#dwarf clawed frogs

[scarefox]

Alright here is my frog video I did for the video class finals

The Dwarf Clawed Frog (english version)

(Was an Adobe Premiere Pro class. So it was about the editing, not the quality of the filmed content. Could have used stock footage too but I wanted to try an unserious informative video about my froggos. Officially we only had 2 days of time but I did a bit outside of class as well)

[biscuitmango]

I got frogbit

for my frog tanks

[savageboar]

ok sometimes someone will post a completely fine aquarium setup and redditors will bombard them accusing them of animal abuse n shit and im just like goddamn post your own damn Perfect tanks then before you start acting like everyone else in the hobby sucks

[herptilesandher]

I found this weird, supposed African Dwarf Frog care pamphlet at Petsmart a few years ago and I just got around to making a video on it now— how did they mess up this badly?

[tomorrowsgardennc]

how do i do this again? oh yeh...

garden update // august 20th 2024

the pollinator garden that was literally a "toss seeds and see what happens shrug emoji" has officially reached covering-the-view'of-the-house stage. eventually over the course of this fall and winter we will add a fence and plant perennials instead of whatever annual flower seeds i had lying around. asters are popping up in the shade of them all which i find funny since asters prefer cooler weather.

speaking of cooler weather... from the first bit of fall seeds i started i find the interesting germination contrast of saved seeds (not even my saved seeds, a friends) dwarf siberian kale versus bought online. the left was the saved seeds 📝👀 her's grew 10 minutes from my house, the one bought online was from a big boi store further up north. and these did hit 90°+ weather too, which technically was bad BUT not for the seeds that are all "yeh, we know how crazy this weather is nbd 😎"

my favorite basil ever, the spicy globe basil, is finally bolting for seed. i kept harvesting just one bush so i could get seeds sooner rather than later. okra is doing great, too. still giving off flowers and already got a first batch of dried okra for the seeds. i let the okra dry on the plant itself to ensure the most energy gets into those suckers as much as possible.

ok, so i'll start a separate thread for my quest for a frog pond, but i plan on putting it in the middle of the large square bed. everyone, even hubs, was like why big square you cant reach the middle and i was like it fits the space though!! but they were all right, hurts my back trying to reach the middle and tripping over the plants defeats the purpose. but it fits so nicely in the spot!! so frog pond will go in middle, around it is brassicas during the winter, then 2025 is purple tomatillo, 2026 is corn, 2027 okra, and then repeat indefinitely. so tall plants to shade it during the summer, and short plants so it gets plenty of sun in the winter. should be ok right?????? also i have yet to plant my prickly pear cactus because i legit dunno where to put them. i keep moving them around the garden and just not loving wherever they go. ughs.

peppers are almost done, so fall must be around the corner. but don't worry, tomorrow i'm going to dig up most of them and overwinter in the greenhouse. hawks claw totally, cayenne probably not because they had such stunted growth, lemon drop totally not because i have too many, but totes the giant marconi because that's my favorite sweet pepper so far. haven't tried many sweet pepper varieties though, and would love to grow an heirloom not a hybrid. my purple bells still haven't produced anything 😭 but i'll wait to pull those at the last minute... just in case...

lots to do this week. tomorrow is a false fall day, so going to spend it all outside and enjoy it 💚

[frog-association]

Hey frog togs today is day 30 of frog posting I also just finished a painting today feeling good anyway today's frog is .....

The African dwarf frog! (Hymenochirus curtipes)

This frogs size is typically around 2-3 (5-7.5 cm) inches with females being larger than males they weigh anywhere from 1.5-2 grams (05-07 oz) these frogs are a completely aquatic and are a type of clawed frog species and are native to the equatorial areas of Africa and prefer lowland rainforests and they do need to come up for air

[wats-am]

Hi!! 2, 6 & 20 for the love your fandom asks? 🌟

Hi, Honey, thanks for these! 🌟

2. A headcanon you weren’t sure about at first, but have come to like: I’ve been wracking my brains over this one, and honestly, I don’t have a good answer. Usually, I either take to a headcanon, or I don’t, and usually my mind doesn’t change. I guess it took me a bit to warm up to the idea of Sam Emerson and Alan Frog being turned into vampires in the Lost Boys sequels. I hated, and honestly still do hate, the idea of the Awesome Monster Bashers being split up and holding grudges against each other. But, I grew to really enjoy the possibilities that came with any of them being turned, especially if they still worked together as hunters, and really loved some of the stories and art that was made around the idea. So, hated the concept in canon, but loved the headcanons.

6. Something you see in art a lot and love: Jay Derris (Askewniverse) with painted nails and waist length hair, and mixing and matching, or making original outfits for him. Basically any Star Trek alien (especially from DS9) with more exaggerated features. This also goes for Cat from Red Dwarf (let that pussy cat have pointy ears and claws). Butthead (Beavis & Butthead) being taller and chunkier than Beavis. When people draw human!Rem (Death Note) as a black lady with colourful dreadlocks and an eyepatch.

20. Your very first fandom: If we’re talking me first becoming aware of fanfiction/fanart/fanvids, I’m pretty sure it was CATS the musical.

[cliff-and-the-kid]

Wolfen & Warlocks

A few days ago I rolled up some versions of Cliff and Sierra for a tabletop roleplaying game of my own creation, and it was very fun! Definitely going to play around with that some more in future.

For now, though, I thought I'd lay out a little more about the Sarantian Races, and reiterate my offer to put together/draw other muses in this little fantasy world - more under the cut:

What is Sarant? A high fantasy world I've been devising for nearly fifteen years now, with one self-published book on the market and several more in the works. It is a place inhabited by the various Amkyn races, whose primitive ancestors emerged from the earliest fonts of primal magic, and also the Arriv, an allied collection of peoples descended from refugees that arrived from other worlds entirely.

The Arriv Elf, dwarf, human, orc, and goblin are outliers in this wild land, using their 'celestial' magics to skirt the natural order of things and praying to a pantheon of gods called the Immosi.

Elves have long since made themselves at home in the Grand Forest and along the shores of its Long Lake. They are classified as Middling-Tall, receive a +2 Attunement bonus, and originally created the trasformative magic called Alchemy

Dwarves dwell in the extensive cavern system beneath the towering Wide Mounts and their many foothills. They are classified as Middling-Short, receive a +2 Strength bonus, and originally created the crafting magic called Sorcery

Humans spread throughout much of the Southern Fields and can be found in communities of all sizes along the river lines. They are classified as Middling, receive a +2 Intuition bonus, and originally created the manipulation magic called Wizardry

Orcs live in either the Eastern Woodlands or Grey Crags depending on their philosophical ideologies, the meckle and the kunal. They are classified as Large, receive a +2 Fortitude bonus, and originally created the health-based Sacrificial magic.

Goblins founded a new home in the extensive and bountiful Marhok Marshlands of the southwest. They are classified as Small, receive a +2 Agility bonus, and originally created the space-folding Astral magic.

The Amkyn Of all the many non-sapient animal species to cover the vast array of environments in the world, only twenty have given rise to more advanced Amkyn peoples, capable of craftship, culture, and civilization. Some of these races are older and more powerful than others, but each answer to their representative god upon the Primari Council.

Wolfen (wolves) Large, Natural Ability: Guardian Boon

Felisapi (cats) Middling-Tall, NA: Claw Slash

Kitsune (foxes) Middling-Short, NA: Deep Bite

Ritikai (rats) Small, NA: Tail Smack

Minotaurs (cattle) Large, NA: Hoof Stomp

Centaurs (horses) Large-Long, NA: Rearing Kick

Burar (badgers) Middling, NA: Explosive Growl

Fauns (sheep) Small, NA: Headbutt

Satyrs (goats) Middling-Short, NA: Horn Slam

Dryads (deer) Middling-Long, NA: Bounding Leap

Harpies (birds of prey) Middling-Tall, NA: Sudden Shriek

Fairies (winged insects) Tiny, NA: Airborne

Quirren (squirrels) Middling, NA: Inherent Spite

Dispai (spiders) Tiny-Long, NA: Sticky Feet

Torardim (turtles) Middling, NA: Extra Armor

Borfen (bears) Large, NA: Paw Swipe

Naga (snakes) Tiny, NA: Tripping Hazard

Obongi (frogs) Small, NA: Spring Step

Susataurs (pigs) Large, NA: Bonecrunch

Anonians (dragonkin) Variety of Sizes and Natural Abilities, depending on the particular court: the Tiny bright green Forests with a Paralytic Touch, the Small golden Fields with Wing Strike, the Middling-Short russet Crags who Hypnotize, the Middling azure Crystals with Poison Spines, the Middling-Tall crimson Smokes who breathe Dense Smog, and Large violet Storms who Summon Lightning

Natural Abilities and Bonuses come inherent to each race; Wolfen cannot learn Elemental Magics, Amkyn as a whole are unable to use Celestial Magics, and Arriv remain barred from the Primal category of Natural Magics. Other than those restrictions, any personage is free to pick and choose whatever skills they prefer from these areas of study:

MELEE Hand to Hand - Close Combat - Long Range

FOCUS Conviction - Centering - Awareness

SUBTLETY Tricks - Borrows - Whispers

NATURAL MAGIC Primal - Musical - Soul - Growth - Decay

CELESTIAL MAGIC Arcane - Astral - Alchemy - Sorcery - Sacrificial

ELEMENTAL MAGIC Fire - Water - Earth - Air - Magma - Ice - Light - Dark

There are four basic abilities within each category; specializing can earn the favor of that field's divine patron(s), whereas diversifying can open pathways to particular allies and organizations. New characters begin with four choices; leveling up allows the option of adding a new ability to one's skillset, or upgrading one already known to improve its output.

[bestfrogbracket]

Eastern Banjo Frog: This frog is also known as the pobblebonk frog due to the sound of its calls. They live in moist areas of Southeastern Australia, where five recognized subspecies distinguished by their colouration are found. During dry periods, they burrow underground, and have even been heard calling from their burrows. They emerge to hunt at night and after rains and will travel up to 1 km in search of a breeding site. The female cares for the eggs, carrying bubbles of air down into their foamy mass to keep them oxygenated. After hatching, tadpoles take four to fifteen months to mature, depending on ambient temperatures. This species was also the first amphibian to have its genome sequenced!

African Dwarf Frog: A genus of four species, Hymenochirae is a genus commonly kept in captivity as aquatic pets due to their calm demeanor with other creatures their size. In the wild, they are found in still pools in equatorial Africa, and are fully aquatic, drying out after 20 minutes out of water. H. boettgeri is the most studied species of the genus, but H. curtipes is also bred in captivity. They are opportunistic scavengers and have black claws on their hind feet to tear apart large pieces of food, which they shove or suck into their tongueless mouths. Pictured is H. boettgeri.

[fanfictionhab]

Dance Macabre: Chapter 2

For Chapter 1 For: ao3 link

The rays of moonlight over the crumbling ramparts of Baldur's Gate, cast long and darker-from-night shadows across this graveyard. Mist clung stubbornly to the crumbling headstones, each a silent testament to lives lived and stories forever hushed. Caelia sat hunched on a windswept hillock in the cemetery. Fatigue lines etched her face, and the scabbed wound on her chin was smoothly pulsing while she was reflecting the long, arduous night she'd endured. She went there after she had left the tavern in haste. Her steps had led to a single headstone she knew so well. This wasn't just any headstone; it held the memory of someone she'd loved deeply, a void etched into her soul. It was the final resting place of her only best friend , Elara, and with it, lay buried a lifetime of shared laughter. She stopped to gaze at the grave, it was neat and proper, however, some moss sprouted from the earth and the lilies she had left past season were still there but dried in crumbs. Its inscription was worn smooth by Caelia’s countless touches. She caressed the cold stone one more, not with mere fingertips, but with the weight of a thousand unspoken goodbyes, a thousand unfulfilled dreams. Each touch whispered a cheerful memory: she and her running through the spruce forest near their childhood town, scaring the ruminating goats of the woodsman, collecting dwarf frogs and feeding them tiny flies, swimming drunk naked under moonlight, all the silly mistakes they made while learning sword fighting together… Each touch resonated with the pain in her heart, a symphony of "what-ifs" and "what-could-have-beens" echoing in the empty spaces where their future once bloomed. Even though it's contradictory, here, beside the grave of someone she'd loved with ferocity, she found a strange solace. 

“Caelia! Stop!” Elara’s voice burst from her memories, striking a thousand needles in her heart. It was one of the last things she had said to her. 

Caelia knelt, brushing leaves and dust from Elara's headstone. Fresh lilies replaced wilted ones, their white stark against the night. Unfolding a thin cloth from her bag, she laid it beside the tombstone. 

"Cealia, fight it!" Elara screamed, her voice hoarse with desperation. "Please, it's you in there!" Caelia fought, but it was a battle against herself. The entity, coiled within her like a viper… "Caelia, please!" Elara cried, her voice choked with tears. "Fight it! It's me, Elara! Don't let it take you!"

A tidal wave of painful memories slammed into Caelia, despite her desperate attempts to hold them back.

"No!" Caelia resisted, summoning every ounce of her will to push back against the alien force surging through her body, due to the curse of the broken pact. It felt like grappling with a monstrous tide, its icy tendrils wrapping around her thoughts. She swam as much as she could, but the tide was enormous and dark. The entity, a serpent of darkness entwined within her soul, reveled in the chaos, its laughter echoing in Caelia’s mind. With a bewitched surge of demonic power, Caelia sent Elara crashing back. Elara hovered and hit the ground, that unnatural, brittle sound of the faint, eerie crunch of... bones. Caelia’s stomach lurched. Elara’s arm, twisted at an impossible angle, was held rigid by the shattered bone protruding through the torn flesh… The sight of her friend's pain, the flicker of fear in her eyes, momentarily pierced the entity's control of her. A sliver of Caelia, fragile and terrified, clawed its way to the surface of her own possessed mind.

"Elara... run," she rasped, the words tasting like ash in her mouth. Caelia’s eyes snapped open, no longer the warm brown that reflected Elara's trust, but cold, calculating orbs that glowed with an unnatural light. 

But Elara, ever loyal, wouldn't abandon her. With tears streaming down her face, “never” she said. “Its my fault, I failed both of us.” With a cry that ripped through the silence, she lunged. But her blade wasn't aimed at Caelia, no. It was a desperate, almost suicidal charge against the entity itself. The movement was reckless, fueled by grief and a love that refused to be broken. The clash was a blinding flash of light, the air crackling with raw power. Then, silence.

A sharp gasp escaped Caelia's lips as vivid recollections jolted her. Caelia laid beside the tombstone of Elara, on the thin cloth she unfolded. The lantern flickered to life, casting a warm circle. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, inhaling damp earth and blooming flowers. Tonight, she wouldn't just mourn. She would plan. For Elara, for herself, she would seek answers. Even if they lay buried deep, even if they meant confronting her own choices.

She looked at her own hands, covered with blood, holding a sword cutting through Elara’s thin body,  her teary eyes desperately begging her to stop. Caelia didn’t stop. Couldnt… Stop. The blade had entered between Elara's shoulder and neck, twisting and tearing its way through her body in a sickening arc. Jagged edges of flesh peeked from the gaping wound, and Caelia could almost hear the wet gurgle of escaped breath that must have marked Elara's last moments. The entity, now master of her vessel, smiled, a chilling mockery of Caelia's own features. "The debt is settled," its voice an evil copy of Caelia's own.

Caelia slammed shut the mental picture of Elara's lifeless eyes, the echo of the infernal command still ringing in her ears. She refused to remember how she screamed. A primal scream had ripped from Caelia's throat, raw and anguished after she snapped back at herself that night. Tears, hot and blinding, streamed down her face, tracing trails through the blood that wasn't hers. Each sob was a hammer blow to her soul, shattering the last vestiges of denial. Elara's reckless pact, foolishly sealed with an unknown infernal entity, had spiraled out of control and failed, possessing and forcing Caelia's hand. It punished not just Elara, but herself. Blinded by pride and desperation, she had become the very monster she and her sought to defeat. Now, Elara was gone, swallowed by the darkness she desperately tried to shield her from.

“it's not my fault…” “it's not my fault…”“it's not my fault…

Caelia's whispered mantra, "It's not my fault," hung heavy in the air, echoing off the damp stones of the abandoned graves. The darkness pressed in, mirroring the despair that threatened to consume her. Suddenly, a sardonic chuckle shattered the silence.

"So it was entirely your fault, isn't it darling'?"

Caelia whipped around, her dagger flashing in the moonlight that filtered through the well's opening. There he leaned against the mausoleum wall, his amusement clear even in the dim moonlight, his form barely visible in the shadows. Moonlight glinted off his golden eyes, and a mocking grin stretched across his handsome, yet unsettling, face. 

"How..." Caelia stammered, her voice hoarse with shock , fear and the shyness. "How did you find me?"

"Let's just say," he drawled, holding the bloodied cloth she had left in the tavern, "vampires have a way of finding their way to those who have a vested interest in them." His gaze slid down to her dagger, then back up, meeting her eyes with a glint of challenge. "Planning on adding another stain to your conscience?"

Caelia's grip tightened around the hilt. His casual demeanor fueled her anger. " I saved you and now you are blaming me even though you have no idea what I've been through and yet-"

"Oh, I have a few guesses," he countered, his voice dropping to a seductive purr. "Grief, guilt, a touch of self-loathing... empaty -ugh.. disgusting. a potent cocktail"

He held up a hand, stopping her before she could retort. "But before we delve into your emotional baggage, wouldn't it be polite to introduce ourselves properly? I'm sure you wouldn't want to spend this delightful evening with a nameless shadow."

Caelia glared, but a sliver of curiosity flickered within her. Her silence was the answer. 

He offered a theatrical bow, moonlight catching the glint in his eyes. "Call me... Astarion. A moniker with a touch of mystery, a hint of danger, and a dash of charm, wouldn't you agree?"

"Astarion, huh?" she repeated, testing the name on her tongue. It held a curious power, a weight of history she couldn't quite grasp. "I am Caelia." Her lips twitched, despite herself. "Clever," she conceded grudgingly. "But charm doesn't change the fact that you're still... what you are."

"And what is that?" Astarion raised an eyebrow, his smile sharpening. "A monster? A creature?” He smiled like he's making sure to show his sharp and long canines.  “Perhaps, but even monsters have their uses. Especially when it comes to navigating the shadows you seem so determined to explore."

His words hung in the air, laced with both taunt and temptation. Caelia knew she shouldn't trust him, yet a part of her, consumed by grief and desperate for answers, found herself strangely drawn to his enigmatic presence.

"What do you want, Astarion?" she finally asked, her voice low and wary.

"Answers, darling," he replied, his voice a whisper. "And perhaps, in the darkness you seek, a chance at redemption, both for you and someone you hold dear."

Caelia hesitated, her instincts screaming treachery. Yet, the gnawing need for information battled with the desire to plunge her dagger into his chest. It was a stalemate she both loathed and relished. 

"But first, how about a truce? This cemetery isn't exactly conducive to lively conversation, wouldn't you agree?" He gestured towards the town nestled beyond the iron gates, its twinkling lights promising reprieve from the oppressive silence.

[dracoconcordia]

Hidden Crescent, Chapter One

"So remind me why we're going to old Corona again." Cassandra rested her head in her as she leaned on the edge of the cart.

"To check on Varian." It had been something she dreaded for the longest time. The whole fiasco with the tree had driven her over her art-block among other things. "I haven't heard any word for him since The Storm."

Because he could be dead, not that the warrior would say it out loud. "May he's out like your boyfriend. You'd think he'd have enough sleep with how many naps he takes."

"Oh, it's not that bad." That earned her a look from the other female. "Sure it may be a little… extensive at times, but I don't think it's a problem."

"Raps, he sleeps on top of the bookshelves in the castle, I think Romeo may have a problem. Speaking of which." She glanced next to her friend. "Wake up Fitzherbert!"

Shooting up the man sputtered around. "Huh? What? Who's attacking us?"

"No one is Eugene, it's just Cass." Rapunzel smiled at him. "Have a good sleep?"

"Until the end there, yeah." He halfheartedly glared at the dark haired woman. "Then the dragon lady just had to wake me up."

"Oh, boo hoo. You would've had to be woken up soon anyways," gesturing past them with a finger Cassandra pointed out, "we're also there."

"Well it wouldn't kill you to be nicer about it." The rogue turned his body to get a better look. "What's with the crowd?"

"Crowd?" Chirped the girl as she also looked in that direction. Indeed the better part of the village looked like they packed up and were ready to leave with a few in what was a seemingly heated argument. As the wagon stopped the princess took that as her queue to confront them herself. "What's going on here?"

"We were gonna move to that new plot of land the king promised us but this guy says that the monster will just follow us." He looked annoyed at his neighbor. "What else can we do, Frank? With the rocks and the monster catching us at both sides it's not like we have much of a choice!"

"But our families have been here for generations? Don't you care?" The other man waved his hands in the air as he ranted. "The beast will just follow our sheep and the rock might show up there too! What would be the point?"

"Woah, woah! Hold on," looking between the two she asked. "What monster?"

"A big, nasty monster has been getting at our livestock, Princess." An older woman came forward. "Nothing's safe, chickens, goats, nothing. In the morning we find the mangle bodies just lyin' there."

"Okay, alright, um…." Glancing around at what she could see, the black rocks were worse than ever. "Continue with relocation, I pr-" no, not propose, not again, "guarantee we'll do our best to find out whatever this creature is and remove it as quickly as possible. First thing I need to know is where it was last seen."

"It was in the field where I keep my flock, your majesty." A shepherd came forward with a little lamb nestled at his and staff in his other hand. "It like to have gotten this one, lucky she got away with only a hurt leg. I can lead you there."

"Please do."

…

In not long at all the group arrived at their destination. Bowing out the farmer went to attend his animals while the others investigated. Pascal clicked as he jumped out the blond as they all looked in separate locations. The little reptile wasn't paying attention when he glanced up a tree and tripped in a shallow hole. Hearing the indignant squeak, the former thief checked on the unlucky chameleon.

"Hey Frog, what-cha fall into- oh." Eugene picked up Pascal as he carefully examined the indent in the earth. With lips pressed he put his free hand in the center of a large handprint that dwarfed his own. It was definitely human sharp with its five long fingers but also had the clear animalistic detail of claws thrown in.

Pascal sweaked with alarm this time causing Cass to go over and look over the young man's shoulder. "Uh, Raps. You might want to take a look at this."

"What is- wow! That's big." And no doubt belonged to something bigger. "What do you think made that?"

"I can give you three guesses." Declared a new, rough voice. "But none of them will be pretty."

"Uh, who are you?" True to her nature Cass didn't trust this new individual. "And what are you doing here?"

"Name's Captain Creighton, world class big-game tracker and beast hunter." She came over and shared a passing glance at Eugene, who stepped out her way. Eyeing the tracks the captain hummed. "Hm, I'd say what you have here is a werewolf."

"A werewolf?" Rapunzel laughed at the upsirdness of the claim. "There's no such thing as werewolves."

Pascal clicked in agreement.

"No such thing as werewolves? Bah." Scoffing at her "naivety" she went to question the girl. "Know who the ruler of this kingdom is? Need a word with him."

"That would be her dad." Snapped Cassandra not liking the person one bit. "I'd be nicer if I were you."

"We can take you to him. I'm sure he'd like to know about, uh, the wolf situation."

"Good." The hunter nodded. "The sooner we get there, the best."

[scarefox]

gotta fight the squeeking bubbles

as I said in an earlier post: the bubble thingy doesn't bubble properly sometimes and then makes noise that sounds similar to the male frogs croacking. And now my frogs constantly check it out and the guy is fighting with the bubbles.... lol.... doesn't help that these frogs don't have the best eye sight.

[cymorilcinnamonroll]

angel bones: a hagiography of genesis

Waltzin’ Matilda

Morning came. Lucifer watched it creep past Eve's breast, careening over the skyscrapers of Hell, where an ashy snow fell onto obsidian cobblestone and veins of fire. His penthouse smelled of cheap sex between ghosts renewed, and a woman who was approaching thirty thinking, I too have aged out of new beginnings.

Penitent, Eve slept, her hands clasped in prayer, sweat at her brow. She shivered. "Tawu. Tawu. Tawu," she chanted as incense burned. Jasmine. The smoke misted, and Lucifer's wing cradled her. He traced the proud breasts that were beginning to know gravity, the fat and paunch of birthing thousands of children, stretch marks, the cocoon of ugliness. His love was becoming hag. Infertile. Witch.

What to do, with a fallen plaything. What use does the Devil have for Eve when she cannot birth Cain? Evenings, mornings. He clings. Nurses her milk. She is the only mother he has ever known. Lilith is all Lucifer's. No woman loves him, what of it. This proud bold Eros, golden-torque, the matter and antimatter of dwarf stars. Crushing gravity.

Hell. On Earth. But he is tender for her. They are processing a blockage.

Lucifer soothes her, kissing away her sweat. She is fading, dying, dying, away, and then, she will be dust, and he will be

alone again.

He thinks of planting her bones in his garden. When she reckons with death, will Lucifer or Michael call? He has no providence over death - no, only her soul? Her eternally youthful heart phoenix. The golden dove on Cathar Lady Esclarmonde's tomb.

When the Holy Grail of her womb is barren, what type of black magick will boil in the hag? The witch? He is old, too, wretched.

Lucifer lets go. Of the pleasing form. Of what she likes.

Of all artifice.

When Eve awakes, Lucifer is monstrous. A beef jerky, clawing, mummy demon, with protrusions like burnt ridges, scarred flesh. His bat wings, bloody scabs, and wrinkled, brown-red sanguine skin hangs like horror.

"I'm mourning a death," Eve says, through her tears.

He holds her close. His cock stirs at her ugly. At her whole. At her holes only he

can fill.

"Yours?"

"Maybe. But you, you don't die. You never die. What will be left of you, after I am gone?"

Lucifer reaches for an old cup of wine on the nightstand.

He pours it down his fiery gullet, his black hole eyes bleeding pus.

"Sanity," he admits.

Eve bites off part of his breast corpse. The nipple. She crunches the hide. It's so dead, burnt when he Fell. She chews the gristle, winces as she swallows.

"I hope," she says. "Do not think on me."

"I won't. I will. I'll always bring you

back."

Eve cries. "Trapped. In Hell. On Earth. Insane. With

you. Why?"

"Because, Chavah, first love makes a man

do crazy

things."

Gomorrah

the guts proliferated, straining my stomach to entwine with my demon

lucifer ate the syrup of blood and sausage, digesting my dreams, and i

stewed below him, full of regret and the impending years.

we were siamese twins (i'm growing more wicked, becoming his cancer)

and the fire of my twenties is fading to aching joints and lust for voids

that could cradle my soft places, and melt my hard hardedness

but the years span on, a vacant wash, like the gaping maw between my legs.

i birthed a billion frogs, they clamored from my pelvis like rain, i plague mother

i dreamed christ returned in drowning blood seas, and dead bones became flesh

it's so strange, nubs of prophecy, like moses erased the narrative - i've only got scraps

dog scraps, to feed a kennel of wolves, and i'm eating lice as i freeze to nothing

wasting in this empty tea saucer, the devil has drunk it all down, and i'm bits of sugar

on satan's

lip

a sweet

and terrible

thing.

Noblesse Oblige

Eve watched rain fall. It was tenor hours in Lucifer's chalet in the beach side of St Tropez. She nursed a gin and tonic and her long, golden legs were illuminated in hazy sun, her black hair and brown eyes longing. Lucifer was quiet. He'd been quiet all month. It was like a stopper in her inspiration had been capped on the valleys of wine that used to flow. 

Constipation. Them joined in hatred. The death of an aeon of love.

Now, bitter. Bitter harvest. Black wrath. The ache of a grave, stilted prose, and the feeling that Walpurgisnacht, night of witches, brought on the staleness of summer, and mourning.

Lucifer was reading Oscar Wilde. Lightning illuminated his tan slacks and white cotton button down. He looked like Jude Law playing Bosie. There was a foppish air, a devil may care holistic disregard for Eve's needs.

It was all about him. His vices. His wrath. Satan's Sorrow. Eve is cast along, left adrift, overwhelmed - demons do that. To humans they love. They'll become crows and rape you at the gallows. With iron limbs, and shards of mirror their skin, they will kiss you til you bleed, then feast on the organ pie of your charred corpse.

Eve looked at Lucifer's white knuckle. It was oddly shaped, too perfect, bruised from a night of brutal fucking. A lost tourist paddleboarded by, far in the distance.

Gin and tonic, gone. Her last self-respect, her beauty, diminished to subtle poison and the wickedness of the wise. It feels so tenderly bad, so awfully wretched, the fading of love.

but who would write, she thought, the devil and woman, in love?

Grave Robber

Eve's menses came at dawn, thick red fruit that rimmed her lower lips like a psalm.

Lucifer smelled it, the thick tang of a dying egg - plush curtains of flesh shrouded in bits of crimson apple. Eve slept, her red hair and ginger lashes, tan skin, and moony freckles shimmering in a white night gown.

He was serrated hunger - choppy black hair, a roving tongue, thick fingers... pale as the stars. He gently spread his hellwife's legs and kissed a way up her inner thigh, tracing the waxed skin of her pussy.

She was so much more than woman. He felt like her toy. He loved it. She, the font of all life - he tasted the blood, his fangs sucking them in like wine. Crisp, like fall. Harvest blood. Fruit.

He set his lips to sucking at her clitoris, the hood retracting as he nibbled, licked, sucked, and blew. Eve shivered in her sleep, crying out like a mewling lamb.

He pawed at her breasts, massaging them, then parted her curtains and gently licked the labia, cresting to kiss her belly. Her gold red curls spilled down his back like alizarin wheat. He felt a great burgeoning love for his hierodule, for his ascendant, for his little bunny. Grinning, he plunged his thick, triple-forked, catsrough tongue into her canal, drinking down her blood like Dracula.

"The fruit of the womb," he murmured after an hour of making love to her with his face.

She woke in a sweat, orgasming for the dozenth time. She found Lucifer, sweaty and spent, between the crux of her legs.

"What a nice way to be woken up!" Eve piqued, smiling dopily.

Her green yellow eyes, with flecks of hazel, and a gaunt, horse-like face from all that trail running, had an austere beauty about it. She massaged his shoulders, and he rested atop her breasts.

"Anything to ease your cramps," he smiled.

They kissed, then ate

French

Toast.

Tom Traubert’s Blues

Lucifer was nursing a jug of whiskey in a brown paper bag, skipping rocks on the Styx. The blood red waters clamored with frogs of violet tones, poisoned by toxic waste from graveyards that had no end, and the smoothed volcanic pebbles crested the waves one after the other, skipping on into eternity.

The fire of the whiskey was warm.

His bed, it was cold.

She had left, Eve - eidolon cleft from his ribs. When he has shaped his golden Galatea into an idol worthy of worship, he never thought the part of his heart shard he imbued her with would run away.

He had been Adam, they were in Gan Eden, and the fruit of the Tree was good.

Now, she had taken the house. Taken all the money. Taken Gan Eden and locked the gates with Uriel's sword. Lucifer was down on skid alley, homeless, no harvest his heart. Barren in the gutter, he saw floozies cavorting with gamblers, men with mange, demons snorting spicecrack and drinking down drops of bloody fentanyl.

The highs - they never came soon enough, and every hospital was shaped like them. Lucifer went in and out of asylums and wards - Asilos Magdalena - he had the suicide hotline as his number one speeddial, razors in his pocket, and a revolving door by his office that went straight to the ICU. Hooked up, fed up, drip drip Thorazine - every reflection in the stainless steel (are these scalpels carving my body like a kitchen hog? The blood, on my flesh - it is not my own. these clamorings of rain.)

every reflection, her.

Lilith cooled her wings by a promontory Dis Beach, sleek as rain pelted them. She had sienna skin, green black hair, and Lucifer's bite marks were on her leather clad chest.

"If I am Sophia's abortion, what happens to Sophia?" the Demiurge asked Barbelo.

Barbelo shrugged, lit a Chesterton. "We howl like Ginsburg, Lu."

"Does she ever go back to the Pleorama?" His eyes misted. They were no color - the iris, whites, pupil. Just blank canvas.

Empty space.

Lucifer took a drag off Lilith's cig.

"How can she go back?" Lilith smiled serenely. "She's tasted freedom. Beyond Man. Beyond even you. Where Eve goes, fate follows."

you left me far

behind.

epilogue: The Jesus and Mary Chain

yeshua was clad in rain and armor - the trappings of a soothsayer of snakes, he who fasted in the desert for as many days as Noah's flood - but satan's serpent bite had been bitter, and sometimes my rabboni had fires in his eyes.

'yeshua, i am with child, my star of adonai,' i wept in his arms in a skincloth tent. 'what do we do? my womb is twisted from my work as a qadesh. diseased. the babe - it stopped kicking. it is given to sepsis. what must i do, my love? this poor child between us.'

yeshua wept with the might of thunder, and lightning pierced a sickle of a fig tree in the sky, burning it.

'there is no choice, miriam. we must take pennyroyal tea. oh, i am not meant to be a father - don't blame yourself. my seed is barren, and i can only give you fruit of the soul.'

we held each other as the rain stormed, and he brewed the pennyroyal to a simmer over the coals of the fire judas had lit earlier. now, just embers - like the poor babe in my womanhood.

i drank it. the blood started. contractions. he held me as i howled. yeshua summoned a rainstorm to cloak my vomiting and screams.

and then, the babe was born. it had tiny wings of the elohim. it crumbled to stardust and glory.

a tall angel, mikhail, was born from the remnants of the dust. he smiled, ether, glowing like norea's eleleth.

'mother, i will make you proud. you shall never bear a physical babe - only the songs of god.'

the holy ghost passed me, and yeshua and i kissed as he cleaned and tended to me.

mikhail ascended like starflame.

i dwelt much on it in the coming days. that first child i lost. all the millions more to follow, down the line, from adonai's sacred seed.

each passover, i remember - how our love was bitter herbs.

the heart of god is not easy. not an easy thing to hold, to eat. not an easy thing to know.

but i sup at his breast, and drink yeshua's light. 

it is my only solace, here in my cave, where my sons mikhail and gavriel rapture me

up

to the clouds

each day, i fast, and study poets and sages.

john writes me, from patmos: he says: i have seen the end.

but i know only beginnings of things - though christ is not here in body, in the quiet places

i feel him.

miriam visits often with food. she and joseph are in the land of the gauls.

i am here, not quite there. the days grow long.

but i pray, i pray, i pray

that one day

i will understand....

why.

~en fin~

[fennnii]

- AI-less Whumptober -

day one: torture tuesday

prompt(s): public torture/public use (sort of), "if you cry, we'll go easy on you."

fandom: Wolverine Frogs (my debut novel ayy)

"You're not as strong as you think you are."

They're torturing her. Well, not literally. They haven't actually lay a hand on her. Their claws are much too sharp and she is much too delicate to even risk hurting, so Joey says they're not allowed to touch her. Joey also said that she was his little lamb, his little pet that he got to keep all to himself.

At first, she had thought he was...better than the others somehow. More human. More aware.

But it turns out, he's no better than the rest of them.

He's so much worse.

Before she knew his name, she used to call him Spike because his horns reminded her a little of the devil.

How fitting.

Lara is starving. Does starvation count as torture? It's not like they're actually trying to starve her. They give her food all the time. But Lycans eat humans, and Lara may have their blood in her veins, but she won't eat a person.

She can't. She won't.

"You don't really think you're strong, do you?"

"Do you ever stop talking?"

That one is back. Or maybe he never left. Lara called him Mercy because he was nicer than the others. Granted, being the nicest Lycan is a little like being the tallest dwarf.

"The others told me you haven't been eating," Mercy says, undeterred by the glare she's giving him.

"How would they know?" Lara snaps. "They're not even here."

"The others are always watching. The others are always here."

Lara says nothing.

"How long do you think this tough girl act is going to last, huh?" He leans down, breath hot on her face."You'll have to give it up eventually. You're going to cry, aren't you? I can see you want to cry."

Lara glowers at him. "Can you not?"

He hooks a clawed finger up under her chin, so suddenly it makes her flinch. "Don't worry," he tells her in a low voice. "I won't cut you. He says we're not allowed to touch you."

Lara wants to slap him. But she knows she won't win the fight that comes next.

"If you want to cry, it's okay. It might make the others feel sorry for you. They might go easy on you."

"I'm not going to cry," Lara grits out.

The claw is lowered, and Lara fails to hide the fact that she physically relaxes. "Fine," Mercy says, eyes darkening. "You know, I'm only trying to help you."

[theunwantedgamerawebtoonhuman]

My edit:

Hear me out: Green tree frog Chris and Zaire dwarf clawed frog for Martin (They look blue to me and are almost entirely aquatic!)

Kratt Brothers if they were Frogs in Amphibia

I have been hyperfixating on this crossover for DAYS NOW. Like imagining what if they were in episodes in Season 2 and 3.

Frog!bros are field researchers working for Newtopia. They have a lil research station (maybe somewhere on outskirts of Frog Valley) but travel regularly among the continent. They do the same thing the Kratts in the cartoon do, study creatures by getting up close and personal to discover their creature power- what makes them special and valuable to Amphibia���s ecosystems. Even the most dangerous, feared creatures, which the brothers are determined to show other amphibians why these creatures should be appreciated more.

On top of that, they do population surveys, discover new findings, behaviours and relationships between animals, and write up reports that are sent back to Newtopia.

They have significantly less of the cool tech they do in the show due to no Aviva (no creature powersuits), but have developed decent inventing skills themselves (better than the ones canonically do in the show, no where near Aviva-level) and are exceptional adventurers in general.

I imagine the first human the Frog bros would’ve met is Marcy and would’ve got along SUPER WELL WITH HER. Maybe Marcy was sent to deliver some equipment to the brother’s research station. Then they would’ve met Anne and maybe even Sasha through Marcy later on. Though preferably in two seperate episodes

These are just the colours I have available now, but I would adjust the colours to be a lil less saturated and lighter if I did this digitally. Also, I’d probably give them different clothing too more in style with Amphibia, instead of just using their outfits from the show.

Sketch versions:

[tadpoles-yay]

Todays 2nd Tadpiole

hey who got these fish fries on my post?? holdup lemme call my image provider 🤳📲

…

Yes hello. Why are there fish fries on my tadpole blog. Whaddya mean these are African Dwarf frog tadpioles???

Oh yea I see it know. This lil dude has lil legs

These dudes are so much more fish like than their clawed cousins. I mean come on????

These look so much like fish fries that I would catch at the same spot where I stole the sons eggs.

fish