#Is it salt or cyanide

[bluejayscrying]

Jason decides not to go batshit insane on Tim and instead starts subtly and occasionally trying to kill him.

Tim, tired: I’m hungry…make me food? It tastes special when you make it…

Jason, who as been adding poison to his food for the past week: that’s because I make it with love <3

[trashcanwithsprinkles]

someone in the comments said they wanted to see the adepti mentioned for the attack on celestia, so here’s the crew

[sailforvalinor]

Joker and Ace: Jester’s Privilege Chapter 4, a summary:

[forestberriezz]

it's now law in romania for restaurant owners to list all the additives they're using in the food!!🎊🎉

[i-must-feel]

When I am angry I want other people to see it as real for once. I don’t want someone to just laugh and call me an angry *insert physical trait here* woman. At least I’m a woman and not a girl but I want to be angry in a way that isn’t a shrill harpy’s shriek, but actually bloody gruesome rage. I want to choose things I want to be the murder not the victim. I want to be something, anything, as long as it’s not the mistress or the angry wife or the virgin or the prude. I want to be real. I want to be ugly and disgusting and gruesome I don’t want any of it to ever be an aesthetic. I want to be real and not a concept.

[ugh-yoongi]

hi! would it be alright if i asked what your favorite namjoon fics are? thank you and have a great day 💗🥹

hello nonnie, it is always okay to ask me for fic recs! <3

most of these works contain mature themes/content. please heed tags and do not engage with any explicit work if you are a minor!

i know there are a bunch i've forgotten, so please reblog and share your own work and your faves!

also, please note: there are a lot of fics on these lists that are posted to ao3. it has recently come out that a volunteer was removed from their position for being pro-palestine (you can find the twt thread here). i am in the process of looking for a better alternative, but until then, it is unfortunately probably the best way to share these stories. while i personally won't be posting to or reading on ao3 for the time being, how you choose to engage going forward is completely up to you! i just wanted to make sure i was being transparent.

namjoon x reader

anything by @effortandmore

anything by @hamsterclaw

anything by @miscelunaaa

1-year anniversary by @johobi

omerta by @anotherbtswriter

hammer it home series by @gukslut

hey, it's me & leave no trace behind by @yoongiphoria

love bytes by @stutterfly

real magic & park and ride by @here2bbtstrash

house of cards & guilty by @xjoonchildx

lacuna by @eoieopda

dream team by @bangtanintotheroom (feat. hobi)

cyanide on my bedsheets by @jimilter

laundry day by @snackhobi

bloom by @hobidreams

the snow globe effect by @gukyi

you've got a friend in me by @wwilloww

pronoia by @junghelioseok

limbo by @beahae

love hard by @raplinesmoon

swiss miss by @here4kpopfics (feat. seokjin)

my feet to follow, and my heart to hold by @daechwitatamic

a fine line by @moni-logues

roommates with benefits

as always, mxm fics under the cut!

member x member

softer than steel (namseok)

frustrations in late foucault (namseok)

the universe needs more you (namseok)

in your atmosphere (namseok)

why don't you figure (my heart) out (namseok)

i'm on fire (rap line)

delta (rap line)

꽃꽂이. kkotkkoji (namjin)

you have 1 new message (namjin)

beta tau sigma (namjin)

white rabbit (namjin)

local dumbass idiot helps sexy criminal and then writes sad bird poems instead of just saying Yes Seokjin I Like You Too (namjin)

easy (namjin)

and they were roommates (namjin)

burn me like an ember (namjin)

the understood boundaries of self (namjin)

more walls (collected along the way) [namjin]

imprints & magnitude (namjin)

salt water (namjinkook)

disgruntledofficebrat [active] (namkook)

you can leave the cape on (namkook)

108 degrees (namkook)

the whole of the moon (namkook)

travelogue with a frat boy (namkook)

it's a color that i can't describe (namkook)

how much to give and how much to take (namkook)

the courage of stars (namkook)

come take it (if you want a piece of me) [namkook]

a feel so sweet (namgikook)

objects in mirror are closer than they appear (namgi)

green carnation (namgi)

the added bonus (namgi)

tear you apart (namgi)

different when i'm with you (namgi)

adrift (namgi)

i'll fuck you if you let me, baby (namgi)

sleepless in (namgi)

恋の予感 (namgi)

take it or leave it (namgi)

baby, but we will (namgi)

verified amateurs [online now] (namgi)

cyrano more like cyraNO (namgi)

record it for later (namgi)

into the red morning (taejoon)

don't call it love (taejoon)

i am red with love (taejoon)

the bad thing (minimoni)

you were more than just light (minimoni)

wish we'd fall in love (minimoni)

but i want it anyway (minimoni)

[spurbleu]

mouth, reprieves ♛︎

[ken sato x afab reader]

S. Ken Sato is a bitter loser. And you are patient- if not a little giving.

warnings: mdni, blowjob

word count: 2k

࿓༚︎︎‧⁎︎✳︎⁎︎‧︎༚︎࿓︎

A pity bloated between your lungs.

The loss wasn’t significant, only by a point. But you supposed that’s what made it sting - the stain of ‘so close’ and ‘almost’ near wicked in the grooves of the bat hold, or the home plate- plastic patched in rifts of dust and dirt (hard to swallow, all of it). Its grief was visible- slumped shoulders and buckling knees stuck to the grime on their uniforms, the announcer’s voice coming in- static and lame.

“And that is a wrap for the Giants 3rd game of the season. First loss this year- what does it mean for the future?”

It rattled the stadium- the echoing disappointment. It folded in the gaps of the chairs, salting the air in a bitter, frustrated sigh. You were unsure if you wanted to join the chorus or curse it.

The memories seeped through- distinct. The pull of his lips when they met yours. The twitch of his knuckles when he held his liquor. His light heels after his last physical therapy session (when magnified- wings. Stamped on the bone of his ankle- fluttering- impatient). The thrum of his snore, thick with anticipation- and expectations (never met).

Kenji’s first game of the season- a loss.

You didn’t take the frigidity personally. You knew the clouds in his iris, the roll of thunder from the back of his throat and off his tongue, was just an indication he cared. The breakage of his indifference, esteem cracking through its steel walls. He had learned to remove blame from his teammates- but as a result the weight on the breadth of his own shoulders grew immense.

It simmered- his insecurities. Boiling beneath the thin patches of skin where he slid on his knees- tender and spiteful. Drives home were borderline silent, aside from the heavy breath against his philtrum and the shifting of his shirt as you rubbed the tense muscles connecting his shoulders. Sometimes, it felt like talking to a wall- resistant to reassurance- as if the letters in ‘you did just fine’ and ‘I’m proud of you’  were venomous (fearful of the gentleness in cyanide).

But it was how he was. Equally as accepting of praise as he was averse to it. A paradox at home base.

You stood on the balls of your feet, swallowing dry air in timid gulps, watching the entrance to the locker room doors. Other wives and girlfriends- some children- and family members stood there in tense guilt- hands itching to embrace the men in a hug that promise ‘next time’.

Eventually, the belly of the stadium spit the players out, slick in its drooly chagrin.

There was a drop to the regular sharpness of his cheeks, ending at the base of his lips- dry and cracked. His hair stuck to his forehead- wet with outlines from the notches of his helmet- which was tucked under his arm (it looked more like a burden than a prize- its frequent glimmer dimmed by dust). The valley under his eyes a depressing shade of plum- his eyes dimmer yet festering.

But it was his brows that exposed the loss of immunity. Pleats in the center of his face, furrowing so low, that if you weren’t close enough, they would have looked joint with the shadow they caused.

When he found you amongst the hushed comfort, the rigidity in his shoulders collapsed into a softer word, striding towards you like a kid who broke a window (baseball myth, but maybe you’ll let him live in it for now).

“H-“

He curled into in gap of your shoulder and your neck, arms lazily embracing the small of your back and pulling you into his chest. You felt the hairs of his brows sink deeper into your shoulder, his breath fanning on your collar bone.

Your hand came to fill its gaps with the tangle of his hair, palming his temples. This embrace was familiar- not because he lost often, but because you found it somewhere in every day. The mornings during breakfast, pillow talk under plains of insomnia, the after-sex glow. Touch tugged a heart string in you both, and although there was no proof, you swear you could feel his heart slow when it kissed yours.

(He made you a romantic, and even after years the shoe still feels too big)

You pull away, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. He didn’t kiss you back, but you didn’t mind. It was more of a reminder anyway- a way for you to say I’m here.

“Let’s go home.”

▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎▁︎

Looking from a doorway in the movies always appears more tranquil than it actually is.

There is nothing peaceful about watching your partner blister under their own defeat. The bounce of his knee, a desperate attempt to relax the tension that mends his muscles to the bone. You, left in your own uncertainty, bit the bumpy flesh behind your bottom lip, legs flinching with the impulse to do.  

Comfort, rally, motivate. Your mind searched for a better plan of action in the rise and fall of his shoulders, as he scrutinized the recordings of the game in dim light under a magnifying glass (ants in summer heat).

The body talks. Yours was saying thousands of things at once- none resonating. Dry hands, calloused by hourglass sand and the gruff reality of your own exhaustion, would do nothing but stir him from his own brood then bring him deeper into it. Your mouth would say filtered words with little connotation, leaving you both in a spell that felt purposefully blundering.

Then a spark, somewhere lower than your hips. A blushing growth- spoke in deep tones of arousal and charity.

Alone, your hands and mouth proved useless.

But together…

You pushed yourself off the wide wall, shuffling over in your pajama set loud enough that he could hear you coming. He didn’t move, eyes still trained in silent remorse as he watched his tapes. Your heart dragged on the surface of your ribs- pity.

You came to stand in front of the television, reaching behind you and grabbing the remote before forcing his chin up with your other hand. His jaw rested on your curled fingers, vulnerable. His eyes looked burned at both ends, the wick of his iris without fire, or rebuttal.

You took a seat on his lap, wrapping your arms on his slumped shoulders. A beat, before he caved into you, pulling you into the crook of his hips. You molded into him, taking a moment to turn the television off, dowsing you both in a dark, somnolent ease.

You familiarized yourself with every version of this pose. In his lap, drowse eating at both of your guts, limbs pulling each other closer still. It wasn’t a planned routine- just comfortable. You’d heard the line ‘we were made for each other’ about a dozen times in different movies and books- and although you found it cliché- there was a truth to it.

Good love can be cliché. Done over and over because it feels right. Kenji- his arms and his heart- feel right to you and they always have.

(Again, he makes you a romantic).

“You were amazing today, baby.” You said into his ear. He huffed- but you took his grip on your thighs as encouragement.

You kissed his cheek, then his jaw, and with each purse of your lips you tried to make a point. “You are the best baseball player in the league,” you continued down to his neck, hands coming to rest on his collar bone, “one game doesn’t change that…”

You felt his throat rumble, and it took you a few kisses to realize he had spoken.

“Keep…going.”

Fuck.

It was embarrassing to be aroused when you’re supposed to be comforting someone, but God. The timbres of his voice, their effortless depth and coon, pleading you of all people to do more was enough to make you start riding his thigh.

You reminded yourself that tonight was about his pleasure, and your own would have to be on the back burner.

You slipped your hands under his shirt, cool flesh meeting his hot abdominal, twitching under your nails. You traced the shadows of his muscle, enjoying the mumble that shook his adams apple as you kissed under his jaw.

“You’re talented and everyone knows it,” down the dip between his collarbones, “you’ve carried the team and brought them together…” your hands made your way to his chest, where you could feel his heart beating under the grooves of your palm. Good. You tapped his shoulder from underneath his shirt, and he understood, immediately shedding the shirt and throwing it carelessly into the dark.

You continued down his stomach, sending occasionally glances up. His face was veiled in something rounder now- the earlier layers of woe and its harsh lines drawn by the furrow of his brow replaced by something a little more sanguine. It peaked from behind the whites of his eyes and glowed under the plush of his cheeks in a blooming pink.

You dragged your lips further down, navigating the narrow of his waist, “You’ve got a handsome face to match your wit,” you kissed the band of his sweats, before you curled the digits of your fingers over, peeling it back to reveal the near painful tent spring from the cotton of his boxers, “and…fuck your big…”

You swallowed, massaging the cusp of his cock, feeling as he curved his hips into your palm, a soft moan breaching the clench of his teeth. You looked up at him- beautiful in the light of his own rousing. His throat bobbled; words caught in his tonsils.

You didn’t need him to speak- you knew what they were.

You brought back to his boxers, cock slapping the underside of his stomach. He sucked a breath through his teeth above you- desperation in the discoloration of his bottom lip- bruised. The shroom cap was weeping your name in a pearl of pre-cum, which you massaged with your thumb. You slowly pumped his length in your hands, hand moving in slow, tight swells at the base of it.

You knew it well- you had felt it a dozen times over. The vein that crawled from its root on the right side- thick- spelling your name in morse. The deepened pink as it ran up to his tip, the glans warm in hot colors of desire. The velvet that patched its stiff underside was particularly memorized- molded in the walls of your cunt.

But there would always be that stutter in your breath- your body talking in haphazard beats- a need he fills to the brim. It wasn’t shock, it wasn’t admiration, but you settle for somewhere in between.

“You’re so strong- from your injury, to protecting the city,” if felt somewhat strange- authentic compliments paired with the pumping of his cock, the tip of his jaw and buck of his hips begged your fruition in low moans, “there is no other man like Kenji Sato…”

A gruff groan from the pit of his lungs made your own sex thrum with a familiar density, and you let a soft moan escape your own lips as you slipped them down his cock.

Hypoxia bloomed in the back of your throat- bright purple capturing oxygen. You let your maw clench and reel at the pressure- familiar but desperate for accommodation. Your breath came out in a single syllable against the base of him, nostrils flaring.

He moaned above you, the tremble of his ecstasy rolling down his shoulders and to the bridge of his cock, rattling your tonsils with an unflattering gag. His hands came to hold your hair, grip massaging the back of your scalp with a needy grip.

“Hah…shit…you’re too good to me…”

You bobbed your head in protest, tongue flattening to cup his front. Your fingers worked what your mouth couldn’t, fondling the sensitive bonds of his groin- slick in saliva. He let out a gruff growl, holding your head with a fatal grip- pushing you down to swallow more of him.

You held his thighs for balance you kneeled between them- tears pricking your eyes. You swear you feel him at the ends of your tongue as he rolled his hips into your mouth- hollowed cheeks to take the grit of him- avoiding grazing teeth.

You glanced up at him- met with the bend of his jaw- mouth open as he moaned your name like a mantra. It was so melodic- and for something so lewd it was sweet. Honied in the places that we were taught filthy- buried beneath the stickiness of arousal and sex was something warmer.

You sped up your pace- promising a song from him as you pushed your tongue to the roof of your mouth, tightening the plunge of your throat.

“Ohshit- fucking hell you feel so good baby…so good to me,” His ruts were becoming sloppy, breaking under the weight of his own overstimulation, “I’m gonna cum down that perfect mouth of yours…”

You loved him like this. Goo in your hands, the sharper edges of his jaw and his tongue softened when laid next to you. Saying your name like he’d forget it- hoping it brands into his flesh, maybe his bones. It brought your own weeping hole thrilling pleasure- the puff of your heart rapid.

Lost in rapture- the smaller moments and the forgotten words- somewhere in the craters of your bodies. You’d accepted it- becoming idyllic- eased into a life where love could mean so many things at once and all be right.

As in- the kiss goodnight is just as important as the blowjob after a loss.

You were made ugly- snot drippling down your lips in blunt weeps, tears wetting your lashes in asphyxiation. You were positive the round of your cheeks was rosed- glossed by the precum and spit that wetted your lips as you slipped up and down, tandem rhythm with his hips.

You could feel strands of your hair being ripped from the sensitivity of your scalp- his hands gripping hard enough it felt as though he’s trying to hold your skull. His moans were restless now, a wet and sickening chorus to the hymn of your nose hitting his stomach.

“Shit-shitshitshit oh fuck I’m cu-cummm uhmm…”

It painted the cave of your throat, the cap of your tongue, the roof of your mouth- ruthless. Filled your throat in hues of stress, lost to the compassion of your molars and the crest of your mouth. You could feel the excess ropes peel back the corners of your lips as it bubbled to meet his pelvis, which was still fucking your mouth in a noisy, orgasmic frenzy.

It slid from your fissure with a quiet pop, and you took his wrists, pulling them limply from your head as you stood, sitting back on his lap, softening cock resting behind your ass. You kissed his throat, feeling the shuddering breaths that fogged the air around you, catching his expression- knotted brows and tight nose- compressed in a vague expression of lust- and thanks.

You ran your fingers through his hair- kissing up to his ear, “I meant everything I said, earlier, y'know.”

You felt him nod shakily. “I know…sometimes I just like to hear you say it.”

You snorted- there he was. “Cocky bastard.”

He chucked, pulling you into his chest, smile soft against the indent of your shoulder. “Well, you had it down your throat.”

You pulled back, giving him his first real kiss of the night. Admittedly, it was to shut him up, but when he pulled you closer still, lips molding to yours in the way they always do, you both knew it was because you wanted to.

You pulled away, eyes opening to his face- lips pursed and eyes closed (adorably stupid, stupidly adorable- somewhere between the two) you laughed, pressing a kiss between his brows.

“Okay Mr. Romance let’s get you to bed.”

You began to slide off his waist before he pulled you back down, eyes open and revealing something much more earnest. The harsher edges of his face seemed to smooth over (rock eroded, calmed), and he leaned his head to your chin.

“Thank you.”

You sighed into his hair- deep down you wanted to say he didn’t need to thank you. But he had enough about him tonight.

“You’re welcome- my throat is going to be sore because of you.”

His head came up to meet yours, and you knew he was back when you saw his classic smirk pull at the corners of his lips. “Should I loosen it up again?”

You rolled your eyes, sliding off his waist before grabbing his hand and pulling him up. You wrapped your arms up to base of his shoulder blades and he returned the embrace, body molding to the shape of your front.

The sensitive part of you wanted to stay like this forever- pushing into him- held- safe. If you closed your eyes, you could, and somewhere in your forever you heard,

“I love you.”

[chemblrish]

Chemistry video recs!!

Okay so here's a new ~project~ of mine (we'll see how long I can stick to it whoops): every once in a while I want to make a compilation of cool chemistry videos. I also want to keep it strictly chemistry-related (as much as that's possible... and I don't promise to be totally objective lol*). I watch a lot of science videos in general, but the way I see it, chemistry just doesn't get enough hype. Physics and biology can fend for themselves, they're very popular. Chemistry is notoriously underappreciated and overlooked, and it makes me sad.

So! Here are some great chemistry videos I've watched recently.

Under 15 minutes:

How does evaporation REALLY work?

Making Singlet Oxygen

Technetium chemistry - synthesis of Lanthanide Pertechnetates - nuclear chemistry

Making table salt using sodium metal and chlorine gas

Making Chloroform

White Phosphorus - Explosions&Fire

Making fuming nitric acid

The End of Haber Bosch

NCl3: a terrifying yellow abomination

Making Prussian Blue

The experiment that revealed the atomic world: Brownian Motion

Chirality is Just Turtles All the Way Down

Over 15 minutes:

Chemist Breaks Down 22 Chemistry Scenes From Movies & TV

Hydrogen Peroxide: going all the way

Does cyanide actually smell like almonds?

Cosmic Chemistry with Kate the Chemist & Neil deGrasse Tyson

The Hidden Chemistry of Everything with Neil deGrasse Tyson and Kate the Chemist

How DO Molecules Store Energy?

applied quantum mechanics

A Chemist Explains the ENTIRE History of Atomic Theory (in 48 Minutes)

*for example, I consider some of thermodynamics to be chemistry-related, as well as some aspects of quantum mechanics. When I say I don't promise to objective, I mean I'll make rather liberal decisions on the intersection of sciences. And you can't stop me.

[bonefall]

what poison/s were used in riverstar's heir at moth's celebration and when bright and flowerstar ate together? suggestion (if you hadn't decided yet): Monkshood/Aconite/Wolfsbane (Aconitum napellus) its a VERY poisonous plant native to the uk and europe, lethal with both ingestion and body contact and has historical use in killing and murder. symptoms appear quickly and death often comes in only a few hours; its a shame it wasn't used in canon lmao

Oh symptoms don't just appear quickly-- Aconite's name is said to be ancient Greek for "Without Dust." That refers to how aconite kills SO quickly that you will not even kick up dust in your death struggle. Death coming in a few hours is from the minimum deadly dosage, any good assassin worth their salt would use more (and take care to mask its bitter taste, it's not a subtle flavor like cyanide is.)

Forget "deathberries." Yew is nothing next to aconite.

Yew's deadly compound, taxine, acts by stopping your heart. Yawn. Aconite targets your heart, liver, kidneys, AND brain all at the same time. It's so potent that handling young roots will make your hands go numb. Only 2 miligrams of the deadly compound, aconitine, is a fatal dose in a human being; a single grain of rice weighs 20 miligrams.

Anon, my friend, you undersold aconite. It's not just a very poisonous plant in Europe, aconitine is top 5 deadliest poisons period. Members of the aconite family are widespread through the northern hemisphere-- indigenous Alaskan people have used it to hunt whales for tens of thousands of years. Its toxic properties break down within 24 hours, leaving the meat completely safe to eat.

So naturally, suggestion accepted. This is going to be SICK.

Especially since no one will be able to tell what happened. It looks like every major poison because it is. You might assume it was some kind of toxic cocktail from the symptoms. Convulsions, rapid heartrate, vomiting, numbness. It looks like yew, nightshade, and bryony all at once.

It'll be very easy for Bright Whisker to survive this and shake off suspicion simply by poisoning herself with a small amount of something else. If I go with Maple Whisker being a sibling instead of a cousin, I could have her simply join their meal a little late and realize that her mouth feels numb, just as everyone else enters convulsions, so she spits it out.

(Autism win! Avoided a poisoning because texture bad! Maybe she was waiting for the food to cool down too lmao)

And LASTLY... Aconite is Wolf's Bane. I think this is a really cool place to see the earliest incarnation of the Wolf Motif that will later show up in Bluestar's family. It tickles my brain a bit to think of Flowerstar somehow having the "hood" shape of the flower, and then she loses her first life in her gambit to poison the wolf among sheep.

I also had a stroke of inspiration and had an idea for one of the BB!DOTC cats, too. Dappled Pelt gets massively neglected in canon, imo, and I could set up the wolf thing even earlier. African Wild Dog time (painted wolf.)

[alt-wannabe]

MCSR As Chemical Compounds

idk either man. expect very little actual explanation and a lot of chemical yapping from a very big nerd

Silverr as Silver Nitrate:

AgNO3

the above is the crystal structure

appearance is just a white crystal kinda like sugar

it took everything in me to not just make silverr plain Ag

silver nitrate is the most common precursor for all other important silver salts

also an extremely important compound in the development of photography! (and iirc silverr is a film major)

Feinberg as Ozone:

O3

produced during lightning strikes

pale blue at high ppm

only leaves gas state at cryogenic temperatures

naturally occurring in the stratosphere and absorbs UV rays from the sun

Fruit as Nickel(II) Chloride Hexahydrate:

NiCl2•6H2O

green

the non-hydrate form is a sort of olive-y yellow color

used to absorb ammonia in gas masks

Raddles as Potassium Permanganate:

KMnO4

Sometimes referred to as Purple Potion Powder

goes CRAZY purple when dissolved and is lowkey my favorite chemical

very strong oxidizing agent

one time i stained my hand purple through my glove with this shit idk how it happened

if made in specific solvents can look extremely similar to dragon's breath in minecraft imo

K4 as Octathio[8]circulene:

C16S8

also referred to as Sulflower (like sulfur and sunflower haha get it)

planar which is fairly uncommon for molecules of this size

can be stacked together to make sheets of sulflowers

Cube as Cubane:

C8H8

yeah this is self-explanatory

what is interesting though is that ring strain in 4 membered rings/squares is really high, so cubane existing is a bit of a chemical anomaly

i havent read into it enough to know for sure but i suspect that ring strain is why cubane is a precursor to a HELLA STRONG explosive compound

Reignex as PPTA:

Poly-p-paraphenylene terephthalamide

[-CO-C6H4-CO-NH-C6H4-NH-]n

the name is complicated as shit but this is just kevlar!

aka bulletproof vest material

looks fluffy when not woven completely together

aligning of polymer chains w hydrogen bonds creates EXTREMELY high tensile strength

Mime as Phenylmagnesium Bromide:

C6H5MgBr

a common grignard reagent aka a compound that can be used in a grignard reaction, an extremely important reaction in organic synthesis as it creates new C-C bonds

another fun fact about grignard reagents is that if water is added to them- or even if they're handled in particularly moist air- they fucking explode

extremely strong nucleophile and base

Poundcake as Xenon Hexafluoride:

XeF6

Noble gases don't react unless you REALLY make them

so a compound containing xenon is really interesting

colorless as a solid but sublimes (aka skips straight from solid to gas) into a bright yellow gas

fun fact a lot of instances where typical chemistry rules are broken (noble gases not reacting, octet rule in general, etc) involve fluorine to the point ive heard it referred to as a "batshit electron thief"

Fulham as Iron Hexacyanidoferrate:

C18Fe7N18

also known as prussian blue

extremely common pigment in paints and the first modern synthetic pigment

used extensively in The Great Wave

another one of my favorite molecules bc im biased and like inorganic chem aka things that contain metals

used as an antidote for heavy metal poisoning which is interesting bc it contains cyanide ligands!

Couriway as Bullvalene:

C10H10

in a state of constant resonance

aka the double bonds are CONSTANTLY shifting and reforming bullvalene into... itself but moved around a little

the bonds fluctuate so rapidly that in nmr analysis each carbon and hydrogen in the entire molecule is read as equivalent (for my non-chem people that's very uncommon and very cool)

formed through photolysis (aka using light/photons to fuel a reaction)

[incorrectbatfam]

What's in Alfie's spice cabinet? Wrong answers only

Pure organic sea salt

Peruvian puff peppers

Tea leaves

Protein powder

Edible glitter

Cinnamon sugar

Synonym sugar

Lazarus water

Jason's foul mouth soap bar

Flour

Kryptonite dust

Jokerized seasoning

Everyone's medications

Ramen soup packets

Purple food coloring

Vegan meat flavoring

Nth metal shavings

Cyanide

Beans

[museofthepyre]

MAJOR CHNT FILE 33/34 SPOILERS. LIKE MAJOR MAJOR.

Sydney’s mode of death has been wracking my brain lately. So I’m here to ramble off my thoughts. I think the biggest clue is this line from Elijah.

“Died tenderly on the clean sheets it was gifted”… I was a fan of the drowning theory, but this is pretty solid evidence against it. Drowning is messy, whatever Jedidiah did was discrete and clean— also, possibly in some sort of hospital bed? Cabin… bed? Gifted clean sheets… whatever that means. Anyways drowning or not, the respiratory distress/ hypoxia themes are HUGE and INCREDIBLY RE-OCCURRENT so I cannot overlook them. The theory that Jedidiah may have just pulled the plug is also enticing, but I’ts not as directly linked to those specific “can’t breathe” themes… so.

There is a certain discrete and rapidly lethal poison which causes tissue hypoxia... and that is Cyanide. I found these tidbits interesting.

Sounds kinda similar to a certain someone’s current “mystery condition”. Anyways

Most important things here: Cyanide poisoning presents as respiratory distress/ hypoxia/ “trouble breathing”. longer exposures can result in a coma, long-term neurological issues, and obviously death. Exposure can be through ingestion, inhalation, or dermal routes. No mess. It’s often used in murders/ su!cides for these reasons.

So. That is! Certainly something! Just a theory, but very interesting! I also find it funny that most people think of apple seeds when they think of cyanide. Boy oh boy, I sure hope there isn’t anything dangerous inside this here apple. Like a teensy bit of cyanide… or a centipede.

To the drowning theory’s credit. Hypoxia, again. Themes of not being able to breathe. Sydney’s first described dream with Adam being set under water. Jedidiah throwing the necromancy’d rabbit into the lake after disassembling it. Sydney’s hydrophobia (though that may stem back to childhood). Jedidiah being averse to this years lake day all of a sudden (which is noted as uncharacteristic). Probably some other things that I’m forgetting… but that “died tenderly on the clean sheets it was gifted” line is pretty hard to refute.

Also also I think regardless of where Sydney DIED, he was RESURRECTED on the camp grounds. I could speculate on how he got to the campgrounds in the first place… but I’m almost wondering if… so yknow how when treatments are failing and it looks like a patient is going to die, they’re given the option to a) stay in hospital and keep going with the treatment, despite the risk of dying there… or b) embrace fate and spend their remaining days comfortable, at home and with loved ones? Sydney had fond memories of the camp. Sydney didn’t have a home to return to (besides maybe Lucille’s house but I doubt he’d choose that). So I wonder if, in that scenario, he would’ve chosen the camp. If he’d been gifted a room to stay in for however long (they thought) he had left. Which would be why Elijah knew where to go interrogate Lucille later on… if he’d followed them there initially. This bit is entirely speculation btw, major guess. The timelines are hard to string together atp so take this with a grain of salt.

This is driving me to madness

[missmisandrytabletalk]

SALTY RAPIST PIE COOKBOOK:

first glaze the skin of rapists with the battery acid, dip them in cyanide solution and let em marinate for a good 30 minutes. now take em out of the bowl and drill holes in their pps and external body parts, apply salt inside those holes, let it sit for a few minutes. preheat the cremation furnace to 565 °F and carefully lay them inside. viola! your salty rapist pie is ready to serve.

[strangestcase]

In the original novella, we only "see" three characters die. One is Hastie Lanyon, whose death isn't gruesome and startling like Carew's, but that meets an arguably violent end.

While Carew draws the ire of Hyde through simply being at the wrong place at the wrong time, being cordial to the wrong person, being, Lanyon rather doesn't. Instead, it is his act of loyalty towards Jekyll, the man he hasn't talked to in a decade and calls him a pedant when he isn't listening, what kills him. Once again good deeds are punished with death. The difference, though, doesn't just reside in the fact that Hyde never once needs to put a finger on Lanyon to kill him, but the fact that it is a deeply personal loss- on both sides.

Jekyll-as-Hyde correctly assesses that Lanyon will help a friend in need. He himself says that Lanyon would gladly sacrifice his right arm to save him in body and mind, and with those words he convinces him to come to the rescue via bringing Hyde the serum's ingredients from the cabinet, now forbidden to him. And Lanyon is a good man. He's sensible enough to bring a gun with himself, he's kind enough to help Jekyll even though he believes he's finally lost it -and he's not entirely wrong-, and he's open-minded enough to not only chalk up his supernatural hatred of Hyde to a silly personal bias rather than dismiss him as "deformed", but to also fight against it and be nice to him.

No, Lanyon doesn't meet his violent end through physical violence. All he does is fall into Hyde's trap and give in to curiosity. And that's how, in his narration, Chapter 9, we learn what really killed him in Chapter 6, weeks after the events transpired. His mysterious "disease", the thing eating up at him, is the revelation. One of his closest friends -despite it all- has placed his trust upon him, and his reward is to see him at his pettiest, his cruelest, his worst. To learn that his friend was a monster, all along. No. That he turned into one, on his own volition. The choice was his. And now that he's realized it was a dark path to walk, he can't un-walk it. He can't stop, even if he wanted to, cursing himself with a monstrousness that fights back at any attempt at a fix and yet needs to be fixed to save its skin.

There is no "normal" to recover. Jekyll had always carried with him the elements of his destruction- his arrogance and his bile. The revelation that Hyde never really existed destroys Lanyon's static and material worldview, smashing the orderly world he lives in to bits. The revelation that Hyde was created for a specific purpose, and what it was, destroys Lanyon's view of Jekyll as an eccentric but harmless man, a good person with misguided opinions and fanciful theories.

Does Jekyll ever learn of Lanyon's death? Does Utterson ever bring it up behind the scenes, out of the third-person narrator's scope? Will he ever know that his last crime was killing the man that saved his life?

Well... Ironically, Lanyon didn't really save Jekyll's life. He only extended it for a couple of months, prevented Hyde from being arrested and tried and executed for God knows how many crimes of indeterminate nature. After all, if his criminal record killed him of shock, or at least poured salt into the wound, it had to be gruesome. Thanks to Lanyon's intervention Hyde can return to the house as Jekyll and attempt at resuming a normal life, without success. Soon enough he transforms again, and runs out of salts, and is found dead on the floor with the vial he just emptied of cyanide still in his cold hand.

How do we define violence in a world in which body and mind are one? In the world of Jekyll and Hyde, thoughts and ideas are physical, real, tangible. Hyde is, ultimately, a concept, the sketch of a person disguising a fractured mind disguising a sad mad genius that desires to not desire. We can consider Lanyon one of Hyde's victims, but can we call Lanyon's death violent? I would say so. Like Carew, all he ever did, at least within the constraints of the story -a snapshot of a disjointed Gothic world-, was being kind to someone who didn't deserve it.

At the beginning of this post, I said there were three on-page deaths, three deaths we got to "see" in Stevenson's novella. The third death would be Jekyll's. And it is violent, as well- first his original identity dies, unable to be present, made physical, made real, by want of not being able to manifest itself, or rather, by want of not being able to not manifest Hyde's. In a sense, he's run out of opportunities to be "good". If Jekyll can no longer be Jekyll-as-Jekyll, and only has Jekyll-as-Hyde left, Jekyll no longer exists. As he puts it, he's forced to resume Hyde's personality for the last time- to put on a costume that has turned into himself. Hyde never existed as a person, and in the last eight days of his life he has to be, because Hyde is all he's got left of a person.

It's impossible to not think of a suicide, even a suicide by poison, as violent. But Jekyll's death is violent not just because he eventually goes through with his "promise" of sorts that he'll have to die to rid the world of Hyde (and so we have Hyde killing himself if only to not end up in the gallows, fullfilling his ultimate desire, because that's what he, as a concept, was designed to do). It is also violent because by the time he physically dies, he's long gone. He's committed enough violence against himself already, destroying his belongings and thinking of himself as either his oppressive father or his idiot son, depending on what body he's been thrown into at the time.

The horror of Jekyll and Hyde is the horror of the perversion of the intimate, on all levels. Your best friend is not who he claimed to be. Your body as an extension of yourself isn't to be trusted. Helping others gets you killed. Edward Hyde pollutes everything he touches- breaks into a homicidal rage at someone being polite at him, accidentally curses his savior with the decay of the soul, self harms in the most twisted way possible and dies two times, brings the worst in all those that look at him, brings terror into your house, ruins the night, and breaks the peace.

It is only logical that something -someone?- that ruins everything to its very core comes from within, and is ultimately the cause for three very twisted, and violent, forms of death.

[charmingdisaster]

Charming Disaster - Paris Green

A song inspired by poisons, pigments, and painting. 

Paris Green was a crystalline form of arsenic invented in the 19th century, widely used in rural areas as an insecticide and rodenticide (and the cause of many deaths by poison during that period due to its easy accessibility). The chemical compound also produced a brilliant green color that was used as a pigment in fabric dyes, paints, and wallpapers (all, it turned out, highly toxic). Paris Green's name evokes another pigment color related to poison: Prussian Blue, a compound produced when iron salts are added to a tissue sample containing cyanide in post-mortem examinations—which is also used as a paint pigment. 

Recommending reading: 

Wisconsin Death Trip by Michael Lesy: a book of photographs and text fragments, largely newspaper clippings, that together create a chilling account of life in rural Wisconsin the late 19th century: murder, suicide, arson, violence, religious mania, darkness, obsession, contagion. https://bookshop.org/p/books/wisconsin-death-trip-michael-lesy/10756193?ean=9780826321930

The Poisoner's Handbook by Deborah Blum: the thrilling history of forensic medicine in Prohibition-era New York City. https://bookshop.org/p/books/the-poisoner-s-handbook-murder-and-the-birth-of-forensic-medicine-in-jazz-age-new-york-deborah-blum/16656190?ean=9780143118824

Bitten by Witch Fever: Wallpaper and Arsenic in the Victorian Home by Lucinda Hawksley: a catalog of arsenic-dyed textiles and wallpapers, with accompanying accounts of madness and toxicity. https://www.lucindahawksley.com/books/bitten-by-witch-fever/

More recommended reading: https://bookshop.org/shop/charmingdisaster

[trashcanwithsprinkles]

hii! i am in love with your works. i've read itysg(ainly) several times and cyanide twice T.T you deserve all the love, you've become one of my top 3 comfort authors <3

i have a quick question. do you have a compilation of your abyss lore somewhere? like how you can't cry in the abyss because the salt attracts the enemies (i sincerely hope that is from you and i'm not confusing it with someone else's T.T) uhh, cause i intend to base my research on it :) no issue tho if not

oh! no i don't think i have it anywhere, but it's no trouble to me to just- dump it all here, so-

i'll leave it under the cut, but tysm!! good luck writing and obviously feel free to tweak and change stuff to better fit whatever you're going for!

ok so- this is going to be about canon-genshin's abyss. the only difference between that one and cyanide's abyss is a lack of rhinedottir creatures, so.

landscape

i've always been torn between if the abyss is like- just a small area, like within a huge cave; or if it's its own entire realm altogether. like a whole other world, with its own continents and all that. it feels so limiting to make it only a cave, but it also feels a bit too strange to make it just- mirror teyvat. idk anyway,

under the assumption that it's not as big as teyvat but larger than just a cave, we could look at it like one large landmass surrounded by ocean

the moon spire is off one of the coasts, around the rainforest area

the easiest way to think about it is probably like minecraft's nether. like the overworld is all open sky and lots of biomes while the nether is all claustrophobic and with only a handful of biomes

i think it'd be cool if it's rainforest and badlands/savanna/desert. but not like sumeru- to me sumeru's rainforest is very much like the jungle in madagascar and the desert is like the sandbanks in africa. i think the abyss could be more like the amazon's rainforest, tighter, a lot less giant fantastical trees and more- 'where the fuck am i, i can hardly see thru the vegetation' sort of place. and the desert more like the usa's stereotypical cacti and tumbleweed all dry land and rocky cliffs.

since irminsul's roots have to be down there and i think the abyss is whacky enough to meld with whatever dimension irminsul resides in, then i think we could literally have massive petrified roots in the middle of the continent. like just- sprouting out of the ground and making this gigantic thing that you could theoretically see from everywhere if it wasn't so fucking dark. in cyanide here would be where the primordial one would've been sealed to in the original abyss, right in the center.

the rainforest area would be full of winding, impossibly deep rivers- like all of them deep like the mariana trench. wet mist hollows and just- general amazon rainforest inconveniences. if you've ever been there you know what i mean. i think it'd be even more fucked up if it doesn't rain, though.

the desert part would be a death sentence, hence why skirk sticks to the rainforest most times, esp while with childe

the area with irminsul's roots would be like a giant haunted forest/cave system, full of the only sources of natural light down there (some glowing moss and insects)

climate

damp and wet-feeling but it's not water, it's abyssal miasma. like it all feels like a sauna. the temperatures would go from uncomfortably kinda-hot in the day to fucking freezing at nigth.

the rainforest feels even wetter but again, not water. everytime you breathe it feels like you have to force your lungs to take in the air. again, if you've ever been to a jungle or rainforest, you know what i mean.

the desert parts would be unbearably hot, but the heat would come from the ground itself, so you'd feel feverish the entire time - it'd be cool if the sands were obnoxiously red from high iron oxides to make it even worse. the more bearable places would be up on the rock cliffs and outcrops, but since they're the more livable places, that means most of the creatures are also up there. speaking of,

creatures

the rifthounds are in the higher areas of the rainforest, almost a tundra, bordering the roots, where the wolflord has its lair and territory. not edible bc they contain aluminum and other not-safe-for-humans metals, and also there's hardly any meat in them lmao.

the giant clay worm(s) lives underground in the lowland rainforest and nobody has really seen it, so it's a non-issue. it's massive, and the reason why the marshlands on a different side of the rainforest exist. i think it'd be interesting if nobody knew whether it's one giant one or multiple giants. also this would be the cause of quakes in the abyss, it's just whenever the thing moves there would be a tremble in the ground

steelclaw harpies are out in the rocky outcrops of the dessert, hence why you'd be forced to walk the superheated base ground instead of going up. if you've ever seen a harpy eagle, just think that but like- the size of a person, and a bit more dinosaur-esque.

the glass rain whale. kinda like the giant clay worm in that hardly anyone sees it, only when it rains glass over the sea (not the land) you can see it come out of the ocean and fly around. the meagre light of the moon makes it seem almost transluscent, like a ghost whale. it couldn't be the all-devouring narwhal bc it wouldn't make sense lore-wise, but it could be similar-looking.

pillar rats are- well, giant rats that live in the canyons and desert. they call them pillar rats because they climb up sheer cliffaces like it's nothing. also they can scratch through pretty much anything, and have very thick hides, so if you need warm clothes that's what you want to hunt

stonetusk hogs are the easiest animal to catch in the rainforest marshlands, but the meat isn't all that tasty. they're blind, like most other creatures. not that big. like- fucked up versions of genshin's boars.

praying goliaths are giant mantis-like mutant bugs that live in the rainforest. they're big big, like twice the size of a person big, and they're best avoided. you can tell where one passed through by the path of cut down vegetation they leave behind as they move, using their front legs as sharp scythes.

canyon rhinos live in both the canyons and the fog hollows. they're practically bulletproof, fuck-off ugly, and very dangerous. blind from overuse of moping ferns (that grow in the hollows) to hide the salt in their eyes. good food if you can catch them

wraith butterflies are around the water deposits and clay banks of the rainforest and always in the hunt for salt. they have sharp legs to perch on hosts and poisonous powder between their wings. yes they're the ones that make crying a bad idea.

stalkwalkers are the kings of the fog hollows and the reason why you don't go there if you're smart. i have mentioned plenty that they're physically inspired by made in abyss' turbinid-dragon (ryuuzazai?). basically a giant six-legged giraffe/seahorse looking thing. the stalkwalkers would have retractable harpoon-like stalks (stillettos) that they use to walk through the forest and to hunt. massive and blind, see through echolocation.

misc

the concentration of abyssal miasma would be a lot more forgiving around irminsul's roots. basically everything is just better around irminsul's roots, but because it's so nice there, most creatures also go there, so no. the wolflord has set up camp nearby also.

it's dark. like there's no light besides the lackustre light of the moon and the glowing moss in irminsul's roots, so all creatures see through either abyssal miasmic sight or a form of echolocation.

you can't plant foreign crops, the soil won't accept it

most root vegetables aren't safe to eat. rooties are though

there's bugs that fuck with your sleep cycles to weaken you

the sand is black

there's almost no fish in the ocean, so it's not worth it to stay on the shores

it's also not worth it to stay generally uncovered from the moon's light bc it has a weird-ass radiation, like the sun.

i think that's all i had? there's probably some bits and pieces of other things about how the abyss filters the miasma and how all creatures evolved to use it since it's the only available energy down there, but i think that's been repeated enough in the fics hahah

anyway yeah! hope that's what you meant. if not oh well, it was probably about time i compiled it all,,