#kinda like a poison effect but. burn :)

[iucemon]

"I'm so hungry" you say, foolishly. (clank clank clank clank) "how hungry 👀"

I'm not great at translating 3d objects, but their helmet is supposed to be this shape

Kinda a robosona, kinda an OC. Somewhere in between. They are the person I become when I am In The Zone (kitchen). It's too hot to make curry, but I can't stop thinking about it...

I went with the concept of a humanitarian aid robot (who goes to disaster zones and makes tons of food for the affected) who runs a cooking blog in their off time. The bell pepper shield is meant to double as a cutting board/serving plate (it's the future, I'm sure they've figured out how to make surfaces that automatically clean themselves, lol)

Colors wise, they are literally curry and rice. Plus red/orange/yellow bell pepper, spinach, and carrot (the belt embellishment is meant to read as one of those decorative gems megaman loves so much, but also it's totally a slice of carrot)

I couldn't resist giving them a bowl hat (no actual curry in it tho, it's just colored that way)

[kiragecko]

Story Idea

Telekinetic supervillain who REALLY loves historical architecture. Living in a superhero universe where heroes keep crashing through stained glass windows and leveling entire streets. As well as the normal corruption causing building to be demolished or “restored” in extremely destructive ways.

Kinda has Poison Ivy vibes, without any of the femme fatale trappings - her entire focus is preserving historical valuable buildings, and she doesn’t really care if humans that get in the way die. But she also isn’t going out of her way to kill people.

And the leader of the local superhero team can see where she’s coming from. And decides that just throwing her in jail every time she acts up is a sign they’re failing in their duty to protect the city. Instead, he starts trying to gain her trust. He doesn’t care that much about buildings, but he works on lessening his team’s collateral damage. He promises the supervillain that he’ll try to pressure the city government if she brings problems to him rather than taking them into her own hands. Eventually, he convinces her that she can protect the city’s infrastructure better by being on his team than she can on her own.

She’s incredibly helpful! She will keep burning buildings from collapsing until everyone can get out and the fire is extinguished. She’ll hold skyscrapers up while supervillains reign destruction down around them. She’ll deconstruct traps and grumpily direct her teammates towards the hidden mastermind who set them up. And when the crisis is over, she’ll see what can be salvaged and rebuild it if possible.

But she’s a PR nightmare.

Former Supervillain refuses to help people. She DOES NOT care. Your kid is trapped in the burning building? That is not her problem. Go bother someone else. Dude is holding a bunch of people hostage? It’s fine, he’s not causing any damage to the building he’s in.

People DO NOT like this attitude. People do not accept that she’s part of a team, and other heroes are capable of filling the “empathy” and “human rescuing” gaps.

And she’s high maintenance! The team frequently end up in situations where protecting lives is in conflict with protecting property. They take missions that mean very little to them, because they’re important to her. And the leader is constantly having to talk her out of rampages, pressuring the government to drop lucrative and unethical contracts, and making sure she’s sticking to the plan in the field. And she isn’t interested in interpersonal relationships or social niceties, so none of them are even doing this out of friendship!

-

Sometimes, you help someone not because they’ll be grateful, but because it will make your community better. Sometimes, you help the local drug addict not because he’s likely to turn his life around, but because he smashes less windows when he has a warm, quiet space to stay. And sometimes, keeping that community benefit takes a long term commitment.

I want to see a superhero team turn a villain as harm prevention and then willingly bear the cost of keeping that villain from causing harm. Not because it’s rewarding (though there are rewards) but because it’s more effective than any other method. And I want the villain to go along with it because the heroes actually found a more efficient way for her to reach her goals.

And it being messy for everyone, but I want them to make it work. And it to be worth it, in the end.

[pygmi-says-hi]

writing tips - sick/poisoning fics

so since you guys ate up the injury thing like holy fuck 1.5k notes in 24 hours??? hello?? I thought I'd do a semi-related one about sickness.

disclaimer because you guys thoroughly reminded me of this: medicine is fucking weird and everybody reacts differently. this is blanket statement information, not the mayo clinic. idc that 'oh my cousin had that disease and he didn't have that symptom' okay whatever like sorry but that's not the point of this post. this is just to eliminate egregious mistakes. I'm not looking into every possible way this illness will show up. chill your tits. the comments on the last post were just like. dude. chill.

aurkay so.

poison-related illness.

okay poisoning is such a cool concept and there are literally so many cool effects it can have. Idk why everyone goes with the holy trinity of hallucinations, fainting and nausea. like yeah those are good but there are so many other things???

like internal bleeding. literally the best. I love it. It's slow but hella deadly and sometimes people can't even feel it/don't know what's happening. that's such a great option for whump or some angst. like they didn't know until it was too late. gold.

also - some poisons are not dissolvable in food or drink. Like certain medicines, they lose effectiveness if digested instead of injected intravenously. obviously you don't have to know that but if you wanna get into it, do a lil bit of research. could bring up some intriguing scenarios.

infection or sepsis

yoooo. sepsis is lowkey terrifying. infections are similar to actual illness but are caused because of an unsanitary wound. lots of interesting symptoms to browse here:

fever, cramps, fainting, hallucinations, dehydration, delirium, nausea, sores, sepsis, organ failure and on and on and on.

infection happens so fast too. like forget to change a bandage once and boom it could be infected. (is that a whump opportunity I hear...?)

sepsis is like the point of no return pretty much. Unless you've got crazy medical technology, sepsis is really really bad. basically, it's when the body overreacts and starts to damage its own tissue. leading to organ failure and then eventually death. spooky.

regular illness

this just means like a virus or something. a key point of viruses is an elevated temperature and dehydration; the body's primary responses. burn the bug out and dehydrate it.

depending on the illness, symptoms will vary. respiratory infections or viruses involve congestion, coughing, sore throats, a rattly breathing sound, and productive coughing (phlegm and mucus). Stomach illnesses include cramps, nausea, dehydration, dizziness, low blood sugar, weight loss, and diarrhea. these can overlap but mostly those are the groupings.

with fevers come achy joints and sensitive skin. fever is inflammation, like mild swelling everywhere because of how intense the antibody reaction is.

dehydration sets in really quick. really bad dehydration induces dizziness, nausea, diarrhea, delirium, lethargy, and fainting. great motivation for a whumper to possibly restrict whumpee's water intake...?

just some prompts! kinda low energy today sorry I haven't been posting, xox

[dear-ao3]

bucket of facts here. This is one of my favorite f1 things ever, apologies for how long it ended up being:

In the 1980’s, formula one teams, notably BMW, added toluene to their fuel mixtures. If that word sounds like it’s probably dangerous, that’s because it is — most people know it as rocket fuel. It’s extremely poisonous and carcinogenic, but did have some upsides! For one, it was less volatile [citation needed] than what they had been using, making is slightly less dangerous in the event of a crash (by 1970’s-80’s F1 standards that just means in only turned into a small bomb most of the time). It was also denser and burned faster, so the same amount of toluene could give much more power than the standard F1 fuel.

While the new fuel did allow them to run higher turbo pressures, it did it have a tendency to increase turbo pressure as it was run during the race, and everyone ran turbos at this time. They had to dial back the turbo pressure from what it’s max could’ve been, just to compensate for the power of the fuel — this mitigated the admittedly high likelihood that the engine decided to submit its two weeks notice on two seconds of warning (read: it caught on fire and sometimes kinda maybe sorta just exploded).

Modern f1 fuel has an RON octane rating of 95-102. The toluene aided fuel had an RON octane rating of 120+. For context, your car probably runs on about 87 RON. For those unfamiliar, RON octane ratings measure how much compression fuel can be put under before it sparks, which is how engines work: compress fuel, spark, make power (I can explain that better if you want but short version is that). This incredibly high octane level allowed the engines of the time to be run at a much higher compression, which had a myriad of bonuses to the cars.

Current F1 regulations are 1.6 litre V6 engines that rev to 15,000 RPMs (max allowed) and produce a max of 850 BHP (horsepower) when they’re pushing the edge of their abilities without aid of electric components like H/KERS, which is used to boost the cars to around 1,000 BHP.

Brabham-BMW’s 1983 engine took Nelson Pique to his WDC that year. It was a 1.5 litre inline 4 (so smaller than current) and produced 12,000 RPMs, as the restrictions were a bit tighter there back then. Without electronic aid like today and a smaller engine than your standard Toyota Camry, it easily produced 850 BHP at race trim, the version built to last a whole race. When in qualifying trim, with everything tuned to maximum to get the most out of the car without it blowing up, it ran at 1,250 BHP. Original testing put it at producing over 1,400 BHP, but BMWs testing facilities couldn’t measure past that — the car put out more power than they could even register.

The teams also had a sneaky loophole: the amount of fuel allowed to be held at once in the car (refueling was banned at this time) was effectively limited to how large the gas tank could be. The teams realized that they could literally freeze the fuel and store it at cold temperatures. This compacted the fuel, allowing them to put more fuel into the gas tank — more fuel per fuel, really. This allowed drivers to be more aggressive and push harder more often, not having to worry about running out of fuel.

In case this whole toluene thing seems bad, don’t worry! It’s only used in nail polish, rubber, adhesives, and paints :3

hit me up for more facts if you want

oh my

anon bestie i might in fact be in love with you

[evilminji]

Back at it again with the BNHA crossover Ponderings!

Nedzu is LITERALLY one of THE smartest beings on the planet, right? Like... he's probably on some internationally recognized list of Top Planetary IQs? Which is why Japan let's him get away with so much?

Cause they REALLY fucked him over, he has the power to leave, and that would be really, REALLY bad Brain Drain wise/politically for the Japanese Government? (Also pls don't become a Supervillian we literally can not afford that, Mr. Nedzu Sir? Etc etc)

You think he has... like? Chats? With the OTHER top intellects? Some kid in Siberia with the New Super Intelligence Quirk his parents can't begin to even handle, gets put in history's WEIRDEST group chat? I like to think so.

But the REASON I ask this?

What hero do you call? For Weird Shit in international waters?

Suspicious, floating, weirdly two dimensional and HIGHLY radioactive... corrosive... green goop? Rings? Orbs? CAN it be an orb if it's two dimensional? It certainly LOOKS like there is depth to it... somehow...

A THING. In the sky.

Shouldn't be there, man. This is a shipping lane. It's scaring the people on passing ships. No one knows what Quirk could have made this. Might be a trafficking victim's call for help. Might be a first Quirk Use mishap. They need to know what it IS and how to get rid of it.

They go the normal routes first. Doesn't work. Okay, call in some professionals. Kinda pricey, but no big. Right? Doesn't work. Okaaaay, call in a SPECIALIST. REAL pricey, but this thing is holding up international trade, making people in fancy ass suit all Nervous(TM).

Doesn't Work.

Specialist tells um to not to bother with calling anyone else on their normal list. Is looking at the green goo like it spat on his mother and called his dog a whore. They would prefer he NOT make that facial expression. That is a facial expression that will get them yelled at by their bosses. Fuck(TM).

Now Politics(TM) are involved. People want to STUDY the green goo. Harness it for dubious and unknown green goo experiments. Poke it with their Quirk to see what'll happen. There's fuckin REPORTER with no concept of self-preservation, trying to get CLOSER to the RADIOACTIVE POISON GOO.

Fuckin Heros have shown up.

Why are you bastards even HERE. What? Are you peacocks gonna PUNCH it? Get off their rig! Stop posing in front of the GOO!

Then? Oh thank GOD. The SMART people show up. Certified, highest grade, triple refined, PREMIUM Nerds(TM). The WAY above our pay grade folks. We're SAVED! Can we PLEASE go home now? We are just ocean cleaners! Our job is debris! Not weird GOO!

Enter, stage Super Cool Helicopters? The Elite Nerds of Earth. Of which Nedzu is one. Since Japan is closest. And it's a school weekend! He had some time.

And?

Ha ha... Thanks, he hates it! Nedzu's stoat brain is SCREAMING and he wants NOTHING to do with...? What he is somehow CERTAIN is a floating pit of Death! Interesting effect. Anyone getting that or just him?

Then? Some hot head on loan to Korea from the states? Spots something. SomeONE. And does he TELL the newly arrived professionals? So they may do a risk assessment? Figure out a way to rescue this individual SAFELY? Of course not!

Said hot head has supposedly indescribable chains! So he just flings them rights on in! Grabbing the boy from the center of the portal, pulling him free, and in the process? Immediately destabilizing it. Causing it to collapse down towards everyone bellow.

He also then proceeds to DROP the young lad, in his alarm at this entirely predictable outcome.

Right. Into. The Ocean.

A boy, who is dressed in filthy medical scrubs, haunting familiar in a way nothing should EVER be again, and entirely unconscious. Plunge down into the briny deeps and bitter cold. Alone. Abandoned. Death, thick and viscous, losing form and raining down like bile.

Everyone saving themselves.

Ah, he rather liked this suit.

The salt water ruins it. The droplets of Green, burn like molten glass each time they touch him. He will likely have at least a few new scars, after today. Assuming this is not the end of him. But he swims fast. The boy sinking slower then his size would suggest he should. He grabs hold and arcs, dragging them both from beneath the fallout of yet another humans hubris.

He does not stop swimming. Not until he knows he is near the helicopter. He is thankful, that he dragged Aizawa along. The man takes one look at his serious expression, the state of his rescued young friend, and merely hauls them both out of the water and into the machine.

Time to go.

They saw nothing, it seems. And there is nothing to be found.

The boy does not wake. Not for quite a while. Long enough, that Nedzu, perhaps unwisely, has grown attached. Is considering adoption. If only too terrorize a few goverment bodies. And... well... the boy will need some who UNDERSTANDS. And the scars paint a very specific sort of tale. But first, the most important question, when beginning these things...

"Tea? Or would you prefer coffee?"

@the-witchhunter @mutable-manifestation @hypewinter @hdgnj

[barblaz-arts]

I remember seeing that the addams are immune to fire,electricity, and poison, so when does that kick in? Are Sora(I'm making the safe assumption that she becomes an addams) and Enid (ig Morticia also counts in this) immune from birth? Does it kick in when they fall in love with the bloodline Addams? When their last name is legally changed to Addams? What's your interpretation? Cause right now I'm thinking about the first 2 options and scenarios where they KNOW they should have burned, electrocuted, or poisoned, and are just wondering something along the lines of , "Why tf am I okay rn?"

I'm sorry, but I don't really like to think that people married into the Addams family gain those kinds of abilities. Stuff that are canon in the movies dont necessarily have to be for the show, especially when they were done for comedic effect(i.e. Morticia barely being bothered as she gave birth). The invulnerability may be something I followed in Addams Family fics related to the movie, but I don't apply it to the series version of Morticia.(The invulnerability probably isn't even canon to the show's version of the Addamses anyway)

That hc is kinda attached to the Addams Family curse fanon, which I was never really a fan of. I don't want some kind of curse of fate compelling my characters to fall in love, and I don't want some outside force confirming that the person they're with is The One either. Falling in love has to be something that happens because of how their relationship has developed, and staying with the person has to be something they decide on their own. That's romance to me, not some curse.

And with the kinda love life Pugsley's had in my AU, applying the Curse in that storyline would be giving implications that I'm not interested in exploring.

I also don't like the idea of people who marry into the Addamses suddenly gaining or always having gained invulnerability because of the kind of relationship arc I want for Morticia and Enid in my AUs. If you've read my fic, you might remember there was a scene between Enid and Morticia talking about boundaries.

As well as Morticia and Enid may fit in with the Addamses like a glove, I still want to emphasize that they are both outsiders being welcomed to the family, and it has to be FELT, you know? It's an interesting conflict to explore, that even Morticia had difficulty adjusting to a different lifestyle with the Addamses due to them being just so different in many ways. Because it would be interesting to explore it in relation to how she could bond with Enid over it.

That was the mindset I had when I wrote that scene. I actually had plans to further explore it. There were supposed to be more scenes with Morticia and Enid, but I had to cut it short.

[quadrantadvisor]

Owl House/Boiling Isles biology headcanons from a fic idea I never wrote:

Witches have a wider range of color vision than humans. A lot of magic puts off infrared light (meaning Luz is missing out on like, half of what spells actually look like).

Humans, however, have a better sense of smell. Witches are better at digesting potentially hazardous materials, but humans have to worry about poisons. Humans are also highly specialized to smell petrichor (via Wikipedia, "able to detect it at concentrations as low as 0.4 parts per billion"), and witches can't smell it at all. (Luz is like, "I miss the rain smells in the human realm so much. On the Boiling Isles the rain just smells like burning :/" and all her friends are like, "what. are you talking about."

Witches don't have an appendix, but they do, coincidentally, also have a random organ that doesn't have much of a purpose and sometimes ruptures and kills you. It's located slightly above the right lung.

Kinda obvious but, ears. Witch ears have a greater curve than human ears and taper into a point. They have some limited mobility, allowing the witch to pinpoint sounds, and they play a part in emotional expression. For a witch, it's not really that strange that human ears are round, it's more that they don't move at all. They're completely stiff, and it makes humans difficult to read. (Luz is lucky she's otherwise very expressive, or else she would come off as nearly emotionless. As it is, sometimes people think she's not being genuine, because her ears don't match the rest of her expression, like when someone smiles without their eyes.)

Humans have slightly denser bones than witches. As a result, humans weigh a bit more on average and put on muscle easier.

Witches can't digest lactose

A high tolerance for most human poisons means that alcohol isn't a popular drug for witches. It technically affects them in a similar way, but their tolerance is such that it's not an effective way to get high. Most of the drugs used recreationally on the Boiling Isles would kill a human instantly.

Witches have a different pulse beat from humans, since their hearts are designed differently to accommodate the bile sac (and grimwalkers' pulses are even more unique, since they have a galdorstone. Rather than the thump of blood valves, Grimwalkers have a sort of magic hum that pulses their circulatory system.)

[lennadanvers]

Hi! I love everything youve written with my entire fucking heart like you dont understand there hasnt been a single thing of yours that I havent liked! Anyways, I was wondering if you could write some more Simon Riley? You write him so well it isnt even funny. If you cant, no worries! I think youre amazing!!!!

Hi! Thanks a lot for the praise, it means a lot (you don't even know how much, I'm pretty new to fanfic writing and posting stuff is still kinda terrifying, but when people say things like this it warms my heart). Anyway, I had this sitting in my drafts for way too long, and found the energy to finish it today. Sorry for the delay, I hope you still enjoy it.

Thanks for your patience <3

Every coin has two faces

Ghost doesn’t like to think about himself.

Maybe the mask is an effort to conceal his own face when he walks past a mirror, rather than to guard his identity. Maybe it has a double purpose. Maybe it’s just one: to hide. Whatever the case, Simon Riley avoided thinking about himself. Of how he looked. How he sounded. Or moved-

Until he had met you.

Fresh blood. As in a new recruit and as in that you were bleeding the first time he saw you. Despite the bloody nose, there was something there. A burn in your eyes. The sharp smile you threw to the recruit laying at your feet. To the one responsible for your pain. Sparring wasn’t supposed to be this dirty, but they had crossed the line. And you had slaughtered it in response. A fucking demon; you had become violence on the flesh and unleashed something nasty upon them.

Once you had won the fight -not fair and square, but they had asked for it-, you stopped. Put the leash on whatever it was that took over you, and stepped back, hand to your bloody face.

Simon smelled something rotten.

For the untrained nose, it wasn’t noticeable. Most people would have looked at you and seen a surprisingly skilled recruit, that’s it. But he saw himself. Broken recognizes broken, he supposes. The anger ready to jump out. The control; years of training that someone as young as you would only have if they started before even learning to talk.

That’s what it was, wasn’t it? You were another survivor. Another messed up past. Another broken child who grew into a desperate, cold monster.

Ghost saw himself in you.

It went downhill from there. Simon Riley knew it was a bad idea, he was a bad idea. But you were so good. Scary good. Too damn close to perfect for him to be at ease. He kept an eye on you. From afar. Very, very far. From a second-floor window. From his elevated position as a sniper in the field. From a couple dozens of yards in the training area. Through Soap’s gossip.

Simon Riley had never been so close to liking himself. You were fast, methodic, smart and precise. You were strong, witty, sarcastic and poisonous. He was interested, involved, captivated and weirdly vulnerable.

It haunted Ghost how much of himself he saw in you. It just made the few contrasts (sparkly smile, short body, soft curves) feel sweeter. Just made him want to be closer. If you were so… So beautiful, so elegant, deadly, appealing, valuable… Maybe he was, too. Maybe it happened to you too. Maybe, when you looked at him, you saw yourself. Maybe you understood.

That’s why the way you looked at him it chipped his heart a little.

He had never considered himself particularly handsome. Just a man. But this man had a good body -strong, healthy, taller than most. He was good at his job- effective, respected, he had earned his position. He knew not to get into other people’s business, and he had a decent sense of humor. Some women had even complimented his accent- apparently his voice was quite attractive. The few that had seen his face hadn’t complained, either.

Obviously, he didn’t expect everyone to be interested in him. Simon knew the mask weirded some people out. But it wasn’t the mask, was it?

It was him.

You looked at him like he was the president of the welcoming committee of the four horsemen of the apocalypse. Like you’d shoot him if he took a step too close (he never stood within less than six meters from your personal space, mind you). Whenever he entered the room, you stabbed him with your side eye. If Ghost had to walk past you in the hallway, you’d stick to the wall like a fucking tree frog, for God’s sake. And he hadn’t even talked to you directly.

Simon hadn’t been able to wrap his head around it.

Until now, that is. After you had been chosen to go with the team to a mission. One that was supposed to be easy. In and out. No more than a couple hours. No finding a place to stay the night. No ending up divided in a couple different locations. And definitely no spending the night hiding with you.

Alone.

There had been bullets flying everywhere. He was calm, fast. You knew better than to give him dirty looks when he dragged you to safety. But you were looking at him now. And he was terrified.

All this time, the scarred, broken kid inside him had recognized the scared, lost kid inside you. Ghost had seen himself in you.

But you had seen someone else in him.

His broad figure and trained muscles weren’t attractive, were they? They were menacing. His stealth, aim and training weren’t worthy of admiration, but fear. The hard-earned respect, the power, was nothing but a weapon, a strategic position from which to attack. Your dirty looks were the hate you had spent years nursing. God, the way you pressed against the wall in the hallways- your most basic instincts keeping you away from the predator.

Simon is a threat to you.

And you’re looking at him as if he was his father.

Ghost stares back at you from across the abandoned building you’re going to have to spend the whole night in. He’s going to be sick- you look sick. Simon knows how you feel. Being trapped in a house with a man who can beat you into a bloody pulp. Someone bigger, stronger and more powerful. Big body, hard knuckles and labored breath. Next to him, you’re so small. You’re weaker, have less experience and power over him. And you can’t leave: it would be worse. You’re trapped with him.

Alone.

It kills him, the way you step away from his body as soon as you can. How you don’t look him in the eyes, following his hands instead. He feels disgusting.

Simon takes a deep breath and forces his voice to sound calm- he’s not- and quiet.

“You alright? No wounds?”

He knows both answers: no and no. But he has to ask. Has to let you know he cares. He’s on your side. Here to take care of you. Not to hurt.

You shake your head.

“Good. Gonna stay ‘ere tonight. The others can’t be far. Contact Price to let ‘im know our position.”

A nod. He’s used to giving orders, but right now his voice sounded harsher than he would have liked to hear. Ghost winces.

“Thank you.”

It’s the surprise in your eyes that ignites his hope. He’s not an asshole. Maybe.

You don’t trust him, either way. After you eat- pressed against the wall, knees between you and him-, it’s time to prepare for the night. Simon knows how he’d feel if he was in your place. He’s more than sure you’re not happy sleeping in the same room as the big, creepy guy with military equipment who reminds you of a nightmare.

He takes off the gloves first. Someone told him he has nice hands, once. They’re brutal. But human. The mask is next. Usually- always- it stays on during missions, even if they last days. He can make an exception. His naked hand undresses the chin, the mouth, the nose- the scars. Simon bats his short eyelashes, as if the dim light of the sun setting was bothering him- he wants to show you he’s weak. He can be.

You stare at him from the other side of the room, still, a deer in headlights. Simon tucks the mask and his gloves into one of his pockets. Decides he’s keeping the bulletproof vest. But he can spare his gun. And the sniper rifle. And his knives- except for the one hidden inside his pants: he’s not undressing in front of your terrified eyes, and at least he has something to defend himself with, in case the enemy finds you. Everything else goes into a pile on the floor. He then steals a glance at you.

You’re looking at him unsure. He’s not only your superior, but a ruthless soldier. This is not the protocol. In fact, he’s being quite stupid by choosing to spend the night disarmed.

Simon shrugs. He’s not going to explain himself to you.

“’s uncomfortable to sleep with all that metal. ‘m a fucking bell.”

You give him another nod. It’s weird, how much you talk around other people. You’re usually loud, even your laugh. You laugh with other people. He’s seen you laugh at Soap’s jokes. He’s heard you teasing him about his accent.

Or, rather than that, the weird thing is how quiet you are next to him.

Ghost likes his recruits obedient and focused. Makes it easier to give orders if people have a cool head and are ready to follow. But you’re not. You’re ready to fight, flight or freeze, and you don’t trust him. You don’t trust he’ll keep you alive and well. Because you’re too busy making sure he can’t hurt you.

Except he can. He could. If he wanted. He doesn’t. For the life of him, he does not want to hurt you. Simon himself is terrified of the possibility.

Ghost knows it’s an absurd idea. He has no reason to. He is your superior, and you’re together in this. You’re supposed to watch each other’s backs. To be a team.

But right now, all you are is terrified.

And he doesn’t know how to make it stop. So he resorts to giving you choices.

“Wan’ the first watch?”

Say no, and he’ll make sure not even a cockroach crosses that door. You’ll be safer than in base.

You nod.

He bares his neck. Ghost has seen your teeth, and they’re more than enough to cause serious damage. Go on, he’s telling you, make sure I can’t fight back. Simon doesn’t say it, of course. Instead, he lays on the cold floor, away from the door and from you. Look, he’s out of the way. You can run, if you want to. You can wait until he’s asleep, grab his weapons and disappear. You can hide somewhere else until the sun rises. He just knows you’re good at hiding. He turns his back to you. There, it is yours to stab. If he ever gave you any reason to feel like this about him, by all means, go on. End his misery. But, most importantly, end yours. Take your pick, he left you an arsenal. He’s dying a death by his own weapons either way.

The shadow your body casts on the wall stays still a long time. It’s been well after an hour since he slowed his breathing down when you finally move into a comfortable position. The ruffling of your clothes and the little sigh you let out make him feel a little less cold. A little less like a monster.

When the sun wakes him up the next morning, you’re still sleeping. Ghost should reprimand you severely; should have woken him up, should have made sure someone was watching the door. But he can’t find it in him to do it, to betray this shadow of trust.

So Simon takes a mental picture of your relaxed face- he’s never seen it so close, it’s a sight worth risking his life for- and turns around. He pretends to sleep until you wake up and start making noise.

I hope you liked it, thanks again for the ask <3

If you (or anyone) have an idea/request/suggestion, I'll be happy to read them. It may take some time, but I promise I'll do my best. Also, I'm sorry if I made any mistakes, English is not my first language and today my brain was particularly confused. Just let me know and I'll fix it.

Masterlist here

[inkbats-writing]

Au where the differences between Danny's and Vlad's accidents had a larger effect on their halfa status than in Canon. Because when you get to it they were very different and the fact they had similar end results is annoying.

So imagine with me for this au that a halfa can be defined as a person dying while exposed to a massive amount of ectoplasm that it excellerates the ghost formation process but before the ghost can exit the body they are resuscitated binding the ghost to the human body.

With that definition nothing really changes regarding Danny's accident. He was electrocuted while within an activately forming portal. He was exposed and then presumably resuscitated by Sam and/or Tucker bringing him back. But it does change things for Vlad.

Vlad was hit with contaminated ectoplasm. Rushed to the hospital they're treating it like an exposure to a poisonous unknown substance. They try treatments that should flush it out or neutralize it. But it doesn't work. The amount is rising in his body and it hurts. It burns. It chokes his lungs, screaming as he was shot might have doomed him, and his bones feel like liquid even when not moving.

And he dies. Many times he dies with the hospital staff quick to bring him back fascinated by this weird and interesting case. But while the ectoplasm is enough to start forming his ghost half the contamination prevents it from forming fully before he is brought back.

So 'Plasmius' forms mind and obsession locked onto the pain and agony of his death but then he fades only to reform with the next death now with anger and hatred at his former friends for leaving him behind to fading and coming back with a desire to control.

And then on the final death...when the amount of ectoplasm in Vlad is both large and purer than it has been that final death finally forms Plasmius ghost form, but it forms wrong. Too many times did Vlad's ghost half change the source of his obsession but yet still remembering the precious, still consumed by them too.

So you get two beings then. Seperate but connected one cannot continue without the other. But unlike plasmius, vlad is not truly bound by an obsession like a ghost is. He is not forcibly stagnant with his emotions. He can still change and better himself without risking his health or core.

And vlad recovers, with Plasmius watching over his human half (weaker more frail but important and needing plasmius' protection to ensure they both survive) and vlad sees how destructive and cruel and evil his other half is and feels guilt at what he indirectly created.

He is to blame for Plasmius (or he feels that way) and he does his best to mediate the damage the ghost will do in his desire to follow his obsessions. He can't stop it all but plasmius will often let him choose the target (sometimes the best you can do is making something hurt less than it could instead of stopping it outright) but he knows this can't be a permanent solution not with plasmius worsening obsession with vlad as a person himself.

That's all I really have for that but I just kinda wanted to write it down ya know?

[honey-minded-hivemind]

How do the angels react when their kids come back (and Morph)?

Morph:

Okay! So, here's what happens:

After the apocalypse, Death appoints the adult mutants to be guardians, Angels/Protectors, to the Horsemen, as both a blessing and curse. They'll never be able to harm them or think of harming them again amd will be reminded of their crime, which akso getting to help care for them and nurse them back to health and protect them forevermore...

Sabretooth, as the Angel of Death, has the ability to bring the kids back to life. He starts with Remy, and is nuzzling him and wiping away the grave dirt... He's gentle, holding him close, wrapping a blanket or cloak around Remy, as they trek back to the temple... from there, Xavier and Hank are able to keep Remy sedated, using medicine made from Lethe to cleanse his blood and wash away the past... and when Remh wakes up, he's being cuddled, fed, and kept close at all times... (his head feels soft, like someone wrapped wool around it... but he feels calm when Victor and Logan and Hank are there, like they're guardians or parents...)

Xavier, as the Angel of War, is helped by Sabretooth and Remy to bring Scott back. Xavier has to calm his mind before sedating Scott, then taking him back to have his wounds closed and tended to... Scott is kept unconscious for awhile so he can heal (and so he doesn't fight back before the medicine takes effect)... but when he wakes up, groggy and tired, he's pulled into Xavier's lap, his hair is stroked, and Logan is there, too, rubbing his back and asking if he needs anything... he doesn't know why, but being near them feels warm... and then another is brought in, and he feels even better... (his sibling! It's Death! He's there, he waited for him!)

Wolverine, as the Angel of Famine, is quick to scoop Reader's body up, and is careful to not jostle them as they go back home... Reader is kept sedated for a very long time, as their body has to be cleansed and mended and fed, and they'd fight them if awake... Logan keeps them company, and Sabretooth stalks in with Remy, promising lots of food and sacrifice when they're better, and how they'll get to sleep in their large nest... Reader, upon waking up on accident one day, leaves... (the Angels and Horsemen are anxious, where are they, where did they go, they need to find them, NOW-!!!)

Magneto, as the Angel of Plague, doesn't leave Pietro alone for a minute. He and Hank amd Xavier work around the clock to cleanse his body of the lingering poison, they make sure his mind is healing, amd take extra care he can't leave them (not like Famine, they must be so hungry, they have to keep Pietro safe for them-)... He missed his son, and reads to him... he speaks of happy endings and daring adventures, hoping his son is feeling better, cared for, at peace...

(Beast is an Angel of Plague and Death, and helped heal the kids and turn the Lethe juice and essence into medicine and salves... he also made sure to discover new medicines and cures and plants, and has a whole library built to contain the knowledge of diseases and cures and flora and fauna...) (Storm is an Angel of Famine amd War, who keeps waters clean and sends rain to help crops grow and sends lightning lightning help burn undergrowth that choke the trees... she is there for the kids, reads to them, and makes sure to find them warm sheets and blankets so they aren't cold...) (Mystique is an Angel of Death and War, who keeps the people at ease, and the children as well... she's careful in what she says, and helps Hank or Erik when needed...)

The adults are so happy to see Morph alive and well, and Morph is quick to fight them- and after the fight, says they're glad to see them again! Wow, a whole decade gone! And they caused the end times!? Well, talk about a self-fulfilling prophecy! They make sure their kinda kids/kinda siblings are alright, they let the others snuggle them and offer free food and sacrifice, and they make sure that the Horsemen can't leave and don't want to leave... even if it means being sneaky and making sure they drink their juice... (Logan is crying when he sees Morph, and hugs the snot out of them) (Ororo also cries, and is pushing food their way) (Hank is giving them a check-up and saying how glad he is they're back) (Victor claps them on the back and says he can't wait to spar with them again) (Raven smiles, and they share some wine later) (Charles and Erik are quick to apologize, and they also make sure they have Lethe given to them)

[ceasarslegion]

I think the internets idea of activism really kinda lost the plot a bit when it said "if you don't put everything you have into every single little issue worldwide 24/7 then you arent doing enough. Why are you spending your time on restoring your urban areas biodiversity when there's starving children in Africa? Clearly you don't care about dying children when you bought a new game instead of donating that to a gofundme, you selfish asshole"

Like guys historically and practically you are just going to burn out permanently and get the idea of activism poisoned for your psyche if you spread yourself that thin, historically and practically the most effective activists are people who choose ONE cause they are passionate about and dedicate all that energy to that ONE thing, while also prioritizing their own lives and mental health and yes, that includes their own pleasure and entertainment. That doesn't mean they don't care about other things, that doesn't mean they are selfish jerks, because guess what happens if you demand people burn themselves out or they aren't doing "enough"?

You get a whole bunch of people who would've dedicated themselves to the causes you want them to who are too exhausted to try any longer. Congratulations

[pastrydragon]

What do the rogues smell like? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

I know you probably asked this as a joke but I thought deeply about it anyway so here you go!

Riddler:

Lemon and lavender soaps.

Edward's dad was a hoarder and so Edward has a thing about his space being clean.

when he got his first apartment he kept it obsessively clean and as a side effect of this the place always smelled like the lemon and lavender cleaning products he'd scrubbed the place with.

And since this was the first place Edward ever felt safe, he ended up associating those scents with safety.

So all his soap and cleaning products to this day are either lemon or lavender scented, so he inevitably ends up with a near permanent air freshener like scent.

Scarecrow:

Pumpkin pie now but used to smell like chemicals.

Harley got him a basket of pumpkin spice everything as a gift for his birthday one year after he developed a toxin variation that was particularly pungent and he wasn't gonna waste perfectly good hygiene products!

And he has a genuine love for pumpkin taste so he keeps cans of it around to put in his pancakes every morning.

So yeah, The Master Of Halloween smells like thanksgiving.

You can still smell the chemicals if you get close though.

Mad hatter:

“Iris Poudre” by Frederic Malle, he doesn’t care that it’s a women’s perfume, he wants to smell like a sexy flower garden and everyone else can mind their own business.

Under the perfume he smells like whatever tea he drank that day and possibly like whatever sugary treat he baked to go with it.

Unless he's been in his lab all day, then he smells like metals and plastic.

And once in a blue moon when he needs to do some intense testing, cool ranch Doritos.

Except he never brings food down there with him so how....?

Mr. Freeze:

His condition causes him to have a permanent fresh snow smell which he was pleasantly surprised by.

Like the other scientists on this list carries a kind of "laboratory smell" with him.

His suit smells... weird. Like you can smell that a person was there but there's no sweat smell and its honestly a little off-putting. Luckily he cleans it very regularly.

He used to wear “Angel’s share” by Killian because Nora has good taste and wasn’t gonna let her husband smell like detergent and nothing else.

He'll start wearing it again when she wakes up.

Penguin:

“Tobacco Vanille” by Tom Ford mainly. The man wants to ooze class.

He also wears it because he always has a cigar after his lunch and dinner so he needs to wear something he knows won't clash scents with his Arturo's.

And if you're thinking that smell is strong, that's on purpose.

Oswald has a small group of birds in his atrium that he cares for personally out of affection, and because of that if you get right up close to him you’ll smell bird cage. Not great.

He might also smell like seafood after meals but not really in a bad way, more in a "Well fuck, now I'm craving Red Lobster!" way.

TwoFace:

“REPLICA jazz club” Because before he was Twoface he was a snazzy lawyer who wanted to smell like how big band music sounds.

There's also the medicine he puts on his acid burns which smells exactly how you’d expect it to.

The two mixing together isn't unpleasant but it is a bit confusing to get a whiff of if you don't know who it's coming from.

It smells kinda like an expensive hospital room.

He might also smell like Bloody Mary's if he's had a bad day.

Harley:

“Tutti Fruity Candy” by Bath and bodyworks

Unless she’s going to one of Oswald’s fancy parties, Then she wears “Into The Night”…. Also by bath and bodyworks.

She also smells a bit like bubblegum.

She smells like how a slumber party feels I think.

Just smells like fun!

Catwomen:

Has accumulated an impressive collection of expensive perfumes as gifts from various gentleman friends over the years and uses them almost at random so literally no one knows until she shows up.

She also smells a bit like cats.

Poison Ivy:

ROSES

Like a very aggressive rose smell.

Like you aren’t allowed to wear rose scented perfume in Gotham because it makes people try to evacuate the area.

Ivy could smell like any flower she wanted of course.

But who doesn't love roses?

Bane:

Harley strikes again and got him Dr. Squach products because he's Mr. manly man and she thought it was funny.

He shares John's "waste nothing" philosophy and used all of it, then bought more because he liked it.

His favorite scent is alpine sage but he changes it up sometimes.

He also smells like 24 hour fitness, because obviously.

He might also smell like peanut butter protein shakes.

Bookworm:

Musty dusty book smell.

He smells like a socially awkward moth eaten carpet.

He smells like an old arm chair with a cat sitting in it.

He smells like cocoa butter because he is an ashy bitch who needs to be moisturized.

Please buy him some cologne.

Killer Croc:

Waylon's home may be in the sewer but his home also happens to be beachfront property, so he smells like ocean mainly.

With all his free time between heists and such, Waylon often takes on elaborate cooking projects with a focus on BBQ and smoking meat. Which means he smells like a plethora of kitchen spices, smoke and herbs.

Maybe it's the alligator skin, maybe it's the jackets he wears, but he always smells a little like leather.

So the entire effect is "Bar and grill by the ocean with those really nice leather booths"

Please make him into a cologne.

Music Meister:

He avoids scented products to avoid irritating his respiratory system in any way.

So He just smells like a clean human.

Possibly lemon and honey from trying to soothe those vocal cords with weak tea.

Joker:

Is also a basic bath and bodyworks bitch, he wears “Among The Clouds”. 

He does class it to the roof for formal events though and switches to "English Promenade 19" By Krigler.

If you catch him without any scent on he smells slightly acidic and some other rogues would describe him as smelling "sickly". He's not physically sick as his doctors can attest, in fact his chemical bath raised the PH across his body so he can't even get most diseases anymore.

Because of this he can tend to overdue it on the scent to hide the sickly and chemical smells.

Like Jervis, Joker often smells like his baking projects. (Except the project is almost exclusively some sort of pie.)

[sciencelings-arts]

I will never forgive capcom for naming this guy Phoenix and not making him a little magical

Closeups and symbolism under the cut, you guys know me, I gotta ramble

Lie detector mode activated, I just think it would be neat if people could tell when he can see people’s lies, make him a little unsettling, just for funsies

Idk I’m just real proud of the magatama and its lighting, also I gave him burn scars from The Bridge, there’s just no way he came out of that with just a cold.

Bisexual color scheme let’s go, when Mia adopts him as her little brother he gets one of her magatamas to symbolize his connection to the Fey family. Also bc it confused me as to why she’s depicted with two different colored ones, so she has a spare that she hands off to Phoenix lol.

Close ups bc I wanted to talk some more, firstly the symbolism of the star earring, so the WAA has their own obvious celestial thing going on, Sun- Apollo, Moon- Athena, and so I decided that the Stars- the Wrights. I like leaning into the idea that both him and Trucy are at their core, performers. There’s also the association of luck and wishes that come with shooting stars that I think vibes with him idk.

Also I gave him sectoral heterochromia in the shape of the magatama so it can glow when he uses it and it just looks cool man

One more thing, his hair. I like the idea that when he ate the necklace he didn’t just get scars on his lips from crunching the glass as frantically as he could manage, but the poison left behind bleached his hair and fucked him up a little more than what’s in the games. Also it looks kinda cool. I love permanent effects (physical or otherwise) of traumatic experiences!

Another magatama color but I also wanted to talk about his clothes, the buttons are based off of the sparkle in the ace attorney logo and the buttons on Ryunosuke’s clothes in TGAA

And bc I like connecting characters to each other, the diamond pattern is obvious Trucy coded. I also like the idea that his waistcoat is something of a mix between a corset, a back brace, and a bullet proof vest. I think that would be nice for him. That didn’t do much to change its design I just thought about it.

[tarsusingkirk]

i think difanghua fic that plays more with being hornie. like everyone is wearing long sleeved robes, there's hardly any skin showing. the best we get from normal people is a quick glimpse of slender wrists bones.

like yes, li lianhua was allowed to be a lil bit of a slut (affectionate) a few times, bare arms whn digging/cooking/farming, exposed chest courtesy of fang duobing but listen

more of that.

li lianhua stripping in the privacy of the lotus tower because he got all sweaty from gardening but fang duobing and/or di feisheng are there because they are obnoxious and want to be fed food. like he just walks up to his bed and loosens his belt, and starts pulling his outer robes away as he complains about how hot he is. fang duobing has a midlife crisis, oscillating between running up to him and turning on his heel so he can't see. di feisheng just sits at the table and drinks some tea, ignoring li lianhua('s purposeful show).

fang duobing turns to this placidly calm di feisheng whining in a slight hiss, 'why are you just looking!'

feisheng doesn't even shrug. 'nothing i haven't seen before.'

duobing almost qi deviates right then and there.

-

di feisheng tromping back to the lotus tower with half his robes, just, burned off. he stomps all the way into the eating area, past fanghua and then comes to an abrupt stop as he starts tearing at the remains of his robes. First, he pulls at the burned tatters on his shoulders, letting them fall still held up by his belt and then he turns around a pissed off look on his face.

'cultivators are fools.'

but duobing isn't really, can't, paying attention to whatever his lao di is saying because he just got an eye full of sweaty pecs and hard stomach, both smeared in ash.

and lianhua is standing behind duobing fingers fanned over his smirking mouth. he calls after duobing a couple of times before hitting duobing's shoulder, 'go get some towels for him, xiaobao.'

duobing pops up like an erratic metal spring, as feisheng crosses his arms, still glaring.

'ayio, ah-fei, the flexing was a bit much, wasn't it?'

-

fang duobing gets a face full of mildly poisonous powder and feihua force him to disrobe so it doesn't make him incredibly sick.

'xiaobao, come. you need to take off your clothes.' li lianhua says, reaching out and tugging at duobing's upper sleeve.

duobing's face is already slightly flush, eyes glassey as he sniffs and pushes lianhua's hand away. 'no, it's fine. they said it was only kinda poiso--'

he cuts himself off with a sneeze that leaves him lightheaded and swaying into di feisheng's side.

'i have no problem slicing your clothes off, fang duobing.' feisheng says, deep voice vibrating into duobing's shoulder from where it rests against feisheng.

duobing startles, jumping back slightly and then swaying a bit too far more before feisheng reaches out scruffs him like a wet cat. 'no, no, no. i'll-- okay, please don't.'

he starts with picking at the ties of his sleeves before lianhua slaps his clumsy fingers away and does it himself. sniffing, duobing realizes lao di is still scruffing him in silence, which is fine because he doesn't think he can stand by himself anymore.

when he feels the cool press of Lianhua's hands against his bare skin he refocuses. Lianhua's hand is wrapped loosely around his exposed wrist, fingers pressing into his forearm just enough he can feel their slight roughness, can see how tan lianhua's fingers look against his paler skin. his own fingers curl as he watches lianhua push his loosened sleeve up then remembers he's trying to get out of his robes. he brings his free hand up to his chest, going to pull at his robes. he pulls at his lapels, slowly loosening his outer robes until they are loose about his shoulders, one side drooping down and exposing the thin whites of his under robes. it makes him shiver, or maybe its the effects of the poison, they way he can feel lao di's strong hand slide down his back over his outer robes and then back up over his inner robes.

-

I WAS TRYING TO BE CHASTE AND SENSUAL BUT NOO THIS IS JUST HORNIE ON MAIN OTL

[cheapsweets]

A Menagerie of Miscelaneous Snakes

My response to this week’s BestiaryPosting challenge, from @maniculum

Pencil sketch, then lines in TWSBI Eco fountain pen, extra fine nib, using Monteverde Raven Noir ink. Another mass grouping where I tried to include every one (the names are mostly on there so I could keep track!); I feel like doing the pencil sketch first helped a bit with the detail, but loses a little something compared to the spontaneity of the miscellaneous birds...

A little detail below the cut;

Snake

The snake is also called coluber, either because it lives in the shadows, colere umbras, or because it wriggles along in a slippery way, in sinuous coils. For anything that slithers when you hold it, like a fish or a snake, is called lubricus, ‘slippery’. The snake gets its name, serpens, because it creeps up under cover, not by visible steps, but crawling along by the tiniest movements of its scales. Creatures which go on four feet, like lizards and newts are called not snakes but reptiles. Snakes are reptiles too, because they crawl, reptare, on their chests and bellies. There are as many poisonous snakes as there are species; as many which bring death or suffering, as there are colours among them.

Sinuous, coiled, hiding in shadow. This was the one I did first, and still one of the ones I'm most pleased with.

Mlegtugwam

The Mlegtugwam is so called because it injects poisons with its bite, spreading them throughout the body. It moves quickly with its mouth always open and emitting vapour. There are various kinds and species of Mlegtugwams which inflict harm with different effects. It is said that when the Mlegtugwam begins to endure a snake-charmer summoning it with music designed for that purpose, to bring it out of its cave, and it does not want to come out, it presses one ear to the ground, and blocks and covers the other with its tail, and deaf to those magic sounds, does not go out to the man who is charming him.

Hopefully this one is obvious from the description of the behaviour, kinda cute :)

Girtranaeg

The snake called Girtranaeg gets its name because it glitters with such a variety of colour on its back that it slows down those who look at it on account of its markings. And because it is not a keen crawler and cannot overtake the prey it pursues, it catches those who are stunned by the marvel of its appearance. It gets so hot that even in winter it casts off its burning skin, something to Lucan refers: ‘The Girtranaeg alone can shed its skin while the rime is still scattered over the ground’

This was probably the one I spent most time on. Hopefully its obvious that we're in a melted patch of snow, and we have the shed skin by the side.

Hrukgolklo

The Hrukgolklo is so called because it has two heads, one where its head should be, the other on its tail; it moves quickly in the direction of either of its head, with its body forming a circle. Alone among snakes it faces the cold and is the first to come out of hibernation.  Its eyes glow like lamps.

Big, glowing eyes, and a tail with markings that make it look like another head. This one confused me a bit, in terms of how it moved; I ended up assuming that it bites its tail (whether intentionally or not) then rolls along like a hoop snake...

Thagolgrom

The Thagolgrom is a kind of asp, called [redacted] in Latin, because those it bites die of thirst.

This snake is sitting in a mazer, a kind of wooden drinking vessel used in middle and late medieval Northern Europe. We also have a slighly wave-like pattern on its scales, to represent water.

Shabalrang

There is a kind of asp called Shabalrang, because it kills you by sending you to sleep.

Needed some way of representing sleep, so we have a snake whose scale markings appear like the phases of the moon.

Tafmiwukri

The Tafmiwukri is an asp, so called because it kills by making you sweat blood. If you are bitten by it, you grow weak, so that your veins open and your life is drawn forth in your blood.

Another snake with symbolism in its scales, a big obvious blood drop on its head, and smaller ones along its flanks.

Krefemklog

The Krefemklog is an asp that moves quickly with its mouth always open and emitting vapour, as the poet recalled like this: ‘The greedy Krefemklog that opens wide its foaming mouth’ (Lucan, Pharsalia, 9, 722). If it strikes you, you swell up and die of gross distention, for the swollen body putrefies immediately after.

This originally started as a Mlegtugwam, above, but I emphasised the foaming mouth alongside the vapours. This was based largely on a boa with its mouth open - snake mouths are very interesting anatomically!

Kraehozdim

The Kraehozdim is a snake found in Italy; it is of a vast weight; it follows flocks of cattle and of gazelles, fastens on their udders when they are full of milk and sucking on these, kills the animals; from its ravaging of oxen, it has got its name [redacted].

Simply a large snake with behaviour based on the description. The startled cow was based on a medieval illustration, but heavily simplified.

Nrogklongo

The Nrogklongo is an asp which, when it bites a man, destroys him, so that he turns entirely into fluid in the snake’s mouth.

Looks like this man has already turned to fluid due to this asp's venom... Drink up!

Samgleshti

The Samgleshti is so called because it has horns on its head like a ram’s. [Etymology redacted.] It has a set of four small horns and, displaying them, it persuades animals that they are good to eat, then kills its prey; for it covers its entire body with sand, so that no trace of it shows, except the part with which it catches the birds or animals it has attracted. It bends more than other snakes, so that it seems to have no spine.

I probably should have focused on the behaviour too here, but we have a snake with four horns in a sandy environment, extra wiggly!

Zriggwanto

The Zriggwanto is a flying serpent, mentioned by Lucan. For they spring into trees and when anything comes their way, throw themselves on it and kill it. As a result, they are called ‘javelin-snakes’.

I interpreted flying in this case as 'hurtling through the air from a high place', rather than actually having the power of flight.

Kramlengga

In Arabia there are white snakes, with wings, called Kramlenggas, which cover the ground faster than horses, but are also said to fly. Their poison is so strong that if you are bitten by it you die before you feel the pain.

This one on the other hand is an actual flying - or at least gliding - snake. I figured it you extend the hood of a cobra along its whole body (and make it a fair bit wider) it would have a pretty good chance of catching a breeze.

Galwinglik

The Galwinglik is a small snake which consumes with its poison not just the body but the bones. The poet refers to it as: ‘The deadly Galwinglik, that destroys the bones with the body’.

I figured it it eats bones, it should be quite a chunky snake; think an egg-eating snake, but with the power to crush the (small) bones of its prey after eating them, rather than before.

Yeakrindra

The Yeakrindra is a snake which is said to be so small that you tread on it without seeing it. Its poison kills you before you feel it, with the result that the face of anyone dying in this way shows no sadness from the anticipation of death.

Teeny tiny snek! 🐍

[dangraccoon]

Enough Time

Day 14 ~ venom ~ (Alt. Prompt)

Tech

Word Count: 1641 Content: blood, gore (kinda), violence/fighting, poison, coughing up blood, dying, saying goodbye, near death experiences, brainwashing Mando'a: su cuy'gar - greeting, Hello! (you're alive) "Gar duur ganar nakar’mir ibac tekay gar ru’goorar garast at gar kyr’am" - you may have not known that since you threw yourself to your death "vod" - sibling/brother

Tech had never really cared for dirt. Unsurprisingly, it was an inevitable side effect of his work, and it wasn’t as though it truly bothered him if he did get dirty. 

But as he was now face down in it, blood dripping and pooling in it from the cuts and gashes his opponent bestowed on him, he found that there were many other places he’d rather be.

For example, his bed in his family’s house seemed a good option. Or, perhaps, the couch—if the lurca hound his sister picked up would allow it. His partner’s house or ship would do nicely as well, though he’d feel worse for bleeding on her possessions. He fought tooth and nail to get back here–couldn’t he rest now?

He blinked, the scars that stretched across the tender flesh around his eyes twinged. His family. His partner. Right. 

He pushed himself up, arms aching and trembling slightly. 

His opponent noticed. Damn.

“I’m sure your efforts could be considered valiant,” the clone assassin mocked. “Yet, I’m sure you know they are in vain.”

Tech chose not to respond. It wasn’t as though he could reason with his assailant. 

His stolen pistol lay in the dirt, the distance far too great to bother reaching for it, so he raised his arms, easily falling into a hand-to-hand stance. He’d been fighting this way all his life. 

The clone assassin’s face was hidden behind that dark visor, but Tech knew how it looked. It looked like every other reg that bullied him and his brothers. 

The CX tossed his blaster aside carelessly. “You are more of a fool than I was led to believe.”

Tech swung at him, cursing the way the CX dodged easily. 

“You can’t beat me,” he taunted, as his quick jab landed against Tech’s ribs. 

Tech groaned as he hit the ground. As he got back up, he spared a glance behind him. 

Numerous citizens of Pabu were still loading onto the ship Echo brought as their homes burned.

His eyes found his loved ones, all helping the others onto the ship.

“Y-you will…not harm… my people,” Tech growled. “You will not… harm my family.”

He advanced on the other assassin with a renewed fervor, blows meeting blocks. His rage–his desire to defend the people he loved–pushed him to be faster, hit harder, and show no mercy.

He began to grapple with the assassin, the two rolling across the cobblestone. 

He found an opportunity to kick the other off of him, the clone hitting the ground with a sickening thud.

Distantly, he heard an exclamation.

Omega, standing at the opening of the ship, calling something to the others.

“You are pathetic,” the assassin sneered as he used Tech’s distraction to slash at his arm with his concealed knife. “You were one of us! You had everything!”

Tech knew what that blade was coated in; he’d carried the same concoction before he awoke. 

Venom 72, he thought as the world began to spin. He had no time. He never had enough time. The citizens were still loading onto the ship. They had to get away or risk being shot down or tracked.

As the assassin rose to his knees, Tech charged him, kicking his helmet, swiftly removing it and revealing an irate reg. His blaster wasn’t far–he could end this madness.

He ran at it, grabbing it as he rolled, and steadied himself. Just as the reg stood over him, he pulled the trigger.

The clone flew backward, a hole between his eyes still burning.

Tech fought to catch his breath, pushing himself to his hands and knees, but his left arm went weak beneath him. He stumbled, barely managing to catch himself enough to fall on his back.

He heard more shouts, approaching. The familiar voices of his squad–his family–surrounded him.

Through wavering vision he saw them, forming a ring around him, weapons precisely aimed. Omega, Hunter, Wrecker, Echo, Phee–

He almost couldn’t believe it. “C-Cross,” he gasped, his helmet picking up and distorting his voice.

Tech’s twin looked startled.

“Friend of yours?” Hunter growled, his grip on his pistol tightening.

“M-my helm–... has voc-coder…’m Te– ha-voc t-t–”

Omega, ignoring the protests of the others, edged near to him.

“What did you say?” she asked calmly, her eyes wide.

Tech coughed. “Hav– havoc… two.”

Omega dropped her crossbow, falling to her knees beside him.

The others tensed as he reached for her. She groaned as she grasped the sides of his helmet, wrenching it off of him. His brothers exploded in various curses and statements of awe.

“Tech!” Omega cried, wrapping her arms around him.

“Maker, it’s really you,” Phee gasped, her blaster falling to the ground as she came to his side. Her hands–he’d nearly forgotten the warm, calloused texture– cupped her face.

The others quickly abandoned their weapons, all circling him. Their joy and relief flooded him but was stopped short as he coughed violently into the back of his hand. When he pulled it away, he saw the spatter of blood and tasted the rust in his mouth.

Omega’s eyes went wide as Tech’s vision spun.

“The v-venom,” he croaked, pulling his arm, fully numb forward to show the slash. “Th- oth’r …’sassin.”

“How do we reverse it?” Echo asked.

“C-can’t–”

“I just got you back, Brown Eyes,” Phee scowled, and Tech could see tears streaking down her face. “I’m not losing you again.”

“P– p‘gress’d too far,” he slurred. His hand reached out for hers. She caught it, squeezing gently. “Le’ me… go…”

“No,” Phee and Omega said in unison.

He watched as Hunter and Crosshair ransacked the body of the other assassin. Echo searched Tech’s own pockets.

He coughed again, doubling over. He could feel his consciousness waning.

Echo produced a wide-mouthed vial from Tech’s pocket.

“Is this it?” he asked, grasping Tech’s uninjured arm. “Is this the same stuff?”

Tech tried to answer but coughed again. He nodded weakly.

Echo ran toward the crowds of Pabu residents, all coming out to see the commotion. “Are any of you a healer or a medic? Or– or a chemist?” 

Tech looked up into Phee’s eyes. His vision was barely a pinhole now, but he could still make out that soft, warm brown. “Should–” he coughed again. “Have tol’ you…’m in l-love.”

Phee smiled through the tears she tried desperately to hold back. “Shh, I-I know, Tech,” she whispered. “I’ve always known that.”

“St-still should–”

“Shh, sweetheart, save your strength,” she pleaded. “You can tell me a million times when you’re better.”

He felt like he was coughing more than breathing at this point. As his lungs seemed to constrict more than they possibly should, he wished the vile substance had affected his mind more; being cognizant of everything that was happening to him and being near powerless to stop it was the perfect torture. 

“M-mega?” he rasped.

“No,” his sister cried. “You’re not leaving again– you can’t!”

“L-listen–”

“No!”

“Wrecker!” Echo shouted. “Grab him and get over here!”

Phee and Omega barely dodged the man as he scooped Tech into his arms.

“I gotcha, Techie,” he said as he began to run towards Echo, the rest of their family trailing close behind. “Echo’s got somethin’ to fix ya right up, jus- jus’ hang on.”

Tech tried to reiterate that it was too late. A few of the words that he’d expected to be his last echoed in his ears as he slipped from consciousness.

“There is no time.”

-

Not for the first time in his relatively short life, Tech was surprised to wake up.

Something in the back of his brain whispered against the panic beginning to rise in his throat. It’s okay. You’re safe.

No, that was incorrect; his brain wasn’t whispering to him. He knew that voice.

“Hu-Hunter?” he murmured, his vision blurry as his eyelids fluttered open. It was his room in their house on Pabu. 

“I’m right here, brother,” Hunter confirmed. Oh, his hand was on Tech’s shoulder. It was comforting. “How are you feeling?” 

Tech willed his supposedly brilliant mind to assess his state. “‘m I alive?”

Hunter chuckled quietly. “Yeah, T’ad’ika. You just managed to pull through.”

“Th-that is… surprising,” Tech breathed, earning a soft huff from his sergeant. “Where–”

“They’ve all got their ears pressed against that door,” Hunter smirked. They heard a few thunks and curses thrown. “We’ve been taking shifts sitting with you. Didn’t wanna overwhelm you with everyone right away.”

Tech nodded, wincing at the discomfort. 

“Yeah, try not to move too much,” Hunter cringed. “Your body’s still flushing out the toxin.”

“Right,” Tech said. “Think– I think I’m going to– to fall asleep.”

“That’s alright,” Hunter assured him.

“But they can… come in,” he said, his eyelids feeling extremely heavy. “Mi-missed you all.”

Hunter smiled and nodded. “Alright,” he said, raising his voice ever so slightly. “Come in– quietly.”

The door slid open, and his family piled into the small room. Omega pushed her way to the front, taking Hunter’s place at his side. Phee joined him on the other, taking his hand. He felt the bed shift under him as Echo sat. Wrecker stood at the end of the bed, looking like a bantha in an ordnance armory. 

Crosshair remained in the doorway.

Tech blinked lazily up at him. “Su cuy’gar,” he grinned.

Crosshair smirked. “Gar duur ganar nakar’mir ibac tekay gar ru’goorar garast at gar kyr’am. [You may have not known that since you threw yourself to your death.]

“Didn’t die,” Tech smirked. 

“Not for lack of effort, vod,” Echo chuckled. 

Tech half-chuckled as well, but he could feel his focus drifting in and out.

“It’s alright, Brown Eyes,” Phee smiled, her hand coming up to cup his cheek. “Rest now; we’ll be here when you wake up.”

It was the best sleep he’d gotten in a long time.

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Thanks for reading! - River

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