#cursed-frog

[wad-polaroids]

From Cursed Frog @cursed_frog on Twitter and @cursed-frog on Tumblr

[zoomed-in-pics-of-dnp]

Dan

Submission from @cursed-frog

[oddarette]

Frog boba 🐸

[bunjywunjy]

Please tell me things about the creature that is the Indian purple frog

males are about a third to a quarter the size of females so when Indian Purple Frogs are in amplexus it looks absolutely ridiculous

he doesn't even slow her down

[charlikesalmon]

cool biker guy // frog enjoyer

[barksbog]

Fresh Meat !!

i have limited preorders for theses magnetic meat beasts open

barks-bog.com/shop

[invinciblerodent]

"I'll make a save here and try breaking up with Astarion, just to see the dialogue- I could see him get kinda nasty about it, but I honestly don't know what to expect so---"

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[cool-frog-hours]

This bad boy is doing numbers on tik tok, so I figured I’d post him here too

Audio: [“Welcome…babies…to The Fruity Pebbles Castle of Torment, a scary castle with one hundred rats.” *laugher*]

[mamaodeeznuts]

naveen has to be the chillest most nonchalant guy in all of new orleans. he’s really just down to vibe through whatever nonsense is happening around him. tiana spends the movie losing her whole entire mind over everything that’s going on (being turned into a frog, suddenly being able to talk to animals, having the urge to eat bugs, et cetera) while naveen just. Does Not Care. the only time we see him as anything other than calm, cool, and collected is when he thinks he’s about to die or when it’s something concerning tiana (trying to propose to her, seeing his doppelgänger mid wedding to lottie, trying to get himself turned human so he can get tiana her dream restaurant). he’s just immediately down for whatever else happens. what kind of life did this dude lead to where being turned into a frog by a shadowy voodoo man was just no big thing to him? tiana is straight up screaming crying and throwing up the whole time and naveen is next to her like “¯\_(ツ)_/¯ just another tuesday afternoon for me. it be like that sometimes” and continuing on his merry little way. sir you have been turned into a FROG

[yarrow-leaf]

A kindling of a swordless bloodshed,

The creaking of a voiceless door —

Another piece inspired by something @mincemeat-the-warforged said that absolutely altered my brain chemistry (the same 1 am conversation that sparked this in fact!)

[last-hourglass]

Ok guys hear me out

What if. What if they were Frogs.

Raph would be an African Bullfrog, of course, that just makes sense

Leo would be a blue Poison Dart Frog because you know that dumbass would want to be the most obnoxiously colored thing in his whole family unit

Mikey would be a Panamanian Golden Frog, just my special little guy right there

But. Guys.

Guys hear me out.

Donnie would be a Purple Frog.

This bastard right here. truly the Spiny Softshell of frogs,,,, 10/10 one of the most frogs of all time

Thank you for coming to my TED talk

[warmsol]

she's so cool 2 me

[itsabouttimex2]

Inky Clutches

“You were good today, weren’t you?”

The world suddenly snaps back to color, leaving you dazed and unsteady- just seconds ago you had been on the verge of the sleep, and now-

“Someone’s a tired little bug, aren’t they?” The curse’s hand prods and pokes at your cheek to trail a cold string of ink across it, prompting you to squeak and squirm away to escape the freezing touch.

“Stop stop stop!” You squeal in mild distress, writhing under your covers and scooting your back to the wooden bedrest. “Baba, stop!”

“My poor little Squiggle,” it lowly chuckles, pulling away the bedsheets. “Always so sleepy, aren’t you?” There’s always a strange note of warmth under their condescending tone, striking in its sincerity.

“I… I hadn’t meant to fall asleep,” you admit, looking away with a frown. “But you had been gone for so long…”

“Ahahahaha! What a cute pouty face! C’mon, drop that pout… be a good little ward and smile already,” it laughs, one hand pressing harshly down on your head, mussing your hair.

The curse is hardly apologetic for their lateness. But then, the Ink Curse never apologizes. They're cruel and wicked, only caring for how much misery they can spread to anyone caught inside this cursed scroll-

Except for you, that is.

It’s almost strange how doting the abomination can be, almost affectionate- though it’s unclear how much they actually care for you, given the frequent switching between treating you like their own child and treating you like a clingy little pet.

"I was busy,” it sighs, shifting to stand a good few feet taller than you. “You’re a big kid now, Y/N. You can look after yourself, can’t you?" The blobbish thing lightly scolds, as it reaches out to pat your head in a half-assed attempt to be comforting.

“But… if you want to act like a little baby, fine.”

You’re far too used to their antics by now. The constant taunting and belittling that comes naturally with the Ink Curse, the nicknames they call you- ‘Squiggle’ and ‘Inkblot’ are two of their gentler ones- it’s nothing new. But shows of physical affection are just rare enough to get you excited, prompting you to spring off the bed and reach out to be held.

The ink homunculus scoops you up with a huff, holding you close to their chest.

“…you’ve grown, Squiggle.”

It’s a quiet and sudden confession, as the curse buries their face against your shoulder with a sigh. For a change, you can’t hear the usual barely-restrained mockery. The teasing. The taunting.

The sort of thing it relishes in delivering to all the lost souls trapped in the confines of the cursed scroll.

But for you? There’s only a quiet grumble as cold arms wrap around you with an odd kind of gentleness in their grip.

“When did you get so tall?” They murmur against your hair, their voice a low grumble, but lacking all of the usual mockery.

But even in a moment as soft as this, there’s still a hint of condescension in their voice. The curse lets out another sigh, softer this time, and it pulls away to themselves, tilting your head from side to side as it studies you.

For an artificial being made entirely of ink and spite, the look in their eyes is downright warm.

“You were so small when we first met…”

Back when you first entered the scroll, you had been barely a toddler, not even old enough to speak in anything more than gurgles. Too young to have been counted as a “sinner”, the Ink Curse had instead taken you under it’s wing as a potential “heir” to one day assist it in punishing all those caught in the hellish recesses of this twisted artifact.

And in the years that had come and pass, you had grown in more ways than one. You’d grown older. Stronger. More self-reliant. You’d learned to read and write. Learned to control yourself, and in many ways, learned to control the ink hellscape around you.

…and the thought of you growing leads the Ink Curse to wonder if one day you’ll grow to long for a world you had been cast away from.

“Soon you'll be all grown up and leaving me behind, hm?"A clawed finger pokes your cheek, squishing the softness of your skin as it tips up your chin. “You'll forget all about old Inky, won't you? Find yourself a new Baba?"

“…you ask me this too much, Baba. You know that I can’t leave.”

“And yet, one day you will.” The curse bluntly retorts, expression turning cold in a flash.“One day you’ll grow up big and strong, and you’ll find your way back to the real world… and forget all about me.”

They play this “game” frequently- making you comfort them by insinuating that they have some deep-seated fear of you magically finding a way to escape this divine scroll of punishment.

“You’ll leave, and all those memories, all the things we shared together…”

As had come to be a norm, they were playing up the part of the overly-attached parent, and they were doing it well, voice growing just shaky enough to sound vulnerable, even managing to drop their smug smile for a minute.

“…you’ll forget all about them, and then all about me.”

“I- I would never! Baba, how could you say that I would-“

The curse is immediately flooded with a strange sense of satisfaction at your sudden and utterly panicked reaction, forcing down a gleeful grin.

“How could I say it?” They echo, suddenly growing colder in tone and slower in cadence. “Because you will. That’s how little children are- they grow up, and they forget all the things they once loved so dearly.”

“And I will be one of those things.”

The Ink Curse’s voice drops to a murmur as it continues, their cyan gaze locked on you. And even though you know by now that they’re just playing this cruel “game” once again, their words manage to send a chill down your spine.

“And you’ll forget my voice. Forget my face. Forget my love. You’ll forget everything about me. And then I’ll be nothing more than a little shadowy blob in the darkest corners of your mind.

As usual, tears bead up in your eyes at these harsh accusations, feeling shamed that your guardian would still believe you to have so little faith in them.

The abomination stares down at you as you begin to cry, a wicked sense of pleasure shooting through their pitch veins at the sight of your tears.

As cruel as it seems, the Ink Curse loves nothing more than putting your loyalty to the test- they love finding ways to make you reassure them time and time again that you won’t ever abandon them. And though they know that you’ll never do such a thing, they love to hear you say it over and over.

After all, it’s “just a game”. A little “make sure you still love me” test. Maybe you’re too empathetic. Too sensitive. Too naive.

You’re something that it counts as “frail”, though it wouldn’t be able to put a name to the trait.

And the curse uses that “weakness” frequently. Playing up how they “know” you will easily forget them, how you’re going to grow up and leave them in the dust, how you’ll eventually be consumed with the desire to escape from the hellish scroll and the “affectionate” curse within.

And you’ve never once failed to fall for it. Just as they had hoped. Each and every time, their plan has worked flawlessly.

This time, of course, is no different. You’re blinking back tears, on the verge of breaking down entirely, and the curse revels in every moment of it- the rush of power and joy that comes with the knowledge that you actually care about them.

That someone cares about them.

“Oh, my poor Squiggle… do you want me to take you to the swings again?”

The words are enough to make you jerk slightly, head lifting to stare at the curse with wet and wide eyes. It’s almost funny, how even in a moment as vulnerable as this, you’re still so eager and quick to respond to their hints of affection.

You had basically grown up in that little corner of the scroll, a little slice of history containing a quiet park, set on a cozy afternoon. Being “good” earned you visits there, a break from the monotony of traveling through the scroll and waiting for your guardian to finish punishing “sinners” as it found them before moving to the next section.

To be offered that trip again…

“Do you want a little break from all the heavy thinking?” It continues, shifting to hold you a little tighter. “A little break from being such a big, tough kid?”

(Kid. Are you a kid? You were at a stage between infant and toddler when you came, and it had been… how many years since then? How old were you?)

The curse watches carefully as you consider the offer. The promise of being taken outside for something as childish as a little swing session. It's a bribe like usual- a promise of something sweet in exchange for a little more manipulation of your emotions.

But they know how much you love the little park memory they set aside for you in the center of their little hell. And they know how effective it is at soothing your mood.

“…we can really… we’ll actually go back to that memory? Like we used to?”

The curse grins again, all traces of fake vulnerability gone from their expression. The tone of their voice is once again condescending, smug, and laced with a hint of mockery.

“Of course we can, Y/N. We’ll take a little trip to our old grounds, and I’ll try to forget all that cruel nonsense you were spouting.”

With a rictus grin, the ink demon offers you their pitch hand.

And, as always, you accept it.

[weatheredcopper]

nosy neighbors my beloveds <3

[naturallydark]

Scrybruary Week 1: Role Reversal/Swap

Beast!P03 and Death!Magnificus make friends with a dinosaur...and possibly each other. Original image: [x]

[its-stimsca]

can you make a stimboard of the unsettling white woman that is on your banner. shes trapped in the png :(

She is not trapped!! She loves it there!!! She will tell you herself!! I promise :))))

🔫 📱 🔫 / 📱 🔫 📱 / 🔫 📱 🔫