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#for me it is a nightmare to work with
a-s-levynn · 2 months
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@corviisquire You have no idea how much i love you for this creature design
Btw the gold parts and the tentacles are glossy and have a slight 3d effect, the scanner just can't pick it up
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critterbitter · 4 months
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Introducing! ELESA, the new kid on the block! She's a tiny bedraggled child from Sinnoh and not all that familiar with Galarian, the spoken language in Unova. (One day she'll be amazing. Right now though, she just wants to go play in the mud. And maybe get a better set of hearing aids.)
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When not bitterly lonely, she’s scheming to run back to her old home. Or chasing the local patrat. Or watching nervously from the sidelines as other children play on the swings. Oh elesa. (loosely inspired by @/noxstrages' incredible comics about elesa's origins! Ty for the food.)
Masterpost to my submas comics!
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elbdot · 6 months
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WOW Gladion, very reliable, love that we finally got through to you, fwiends forever am I right 🫠
WE'RE BACK with a MEGA UPLOAD that was too big for one post so I had to part it in two, see you guys in a week with the second part (and the Webtoons update!) OR you can read the whole thing on my Patreon early! 👍
Patreon - And thank you guys so much for your patience for this update!! :D ☺️💖 It took AGES because of the backgrounds...
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botanyshitposts · 2 years
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ok this sounds insane but in 2018 i went to a few carnivorous plant talks at the botany conference in minnesota. i got caught up in conversation with one of the guys there who was a huge nepenthes guy who told me a story about another collector in the pacific northwest who'd been buying poached plants, like a huge amount, and eventually got staked out by the fish and wildlife service and arrested and had all his plants seized and went to prison for it. idk if i ever talked about this on this blog before-- i know i liveblogged a lot from that conference but cant remember what all i posted-- but ive avoided talking about it since then because i was never able to find like, news articles or anything covering it, but behold.... we now have proof it was real, and im like 80% sure this was this guy he was talking about. the raid happened in 2016 and they'd been staking them out since 2013. he had nearly 400 plants and had been sourcing many of them from poachers in indonesia and borneo.
remember folks: poaching happens with plants too! it's a huge problem not only in carnvirous plants (nepenthes especially, which this piece is dedicated to talking about) but also in native plant populations in the US, including native carnivorous plant populations (north and south carolina's venus fly traps, california's darlingtonia, and sarracenia from the east coast), native orchids (historically one of the most poached categories), desert plants/cacti/succulents, and slow-growing woody ornamentals (cycads, for example). never buy bare-root plants off ebay or facebook! your best bet is local nurseries (which usually purchase farm-raised plants that do well in a wide range of conditions, and as a result have a healthy population in the wild) or specialty greenhouses (more expensive, but at least in the case of carnivorous plants offer young plants bred from established adult plants in-house, raised in captivity).
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greenglowinspooks · 6 months
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(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (Pt. 4)
Tw: descriptions of body horror, Dr. Crane has PTSD and Does Not Realize, Crane has an actual panic attack and just doesn’t care, the Riddler makes one (1) sex joke about Batman
Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually
(Pt. 1 here) (Prev here) - (Pt. 5 here)
(Masterlist here)
Dr. Jonathan Crane is in his lab, the acrid scent of chemicals filling the air, and his hands are shaking.
Danny’s health, for the first week that he had him, had been steadily improving at an extremely quick rate. However, his healing had begun to stagnate. Danny said that it was because his body had run out of ectoplasm, and that while there was a lot of ambient ectoplasm in Gotham, he needed a stronger type in order to heal.
And so, that led Dr. Crane here.
He had stolen the research notes from the Penguin years ago regarding his experimentation on him.
(He quite vividly remembers the sound of bone creaking and groaning as it twisted, lengthened. The squelching of shifting tendons and muscles, the strange fabric-like tightening of skin. The feeling of going from man to monster, of losing all claim to his humanity.)
Danny had called him Liminal, part ghost. He had said that he was transformed by, among other things, a kind of synthetic ectoplasm.
Danny needed ectoplasm.
Crane had the research notes. He had every ingredient necessary. And yet, attempt after attempt failed.
The chemical smell burns his nose. His hands tremble.
Dr. Crane is not afraid.
He doesn’t feel fear anymore. He’s tried to, many, many times, but nothing has worked. And yet, his hands are shaking still.
(The horrifying sensation of vertebrae pop-pop-popping along his spine, growing and lengthening. The unbearable itching beneath his skin as toxin glands begin to form. The feeling of his teeth sharpening and elongating, of his skull growing, of his vision changing and brightening. The awful stench of chemicals. The awful stench of ectoplasm.)
Jonathan takes careful note of his shaking hands, his blurring vision, his accelerated heart-rate and shallow breathing.
(Human hands. Human vision. Human heart and lungs and organs.)
He takes note of them, but he does not let that distract him from the task at hand. Danny is not a chemist, but Jonathan is.
The boy knows enough about chemistry in theory, but he won’t go anywhere near Crane’s equipment. He seems to have some sort of intense fear of laboratory settings, probably developed during his stay with the GiW, and Crane is willing to respect that, if only because he cannot afford to lose him.
As such, Crane is the only one qualified to do this. And, unfortunately, if he isn’t successful the boy may very well die.
He heats the chemicals to precisely the right temperatures, adding each one to its correct container.
Dr. Crane thinks of the Scarebeast, that creature born of cruelty and greed and a sense of superiority. That creature which he tries to ignore is a part of him, that can never be removed. A damage which cannot be undone.
He pours the contents of a small beaker into a larger flask, watching the liquids swirl together. The stench in the air is becoming closer and closer to the one burned into his memory.
Crane’s whole body is wracked with unpleasant sensations. It’s truly unfortunate, he thinks, that despite his mind’s lack of fear, his body still reacts so harshly.
Jonathan’s eyes wander, eventually settling on a purple and green card sitting innocently on the corner of the table.
Right.
Even if they wiped out the GiW tomorrow, and even if Danny could survive without ectoplasm, he would still be in danger.
Crane has to get him back to good health. It’s the only way he can be sure that the boy can defend himself properly.
The solution in the flask begins to foam, and Jonathan does not hesitate as he adds the final ingredient. He pours the mixture into a new container, capping it and placing it into a freezer set to -40 degrees.
Hopefully this time he got the timing right.
Jonathan tries to relax, the ventilation in the room slowly but surely clearing the familiar smell from the air.
He thinks of the letter.
Surely, he thinks, that man can come up with some better material for his jokes. Or, at least something new.
Same old threats, same old attempted poisoning.
Aiming his threats at Danny, though, that was new. New and utterly unacceptable.
Scarecrow did what he had to.
He doubted that his solution would last forever, of course, as with that man it never did. As such, he would prepare both himself and Danny for the inevitable moment that his choices came back to bite them.
However, for the moment, they were safe. Danny could rest and recover, and Jonathan could figure out a plan to minimize possible damages.
Jonathan is no longer shaking.
He’s exhausted. This is his fifth attempt today, and each one leaves an unfortunate strain on his mind and body.
With a sigh, he settles himself into his seat at a nearby desk, opening up his computer and logging his most recent attempt. He still has to wait for it to chill to know if it was successful, but he can always update the logs later.
Once he’s done, he stretches, joints popping loudly as he walks to the freezer.
When he sees the results of his tireless work, the ghost of a smile flits across his face.
Success.
Jonathan picks up the jug of ectoplasm and leaves the lab, which is in all actuality the basement of the new apartment that he moved himself and Danny into after receiving the note. The scrappy old woman who was his landlord had told him that as long as he paid her five hundred dollars up front, she would let him set up in the basement without any questions or cop calls.
And so, the most expensive apartment in the Narrows was his.
At least, he thought, the distance between the basement and the apartment was short enough that Danny didn’t have to sit in while he was doing his labwork.
Jonathan knew that he didn’t exactly have a strong grasp on the concept of ‘lab safety,’ proven by his built-up immunity to almost every toxic chemical he’d ever encountered, and he doubted that Danny should be around such an environment.
He was back to the apartment quickly, not bothering to hide the self-satisfied smile on his face. Danny is sitting in his armchair, trying to read one of his books. Danny looks up, ready to greet him, when he sees the jug in his hands and pauses.
“Is that..?”
“Synthetic ectoplasm,” Jonathan says proudly, “I found the Penguin’s research notes and decided to recreate it, since you said that you needed it to heal properly. I’m not sure if it’ll work the same as what you usually have, but I hope it’s helpful all the same.”
Danny is standing, now, and looking at Jonathan with a strange look in his eyes. He looks, Jon thinks, like he’s about to cry.
Then Danny is rushing forward and wrapping his arms around Jonathan, his scrawny form shaking.
Jonathan is, for a moment, horrified. Did he do something wrong somehow? Why is this child, who’s so afraid of touch, hugging him?
And then he hears Danny’s voice, and he knows that it was all worth it.
“Thank you,” he’s mumbling, over and over, “thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you so much.”
“Of course,” Jonathan says softly, because what else can he say?
The boy cries in his arms for a while, and Jonathan briefly wonders what his life must have been like before, if a person like him can be seen as a comforting figure.
Then, Danny pours himself a small glass of the synthetic ectoplasm, putting the rest into the small fridge which had come with the apartment, and he settles back down, sitting in the armchair once again.
Jonathan sits opposite of him, and they chat with one another as Danny drinks.
Danny talks to him about the stars and tells him about different spaceships, and Jonathan makes sure to pay attention and ask the boy questions.
He doesn’t miss the way that Danny lights up every time he asks him something about his interests. He’s so passionate, so smart, a trait that he seldom sees outside of his fellow rogues, and Jonathan wants to encourage that.
It’s…nice. Peaceful, almost.
And then the front door flies open, because Jonathan isn’t allowed to have nice things.
“Jon,” a familiar voice rings out, “what the hell?!”
Danny is frozen in place, clearly terrified.
Jonathan heaves a sigh, turning to face the nuisance who’s entered his apartment.
“Eddie,” he drawls, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”
Edward’s face is red with anger as he invades Jonathan’s apartment.
“Oh, I don’t know! Maybe it’s the fact that you sent a bunch of rogues a cryptic message and then dropped off the face of the earth for two weeks! I was worried, Jon!”
Jonathan hums in acknowledgement.
“I didn’t think it was that cryptic,” he says, picking up a book in order to pointedly ignore the Riddler.
“Oh, of course you didn’t, you straw-stuffed hickory dickory dickhead. I swear, you’re always—” he pauses, finally having noticed Danny sitting opposite of Jonathan, “—who is this?”
“My apprentice,” Jonathan replies, dreading the upcoming headache he was no doubt going to develop from Edward’s company, “he’s helping me hunt down the GiW. His name is Danny.”
Edward gasps dramatically.
“You—an apprentice?! And you’re letting him sit in the old man chair?! You don’t even let me sit in the old man chair,” he wails, draping himself over the headrest of the couch with a flourish, “Jonathan, I thought I knew you!”
“Edward,” Jonathan says, “get out of my apartment.”
“Oh my goodness, this is incredible. You’re becoming the bat!”
“I am not becoming the bat, Eddie, now get out.”
Edward has a shit-eating grin on his face as he waltzes over to Danny. Danny, who seemed terrified when he first appeared, is now looking at him with obvious amusement written all over his face.
“I mean, look at him! The hair, the eyes, the scrappy build. If you put him in one of those traffic light vigilante costumes, he could easily pass as a Robin!”
“I’m not doing this with you today, Eddie.”
“Riddle me this, Jon: I am a treasure hidden inside of a chest. You can break me, or steal me, or give me a rest. I can flutter, or pound, or attack, or drop, but if you don’t have me, you’re certainly fucked. What am I?”
Jonathan pauses for a moment before he groans, dropping his head into his hands.
“Eddie.”
Danny sits still, a confused look on his face as he repeats the riddle silently. Then, his face lights up in delight.
“A heart!”
“Jon, I like this one,” Edward says with a smile, ruffling Danny’s hair, “you are correct! A heart, something that I wasn’t aware that our dear Jonathan had!”
“Eddie, stop.”
“No, no,” Edward says, “I was worried about you, you deserve this. I mean, you even missed girls night! You never miss girls night!”
“Girls night?” Danny asks, absolutely delighted.
“Oh, of course,” Edward says, sprawling over on the couch, dangerously close to just laying in Jonathan’s lap, “we have it once a week. I’m invited because of Selina and Jon’s invited because Harley likes him.”
“And what does girls night entail, exactly?”
“Eddie,” Jonathan groans, “please.”
“Well,” Edward hums, “we usually paint our nails, or watch a movie, or gossip about the other rogues, and occasionally, we tell each other about any ‘encounters’ we have with Batman,” he says, raising his eyebrows up and down.
Danny’s jaw drops.
“Edward, shut up,” Jonathan says, an irritated tone in his voice that wasn’t there before.
“No way,” Danny says, “I thought that Batman, like, hated you guys or something. You mean he actually..?”
“Oh, the Bat is much like a bottle of liquor or a cheap cigarette, in that he was made to be passed around.”
Danny chokes on air.
“Edward Nygma,” Jonathan hisses, getting out of his seat and looming over the man, “get the hell out.”
Edward pales.
“Leaving, leaving!” Edward says, dashing away from Jonathan. He pauses, turning to flash Danny a quick smile.
“Remember Danny, I’m your favorite uncle! Not any of the other rogues, me!”
With that, he leaves, the room falling completely silent.
And, as per usual, that silence does not last.
“You full-named him?” Danny asks gleefully, “and it worked?”
Jonathan just sighs, sitting down on the couch and rubbing at his temples.
“Please, don’t take anything Eddie says seriously. He’s a moron.”
“Dr. Crane, please let me come to girls night with you,” Danny pleads, his eyes sparkling, “I promise I won’t embarrass you.”
Jonathan groans.
“Of course you won’t, Eddie will do it for you.”
“Come on, please?”
“I think we’re a bit busy with the GiW at the moment,” Jonathan snaps. He pauses as he notices the crestfallen expression on Danny’s face.
This boy is going to be the death of him.
“Perhaps, though, when all that is taken care of…”
Danny cheers, grinning wildly, and Jonathan is not at all relieved to see him happy again. Certainly not.
The rest of the day is relatively normal.
Danny works on trying to get information from the GiW database while Crane refines his his fear toxin, both preparing for a raid on the GiW base they located in Gotham.
It was only a temporary base, nothing of note, but there was a chance of discovering more bases through it, and that wasn’t something either of them were willing to give up.
Still, something like this would take time. Rushing would only lead to failure.
Late in the night, long after Danny is fast asleep in his room, Jonathan pauses.
The GiW are not the only threat out there. They aren’t the only threat to him or to Danny. Perhaps it could be helpful to reach out to someone with greater resources than himself.
He sends a quick message to Red Hood.
Hopefully, he thinks, everything will go smoothly.
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becca-e-barnes · 8 months
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Imagine being stepdad Bucky’s dirty little secret😩🤫
I've been listening to 'Bad Man' by FIGHTMASTER and it's inspired some filthy fantasies that would fit stepdad Bucky perfectly 🤤
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I have so much I'd like to talk about but I'll start with how hot it would be to have him catch you playing with a toy when you think no one is home. Especially if you'd already been sleeping together but maybe you decided to stop when you got a new boyfriend.
You were so sure the house was empty, you didn't even think twice about slipping your vibrator from it's hiding spot. With your earphones in, you hadn't heard the footsteps down the hallway towards your bedroom. You didn't notice that your door wasn't closed tight either. All that mattered was the delightful buzzing of the toy against your clit, your hand squeezing your own breasts and the flithy thoughts that inspired you to touch yourself.
Fuck, this was a show for Bucky. He hadn't meant to invade your privacy but he wasn't quite sure how to look away. The memory of you writhing in pleasure kept him up at night but now he's getting to see it up close again.
"You really ought to close your door if you're going to do that, sweetheart." You miss the first half of what he said because you weren't able to take your earphones out fast enough, choosing instead to cover yourself.
Bucky only rolls his eyes. "No point covering up, honey. Did you forget I've kissed, licked or bitten pretty much every inch of you already?" There's an overwhelming cockiness in his tone and it makes knots twist in your stomach.
"Look, if that new guy you're dating can't take care of you, you only had to tell me." He steps inside and closes the door behind him and you swear he hasn't taken his eyes off you yet. "I'm not surprised he's not enough for you. I bet he's selfish, isn't he. He doesn't think about you. He won't take the time to learn what you like. He can't make your thighs shake the way I do."
His stare is intense but when you look away, he catches under your chin with two fingers, redirecting your line of sight back to him.
"You don't need to be shy." His voice is soothing, his hand creeping under the sheets and you don't make any effort to stop him from finding what he's looking for. He trails his fingers up your thigh, groaning softly when his fingertips reach the slick, messy folds of your sex.
"We shouldn't do this..." You protest feebly but that only makes him laugh.
"You're right. We shouldn't. So tell me why you're grinding yourself against my fingers like you're in heat." It's humiliating but he's got a point. "If he's not taking care of you, I'll have to remind you how sex is supposed to feel." Two of his thick, long fingers glide into your eager body and you feel him hook them inside you exactly how you always loved.
"You don't know how many times I've stroked my cock and tried to remember exactly what this little cunt feels like. I’ve tried to remember the way you squeeze me when you're cumming. Nothing feels like you do. Your body is a fucking luxury." He's losing his self control far faster than he wants to.
"Get on your hands and knees." It's an order you only start to respond to when he slips his fingers out of you and you reposition yourself in front of him. He tugs his zipper down, freeing himself from his underwear, giving his cock a few firm strokes before lining it up with your entrance.
"Oh sweetheart, it's been a while." He groans, pressing just the tip into you at first.
"Feels so fucking good." You babble, pressing yourself back on him, encouraging him to inch into your body. You haven't felt this blissed out in months and he's only getting started. You knew this wouldn't last. There was no way you'd be able to turn down the one man who truly knows your body. He understands your needs in a way no one else has ever even tried to. Maybe it's the age difference or the extra experience he's got but this man really understands your pleasure.
"Fuck, it does, doesn't it?" He laughs, pressing the rest of the way into you and giving you a couple of sharp, half thrusts.
It's not long before he's established a good rhythm, his cock slipping in and out of you while he reaches around you to rub your clit. You feel him kissing the back of your neck, groaning against your skin that he missed your body, up until a faint buzzing sound makes him pause.
At first you'd thought your vibrator switched back on but then you notice your phone screen illuminated on the sheets beside you and your boyfriend's face filling the screen.
"Answer it." Bucky demands, resuming his thrusts at the same pace as before. "I want you to answer it. Tell him what we're doing. Or hide it from him. It's up to you."
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muffinlance · 2 months
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Do you get the impression the live action is treating us like utter morons?? Like I thought that making it aimed at an older audience would open the doors for more subtle story telling, but no, they're just using monologues to tell us eveything! Like in the second episode Katara's like 'oh his power isn't that he's the avatar, it's that he ~connects~ to people'. Girl we're not idiots we can see that!! And the first episode with Aang's goddawful 'I don't want this responsibility' monologue
THIS, YES. The word that keeps coming to mind is definitely "subtlety". The show for literal children? Had it. The remake for adults? Not so much.
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yourlocalabomination · 5 months
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God gave me Procreate Dreams and a vision.
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payasita · 5 months
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Do you have any more slay the princess art? Obsessed with it now and I really like the doodles you’ve shown before 🫶🫶 I like your design of the bird guy a lot
OH I DO ACTUALLY
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nothing finished yet but hey
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franeridart · 5 months
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The Housecat Philosophy - Ep 37
Ep 00 || < Prev || Next >
Read the next four episodes on Patreon || support me on ko-fi~✨
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kristybluebird · 15 days
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All things will fade, maybe it's better off that way; I wish you'd stay with me.
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lazylittledragon · 1 year
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i promised a stobin angst au and here we are <3
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How You Turn My World; Chapter 4
You finally find your way into the labyrinth, coming across some new and old faces; both friendly and malicious.
Character; Lilia Vanrouge
Content; Gender-neutral reader, reader is getting tired of being stuck here and smelling like a bog
Content Warnings; Swearing, some talk of death, reader passes out
Word Count; 2.2 K
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |
As per usual, don't put my work into AI.
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You were finally making some decent progress, what, with not being stuck in some bog and knowing somewhat of where you were going. A vast improvement really! Well, it would be, but unfortunately, you still reeked of rotten eggs and skunk — apparently the bog stench only got worse the longer it stayed on.
“Why did it have to dump me into the swamp,” you huffed, rounding yet another corner. “Like, it could have dumped me beside the water, but, no, no, let’s dump the magicless human right into the putrid bog water! A good guffaw, don’t you think? Ha ha ha HA!”
At least your au de Bog of Eternal Stench kept any would-be assailants away since you hadn’t run into anything (besides a rose bush, ouch) since you started making your way through the labyrinth. So maybe it wasn’t all that bad… damn, maybe your sense of smell was just used to it… hey, if stink helps you not die, then you would gladly stay stinky! Well, bitterly stay stinky is more like it.
“Assholes,” you muttered, rounding another corner. 
But it wasn’t a corner; it was a crossroad. Three paths merged off of the one you were on.
… aren’t labyrinths just one long line? THIS IS A FUCKING MAZE?! You groaned, looking at your possible options which all looked exactly the same.
Decisions, decisions, decisions. Of course nothing is easy here, no no no! Gotta make things difficult now.
The hedge behind you rustled, and you whipped around, getting into a stance where you could either land a pretty good sucker punch to the hedge-stalker or make a mad dash away. But out of the hedge crawled out a small, fuzzy, caterpillar. And back at home you would have thought it was cute, but you learned your lesson from the doors; don’t trust it, or anyone for that matter.
You looked down at the caterpillar, and the caterpillar looked up at you, blinking slowly. 
What are the chances… 
“Do you know a way out,” you asked the caterpillar, crouching down so that you didn’t tower over it.
The caterpillar blinked at you again (apparently caterpillars in the Underground have eyelids, which isn’t the weirdest thing considering everything). “No,” it chirped and continued crawling on its merry way, wherever that may be. “But you’ll find the way.” And it disappeared into the growth of the maze, humming a little tune to itself.
You sighed, and pushed yourself back up, straightening out your shoulders and looking up to the sky. “I’ll find a way,” you breathed, looking up at the cloudless sky which was starting to turn a brilliant amber with the setting sun. “I might want to find a way is more like it.”
You looked back down to the ground, looking at the three paths in front of you. They all look the same, save for the ground making up paths themselves, with the middle and right paths looking well worn with travel. And while they may be well worn, there was a voice at the back of your head that was whispering caution. The left-most path was not as well travelled, with dead vines covering parts of it.
“Hopefully you’re right, little buddy since I could use all the luck I can get.” And you made your way down the path, hoping that it was the correct one and didn’t lead you to your death or some other unpleasant thing.
Lilia was at the entrance of the labyrinth, in front of the two doors.
“Have you seen a human, about this tall, a bit of a temper, and smelling foul,” he asked the doors.
The doors looked at each other before looking at Lilia. “And what’s it to you,” they said in unison.
Lilia smiled, but it was one of mild annoyance, not joy or amusement. “Royal orders I fear. You wouldn’t want the mistress finding out about you both tampering with a royal matter, would you?” The smile turned cat-like since Lilia had backed them into a corner.
The doors paled, with the blue door speaking up. “No no, sir! We would never dream of such a thing!!! Yes, there was a human, a wretched one at that, horribly rude!”
Lilia hummed, cocking a brow at the door. “I do think wretched is a bit of an overstatement now,” he whispered to himself. “Well, tell me where about they are then. The sooner I can collect them, the better for you lot.”
The red door sighed, “Near the heart of it, they took the left path.”
Left path? Why the left path leads to… Shit. Lilia mentally groaned, knowing that regardless of the path you took, you would end up having to deal with them eventually. “Your cooperation has been noted,” is what he said though, giving the doors both a nod before turning into a bat and flying over the labyrinth, trying to find you before you ran into whoever them was.
“Please be clever enough not to die,” he whispered to no one, hoping that he didn’t have to deliver your body to the Queen.
The left path brought you to what looked like a forest; with old-growth trees, ferns and moss covering the ground, and a list mist hanging in the air. It was peaceful and beautiful, with the setting sun illuminating the mist without burning it away.
But that would not last, night was fast approaching and you had nothing to protect you this time; no rowan tree to haul your ass up, and no sort of weapon to protect yourself besides the oh-so-lovely smell of the bog to deter something from eating you. You were pretty sure it would also keep away anything that wanted to otherwise snatch you up.
“AH!” Something jumped out from a tree, and you couldn’t fully register what it was since you were also screeching, much like the creature was at you; you with fright, the creature with amusement and joy.
Two other creatures jumped out from behind the trees and startled cackling, jumping, and clapping. Together, they surrounded you, with no way to really escape them without fighting through.
… you really should have read about fae species, since you didn’t know what they exactly were, or how dangerous they were either. 
One pulled you near a pit and lit a fire, cackling in glee and dancing, trying to get you to join them. “Ah come on, human, have some fun! DANCE BABEY!!!!”
But you stayed still as more creatures came out of the shadows, dancing around the fire, giggling, cackling, and pulling a bit at your clothes to prompt you to join them. You didn’t know, cementing your feet down, your eyes watching their movements with caution.
‘Should you dance with the fae, you shall not stop dancing until you exhaust yourself. And once you wake up, you will continue dancing. This cycle will repeat itself until you dance to death.’ 
At least that was what the book said, and so you stayed still, regardless of how much the creatures pulled at you. While it looked like a grand old time, you remained where you were.
“I don’t have time for dancing,” you answered coldly, flinching from pinching fingers. You were also a bit shocked that Eau de Bog of Eternal Stench wasn’t keeping them away. Either, they couldn’t smell, or, they didn’t care that you smelled downright awful. “So this ‘baby’ won’t dance.”
And should I be offended by you calling me ‘baby’ or am I reading too much into it?
The main creature just shrugged and spun its dancing partner around. “Your loss human! More fun for us then! YIPPEE!!!” And it threw something in the fire to where you could feel the heat on your face.
What now? You were just standing there awkwardly as the creatures danced about, singing something that you couldn’t really make out. All you knew was that the heat, noise, and the dizzying dance of them was making your head pound, and throat scream in thirst. You hadn’t drank anything for over a day(?) — no, bog water did not count — and the heat from the fire made the thirst only worse. Shit.
“Ah, you don’t look too… hot there human,” one of the creatures snickered at its own joke at your expense. “Maybe if you dance with us, loosen up and have a bit of fun, then you can have a drink? Hmm? Dancing won’t kill you!” But its failed attempts at covering up its own malicious giggles were more than enough to stand your ground… which was coming at you quite fast since you practically collapsed.
Was it the thirst? The pounding migraine that wanted nothing more than to crawl into some dark hole and hide? Or your exhaustion from making that tiring trek, crawling yourself out of the bog and making the trek again, or the hours you had spent wandering around the maze with no real idea of where you were going? All you really knew was that you were now on the ground with the creatures poking at you to see if you were still alive.
“Aw, man! Are they already dead? That’s no fun!” One of the creatures pouted, raising up your arm, and you let it plop back to the ground. “Come on human! Get up! You’re not a party pooper are you?”
Scre you buddy! Can’t you read the situation?!
You were trying your best to stay quiet, which wasn’t all that hard, since all of your energy was gone. 
“They best not be,” a familiar voice called out.
From your position, you couldn’t see who it was, but you could make out the creatures jumping away from you like you were the hot fire instead of the fire pit. But someone else was approaching until you could make out a pair of shoes in front of your face.
They crouched down beside you, placing their fingers gently at the base of your throat; taking your pulse. “Hmph, playing dead, are we, Beastie?”
That irritating chuckle. The annoying nickname. Those mischievous magenta eyes that now looked at you with curiosity and amusement.
It was him — Mr. Sparkles.
And he had just blown your act of playing possum (well, not really, since you had actually collapsed).
But you didn’t say anything, instead favouring to give him a dirty look. Yet he just shook his head in jest, and proceeded to pick you up and wrap you around his shoulders and neck like some sort of bizarre ermine pelt; better than being carried like a sack of potatoes or the bridal carry you supposed.
“Her majesty sends her regards for not turning or killing her guest,” Lilia offered the creatures. It would be such a waste and pity to see such an entertaining Beastie leave us too soon now. “But do know she won’t take to their condition lightly.”
My condition? I’m not some Victorian child with some unknown illness wreaking havoc on their body you know?! But all that you did was groan and cough. You couldn’t even cough in Mr. Sparkles’ (Lilia’s) face, since you had a lovely view of the moss-covered ground and the fae’s shoes.
He patted the back of your calves, and you would have kicked him if you had more energy, but you didn’t. “Now, we really should be off, since Beastie has… an hour to get out of this maze before they turn into some sort of worm, or a hedge; never know what this old labyrinth will decide on really.” Lilia chuckled at the thought (was it merriment, or was he happy that you weren’t joining the caterpillar you met earlier?).
“No,” you wheezed. “WoRm!”
“See! They said it themself! No worm! How lovely that we are on a similar wavelength, Beastie! Marvellous even!” Lilia exclaimed, and the both of you started levitating off of the ground. “Now, do enjoy your party, Fireys!”
The creatures (Fireys apparently) groaned but got back to their party, dancing around the fire like they didn’t just try to lure you to your death mere minutes before.
“Tsk tsk, Beastie,” Lilia’s tutting brought your attention back to him and you grumbled. “You owe me two favours now, you know. Lucky that I found you… although that part wasn’t hard. I thought you learned your lesson the first time you decided to take a dip into the Bog of Eternal Stench?”
You lightly kicked him, letting your irritation be known, but Lilia just hummed. “Now now, no need to be like that! Do you want to smell like a bog when you meet the mistress? She wouldn’t take kindly to your… unique aroma.”
You hissed out a breath since he decided to pinch at your ear rather harshly — prompting for you to answer. “No,” you whispered hoarsely.
“Also, do read up on that book, since you will want to know about the government and fae species etiquette!”
From a smelly bog and fumbling around a maze for hours on end, to finding yourself being taken to fae high society… was it too late to become some worm in the maze? I think being a worm actually has a better chance of me living.
But sadly, you were saved from an eternity of being a worm. Hopefully, Mr. Sparkles (Lilia) would cover for your blunders a little for when you found yourself in front of ‘the mistress’.
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To be continued!
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saltedbiscuiit · 9 days
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Dazai’s worst nightmare ♡
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what could he do? Should've been a rockstar
I've been listening to this on repeat and couldn't get my mind off tim, I had to draw just a little thing with him
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lanlishiba · 1 year
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fun tips with Nightmare
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