching, of course!” came the reply. “And their beliefs. Those are important qualities, the most important qualities a professor can have. After all, they unknowingly bestow their views and upbringing upon the ones who they teach, and in a world as this one…”

“I see, I see,” Filch said, frowning as he searched in that knock-hollow head he carried on his dowager-humped shoulders. “I suppose most of them are quite good, Professor Umbridge.”

“Hm. Have you ever partook in any recent Care of Magical Creatures lessons, Mr Filch?”

Snape didn’t quite know why, but his fist tightened into the fold of his robes where was currently holding them. Filch nodded.

“I have, actually. I myself have helped with amassing some creatures Mr Hagrid had gotten ready for the lessons.”

“And are they fully approvable? The lessons?”

Filch hesitated. Severus could almost see his little brain working. Umbridge filled the care-taker in.

“They follow the Ministry curriculum? Does he communicate on an acceptable standard?”

Filch frowned; Severus felt his temper rising up like fiery bile from his lungs and into his head.

“Why, I suppose he does…” Filch scratched his chin. “I’m hardly ever there, really. I couldn’t really tell you, professor. You’ll have to see for yourself.”

“A good idea, Mr Filch.” Severus could see the toad smile, as she adjusted the pink bows stuck to the side of her head. “Your domain is mainly the castle corridors, I assume?”

“That’s right.”

“So you know how the other professors do, I suppose.”

“I’ve seen this and that.”

“What about… hm, the dark, unpleasant-looking man. Severus Snape, I believe his name was. Thin, with a crooked nose, surly expression?”

Snape barely repressed a scoff. They could laugh at him if they wished to, he thought, for he was immune to such abominable slighting and often did some of his own in his head, though his slighting was directed at others too. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about him, Professor Umbridge,” Filch waved his hand with a snort. “The students get on quite alright in his lessons, that’s without a doubt. In fact, I often find myself wishing other teachers would take a leaf out of his book.”

“Hm. Indeed,” Umbridge hummed again. “And the old woman?”

Severus felt the veins in his neck begin to grow hot. He held his breath, expecting more. Filch frowned again. 

“Old woman?”

“Yes. I believe McGonagall was her name.”

“Oh!” Filch nodded, then lowered his voice and flicked his eyes around the corridor nervously. “I cannot complain about Professor McGonagall! She’s taught at Hogwarts long before I walked its halls, professor, and from what I’ve seen she has not a single fault in her teaching. A very good witch. Doesn’t quite believe in punishing students as they ought to be, however. A shame, if you ask me.”

“Indeed,” Umbridge pursed her thick lips. “It seems to me that she’s a little too above herself.”

Ha, Severus thought, not even realising he was running his fingers along the smooth material of his wand in his sleeve, does she now.

Filch merely inclined his head at this, but kept silent.

“As though she owns the place,” Umbridge continued. “Perhaps she fancies herself the Headmistress, one day. Quite a prolonged goal, if that’s the case… she must be almost at the end of her life, and she’s spent most of it here, from what I’ve heard… She doesn’t have long to realise it.”

Severus slowly drew out his wand.

“Why, she has,” Filch said.

“A rather sad one… but, that’s simply how life is. It’s not fair, as we both know, Mr Filch, life. Some people amount to greatness, some people…” She sighed, looking pitifully at probably an invisible McGonagall beside them. “Well, they contribute something to the world, but nothing of significance.”

Severus’ hand didn’t tremble as he lifted it, as he saw black and red, his lungs constricted, fire in his veins, pointing the tip of his wand at Umbridge. Fury only increased precision and potency in his spells.

“Some people are simply good enough to be turned into dust,” he found himself murmuring as he took a step back, readying himself, “and that’s the best thing they can hope to amount to… as do the people around them.”

He was about to flick his wrist; just about to hiss out something uncontrollable in the pit of his mind and step back, when something rustled behind him and he froze, shooting a look over his shoulder, his heart stumbling in its thudding plunge from fury to shock.

Two unnaturally-huge, silvery-blue eyes stared up at him, standing a mere two steps away from where he hid. Severus recognised this student; he would be a fool not to, for she stood out with her crazy ornaments, jewellery and distinct bolt-crazy habits. At present, she was clutching a stack of magazines with a pair of strange goggles on her forehead which pressed down her platinum-blonde locks and she was looking at him without a hint of trepidation or concern in her expression.

“Please carry on, professor,” Luna Lovegood murmured dreamily. “I just wanted to watch.”

Severus would have never admitted it, but he felt a strange shudder roll through him which pulled at his nerves. He was uneasy; only for a few moments, however. 

He stepped out from behind the suit of armour and retreated back around the corner to where Lovegood stood, leaving the gossiping pair at Umbridge’s door, then sucked in a breath, felt his temper restart, shoved his wand up his sleeve and made motion with his head for her to follow him.

When they got a safe distance away, he stopped his march and rounded on her. The only trouble was, now that he had been caught about to hex another colleague, he didn’t quite know what he should shout at her. But he didn’t need to. She spoke first.

“She’s an awful creature, isn’t she, professor?” Luna Lovegood adjusted her grip on the stack of magazines she was holding - most of them were upside down - and blinked once. “To be truthful, I wish you’d had done it. Please don’t worry about me telling anybody. I would have done it myself, if I could.”

Snape unfastened his jaw, still quite at a loss for words. “Would you, now.”

“Yes. She reminds me of a doxy. Quite a large and fat one, but a doxy regardless.”

He paused, actually snorted in amusement, feeling his muscles protest at the unnatural action of grinning, then regained himself and looked at Lovegood long and hard. After a moment, he just flicked his head towards the other end of the corridor and folded his arms.

“Go,” he said. “Before I take any points off for skulking about the castle.”

She nodded, not taking her unblinking eyes off him for a moment, gave him a little bow, then turned and walked off calmly to her destination. 

Snape watched her, perplexed, then remembered what he had heard upstairs and clenched his fists. Nothing he could do now, however, would do anybody any good, so he simply turned on his heel and swept off to his classroom before anything else made him explode again.

*

It was on a grey Thursday afternoon - three days after the incident with Luna Lovegood - that Severus, whilst rubbing at his temples and muttering darkly under his breath, still smelling the smoke which had coated the surface of his classroom after a particular accident, found that his waiting had come to an end. Minerva finally nudged the topic which had bubbled on his mind and reminded him of the days in which he had tossed a dungbomb into Sirius Black’s bag - the latter hadn’t noticed until it went off halfway down the corridor and Severus hadn’t forgotten the surge of delight which had took hold of his chest for two days after and whenever he had recalled it. 

McGonagall matched his step on the way to the staff room so silently and without announcement that he had glanced to his left and ended up flinching when he spotted her black hat, balanced upon her head at its usual degree.

“You look like you’ve swallowed an eel,” the elderly witch observed, as he scowled and grimaced at the way his heart thudded against his will.

“I feel as though I’ve swallowed an eel,” Severus muttered, shooting out a sigh through his nostrils. “And I will go as far as to swallow a poisonous one if you comment on any house points, crying students, my expression, or whatever it is I smell like. I’ve had it up to here with everything today, and I’m unwilling to make any exceptions, whether it be to my elders or betters or whatnot.”

Minerva’s lip twitched. 

“Oh, please,” she said once he had finished grouching. “You must realise that you say that every other day. So many times, in fact, that your threats are no longer imposing. But don’t worry Severus, I wasn’t going to, for I have many more important matters to discuss with you before the day is out.”

They glanced at one another, one gaze amused, one perplexed, then made a synchronised U-turn in the middle of the corridor and began to sweep their way in the opposite direction.

“I won’t keep you waiting,” Minerva said, glancing up at him from behind her steely spectacles. “From what I have observed, there’s nothing we, as teachers, can do.”

Snape graced her with a cool glance.

“You have kept me waiting for two weeks after dragging me to suffer at Rosmerta’s just to tell me that there’s nothing we can do?”

She blinked at him with raised eyebrows, then sighed. 

“I’m sorry you were so excited about it, Severus. It’s just that I don’t think we ought to stoop so low as to jinx or hex her in the corridors. That’s something that first-years do to one another. We are adults.”

Severus remembered his precarious hiding place behind the suit of armour and his murderous thoughts and intentions and said nothing.

“In short, there’s nothing we can do without blowing everything over.”

They passed through the main entrance, out onto the school grounds. It was a clear day, as warm as though it was still remembering summer, and mostly silent leave rustling and the far-away barking of the Game Keeper’s dog. Severus drew his cloak about him out of habit, scowling at the sky as Minerva walked along with him, her eyes darting here and there to detect anything unusual, also out of habit.

“Perhaps it is for the better,” she said, after they had made their way out onto the Quidditch pitches. “We are, after all, adults. Well, at least one of us is.”

Severus harrumphed in response. Minerva’s lip twitched.

“So you also think it is better to call this off?”

“No,” came the short answer, surprising her. “Conspiracy has become the highlight of my life and I refuse to give it up so easily.”

McGonagall’s eyebrows were raised again as she directed a look at him.

“Conspiracy? Nonsense.” She scoffed. “Conspiracy indeed. It is vengeance you want.”

“And I am not alone in wanting it,” he snapped. “You’ve been just as petty as I have in the roseau regard. Perhaps more.”

“Be that as it may, vengeance is something to frown upon.”

“Ha,” he scoffed. “That depends on the circumstances-”

“Wait, hush.”

They stopped. Minerva frowned; Severus turned.

“It looks like somebody is out,” he muttered after a pause, his eyes turned upwards. “I just wonder where…”

They both noticed ‘where’ at the same moment. Both had the wits about them to keep silent, though both also were stunned into looking sillier than both of them would have wanted.

Fred Weasley was leaning out of the top battlement, his wand out, looking very gleeful as he hovered down a niffler down to a particular window, about three stories below him. A few metres to his left, George Weasley was hovering down another; both creatures were strangely calm as they spun on different axis, as though they knew full well what was about to happen and were fully anticipating it.

McGonagall regained her voice, though it came out rather unsteady. “Merlin’s beard.”

Severus had shut his mouth by now and was observing the two devils with interest, his hands folded behind his back.

“It appears that that window,” he murmured after a moment, “is our most esteemed Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher’s.”

His voice made him sound almost impressed and was quite serene, though his counterpart was neither of those things one bit.

“But they’re on the battlements,” she said in a slightly strangled voice. “Merlin’s beard, they’re inches from slipping-!”

She started forward after inhaling a swift breath, probably to speak her mind very thoroughly about what she thought about them being so insipidly dim-witted, but Severus stuck out an arm to stop her. She looked at him as though he was mad. He certainly had a strange glint in his eyes. Even the corners of his mouth were turned up. 

“There’s no way we can do this without blowing it, you say, professor?” 

Minerva’s severely judgemental look grew about ten times denser.

“Heavens above, you are mad.”

“I am not,” he said gently, then pointed above him neatly. “But they most certainly are.”

Minerva looked up just in time to see the two fat nifflers roll through the open window, the Weasley twins shoot one another looks of pure pleasure, rub their hands, and their flaming heads disappear after ducking down. It was followed very closely by a sound as though somebody had smashed a glass jewellery box and a couple of dinner plates onto a stone floor, followed by an indignant meow.

There was a pause in which Snape and McGonagall looked at one another. Then, without a word, they both turned neatly on their heels and made their way back to the castle, with varying degrees of satisfaction and resolution upon their faces.

[themoonweaversden]

Messeges that were found so far: OROBOROUS (spoilers)

This is just to collect all the codes that you can type in in thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com and their effects only (please click images for better quality)

Masterpost with all messeges / codes

Transcript:

"A Friend F arrived late to the lab today, grinning mischievously, with a fish tank sloshing under his arm. He insisted I took inside, and when I did, I found myself face to face with the beaming smile of a curious pale salamander with a pink frilled neck. It looked like a rigatoni with a smiley face, and its little arms wiggled as it drifted in lazy circles. F explained it was an "Axlotl," a rare amphibian that in Aztec myth symbolizes rebirth: you can chop off their arms and they'll grow right mack. (What a trick... to be wounded but leave no scars...)

F said its frills reminded him of my sideburns and he thought it could keep me company the next time he's out. Don't I get lonely passing acient tomes all alone in my study? I bit my tongue. If F knew about my Muse, he's likely be giving me a different gift: a car ride to the insane asylum! I thanked F anyway and put the tank in my office, naming my new pet "Frilliam." As a creature with odd limbs myself, I was tickled by the new guest."

Transcript:

"Goodbye Frilliam My Muse was less enthused bout Frilliam than I. With the portal so close to completion, he strongly felt I should avoid any distractions, no matter how small! He even questioned whether I was taking our mission seriously! Maybe someone else should be his receptacle for devine wisdom---did I know Stephen Hawking's number? In a panic I assured him that I would get rid fo Frilliam at once! Who am I to argue with a devine being of a infinite wisdom... He always knows best... (My Muse's reaction to the axolotl was almost revulsion... like an elephant scared of a mouse)

I released Frilliam into the creek leading to the hot springs behind the lab, hopefully to swim off to a brighter future. As I let him go, he turned back with a look in his eyes of... sympathy? I had a strange bittersweet sense of an opportunity lost, the gears of fate turning... and then he was gone."

Author's Cipher deciphered: CHONKY BOI

[seigephoenix]

Happy Friday! “You’ve got about as much charm as a dead slug.”

Thank you for the prompt!! Another one for @dadrunkwriting! This one is for Elaina Cousland x Nathaniel Howe

Content Warning: mild flirting, no amphibians were harmed in the story Length: ~700 words

Elaina looked down at the ruined kite and her cheeks puffed out in annoyance.  Another one down the drain and she worked hard on this one.  She looked over at the training field and saw Nathaniel sticking his tongue out at her.  “That!” Elaina stepped towards the training field when she felt a hand at her shoulder.  “Papa.”

“I know you’re feeling mad and frustrated pup, but you mustn’t lose your temper.”  Elaina opened her mouth to protest but Bryce shook his head.  “You must approach your problems with a sense of dignity and respect.  Not everything can be solved with your fists.”  Elaina clamped her mouth shut and turned away to pout.  “It’ll be alright pup.  Fergus can help you make another one.”

“Okay Papa.”  Elaina had a plan formed in her mind.  Instead of searching out Fergus, she went to the small decorative pond near the gate.  To anyone else she looked like she was looking at the water.  Bryce informed the knights that Elaina had been having a tiff with Nathaniel.  The knights understood and chuckled as they saw their small lady pouting.  Elaina wasn’t pouting but she wouldn’t reveal her plan to anyone.

She snuck into Nathaniel’s room, ensuring no one saw her.  She deposited her “catch” into his bed before making herself scarce.  Elaina went to the library and read a book for the afternoon, knowing the tutor would be her alibi as would the knights who saw her in the courtyard.  No one would suspect that she was the one behind it.

Present Day

“It was you!?” Nathaniel asked incredulously as Elaina laughed at the memory.  “Maker’s breath, I was terrified of frogs for years after that.”  He crossed his arms as Elaina wiped at the tears on her cheeks from laughing so hard.

“Perhaps if you hadn’t ruined so many of my kites with your arrows, I’d have taken a different route.” Elaina grinned as he leaned against the tree at their camp.  “Papa told me that not every solution could be resolved with violence.”

“No but leaving behind a phobia is perfectly fine.”  Elaina leaned against him as he pouted and she grinned up at him.

“Did you forget who put that snake in my room?”  He refused to look at her as she slipped around him to look at his face.  “Or the spiders in my hair?”  She saw the trembling on his lips and he gave him a sarcastic smile.

“You paid me back for each and every one of those incidents if you will recall.  After the spider one, you were the reason I lost my front tooth early.”  Elaina huffed at him.

“Not on purpose!  It wasn’t my fault you were standing that closely when I was flailing about.”  He leaned down to smirk at her.  “I lost my dessert privileges for a week for that.”

“Only a week?”

“Papa recognized it was an accident.”  The gleam in her eyes told him that it hadn’t been an accident.  He sighed and leaned back.

“We were right shits to each other as kids.”  Elaina laughed as she agreed.

“I believe it was when we were twelve?  You’d just put mud down the front of my dress when I told you that you had all the charm of a slug.”  Nathaniel chuckled.

“You also gave me your infamous right hook for my efforts.”  Elaina propped her hands on her hips as she stared at him.  “What?  Fergus warned us about it.”

“Of course he would, he got it the most of all of you.  Being the little sister was such a pain.” Elaina grinned at him.  He leaned in until their noses were touching.

“Then we grew up.”  Heat shot up her spine and she took a careful step back.  Nathaniel laughed at the wariness in those blue eyes.  He always thought her eyes were beautiful, even as a child.  She was so expressive that he couldn’t help but be captivated by then, even if he’d been a pest as a child.  “Scared Warden-Commander?”

“Hardly.”  He laughed at the petulant tone before she marched over to Sigrun to discuss their plan for going into the Deep Roads.  He’d get her to warm up to him eventually.

[not-noelle]

ik i said no ships but

so i had an english assignment to write a story with randomly generated topics and I got a frog love story so I decided to make a yandere tsuyu x deku story (I do not ship them I just needed a love interest lol)

summary: i have the coolest english teacher for letting me write this (he's also super into anime lol)

CW- Murder, violence, gore, unhealthy mindsets, yandereeeee

Amphibians Are Cold-Blooded Creatures

(This content contains graphic descriptions, gore, and extreme violence. Viewers discretion is advised…😀) 

Uraraka screamed in agonizing pain. “Tsuyu, please! Spare me!” she tried. Tsu looked at Uraraka, tilted her head slightly and said, “No, no. I don’t think I will. Ribbit. He’s mine.”. She swiftly pulled out her knife, and within a second, the other end was plunged into her chest. Blood pooling on not only Uraraka but on Tsu as well. 

“Uraraka, my love, would you like to study w-” Deku stopped midway. His heart thumped in his chest as he saw Uraraka’s lifeless body. The door slammed shut behind him but before he could even scream, he felt a hand cover his mouth. “Quiet, Deku,” she said, in a surprisingly calm tone. He could do nothing but whimper in fear. “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine, ribbit.” she reassured him, her cold, lifeless eyes staring straight ahead. Deku tried desperately to get the upper hand. Once he had regained his composure he lifted his arm in an attempt to hit her. “This isn’t like you, Tsu! Please! L- Let go of me!” he cried while trying to wriggle his way out of her grip. “It’ll be just you and me. No one can come between our relationship. We’ll be together. Together forever.” she was seemingly distracted as her voice trailed off at the end. Deku saw this as an opportunity to escape. He freed himself from her grip and ran.

He ran to Bakugo screaming for help. “WHAT DO YOU WANT, NERD?!” he cried. “Ts- Tsu, she- she-” “SPIT IT OUT, DAMN NERD!” After about another two more minutes of complete blabbering, Bakugo gave up. “I HAVE THINGS TO DO, DAMMIT!”. With tears running down his face,  Deku fell to the ground, Nobody would believe him. He was helpless.

Now Tsu had been watching this from afar. “He has to be… disposed of.“ she thought. While pondering this she was interrupted by the sight of Deku. Her one and only love. Completely broken. She walked towards his trembling body, hugging him. Deku’s heart stopped, and his eyes widened. He tried to scream, move, anything! Anything but be in her embrace. After sensing his body tense up, she looked down at him. She gave him a sweet smile and a reassuring pat on the back. Deku stumbled as he got up, he ran as fast as he could. “Now, time for a friendly chat with Bakugo…Ribbit…”.

Bakugo was studying, as he always did at this time. Tsu knew that. She had been up all night trying to create a perfect, foolproof plan. Now her choice of weapon might seem odd at first, after all, who tries to murder someone with a fire extinguisher? But her plan was simple. She walked in and she just, well, I think you get the idea. With one swift swing, he was dead. Or as close to death as one could be. “L-LISTEN HERE, DAMN EXTRA,” he hissed, “HOW DARE YOU TRY TO A-ATTACK ME!”. Unlike Uraraka, Bakugo put up quite the fight. But it wasn’t nearly enough to overpower Tsu. All it took was another swing. 

Tsu looked down at the bloody and broken body before her. A smile crept up her face. She enjoyed it. Oh, she enjoyed every second of it. The adrenaline, the feeling of being powerful and doing something unapologetically evil for the sake of love! She was going to be the love of Deku’s life. She’d stop at nothing to get her way. Tsu let out a blood-curdling laugh. There was no going back from here.

A few weeks had passed since the incidents. The police had chopped it up to an act of violence and with a lack of evidence, there was really no telling who it could've been. Tsu flew under the radar once again. Nobody knew. Even Deku, who had witnessed it firsthand, convinced himself that he was just going mad. Now Mina had been comforting Deku throughout this, and they grew close. Tsu despised this. “HOW DARE SHE INTERFERE WITH OUR RELATIONSHIP?!”. Tsu desperately wanted, no NEEDED to do this. She had grown accustomed to murder, her hands just itching to attack. Her blood lust wouldn’t end here.

[dzmoot]

Boxin'Bee Lowell, the famous yellowjacket boxer. He had since retired from the boxing ring and opened a honey making shop with his wife, Bearnita. He was kind enough to speak with me for a few minutes, having been good friends with Snail Speedster and I was hopeful, through his connections with the warriors, he would know what became of the elusive Amphibislash.

Well, for starters, none of the Wonder Warriors were really close with Slash. He was always the curmudgeon outcast, always going off on his own and annoying the hell out of everyone, especially his brothers. Rumor has it that he's a frequent patron of the Bubbly Beer Bulldog going by the name Travis Toadson.

And my brain nearly bursted out of my skull like that of Froggenstein. I couldn't believe it. Why didn't I put two and two together sooner. The hobo looking amphibian with a beard scruffier than a Wookiee's backside, the gruff guzzler of moonrock ale who I passed by many times when I was at the bar, the one who often passed out at the counter and was swiftly thrown out on his buttocks by Sudsy, he was Amphibislash! I quickly levitated to the bar and wouldn't you know it, he was there! As usual, an array of empty or near empty glass mugs stood before him and Sudsy was already jumping down his throat about paying his tab.

Now, I'm not gonna say it again, Travis! You either give me what's owed or I'm making frog legs for dinner!

Travis rose from his seat and looked like he was going to implant his metal claws into Sudsy's nose. Before he could grab the bartender, I floated forward and gave Sudsy some money.

Here, I'll take care of Mr. Toadson here. I think I'll join him actually. Make mine extra foamy!

As Sudsy got to work, I turned to Travis who looked as if he was eating the dead flies that were entangled in his beard.

So what'you want, salamander?

I hated being called a salamander.

Well, it's Lotty the Axolotl to you, Amphibislash!

Travis took one of the flies he picked out of his beard and flicked it off the counter.

You'gotta lotta nerve callin'me that, sister!

I smiled. I figured that through all that unkempt hair and dried up scales was a soft, kind hearted teddy bear.

I'outta cut off your tail and pickle it!

It took a bit for Travis to calm down but I was finally able to simmer him and we were able to talk like normal people.

Just tell me about your teammates, whatever happened to them? Don't you ever wonder what happened to them, to your brothers?

Amphibislash took a big gulp of his beer.

No, I neverask myself what'appened to them because, well, I know what'appened to them!

My eyes lit up.

You do?!?

And then, he told me the whole story.

They went to stop that popcorn menace when they'ere intercepted by some weird guy. He looked like an overgrown, pimple faced toddler if youask me. He claimed he was some sort of magical being or something and he could give'em all magical powersor something like that. My brothers and Peebee all gotover their heads thinking this guy whom they just met'mind you was going to give them magical powers, but I was the onlyone that could see him for the lying vermin he truly was. Wouldn'tyouknowit, that goon turned the warriors into.....into....

He guzzled an entire glass of moonrock ale in what seemed like seconds, slamming the glass mug on the table as he let out a belch.

What? What did he turned them into?

Travis turned to face me, little red veins forming in his eyes.

Action.........figures!

I stood flabbergasted. It was the most farfetched thing I had ever heard. Some of the greatest heroes on this side of the moon reduced to plastic? He had to be joking.

Action figures?

Travis took another gulp.

Am I speakin'french? Yes, and that'swhat they get fornot listening to me. If they'd just listened to me for once in their lives, notofthis would've everhappened!

I went from flabbergasted to overly embittered in a matter of seconds.

That's not nice to say! Why didn't you go help them, try to get them back to their normal selves. They were your brothers, your family!

It was then that Travis got up and made his way to the door.

Answer me!

Before he said anything, he opened the door and out he went. I followed him to his shabby little house nearby, all cobbled together and looking like a construction paper house held together with tape. Spying on him through the semi-cracked window, he sat down on his dirty, ripped up couch with a spring out the back of it and held a portrait of he and his brothers tightly in his hands. He ran his long fingers across the dusty glass and I could almost swear a single tear trickled out his eye. Then he caught wind of me spying on him and tried to shoo me away.

Just tell me why you never saved the others.

Travis let me in and offered me a fly salad sandwich as he poured himself a mug of pure black moon coffee.

As'you probably foundout already, I had a rocky relationship with my brothers. Steiny mostly groaned and turned away when I was near and Incredi, well, he let his position as leaderofthefrogs get to his head sometimes.

Travis set the portrait on the end table nearby.

When the Wonder Warriors started breakingapart and this pimple faced guy showedup out of the blue, we had a big fight and I vowed never to speak to my brothers again. When I came to mysenses and realized I shouldn't hold grudges, I went to help them but it was too late. The pimple faced guy did his dirty deed and offhewent, never to be seen or heard of again. I'm just afraid that if I did getthem back, they might resent me, hold a grudge against me like I did them, maybe disownme. I just couldn't live with myself knowing I drove them away for good.

It was then that I gave the froggy a little pep talk.

I'm sure your brothers would forgive you, Slash and they'd sure be glad you rescued the whole team from that weird, pimple faced guy. You should have just given them a chance. I'm sure they'd give you another chance. You said it yourself, you shouldn't hold grudges.

Travis apologized and for the first time, showed me the metal claws. I stood utterly gobsmacked by the silver blades. I could even see my reflection in them.

The onlything I can tell you about this weird guy is that he was a Magituun and he had an obsession with the Wonder Warriors.

I stood and pondered for what seemed like a year or two, but then I put two and two together again. When I was a Pigpimples student years ago before I dropped out to become a journalist, there was a strange student in Dr. Funny's class who would sit in the back of the classroom and doodle the heroes everyday. He even had stickers of the hero's faces on his backpack. He had more craters on his face than the moon itself! One day, I heard him talking to another student about making action figures of the Wonder Warriors and keep them with him forever....and ever.

Aristotle Writh!

I've heard rumors of Aristotle's whereabouts over the years but nothing could have prepared us for what we found. Aristotle's mother was none other than Mera McWinglewad, my old piano teacher and she revealed that Aristotle was living in her basement since God knows when and never left, preferring to stay down there all day and play with his favorite "toys". After I joined her in a nice cup of darjeeling, she let me into the house and I floated down the crudely uneven cellar stairs where I was immediately entrance with all the Wonder Warrior posters and drawings that adorned the walls. Then, as if I were hit in the face with a moldy onion, an unpleasant smell filled my nostrils. It was the smell of the abnormally large foot I found protruding at the bottom of the stairs.

Why if it ain't my old friend Lotsy!

I groaned.

It's actually Lotty and we were never friends.

Aristotle shrugged and continued playing with his toys. Wouldn't you know it, the action figures he was playing with were of the Wonder Warriors! Could it be?!

Say, Aristotle....

He interrupted.

I prefer the title Supreme Overlord Aristotle. Plain old Aristotle won't do for me anymore.

I groaned yet again. I hadn't seen Aristotle in a long time and now, I realized why.

Ok, Supreme Overlord.

Aristotle rose to his feet, probably for the first time all day.

ARISTOTLE! IT'S SUPREME OVERLORD ARISTOTLE. DON'T FORGET THE ARISTOTLE PART!

I chuckled a bit.

But you said Aristotle was plain and old.

He looked like he was ready to devour me for dinner with his plaque ridden teeth.

IT STILL SOUNDS GOOD THOUGH AT THE END OF SUPREME OVERLORD! THEY GO GOOD TOGETHER LIKE...LIKE

And he picked up his Peebee action figure, gazing on it like it was his pride and joy or something.

PEANUT BUTTER AND JELLY!

As he looked down upon his plastic glory, I decided to pick one of the figures up myself. It was Snail Speedster and by the look on his face, he looked as though he was in pain, as if he was frozen in place, his joints held together with screws, forced to be played with over and over again against his will. It was then that I heard it, a small but mighty

Help....me...

I held Speedster closer to my ear

Help...

Suddenly, Aristotle pushed me away as he ceased Snail Speedster in his grubby mitts.

Keep your hands off my precious gastropod! If you chip the paint or break a limb, I'm suing!

I quickly rose.

It is true. You turned the Wonder Warriors into...toys!

Aristotle grabbed me by the tail.

You don't understand. I never had a lot of friends, still don't. The Wonder Warriors are the only ones who I could look up to, the only ones I could count on. They would never disappoint me. They would always be there for me!

I quickly finagled my way out of Aristotle's grasp.

That doesn't make it okay to do what you did! You never gave anyone a chance to be your friend! How would you like it if someone turned you into an action figure and played with you against your will!

A maniacal grin formed on the Supreme Overlord's face.

I'd be honored!

As Aristotle got closer and closer, ready to cease me by the tail yet again, I heard a slishing and slashing coming from the nearby wall. I knew in a moment when I heard and seen those silver claws...

TRAVIS!

NO, IT'S AMPHIBISLASH!

Without a second thought or with no thoughts for that matter, Slash started mowing down the shelves, slicing and dicing Aristotle's pristine, mint condition collectables like it was a hibachi grill.

STOP! YOU'RE RUINING MY PRECIOUS COLLECTIBLES! YOU'RE RUINING THE PAINT JOBS!

Soon after, Slash approached Aristotle with his claws.

Okay, bub! Tellme where my companions are orI'll still myforks in your face and make TOSSEDZITSALAD!

Aristotle looked scared as a deer in the headlights but grew a backbone as he laughed and pushed Slash's claws out of his face.

I ain't afraid of you, Slash! To be honest, you were always my favorite of the Wonder Warriors...WHICH IS WHY I'LL BE OVER THE MOON TO ADD YOU TO MY COLLECTION!

To the surprise of both of us, Aristotle pulled out a wand, a crudely taped together wand with some glue in fact and started chanting a spell.

Hasbrocus, Mattelicus, MCFARLENICUS, ZAPP!!!!

A blue spell emerged from the tip of the broken wand and to my complete horror, Slash was hit by it. Almost immediately, his body started shrinking, his joints started turning to plastic, his face froze in place, in a painful grimace just like the others and Aristotle quickly snatched him in his hand.

Hehehehehe!!!! Now I have the complete set.

Just then, he looked over at me.

Aristotle, WHAT DID YOU DO!?!?

He pulled out his wand again.

SUPREME OVERLORD ARISTOTLE! I have a complete set now and it looks like I've have the special edition, chatty Lotsy the Axolotl to go along with them! PREPARE TO BE PLASTICISED!

And as he pointed his wand at me and started chanting the spell, I quickly picked up a piece of debris with my tail and chucked it at the menace, sending him plummeting to the ground and breaking his wand into four pieces. Because his spell was interrupted and not properly pronounced, it backfired on Aristotle and he started blowing up like a balloon, bigger and bigger, fatter and fatter until he was hovering off the ground and touching the ceiling. He was so full of air that his voice became high pitched and his open mouth looked like that of a beluga whale.

HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP THE SUPREME OVERLORD!

Shortly therefore, his oversized pimples exploded, covering the entire room with pus. I quickly made my way out of the house as Ms. McWinglewad made her way to the basement to give Aristotle the long overdue belt beating he deserved. In my hands were all the Wonder Warriors, still action figures. How was I going to get them back to their regular forms?

I thought and thought until my brain was sore but I remembered my days at Pigpimples, particular a Transfiguration course I took. In that class, we learned how to transform spiders into plastic rings and back again, you know, the ones you'd sometimes get while trick or treating. I thought and thought again about the reverse spell, it was sort of like a poem. I REMEMBER!

RETURNICUS TO NORMALICUS PRONTOICUS NOW

PLASTICKY NO RIGHTFORME FLESH AND BLOOD

KAPOW!

The Wonder Warriors were back! They were so overjoyed to be tall again, they decided to make Lowell and I honorary members of their team. Peebee even offered me the position of leader of the entire team, but I was just a neophyte to the whole superhero thing and politely declined (maybe someday though). Lowell filled them in on everything that happened while they were away, and Patriomoth was quick to go see his loved ones whom he hadn't seen in ages. POW! Panda returned to the Bamboo Showman and made sure that no criminal overlords like Pawsta never rose to power again. Snail Speedster and Lowell became a boxing tag team and Reggie even invented a salt free alternative to Lowell's honey, because you know how those gastropods are around sodium!

As for the Frog brothers, they are closer than ever. Slash did indeed make up with Incredi and Steiny and started taking anger management classes. Steiny is learning to speak for the first time and Incredi is training me to become an amphibininja.

Yes, to say that the Wonder Warriors were making a comeback would be an understatement, but their big moment was on the horizon. Since Zappy, Kruonch, Hampire, Siobhan and Yam Yam were off in their space cruising sleigh, that left the warriors to take on the big monster that just so happened to be squirming about in the heart of Inkwell Village! It was the first big brawl I got in with the team and the first time I got to wear my superhero costume. I needed a battle cry like that of POW! Panda, but what would I come up with. After awhile, the answer was quite obvious!

TOONABUNGA!

[popnchips]

The interview.

I am early. I want to show them that I want this. Am I too eager? Will I be showing them that I am desperate? (I am) I can't worry about this. Five minutes left before the agreed upon time. Should I open Words with friends? No. I do not want to be caught with my pants down. I will wait, alone, (not alone, there is always me there to tell me what a loser I am) waiting.

Seconds crawl by as eons and I try to not hear me. I notice that I am sweating, my armpits greasy, (are the stains soaking through my shirt?) my palms moist. I blow on my hands to evaporate the moisture, taking care to ensure that they are open and have air flow, to prevent more perspiration.

A door opens and a woman exits the room. She approaches me saying politely "David?".

I nod, not trusting my vocal cords to work around the large amphibian in my throat.

" Nice to meet you", with an extended hand, limp at the wrist. I briefly make contact with the proffered extremity, highly conscious of the moisture on my own.

"You as well" I croak. Or was it the frog?

"Please, come this way", said with a vague smile, and I momentarily saw her as a woman, not unattractive. Hair done in that awful haircut favored by businesswomen everywhere, asymmetrical, one side hanging lower than the other. Grey skirt over shapely legs, stilettos, white blouse. I catch a whiff of a scent as she walks, vaguely fruity, perhaps a shampoo. I remember seeing the "scent free" sign on the way in.

I follow her into the room from whence she came.

A meeting room, like most others, a long table with that odd wider in the middle, narrow at the ends shape. Leather chairs on wheels. Inside there are two others, one in a well-worn suit, expensive at the time of purchase, but looking a little frayed today. The Boss. The other, blue-collar type, golf shirt and chinos, loafers. My (hopefully) immediate supervisor.

The woman waves at the chairs opposite of the seated men and asks me to sit. She sits herself on the other side of the table, seeming to cozy up to the suited man. Office politics.

There is paper shuffled, day planners opened. I do the same and withdraw a pen from my jacket pocket. The Boss says well, let us begin.

And we begin...

The job interview is possibly the worst thing that we have to endure, as members of society. You are put in a position of having to defend yourself in the face of a three-way attack, designed to passively-aggressively whittle away your confidence and strip you to your most basic components, naked and afraid.

I had one today, and I feel like I failed at it, just like they wanted me to.

Time will tell...

[allywritesforfun]

{Pretty Sick} Karl Jacobs x Reader

request

pronouns: not mentioned

word count: 871

tw: body image, mentions of throwing up

masterlist

You woke up panting, struggling to catch your breath. You have just had the strangest dream about snakes, frogs, and all these different types of amphibians trying to make you their leader? The second you went to wipe your forehead, you knew what caused the strange dream. You were sick, gross, and ugly, the ‘get away from me’, type of sick.

You didn't get sick often, you did your best not to because of the way it affected your body. The worst thing about it was the hot flashes and never being able to maintain a solid body temperature. When you tried to cool off, you got shivers, but if you covered up, it felt like you were on fire.

You looked over your shoulder, Karl was still sound asleep despite your tossing and turning. You didn't want to get him sick too, so you tried getting up. The second you shifted your weight to your feet, you started to feel dizzy.

That was another thing you hated, the dizzy spells. You felt like out of every human on Earth, you had the worst dizzy spells. It always looked like something out of a video game: you were stuttering around, knocking into ledges to keep stable, and you swear your vision turned into some type filter with all the swirls and blurs.

You decided to stop at the bathroom first to try to clean off some of the sweat. The light nearly was enough to make you fall over and go back to bed by the brightness. You moaned and hovered over the sink. You looked terrible; your hair was in snarls, some snot peaking out of your nose, and your tank top was all wrinkled and riding up your back. This was not a good look..

You ran some cold water and put your whole head under it. At this point you might’ve well taken a shower, but you didn't think you had the strength to stand for that long.

You snapped your head up at the sound of a knock at the door. You banged your head against the faucet and groaned.

“Hey, y/n, it's me, Karl. Can I come in?”

You tried to reply, but it came out as mumbles. You wanted to say no. You looked absolutely disgusting and you didn't want Karl to see you like this. You’ve been sick around him before, but never this badly. Karl assumed you said yes and lightly pushed the door open.

“Hey,” He smiled at you and waved.

You shook your head, “Keep outside, I don't wanna get you sick. And shut the door please.”

Karl took a step back, “Are you sure? I don't mind getting sick, it's an excuse to stay at home with you.”

“No, please close the door, I look really gross and disgusting right now. It's better if you just stay in the bedroom, away from me.”

“Now I’m coming in,” Karl walked in and stood behind you. “Sit down with me.”

He put his hand behind your back and helped you sit on the ground. It felt better than you expected. You scooted over to the bathtub and leaned against it, looking away from Karl.

“How long have you been up cutie?” He asked.

“I don't look cute right now,” You told him. “I am covered in sweat and water, have all of these liquids leaking from my nose, and so much sleep in my eyes that you would think it's infected.”

Karl tried to put his arm around you, which you just pushed off, “I meant what I said. Even when you’re sick you’re still the cutest person on Earth. You never answered my question.”

You still didn't look at him, “I’ve been up for a couple minutes, not long. You should go back to bed.”

“Mhm,” Karl shook his head, “I’ll go back to bed once you get some sickness drugs in you and we get you cleaned up.” Karl stood up and bent down in front of you. There was nowhere to look but back at him, “There’s my beautiful y/n.”

You sighed and just nodded to get him to stop pandering you. He moved your hair out of your face and kissed your forehead, “Come on, let’s get up.”

You succumbed to his ways and put your arms up. He placed them over his shoulders and grabbed you by the waist. You really didn't want to get him sick, but you had no choice at this point. He placed you on the edge of the toilet and pulled your shirt down, “Do you want me to brush your hair?”

You shook your head, you already felt bad enough, brushing your hair would only add pain.

“Alrighty pretty, let's get you feeling better.”

Karl picked you back up and put you back in bed. He grabbed a spare sheet from the closet and placed it over you. He came back a couple minutes later with some crackers, medicine, and a water bottle. You did your best to eat, but you were scared of throwing up. Karl stayed with you the rest of night, and somehow he never got sick. You eventually fell asleep watching some of your friends stream.

[pedanticat-scratching-post]

Hallway Pining

Sashanne Drabble

The hallways of Saint James High School were crowded with the bustling bodies of students as dozens of conversations all intermingle to create one incoherent ramble as they discussed their plans for the weekend. While some students complained about how their parents would be grounding them due to getting a low grade on their tests or others were looking forward to attending a party, Sasha's own group of friends squealed about seeing the live performance of Titan Bones later that night.

"I still can't believe we managed to get tickets for them!" Taylor exclaimed.

Wade stretched out his arm and groaned. "After all the work we put into buying the tickets, I'm glad we did. My arms are still killing me from lifting all of Mr. Johnson's boxes. Why does he have so many damn books?"

"Well at least all you had to do was lift heavy books," Amber replied. "I spent so many nights babysitting kids. I'm telling you, some of those kids are complete monsters!"

Sasha chuckled at her friend's gripes. "Look, I know you guys would have rather spent your time literally doing anything else, but it was the only way to get the tickets. Isn't that worth a few days of busywork?"

Her friends mumbled "I suppose so," with it making Sasha chuckle some more. While she may have spent her free time doing work to afford the tickets such as mowing yards, she found that kind of work to be a breeze compared to all the hardcore training she did while she was in Amphibia (with her still maintaining that training even years later).

Though while her friends went back to discussing their excitement about the concerts, an all too familiar laugh diverted Sasha's attention from the conversation to the source of the laugh. Sure enough, the source of the laugh was Anne's from across the hall. She was currently hanging with some of her friends from the herpetologist's group she formed when the two had first entered high school. The group was surprisingly popular, and not just cause Anne's celebrity status from Frogvasion still being somewhat relevant at the time. Apparently invading robot frogs led by a giant salamander ended up sparking people's interest in amphibians. She's seen the group do a variety of activities for the past two years such as volunteering at the aquarium, hosting lectures about different types of amphibians at the library, and even holding bake sales to fund trips (they ended up becoming more successful once Anne stopped trying to sell people on pastries filled with bugs).

Yet while Anne seem to be close with all of the members, the one she seemed to be the closest with was a girl named Jasmine, as evident by how she had her arm around Anne's shoulder with her not seeming to mind at all. Even outside of the club, she always saw the two hanging out together whether it be hanging out at the mall or seeing Anne post pics of the two of them eating at Thai Go online. As far as she was aware, the two weren't dating yet she still felt flickers of anger. It's not like she was mad at Jasmine. After all, even though she never talked to her, she seemed like a nice enough person. And it's not like she couldn't ask Anne if she wanted to hang out. Yet despite knowing that, as she saw the two continue to joke around, she felt her face slowly turn into a frown.

"Hello, earth to Sasha?" Amber asked. "Are you still with us?"

Eyes snapping away from Anne and Jasmine, she turned back to her friends who were staring at her in concern. Not wanting to worry them, she put on her best fake smile. The exact same fake smile she has put on for years in order to not just others, but also herself. "Yeah, I'm all good. Just ended up daydreaming about Titan Bones is all."

[imaginedxlan]

loverboy (neville longbottom)

a/n: i’ve said it once and i’ll say it again, i am a SIMP for neville longbottom. also yall...  one away from 1k, how’d that happen? you guys rock my socks and i love you the absolutely most! sorry this one is kind of short i just liked the concept.

you’ve been friends with neville longbottom since first year. becoming comfortable with the shy boy and his frog over the years, you began calling him a nickname that makes him wish you would see him as anything other than your best friend.

warnings: zero baby just pure fluff

neville doesn’t open up to just anyone. after years of being shut down in every conversation, left out of nearly every house activity, he’s built a wall to protect himself from the people of hogwarts who constantly make him feel less than. you’re one of the lucky ones. you’ve seen beyond his high walls, he’s opened up to you about his parents, his insecurities and eventually pulled him out of his shell to talk about girls with you.

the nickname started when he told you about his small crush on luna lovegood. he seemed so entranced by her, he kissed the ground he walked on. once you caught on to his pining, you’ve called him loverboy ever since. it’s not to be mean or tease him, you actually admired how much he devoted his time to thinking about her.

what you didn’t know, however, is that it was never luna lovegood he was talking about. when he would describe his feelings for luna her name was only a placeholder for yours. he’d loved you since the moment he laid eyes on you, thinking even your crooked teeth, frizzy haired eleven year old self was the most beautiful creature he’d ever see.

“good morning loverboy,” you call sweetly as you sit next to the dark haired boy in potions class. you never found this class particularly interesting, but being able to sit next to neville made it at least slightly more fun. his heart aches at the nickname, trying to conceal the blush that is creeping on his cheeks. “sleep well?”

“hardly,” he replies, still keeping up his façade. “harry talks in his sleep all through the night. keeps me and trevor awake for hours.”

you smile at the mention of his beloved frog. “oh my dear trevor! how is my favorite amphibian?”

neville can’t contain his smile or his heart that hammering in his chest. you’re the only person who’s ever shown interest in the things he likes, the things he goes on and on about for hours. you’ve never once stopped him from going off on a tangent about his mimbulus mimbletonia or how he’s lost trevor for the tenth time that week. you’ve never rolled your eyes when he comes to sit with you in the library. you’ve never shied away from sitting next to him in herbology though many students find his chiming in rather annoying.

“he’s good,” he replies, trying to stop himself from gazing at you for too long. “i think he misses you.”

you laugh at his response, you really do love that frog. “you better make sure i’m not replaced as trevor’s favorite girl when you finally make a move on luna,” you tease but his heart drops. he knows it’s only a joke but he can’t imagine loving anyone other than you. “if i’m losing one of my loverboys i don’t think my heart could take losing the other as well.”

except you could never lose him. he can’t think of a time when his heart would belong to anyone else. he couldn’t say the same for you. as much as he wants to be around you and knows the nickname isn’t meant to make him sad, it only reminds him of the fact that he’ll never truly be your loverboy. the time will come when you go for a weasley or maybe even that ravenclaw boy you’ve talked about in defends against the dark arts with you and neville isn’t quite sure his heart will survive it.

as professor snape opened his book at the front of the class, the class quieted down. veritaserum. you had heard about the potion, mostly from the weasley twins slipping it in their younger brother’s drink once or twice, but you’d never used it. neville begins to fidget nervously beside you, and you think you know why. privacy has always been very important to the boy and something forcing him to talk about his deepest darkest fears or worse, his parents, is probably eating away at him.

you’re wrong. he’s so nervous because he’s afraid he’ll slip up if he takes it and someone will accidentally ask him about you. he won’t be able to keep his secret anymore.

“s’alright nev,” you whisper to him, taking his hand in yours and squeezing it slightly. an act of intended comfort made him nauseous. “i won’t let anyone pull any secrets from my loverboy, promise.”

you give him a sweet smile which only makes his heart race more. you’re so beautiful, even without the potion he could’ve let that thought slip to you if he wasn’t too careful. as class goes on, he thanks his lucky stars he isn’t chosen for the demonstration. watching you brew the potion to perfection surely would have made it difficult for him to keep back all the feelings he has for you.

later in the evening, however, he did not get so lucky. the twins somehow convinced seamus and dean to slip a few drops of the potion they’d learned to make that morning into neville’s pumpkin juice at dinner. you didn’t notice or surely you would have taken it from them and scolded them for picking on the boy, but you were to engrossed in a conversation with hermione to catch it. neville almost immediately realizes what’s happened when seamus begins asking him questions.

“how your feeling, longbottom?”

“tired, honestly kind of sweaty, really think i need a shower after dinner,” he says before he can stop himself, he smacks his hand to him mouth and his cheeks go red. dean and seamus burst out laughing making all of you turn to the three of them.

“sweaty? why would you possibly be sweaty neville?” dean continues the interrogation.

“been nervous all day, especially in potions. couldn’t get my mind off the stupid veritaserum and if anyone would ask me about y/n,” neville replies with his cheeks turning more red by the minute. you now had your full attention in the boy and he couldn’t stop the word vomit spilling from his lips. “you should have seen her, she brewed the potion perfectly. she’s so smart. godric and beautiful, i-”

you immediately stop him by smacking your own hand to his mouth. “merlin’s sake what did the two of you do?”

dean and seamus have a cheeky grin spread across their lips. “fred and george gave us veritaserum to put in his juice, didn’t think this would happen.”

without a second thought you pull your best friend from the table and out of the great hall to spare him of any more embarrassment he would have to endure. neville follows you blindly, grateful that you didn’t sit there and start laughing at him. when you get to the common room it’s empty, everyone being at dinner. you pull him to sit on the couch in front of the fireplace, he couldn’t help but admire how beautiful you look in the glowing flame.

“are you okay?” you ask, pulling your hand from his to look into his eyes. “i’m sorry they did that nev, you didn’t deserve that.”

“i’m more than okay,” he replies with a lazy grin on his face before switching back to his stone cold face full of nerves. “i like it when we’re by ourselves, wish it happened more often.”

“what do you mean, loverboy?”

“i wish you wouldn’t call me that,” he snaps but immediately regrets his tone. “not if you don’t mean it.”

“what are you on about? i mean it.”

“not in the way i want you to mean it...”

you’re trying to wrap you’re mind around what’s happening. sure you and neville have always been close and you compliment eachother here and there but this is different. you don’t want to take advantage of him, not when he’ll tell you everything you want to know while you can sit back and enjoy the show. you swiftly get up and tell him you’ll be right back. he sits on the couch confused as he watches you run out of the room. you make it to the great hall and everyone is looking at you as if you’ve gotten answers out of him that they’d want to know but you ignore him. you lift the tainted cup that neville had drank out of just minutes ago and take a swig.

“y/n!” hermione shrieks and you swallow the liquid. “what do you think you’re doing!”

“getting answers.” you say simply before running out of the room. you don’t feel any different, maybe it hadn’t worked. once you reach the common room again neville is exactly where you left him. “back.”

“what’d you do?”

“i drank the veritserum too,” you tell him and his eyes go wide. “this is going to be a fair conversation.”

neville swallows the lump in his throat at the thought of the two of you being completely honest with each other. he’s partly afraid the truth he’s about to hear is that you only want to be his friend, or that him confessing his feeling for you will only push you away. but there’s another part of him that’s hopeful, you took the veritaserum so this would be “fair,” that has to mean something.

“what were you doing to say when i stopped you earlier?” you ask him. “you said ‘i’ but i stopped you.”

he tries his best to push down the answer but it keeps making its way up his throat. “i was going to say i couldn’t keep my eyes off you all class.”

blush creeps onto your cheeks but you’re not certain why. you noticed him looking at you in potions but you assumed he was trying to understand how to make the potion.

“you’re turn.”

he thinks for a while, unsure of what he should ask you. “do you like matthew, the boy you talk about in ravenclaw, like like him?”

“i like him as a friend, nothing else,” you say back, your heart beginning to race. “do you like luna?”

“i never did, i like someone else.” he answers. you wish it was your turn again, you want to ask him who, part of you knows he’s going to say you given what you’ve learned this evening. you reach out to hold his hand and his touch makes your skin burn. “have you ever thought of us as more than friends?”

you want to say yes, you know it the answer he wants to hear, but it’s not the truth. you can’t lie to him even if you wanted to. before this moment, you only thought of him as a friend. not because you dislike him or think he’s unattractive, it’s just all he’s ever been to you. you take a deep breath and turn your eyes down to the floor.

“honestly, no,” you say back, neville swears he can hear his heart break within him rib cage. his heart burns at your response. he’s gotten his answer. “when did you start to think of me as more than a friend.”

he never came out and said he had feelings for you, but you’ve connected the dots. everything he’s answered, all the questions he’s asked points to him looking at you as more than just his friend. you’re not sure how to feel about it.

“first year, the minute you spoke to me i couldn’t help but think you were the most beautiful girl i’d ever seen, i still do, ” his words make your heart burst. you turn your head to meet his eyes again. they’re burning into you’re gaze. “what is it about me that’s made you only think of me as a friend, do you think i’m ugly?”

“godric no!” you say a bit too quickly for your own liking. “i never thought of you that way because that’s all we ever were neville, friends. i noticed how handsome you were last year, the long hair suited you, but i think you look nice any way you are. i had a dream about you at the christmas last year, i think that’s when i noticed how handsome you were. i guess i just never entertained the thought because you never gave me the impression you wanted anything more than this.”

he feels less shattered, less like you just ripped his heart out with your bare hands. hearing that you think he’s handsome sent butterflies to stomach. he’s quiet and so are you.

“do you want to stop?”

“no, i have another question,” he replies, pulling his hands from yours and backing away from you. you miss his touch already. maybe you did like him a little more than you thought. he braces himself for what’s about to come out of his mouth, for your reaction to what’s about to come out of his mouth. “if i asked to kiss you would you say no?”

“no.” you tell him quietly, if you thought your heart couldn’t pound any faster, it did. it feels like it’s about to jump from your chest. “do you want to kiss me?”

“merlin yes,” he almost whispers. he doesn’t move from his spot, eyes avoiding yours at all costs. always being the braver of the two of you, you take matters into your own hands. you pull yourself closer to him and rest your hand upon his cheek, forcing him to make eye contact with you again. you suck in a breath, the closest the two of you had ever been. “i’ve never kissed anyone before.”

“i know.”

you lean forward only a few centimeters until your lips are barely touching. you hesitate only because you know after this moment you can’t go back to being just friends again, this is going to change everything. even so, there’s like a magnetic pull between you too, you’re craving the feeling of his lips against yours.

while still deep in your thought and hesitations, your eyes drilled shut as you try and decide what to do, you feel his lips press against yours and you melt. it’s better than either of you could have imagined. while neville had be dreaming of this moment for six years, you had only just begun thinking about him in this way minutes ago. you place your free hand on the side of his neck and he places his on the small of your back, pulling you closer into him. You move yourself so that your sat on top of his thighs, attempting to expel any space between the two of you. his hands rest on your hips just before you pull away from him to catch your breath. his eyes flicker between yours, looking for an answer to what you’re feeling.

“i’m sorry,” he says sheepishly, thinking the worst. “do you want to stop? we can pretend this never happened.”

“i never want to stop.”

you connect your lips with his again, slinging your arms around his neck to feel the closeness again. you know he’s never done anything like this before, he’s probably nervous out of his mind, so you attempt to ease his worries by guiding his actions. in just the few minutes you’ve spent with your lips on his, you’ve because obsessed with the feeling. you can hear how heavily he’s breathing as his hand moves from your side to be entangled in your hair. you can’t help but smile, this moment is pure bliss.

you eventually pull away from each other, you decide it’s best to keep this night to just his first kiss. you lean forward and plant a soft kiss to the side of his neck before burying your face in the soft skin. eventually his breath evens out, and he moves his arms to wrap around you.

“what happens now?” he asks, hoping the veritaserum can give him some sort of clear view into your brain.

“i don’t know,” you reply, it’s honest, you have no idea what happens from here on out. “what do you want to happen?”

“i want to kiss you like that a million more times,” he breathes out which makes you laugh into his neck. looks like ther veritaserum hasn’t worn off just yet. “can we just sit here for a minute so we don’t have to think about what’s gonna come?”

“you read my mind, loverboy.”

[shortprince-cos]

Patton's Normal And Totally Not Angsty Birthday

Summary: Patton was fully expecting to spend his birthday with his stuffed animals and pictures instead of actual people, but his famILY had other secret plans.

Warnings: Crying, being alone for an extended period of time, angst, slight innuendo. Tell me if I need to add anything else!

Pairings: Platonic DRLAMP (all)

{Masterlist}

~~~~~

Patton was fully expecting to spend his birthday with his stuffed animals and pictures instead of actual people.

It wasn't a far-fetched idea, considering what had happened earlier last year. Everyone was still on their toes from the...fight.

It wasn't a fight though! It was more like a...big disagreement. That kind of maybe split everyone apart and left Patton alone...

But it was fine! Everyone just needed some alone time! Even if it had been awhile - a long while - since the incident. They just needed to think about things, and when they were ready, Patton would apologize and they would hopefully accept!

Hopefully...

Patton turned in his bed again, trying to sleep for the umpteenth time that night.

He sighed and eventually sat up, glancing at the clock. It said it was 4:16 in the morning, now it was technically January fifteenth.

Happy birthday to him.

Patton wiped the tears off his face and put on his glasses and his cat hoodie. Well, if it was his birthday, he might as well have a cupcake and make a wish. He'd probably need it, to be fully honest.

Patton meandered through the hallway, glancing at everyone's different colored doors. Everyone was probably asleep.

He remembers when it used to be just three doors in the hallway. Just Morality, Creativity, and Logic. Was it simpler then? Or were they just living in ignorance?

"No one knows you better than yourself, am I right, Tony?"

"I know big words too! Ssssssaxophone-"

"Who knows what'll happen if you don't adopt them, and they need a good home!"

"Anything he darn well pleases!"

...Maybe he was the only one not taking things seriously. They say ignorance is...better to live in, and Patton was basically swimming in it before his wake up call.

"We need actual contributions from you, now and then."

Is that why this happened? Maybe he's been ignorant of all the actual dilemmas this entire time. That's how everything went wrong! He didn't just suddenly not know what to do, he never knew what to do! He just hid it with jokes and puns and silly commentary to 'lighten the mood', but really he was just a distraction from their actual problems.

Patton hugged himself as he stood in the hallway, surrounded by the doors of his friends. Well, if they still wanted to be his friend.

Patton glanced at the dark purple door in the hall, cringing at the memories that came with it.

"Now Anxiety, if you don't want to participate, you can just sit this one out."

"Awww you poor little anxious baby!"

"And what about Anxiety, he always seems to get you down."

Patton swiped his tears away, hurriedly making his way down the hall to the staircase.

Janus didn't have a door here yet; he said he'd rather stay with the others in the hidden side of the mindscape.

Probably because of how awful they all were to him.

"Deceit, standing in the spot of one of my four best friends."

"Um, you're in my spot."

"Because Thomas gave his word, but you wouldn't know anything about words, would'ja mister?"

"I may be amphibian, but I can't say that I am fibbin'!"

God, they were so terrible to him. No wonder he doesn't like being around any of them.

Patton's hands shook as he gripped the banister at the top of the stairs, holding in his silent sobs.

All of this is his fault. He caused the rift in his famILY.

Suddenly he heard voices from downstairs. Wasn't everyone in bed? It was four in the morning, who would be up right now?

Patton wiped the tears off his face for the umpteenth time and took deep breaths, trying to steady himself.

He stalked down the top stairs slowly, trying to listen in onto what the voice was saying.

"Listen," A voice whispered. "I'm just pointing out all the possibilities."

"More like all the negabilities, seeing how all of them are negative." Another snarked.

"Just- does he even wanna see us? We basically ghosted him for months. We didn't even include him on the Nico situation. Why didn't we do that, he's the heart! He's like, the most important side for that!"

Oh. They were talking about him.

Patton debated leaving, going down there, or keep on listening before another voice spoke up.

"I doubt he would not wish to see us. If anything, I believe he would like to talk about what happened."

"Logan, we're talking about Patton here. If we talk, he'll just say he's fine when he's clearly not fine."

"That's not true." One obviously lied.

So all four of them were downstairs talking about him. Wait, isn't there supposed to be five-

"Hi Potty-cakes!" Remus suddenly shouted from behind him.

Patton shrieked in surprise, before almost tumbling down the stairs before someone caught him.

"Pat! Are you okay?!" Virgil said, slowly helping Patton to his feet.

"Y-Yeah, I'm perfect!" He said, plastering his Patton-ted fake smile.

Virgil squinted at him. "Pat, have you been crying?"

Ah. Guess the smile didn't work.

Patton noticed that everyone was crowded around him, including Janus, which meant that lying was out of the question.

"Uh- kinda?" Another smile.

Someone swore under their breath as Logan spoke up. "Patton, what are you doing awake at this hour? Don't you normally get up at seven?"

Patton stood up straightly instead of leaning on Virgil. "Oh, I just woke up and couldn't fall back asleep! What're you guys...?" Patton started as he finally looked around the room, noticing the balloons, streamers, and a banner that they had used for every birthday Patton had had.

"...doing?" He finished.

"Uh-" Roman started. "Well uh- we were kind of...surprising you with a birthday party?" He shrugged nervously.

Patton stood shocked for a moment. They were throwing him a surprise birthday party? Why? Why would they do that- weren't they mad at him? There's no way they would just suddenly not be mad at him! What was happening?!

"Pat, what's wrong?" Janus suddenly asked, putting a gloved hand on Patton's shoulder.

"I'm fine, why?" He answered on instinct.

"Padre, you're crying." Roman explained.

Patton touched his cheek, and sure enough, he was crying. "O-Oh. I guess I am."

Another hand gripped his wrist. "Pop-star, are you okay?" Virgil asked with concern and sincerity in his voice.

Patton immediately started sobbing. "No, no I'm not."

Some tentacles wrapped around him from behind - probably Remus - as a bunch of arms started surrounding him as well, securely trapping him in a hug.

Patton kept crying into someone's shoulder as multiple people kept whispering sweet nothings in his ear.

Eventually, Patton had stopped crying, just enjoying the feeling of a hug - a hug! - surrounding him.

Then, they started pulling away, leaving Patton with traces of warmth left over.

"Patton, are you alright?" Logan asked with concern in his eyes.

Patton rubbed at his eyes again and sniffled. "Y-Yeah. I'm just overwhelmed, I guess. I kinda expected to spend today alone..."

Everyone made a noise of either surprise or concern.

"Patton I..." Roman started, looking at the ground in guilt. "I didn't mean to make you feel alone, I just-" He sighed. "I talked to De-Janus, and he helped me realize that it wasn't like you were trying to make me the bad guy, you were just trying to tell me that Janus wasn't one either. So, I planned a party to apologize to you, and well, I guess the surprise is ruined."

Patton immediately hugged Roman the minute he stopped talking. Roman chuckled, but Patton could hear the tears in his voice.

"I'm- I'm so sorry I-"

"Shh, don't be." Roman comforted. "We all forgive you."

After another minute of hugging, Logan cleared his throat.

"While this moment is very touching and much needed, it is currently almost five in the morning, so I suggest we all take a nap before we get into the festivities."

Everyone made noises of agreement, when Patton interrupted.

"Um- could we-?" Patton started before cutting himself off.

"What's up, Pat?" Virgil asked.

"Uh- I-I just thought that maybe we could..."

"Cuddle on the couch?" Janus finished with a smirk on his face.

Patton nodded with blush on his face.

"Ooo sexy~"

"Remus, I swear to all things princely-" Roman started before the twins started arguing and Logan had to break them up before they could brawl in the living room.

Eventually, everyone on the was cuddled up on the couch and snuggling in one way or another, and Patton couldn't be more content.

~~~~~

Whoo! I finished on time!!!!!!!! I'm so proud of myself for writing this in one day! Though, I think it's a bit rushed, I forgive myself for that tho because it was written in one day lol

Ty for reading! I really enjoyed writing Patton angst again lol!

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Ask to be added or removed!

Reblogs are appreciated!💖

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: Star Wars Wednesday

Just like last week, spoilers for The Mandalorian season two

"I can't believe you talked me into this."

Cara leaned back in the pilot's seat, wearing that same smirk she always had. The one that said "I knew you'd do it". The one that said "Learn to have a little fun!" The one that said "Admit it, you're a pushover, Din Djarin."

"I can't believe you didn't think of this before!" Cara teased.

[[MORE]]

"The kid is training, and training is school, right? Kid needs school supplies. Styluses. Lunch box. Things like that."

Din looked over his shoulder at the small bundle on the floor behind him. "Maybe..." he murmured.

Cara frowned. "Hey, quit." There was no bite in her words. There never was when they talked about Grogu: she knew better than most that some subjects weren't to be taken lightly. "He's gonna want to see you. That kid adores you."

"He...he belongs with the Jedi," Din said, if only to convince himself not to snatch up his boy and never stop running. "Not the..."

He couldn't bring himself to say "Not the Mandalorians".

Cara adjusted the coordinates minutely, then swiveled sideways in her seat. She leaned forward, elbows on her thighs, and raised her eyebrows at the morose Mandalorian.

"So...there have never been any Mandalorian Jedi? Ever?"

The "no" was already on Din's lips before the weight of the Darksaber on his hip called it into question. Could such a thing exist? One who followed both the Creed of the Mandalorians and whatever Creed the Jedi lived by?

Could Grogu be one?

And was it selfish of him to hope the child might be?

They landed on Yavin IV with little difficulty. Din hadn't expected them to be that close by! It certainly made a difference to know that Grogu wouldn't be far from Mandalore after all.

They were directed by several New Republic officers to an upper level of what Cara said was an ancient temple, surrounded by jungle. It was warm and humid, but not unpleasantly so. The croaking of amphibian creatures in the trees made Din smile under his helmet.

"Hope none of those are poisonous," he remarked, gesturing toward the trees.

The man escorting them -- Din had seen his face on a bounty puck once, he was sure of it -- grimaced. "To most animals here, they are. To certain tridactyl toddlers though..."

Cara snorted. "How many did he eat?"

The man groaned. "Four. Five if you count the one he tried to give to my kid."

Han smirked despite himself when the Mandalorian behind him immediately said, "Urgh. I'm sorry, he does that. Is yours training here too?"

"Not training, no." Han led them towards an open courtyard like place. "We decided not to start that until he's five. Little bandit can't even sit up on his own yet. Luke just babysits when Leia and I both have to work."

"Hey Han! Over here!" The familiar voice of the Jedi echoed from a shady corner beside a tree.

Han. Han Solo! That's where Din had seen his face before! Well. Probably for the best that Boba was busy on Tatooine, then. Solo and friends had taken his fellow Mandalorian's honoring of his contract...rather personally. And Fett had the scars to prove it. For all that he thought the man would probably say something to the effect of "it was just business", Din still didn't think putting him in the same room as Han Kriffing Solo was a good idea.

Any further contemplation of men with prices on their heads crumbled into silence when Din heard a familiar squeal. He dropped to his knees on instinct, just in time to catch Grogu as he tripped on the hem of his little blue robe and fell headfirst into Din's hands.

"Grogu!" Din gasped around the lump in his throat.

"Buir!" Grogu laughed from upside down, though it really sounded more like "Bweeoo!"

Quickly, Din turned the toddler right side up and examined him for injuries. He didn't look hurt, but he did have a large smudge of dirt across his cheek, and dirty handprints all over his clothes. The mythosaur pendant had gotten a little tangled around the zipper on the front, and Din realized that Grogu's robe was just a human infant's sleep sack that someone had cut a hole for feet in.

Luke Skywalker sat on the grass with a three or four month old human baby in his lap. Din guessed that must have been Solo's child. Grogu was pointing at him and babbling incoherently. Din nodded seriously.

"Yes, yes he is a baby."

"Bee bee bee. Batu."

"No, not like the tadpole babies at all, you're right."

He had no idea if Grogu was actually talking about the tadpole child he'd bonded with, but he'd made similar sounds then, hadn't he?

"Grogu."

Grogu's head snapped back to face Din. His ears perked up, and his eyes shone. That threatened to undo Din there and then, but somehow he kept his composure.

"I brought you something to help you while you learn."

Immediately the toddler started looking around. "Buir? Buir?"

Cara held up the bundle Din had purchased from a Lurmen outfitters shop. A tiny red satchel, perfect for smaller species, hung from her fingertips. As soon as Grogu saw the yellow and brown frog pattern on the front pocket, he hooted with delight and reached for it.

"Hang on, short stuff," Cara laughed, "There's more!" She opened the bag and pulled out a pack of short, chunky, styluses in many colors. "Your dad thought you'd like coloring."

Luke laughed softly. "Oh he certainly seems to like his colors. Guess why we had to improvise new clothes?"

Gently bouncing his son in his arms, oblivious to Solo's bewildered look, Din asked the Jedi the question he almost didn't want the answer to.

"What...what happened to his romper?"

Luke winced. "Um."

Behind them, Han started laughing.

"Okay, so-" Luke ran a hand through his hair. "Part of being a Jedi is accepting when you make mistakes and learning from them. Case in point, Force strong toddlers and open jars of finger paint actually...aren't the great idea I'd thought they were..."

Almost completely inaudibly he added, "andalittlebitgotinhiseye,pleasedon'tbemad!"

Grogu flailed his arms up and then down with enthusiasm, trying to show his Buir exactly what he'd done with the paint.

"Yeah," the Manda'lor sighed, perfectly content, "That sounds like my kid."

[lxvestxned]

y/n is massively afraid of toads, but tries to at least touch trevor for the first time with the graceful help of her best friend neville. while also in complete denial about the feelings they are starting to have for neville. fluff + gender neutral reader! 2500 words.

side note: please don’t make fun of me if i got toad-logic wrong in this one — the fear is real bro. LMAO.

Neville talks about Trevor nearly the same way one might talk about a younger brother. Mildly annoying, but also so very important to the point that he could not even remember his life before him.

Trevor couldn’t be a better gardening pal for him, save for when he disappears while Neville is deepest in concentration with his plants. He always entertains Neville’s miniature hat creations, sitting still and proper while Neville has a good laugh.

I could not be happier about his connection to Trevor. I haven’t brought it up to him yet, but Trevor seemed to be an important figure of worthiness to Neville. I also had to appreciate that Neville had the company of a pet in his quiet house on breaks.

I only wish I would have wised up and got on better with the toad.

Amphibians and reptiles are a bit of a sore spot. To put it gently, they are a thing of nightmares to touch or even to look at. Trevor’s skin was bumpy, coarse, and loose looking. Eyes bulging, dark, and unblinkingly horrifying.

Was his skin rough? Was he heavy? Was he slimy? Oh god, and what would his bones feels like? Could Neville feel him breathing in his hands?

My stomach swam to my throat with every thought. However, the guilt from my fear of Neville’s beloved pet made me feel much worse.

I can’t help recalling from years ago, the way I once jumped a foot away from Neville’s attempt at a lighthearted pat on my shoulder. Simply because I was hyper aware that he had held Trevor in that same hand not even five seconds before.

Neville recoiled too, shock washing off his features only while I frantically showered him in embarrassed apologies. He then promptly washed his hands for a full two minutes to make me feel better. The memory was one of those that frequently replayed in my head when I laid in bed trying my best to sleep over the wailing thoughts of regret.

In place of physical adoration for the toad, I bombarded Neville with questions about him any time they struck me. Each was gratefully met with a patient and particularly-amused response from the proud toad owner.

“Trevor is bumpy and all, he sort of feels like really extreme goose pimples— no, acne.” Neville spoke while lovingly stroking his pointer finger down Trevor’s back in the Gryffindor common room.

“He isn’t heavy at all actually. One time I had him in my hand, looked away for a moment, and when I looked back he was gone. I didn’t even realize.” He whispered to me, just as Professor Binns rambled back toward their side of the classroom.

“Trevor’s not slimy!” He said whilst playfully pointing the prongs of his accusatory fork at me, “you’re thinking of frogs! And even then, I’ve read that they only look it and don’t feel it.”

“I don’t know what his bones feel like?!” Neville laughed incredulously, “seriously, where do you come up with these questions?”

Turned out my latest inquiry was the one that lead me to my doom.

The clump of red, yellow, green, and blue students travelled up the snow-white hill, returning from a full and chilly Magical Creatures lesson. I walked alongside Neville on the trek, body automatically crawling with shivers on the thought of toads once again.

“When you’re holding him, can you feel him breathing?”

Neville let out a huff of laughter between pants for air against the hill’s incline. “I suppose so, I mostly notice his heart beat normally.”

“His heartbeat?!” My gloved hands squeezed into tight fists to resist my overreactive imagination from taking over. The ghost of a toad pumping it’s lungs and beating it’s heart in my palms was enough to make me visibly cringe— which I was determined to suppress at all costs.

Hermione, who was a bit ahead of us, slowed to join our pace, “Yes, Y/N, toads have hearts too, y’know.” She said.

“You’re joking!” I announced sarcastically.

“Why don’t you just hold Trevor once, then you’ll have all the answers you need?” Hermione laughed.

“I’ve asked her and she doesn’t want to.” Neville said.

“I do want to!” I sighed, “I just can’t.”

“Yeah, she said she can’t.” Neville reiterated.

“And why not?” If Hermione was anything, she was a problem solver. And I was suddenly determined to prove that I did, in fact, have a plan of action.

“I’m scared,” I said, “but, I figured if I could gather enough information about what exactly to expect... then, maybe I could do it eventually.”

Neville finally lifted his gaze away from the trail at our feet to smile at me. His smile was open-mouthed almost like he had words on the tip of his tongue ready to fall out. But, Hermione spoke up again.

“Honestly, it’s not as bad as you might think. I think you may even be over thinking all of this. Holding Trevor is almost like... like a leather pouch.”

I muttered, “sure, a living, breathing, beloved leather pouch.”

“You should probably try touching him first before you start carrying him around,” Hermione said right as we reached the plateau level with the archway back into castle walls.

Neville and I hung by the archway like we usually do, recapturing our breaths through the rigid air. I did not expect Hermione to stand with us, allowing Ron and Harry to be carried away with the crowd entering the hall.

Her determination loomed over the silence and I felt the need to accept that solution. After all, Hermione was bound to have another seven loaded up and ready to be dispensed. And not to mention, Neville’s eyes had an unwavering sort of gleam in them that I could not quite put a finger on.

I was suddenly and weirdly diagonal with one palm against the brick arch, the other on my hip, and the toe of my boot scuffing the snow. “I could probably do that,” I had to wonder whether I was at all convincing.

“I can help you,” Neville peered into my soul, to which I decided the gleam was, at the least, highly influential.

I gulped, “yeah, I can do it.”

— — —

There Trevor was, 15 centimeters of pure, mind-numbing terror.

I felt like I had only blinked since we were standing out in the pure white snow. Except, Hermione, Neville, and I were very much in the middle of the Gryffindor common room. Comfortable in my casual change of clothes after dinner, but also filled to the brim with dread as the reds of the room edged in my vision.

“Are you ready?” Hermione smiled as encouragingly as she could.

I finally tore my eyes away from the toad perched on the couch’s arm that Neville was half-blocking with his body.

“Yeah, of course! It’s not that serious!” I gave my best snarky smirk, as if I hadn’t just gnawed a small tear into my bottom lip.

I didn’t want to refuse Hermione the opportunity to be a part of her own solution to the problem that wasn’t hers. But, then again, I wish I did only for the sake of privacy.

Hermione’s presence was a bit heavy to endure. She conjured a very deep desire to prove myself a good friend to Neville with her eyes alone. Which meant false bravery was all I could manage to show at the moment. True feelings buried not-so-deep below that crumbling surface.

“You can do it, Y/N, don’t think.” Hermione relayed that unhelpful bit of information atleast a hundred times within the span of the last fifteen minutes. Although, I did entertain it every time.

With the sudden distraction of Neville turning to pick up his pet, I managed to squeeze a “Thank you, Hermione! I got it!” through the corner of my lips.

Unfortunately, every statement of bravery was like a mating call when among Gryffindors. I could feel sets of interested eyes triple upon our little gathering without even lifting my head. In fact, I was almost positive that Dean had made his way from across the room to lean over the couch cushions from behind.

I wasn’t ready for Neville to stand from his spot on the couch, nor was I ready for him settle down in a kneel in front of me. I could’ve forgotten Trevor entirely with the way I was focused in on Neville’s face. He hadn’t looked one bit nervous, which was a rare and reassuring sight. I had to smile at the thought that, for once, I was the one emitting enough nervous energy for the both of us.

He was pretty quiet up until that point, so his voice made my breath quicken as finality closed in around me. “I’m going to help you, alright?”

That was it, no going back. My face felt as though it was glowing redder than the room. The fluttering in my stomach clashed awfully against the dread that was already shacked up there. I clenched my jaw tight, trying desperately for a look of certainty as I nodded.

Trevor sat comfortably still between Neville’s palms, face nearly pressed into Neville’s chest. I almost wanted to joke that it looked like I was about to be proposed to with the arse of a toad, but Neville brought some humor of his own.

A mischievous grin crept over his lips first, “and you can wash your hands right after.”

I grinned despite the huff of sorrowful air that escaped me. The horrid memory filled me with a brand new sense of urgency to right my wrongs. I held him by his shoulders, “I’m really, really, really sorry about that!”

Neville almost bent forward in hearty laughter, until he realized that he shouldn’t bring Trevor any closer. “No, I know, I know! I was trying to lighten the air.” He shook his head gently, “Come on now.”

I scooted forward in my seat to plant my feet flat on the carpet, fists already balled up tight. “Yeah, come on now,” I echoed, perfectly-thoughtless, as Hermione instructed.

“I’m going to hold him right here, and he’s not going to move. All you have to do is put your fingertips on mine, okay?” Neville instructed so gently that I was ironically totally overwhelmed.

I took the look around the room that I was avoiding, and sure enough, Gryffindors were gawking from every angle. Hermione nodded and Dean was smiling extra wide.

I couldn’t find words. Instead a single shaky hand of mine unwound itself and reached forward. It very unhelpfully occurred to me at that second that I had never even touched Neville’s hands before. And you know what, it shouldn’t be strange to admit your best friend has nice hands. Because he does. Not helpful information, but definitely information.

I was almost worried that my aim was so shaky that I would miss his nails altogether and jab Trevor.

But before I knew it, I was touching the hand that was touching Trevor. Which, of course, reintroduced the smile to my face when reminded of Neville’s joke.

“Yes! Now, I’m just going to pet Trevor, and you can keep your fingers on mine until you’re ready, alright?”

I was too nervous to move my gaze from Trevor any more, but I presumed from the cheer in Neville’s voice that he was smiling hard.

He slowly moved his fingertips to the top of Trevor’s head, and I had to press harder to keep from slipping astray. Then, Neville did exactly as he explained.

My upper lip began to furl up as my imagination ran buck wild in my mind. The worst of all textures invaded my senses and made me want to cringe out of existence. My eyes squinted at the seemingly violent breathing and heart beating that bumped against his warty surface. Our fingertips stroked down his back so many times that my movements felt robotic.

It was automatic enough to break my stare away from it when Neville called my name, “are you breathing?”

I blinked a few times, and let in a gasp of air that I hadn’t even realized I needed. “Apparently, not.” I laughed, surprised by my hushed volume.

“Merlin, so much suspense for this?” a Gryffindor near the windows was met with a brief glare from Neville, but he concentrated on me.

“Why don’t you take a big breath, and then try putting your fingers in front of mine?”

I loosened up my face, as I took a deep breath in. The long breath out allowed my other hand to unwind as well. I parted my teeth, while my fingertips eased on to the very tip of his nails. “Okay,” I tried another deep, thoughtless breath.

“You can do it, Y/N.” He whispered.

I blinded myself with my unoccupied hand.

Trevor felt gravelly.

Like extreme acne.

His breathing was not nearly as noticeable as the racing heart, beating at the top of his body.

He had a spine.

Noticeable only because the several wobbly scribbles of a line that I tried to draw was not nearly as straight as the subtle ridge at the center of his back.

I eased the hand off of my eyes. Sure to embarrass myself as the sting of tears felt closer than ever. When I looked between us, the room felt a little bit bigger. Almost like we weren’t surrounded by onlookers awaiting my first true reaction.

Our knees were resting so carelessly against each others. Neville’s hand was no longer stroking Trevor with me, it was upright exactly the way someone would hold a ring box ajar. His face was flushed pink, a dopey smile on full display.

My heart floated up and out of my body, drifting high above my head like a balloon. A smile of my own lit up my entire face, while I cupped my palm on Trevor’s back like Neville did minutes before.

Dean and Hermione congratulated me on my fierce battle versus a backwards toad.

But then Trevor made an awful noise that made me jump to attention.

“Okay, Trevor’s done for... the rest of the year.” Neville hurriedly placed the toad on the table behind him.

When he turned to face me, the tiny bit of nerves that infinitely plagued his features returned while he was very caught up between continuing to kneel or standing up.

I hopped to my feet, helping Neville choose to straighten himself up as well.

“That was amazing, Y/N!”

“You’re, you’re— amazing, Nev!” I must have forgotten to resume thinking because I trapped him in a hug. His arms pressed against his sides and all.

After a burst of his nervous laughter rattled through the air, he tried to hug me in return. When only able to bend at his elbows, he hovered his hands over the edges of my back for a moment. Until finally he placed his hands even softer than the touch I just shared with Trevor.

Dean and Hermione swapped looks then, and I had to shut my eyes to pretend I didn’t notice.

[justanotherteentitansblog]

Poolside bbraeweek21 day 2

(So this fic is actually based on my headcannons for BB and Rae’s Future kids, Phoenix and Mavis. Phoenix is 6 in this and Mavis is about 1 ½ I have another fic during this week that features them but background info Phoenix has her dad’s powers and Mavis has her moms but Mavis has cuffs on her wrists that block them because a toddler with emotion based powers is a recipe for disaster. That should be everything you need to know before going in.) 

“MOOOOOM!” Phoenix complained as her mother was trying to get sunscreen everywhere her bathing suit didn’t cover. 

Raven continued despite her older daughter's protests, “Oh, I’m so sorry I don’t want you to get sunburnt. I’m the worst mom in the world, they should throw me in jail.” 

“Can I even get sunburnt?” 

Raven paused, that was actually a good question. She’d have to ask her husband about that one later. “Do you really wanna find out?” 

“I wanna go play in the pool!” 

“And you will, if you can be patient for five minutes while I get the rest of this on you.” 

Phoenix huffed but complied as her mom finished applying sunscreen to her emerald skin. 

“Go, but no morphing into salt water animals, just because I know CPR does not mean I want to use it.” 

“Ok!” Phoenix shouted behind her as she ran into the Titans tower pool diving in feet first spraying droplets of water on her mother. 

Just then, the door to the roof slammed open and Gar appeared carrying Mavis over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. 

“Why is it that trying to put my children in bathing suits is like trying to wrestle baby alligators?” he grumbled before Mavis kicked him in the face with a jelly shoe. 

“At least Phoenix can dress herself now,” Raven replied. 

“Ok, Rae” Gar said, handing her a wiggling giggling Mavis, “You can do this, I believe in you!” 

“I’m going to need more than your belief Gar, I’m going to need a miracle.” Raven said, placing the girl in her lap as she squeezed sunscreen into her palm. 

Raven attempted to work quickly before Mavis could realize what she was doing but it was too late. Mavis immediately threw her head back and arched her back as far as it could go to get away from her mother. She kicked and screeched and bit at her mother in an attempt to get away from her and the sunscreen. Succeeding only twice as Mavis was like a greased up pig at this point. Eventually Gar had to step in and hold his screaming child down while Raven rubbed the rest of the sunscreen into her skin, all whilst Mavis was screeching at the torture she was being made to suffer. 

Finally finished with her work, Raven and Gar let Mavis go while she ran and threw herself down next to the pool, now able to throw a proper tantrum. 

Door to the roof opened again revealing the rest of the former team along with the new titans as they filed out. 

Cyborg stood at the door, hands on his hips glaring at the couple, “Yo what did you two do to my baby!” A long time ago this sentence would’ve meant the T Car but now exclusively meant Mavis whomst Vic had a huge soft spot for. 

“We dared to put sunscreen on her.” Raven deadpanned. 

Vic picked up the crying child and held her to his chest shielding her away from her parents, “Well don’t do it again,” he narrowed his eyes at the empath. 

“Yeah Raven, how could you?” Gar added in sarcastically moving to retrieve his child from his best friend before she could push any buttons on him and blow everyone up. 

Kori softly chuckled at her friends' interactions as she approached with Mar’i in her own arms. 

“Raven, would you like me to watch over the little ones so you can have some time to yourself?” 

Raven stood stunned for a moment, alone time was a rare treat and one she didn’t take lightly since having children and here Kori was offering it up like it was nothing. She could cry, she could’ve kissed Kori at that moment! 

Gar was more hesitant however, “Are you sure, Star? Mavis is a handfu-”. 

“Thank you so much Kori!” Raven interrupted shooting her husband a dirty look. HIs overprotectiveness was NOT about to ruin this rare opportunity for her. 

Gar sighed but handed over Mavis to his friend and threw himself in the pool identically to the way Phoenix did spraying Raven with more water this time. Raven didn’t care though as she had already started lounging in a chair near the poolside with a book she kept in her bag just in case a rare opportunity like this occurred. 

Gar swam over to Phoenix who was at this point testing out different freshwater fish she could turn into whilst doing laps. Upon seeing her Dad she morphed back into a girl and swam to meet him. “Dad! Dad! Look what I just figured out!” she shouted before morphing into an green lizard-like creature with fuzzy antennae on the sides of her face.  

“Good work Nix, and that is called an….” 

She morphed back into a child to answer, “Axolotl, a freshwater anphi, anphoebe, ambphibi,” 

“Amphibian” Gar chuckled out. 

“Yeah that one, and it comes from mexico.” 

“You got it kid!” he said, giving the girl a high five. 

Much to her delight her Dad then picked her up and threw her over his shoulder into the water. Phoenix emerged from the water, squealing “Do it again!” and he complied, throwing his child again and again as she cackled at their little game. 

As much fun as Gar was having as well, he knew something was missing and that something was his wife. He knew how much her alone time meant to her, but with having the kids the time he had with just Raven was far and few between. 

Phoenix swam back over to her Dad to get thrown again when he grabbed her up and whispered in her ear, “Hey Nixie, ask Mom to come in with us.” 

Phoenix looked over at her mother fully engrossed in her reading at the poolside. “Mom doesn’t want to get in the pool” 

Gar rolled his eyes “I know but she’s more likely to say yes to you than me.” 

Phoenix regarded her mother lounging again, Phoenix really wanted to get ice cream after the pool and she knew that was more likely to happen if her mother was in a good mood and reading definitely put her in a good mood. 

“No.” she said, staring at her Dad straight in the eyes. 

Gar narrowed his eyes at Phoenix and threw her over his shoulder again but with less mirth this time. 

Gar swam to the edge of the pool near Raven gave her his best puppy dog eyes, “Hey Ra-” 

“No.” she said without looking up. 

“Come on! I just want to have fun with you!” he complained. 

Raven tore her eyes away from the book in her hand to glare at her husband, “Who stays home with the kids?” 

Gar sighed at the familiar argument he always lost, “You do.” 

“And when you’re on set, you get breaks right?” 

“Yes” 

“Do I ever get a break from being the mom?” 

“No” 

“So when I get a get a rare break, I’m going to enjoy it to the fullest, Gar” 

Gar pouted and looked up at his wife, “but I miss you.” 

Raven sighed and grumbled something to herself about him being as bad as the kids. “I promise we can do something together after the kids go to bed, but right now I really just want to read my book.” 

Gar's ears drooped but he resigned, “Ok, enjoy your book Rae.” 

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” Raven smiled. 

Gar offered a half smile, still disappointed but deciding it was best to give her space. 

 Meanwhile Kori was sitting with Mavis and Mar’i on a beach towel while the girls were playing with toys. Mar’i was trying to wrestle the plastic elephant out of Mavis' hands whilst Mavis kicked and screamed at the other toddler. 

“No, no, please girls no more fighting,” Kori implored the children. 

The two girls had done nothing but fight since Kori had brought them over and she was at her wits end. She hadn’t truly understood what Garfield had meant by Mavis was a handful until this moment. 

Mar’i had finally ripped the toy out of Mavis’s hands and threw it into the deep end of the pool. Mavis, outraged, bit the half tameranian on the arm leaving deep teeth marks. 

Kori was shocked and scolded Mavis whilst running to get the neosporin for Mar’i. 

Mavis took this as her opportunity to go retrieve her elephant and waddled her way over to the pool's edge. 

Gar was throwing a beach ball back and forth with Phoenix when he saw something that made his blood run cold. Time stood still as he watched his youngest daughter trip over the edge of the pool and begin to fall in. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe, all he could do was panic as he watched her tiny body disappear into the deep end. 

“MAVIS NO!” he screamed, willing the inevitable to stop. 

Raven’s eyes tore away from her book and it was discarded in an instant as she sprinted to where her daughter had fallen in jumping in without a moment’s hesitation. Mavis had barely been in the water for a few minutes before rising to the top, struggling and splashing to keep herself afloat as Raven snatched her up and breathed a sigh of relief that she came back up quickly and didn’t try to inhale water. 

Raven clutched a sobbing Mavis to her chest, shaking and attempting to stop herself from thinking about what could’ve happened. Gar swam over to examine the pair and make sure everyone was ok before hugging them both. Phoenix swam over as an axolotl to the deep end and cocked her head to the side in silent questioning at her mother. 

“Everyone’s ok Nix. Thank you.” Raven replied, finally calming down at the same time as Mavis. 

Gar smiled at Raven and then began to chuckle. 

Raven narrowed her eyes at her husband, “I fail to see the humor in this situation Garfield!” 

“Good Job, Mavis. You somehow got your mom in the pool!” he said through his laughter. 

Raven’s eyes glowed with black magic as she sent a tidal wave crashing over her husband whilst holding both of her girls to her. 

[cuffed-jeans-and-anarchy]

will hc’s

im on a roll

-he wears skirts

-he’s gods awful about sleeping. like, on any given night, you can find this boy in the infirmary hopped up on 3 redbulls, eyes twitching and hands shaking, and he’s just like ‘’nah bro it’s chill’’

-he listens to country music. it’s not even a secret. he blasts it at 3 am

-when he gets really tired, you can hear his southern accent and nico adores it

-he 100% calls nico darlin’ put it on my tombstone

-he made nico this shitty little clay sunshine bead with a smiley face on it and nico wears it everywhere

-he calls nico sunshine

-all of his little siblings come to him with their little bugs and frogs and stuff and he sorta has a fear of amphibians but he smiles anyway and helps them name the little dudes

-on that note he’s the only one of the apollo kids who’s afraid of spiders

-’‘oH MY GOD NICO GET IT OUT OF HERE GET IT OUT GET IT OUT GET I T OUT-’’

-he complains about nico’s diet but he survives on caffeine and fruit

-he can 100% play YMCA on his ukulele don’t ask me how it works

-nico’s hoodies are way too small on him but damn he tries

-he’s actually really talented at like, the trumpet or some other weird and non-aesthetic instrument but he refuses to tell anyone

-he passive-aggressively says ‘‘yikes’‘ every time percy speaks

-one time he got absolutely hammered to prove a point to his siblings that he’s not a lightweight. he had, like, half a can of hard lemonade.

-he has a little stick-n-poke of an arrow on his ankle because of micheal

-he impulsively says ‘‘take your shoes off’’ to all of his siblings when they walk into the cabin because his southern mother

-he reads everything he can

-he absolutely says ‘‘oh sweetie’‘ really condescendingly

-this man has never touched a green bean and never will

-he also always cuffs his jeans

-he has these beat up yellow low-top converse he refuses to get rid of

-he’s like, 6′3

-he actually wasn’t the one to say ‘‘i love you’‘ first