#venom mixing

[gatoburr0]

[lemonlurkrr]

collection of met gear stuff, new and old 👍

[vlasdygoth]

going ham with these crayolas recently

[kaijuparfait]

trying to learn how to tween in clip studio was like being pet with hot coals

55 days until (hopefully) wearing a suit made out of alien goo

[1nt3rnalpu7ref4ct10n]

"Just say Oncle.." - s1e1

[persistentplums]

Billy going from big fan of Rusty to positive friend of Rusty is beautiful but I still think he would looooose his mind when he finds out Pete and Doc have an off and on sexual relationship that kinda happens sometimes but not as much.

Ik Billy eye twitches when he thinks about it too hard but he is normal about it mostly just like. Your childhood hero/sorta hear me out/kid crush hooked up with your older years crush/other hear me out/kinda in a committed deep relationship with would make a mix of “okay stop bragging you guys fucked” and “Rusty that i know now making anyone cum wants to make me torpedo something”

Billy conflicted and also distantly like it’s weirdly good for him? Worlds collide and it’s mildly intriguing in a way where he’s like 🤔 am I…into it🤔

[chknbzkt]

WHAT IS DRAGON MOON FIRE COLOUR??

The loveliest shade of pink :) it burns that way for hours

[hastalavistabyebye]

Holos #5

Ao3 version

Loving Ponds was easy. One of the easiest things Bacara ever did. 

Sure, the days could be long and lonely, especially when traveling from one warzone to the other, or just after a cease fire when it was time to count the losses and try to erase their presence as much as could be in a destroyed landscape, battered in black, brown and white. During those times, in front of his waiting paperwork or while keeping his troops focused and organized for that hard last stretch, Bacara sometimes longed for the familiar warmth of his lover. How many times did he wish to discuss plans with Ponds, to ask for his opinion ? The Lighting Commander had a knack for strategy, his mind sharp and logical, always seeing the broader picture in more details and reading it more precisely than anyone else. Sometimes Bacara would have given anything to rely on his lover and his hindsight. How many times did he hold on to the memory of Ponds’ smiling eyes, on the knowledge that he’ll see him right after this unending campaign was over ? Pushing through was so much easier with the promise of getting back to his cyare at the end of it. 

But that was just the way of the Marines. As much as he could curse the distance between each of their leaves, he didn't mind much. 

Especially not when his comm chimed familiarly in rapid succession, distracting him from seeping his energy drink. He fetched it from where it was lying next to his freshly completed report. His hope of having news from Ponds, who was the usual culprit for spamming his comm like that, was sidetracked by his surprised happiness at seeing Neyo’s name displayed. He loved receiving messages from his little brother just as much. It was rare to get so many messages in so little time from him, though. Even more surprising was the discovery that it was mostly holos. Did the two 91st Commanders mix up their commlinks ? Bacara knew they were supposed to be in a joint mission at the moment, so it wasn't as improbable as one could think. 

A little bit perplexed, he opened the conversation and was met with several pictures of Ponds without the top of his armor and bucket, followed by the message “You sure you really want that one ?”. It was definitely Neyo who sent them to him then, most likely during one of their breaks, going by the way Ponds was dressed. 

In the first pictures, the Lighting Commander was crouching in front of a green snake with hirsute scales. They were looking at each other steadily, practically nose to nose. Ponds had that light in his eyes. Bacara wasn't surprised at all to see him reaching to try and coerce the reptile like one would do with a tooka, in the following holos Neyo had taken. Ponds could be just as bad as a Jedi when it was about befriending any random wild animal that had sparked his interest. He thankfully wasn't prone to take a particular liking to beast bigger than him. (Which was admittedly not the case of High General Windu.) 

The Marine Commander huffed fondly at the rest of the pictures. Ponds had somehow managed to get the snake to coil around his arms. He had stood up and was visibly cooing down at it before beaming up at the holocamera. He was glowing like a star, eyes crinkling at the sides and dimples in full display. Some cloud high above was casting shadows on his side, not reaching his face yet. Bacara could have swear it’d never darken his skin, not when Ponds was shining stronger than the sun as he was. 

The Marine was smiling softly down at his comm, soaking up the sight of the holos, when he noticed how close to Ponds’ neck the head of the snake had crept. 

“Please tell me it’s not venomous.” He sent to Neyo right away, a defeated weight settling down at the bottom of his stomach, heavy like durasteel. 

“You know I will never lie to you, ori’tat.” Was the quick answer, thankfully followed a few instants later by : “The Generals are supervising.”

Bacara closed his eyes with a deep sight. At least the Jedi were around. 

Loving Ponds was one of the easiest things Bacara ever did, as effortless and paramount as breathing. But sometimes he deplored falling for a member of the Shebse batch. 

The snake is a Hairy Bush Viper.

[scalemodelarbysreplica]

well uh. they parted.

[is-the-snake-video-cute]

I’m not a snake person but this feels… not healthy for snakes.

https://youtu.be/7c-1ALpQV3k

Link for everyone - this is a video of a baby and adult sand viper burying themselves in sprinkles.

So, the sprinkles themselves are fine. This is normal behavior and the sprinkles are actually something zoos and labs will do on occasion for enrichment, both because it's visually striking and is good for educational content and because the sprinkles are actually safer than sand for enrichment (sand can irritate eyes and scales, especially for captive snakes not used to it). It's not an appropriate full-time substrate, obviously, but it's also fine for short-term enrichment.

The issue with videos like this is always to be cautious of who is sharing it and why. This account (Callmethelamp) seems from a quick glance to be very, very bad for owning unethical pets and passing them off as "cool" and good pets. This includes not just reptiles that have no business in private homes, like venomous snakes and large monitors (they're also bad for posting videos of large monitors and being like "look at my weird dog" which is the kind of thing that will get people hurt, large monitors are dangerous wild animals and not pets), but also unethical mammal pets like sugar gliders. I'm not a fan of this account.

The video on its own is cute, but in context it's being used to make it seem like venomous reptiles are good pets.

[effroid]

[ostensiblyfunctional]

The range of Erik's potential diet is once again fascinating me, on the basis of the sheer number of things that can highly inconvenience/kill a human. Obviously there's the chemical/plant/animal poisons that first come to mind—y'know, arsenic, belladonna, the unpleasantness that happens if you try to eat a monarch butterfly, that sort of thing. And I do have fun wondering if Erik's the type of guy to just … snatch some poor, poisonously bright insect off the side of a trunk and pop it in his mouth, as is his due as a Dragon Slayer who are just kinda like that sometimes.

However. The thought of Erik carefully harvesting and making his own wild licorice and monkshood tisanes, making use of a well-loved copper teapot and his treasured, antique tea service painted with lead-based glaze … kicking back with a cordial of pure ethanol, and the cordial is of course made of lead crystal … Meredy wandering over to an unsupervised, brightly-colored cookpot because whatever's in there smells amazing, then suddenly Erik is tackling her away and shouting about the cyanide he just spiced his quail and grass pea soup with, did Oración Seis not tell her to not touch his cadmium-painted cookpots?! Just, Erik being fancy about his poison consumption, because humans sure have figured out a bunch of ways to really inconvenience themselves and he might as well take advantage of their mistakes.

Also, what counts as poisonous enough to use? Humans can intoxicate themselves on too much water. Can Erik use that? There are so many things that are nonlethally, and even unnoticeably, harmful to us, so how trace can a poison be before Erik can't convert it into magic? Carbon monoxide is a notoriously odorless, colorless gas that is very bad for us—can Erik convert a poison he can't perceive? Can he straight-up eat rotten food because it would otherwise be harmful for literally anything else to eat? Relatedly, does this mean he really likes fermented food, because that's essentially rotten food that humans like to eat? I have questions

[colderdrafts]

wait, wait!!

the creature is acting and talking in such annoying way that they get in reader's nervous, so the reader starts saying snarky things back and talking about how morgan is the best partner they could over have (and I don't know what else im just giving out ideas im terrible at writing dialogue lol)

(Continuation of another ask! When you finally get Morgan a night out and someone gives you a hard time about it) Love this idea. A little piece for this scenario below. R takes defensive positions :)

The idle conversations have started up around you again. Finally.

It’s always too eerily quiet when you and Morgan first arrive somewhere. At least until people realize that you’re not going to attack anyone. Now, you just need to relax, too.

The inside of the tavern is fairly standard of the common-folk world. Craftsmanship of the facilities are wooden and rustic, having several spots for comfortable seating. There’s a single bar managed by a large hare-woman, a scent of inebriated people and food in the air. The interior is bustling with common-folk utilizing the area for their late night rest, and a well-deserved drink after a long day’s work. From gruff-looking wolves to a sleek falcon, common-folk intend to get their fair share of winding down. And tonight, you and Morgan have joined them.

Well, 'joined', is perhaps generous. You’ve found a secluded corner to sit in, and most others make sure to stay a good distance away from you. You try to pay it no mind; Morgan is not exactly welcome in these spaces, after all. And, as their companion, neither are you. But, you’ve managed to convince the hare at the bar to provide an actual roof over your heads for the night, and food is on the way. That’s something. It might even smell like progress.

It took a lot of convincing on your part for Morgan to even consider spending a night in a place like this. Too many people, too little space to move around. Too exposed. But you’ve paid a hefty sum for a room, having an actual bed to look forward to, and a good meal that’s actually been stewing, and came from a pot. You're not about to give that up.

And so far, your efforts have paid off. Everything's been going surprisingly well, mostly. Even if Morgan's been switching between speaking with you, and keeping an eye on anything and everything moving inside the tavern. It’s an odd mixture. Their confidence might allow them to not be completely on guard, but their constant monitoring of vibrations in the air might make it difficult to stop.

To be fair, most patrons inside of the tavern seems hellbent on keeping an eye on Morgan, too. Perhaps it’s sensible they’d return the favor. Your arachnid companion has their usual unseemly aura in place, like just daring anyone to try and oppose their being here. It might fool a common-folk, but you can see what they're doing. It's a defense mechanism; you can't be hurt if you can't be approached. You really wish they didn’t think this was necessary.

But this is supposed to be a fun night out. You intend to make it so, in any case.

“Could you please calm down your feelers?” you ask Morgan, when they’ve been aloof for a little longer than usually. They’re staring dead ahead at a point behind you. You tap at their front leg with your foot to snap them out of it. “I think we’re fine.”

“Oh, I am completely calm,” Morgan purrs and smiles widely, still not looking at you. They don’t even blink. “That pale lizard over there, however, is clearly not.”

You glance over your shoulder at said lizard. Sure enough, the white scales of his head seems like they should be an angry red, judging by the way he’s glaring your direction.

“Well, obviously he’s not if you keep staring at him like that,” you argue, switching tactics and gently pulling at their hand instead. “Come on, can we just have a calm night? No fights, no threats, no blood, just – I want you to have a good time, for once.”

“Me?” Morgan grins, finally severing eye contact with their opponent to focus on you. Their hand promptly curls around yours. “Since when have you become so nice to me? Not that I’m complaining.”

Ugh. You knew you should never go there with Morgan, but perhaps that’s what’s needed. Give an inch, and all that. You’ll just have to hope they won’t take more than their usual mile.

"I've always been nice," you assert. "You just haven't earned experiencing it."

Morgan laughs, nodding at your hand in theirs. "So, what did I do to earn this?"

“Our dinner’s ready,” you deflect, noting two stewing, deep plates that’s just been delivered at the bar. Excellent timing. The barkeep’s eyeing you a bit excessively, perhaps reluctant to call you up. Simultaneously, she probably does not want Morgan to come collect the food.

Morgan’s eye darts to the bar. “I’ll go-”

“Sit,” you bark at them before they’ve even stretched a leg. The less risk of them bumping into someone, or, gods forbid, someone bumping into them, the better. “I’ll get it.”

You walk away before they can protest, ignoring the feeling of Morgan’s eyes burning into the back of your skull.

The barkeep looks relieved when you approach, and hands you your food. She holds onto the bowls momentarily as you grab them, preventing you from leaving quickly.

“Could you please tell your custodian to stop staring at my patrons?” the hare hisses lowly, urgently, ears flat against her head. “It’s making people uneasy. I gave you a room, but I don’t want-”

“YEP!” you interrupt, flashing her a strained smile. “I’ll get right on that.”

The barkeep narrows her eyes at your rudeness, continuing. “And when you sleep here, I don’t want any noise or unnecessary nightly wandering-”

“I know!” you interrupt her again, pulling at the food to get her to let go. You don’t have the time, nor patience, for the usual complaints. You need to get back before-

The barkeep's long ears suddenly stand up straight. She sucks in a startled breath, fixating on a spot behind you. Right. That.

You groan, and turn around, leaving your precious food in the barkeep's hands.

Morgan is unfortunately standing up. And, in front of them, is the very lizard they’ve spent the night staring at.

Said lizard is up in Morgan’s face, spewing words you can only imagine are not words of fondness. Either he's very brave, very good at fighting, or very drunk. Possibly all three.

By contrast, Morgan looks unpleasantly nonplussed, like they're casually wondering where best to grab on and start tearing.

“No,” you seethe. Absolutely not. Not tonight.

You march across the tavern in long strides toward the pair, prepared to put an end to this fight before it even starts.

“-don’t care where, but you’re not staying here!” the lizard’s voice reaches you through the idle noises of the crowd.

Morgan looks up at your approach, still not looking particularly affected, albeit slightly amused when they spot the look on your face.

You force yourself into the small space between the pair, your back against Morgan’s front. You suppress a shudder when you feel their hands softly coming to rest on your shoulders.

The lizard steps back once you do so, narrowing his eyes at you. He opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off by leaning into his space.

“I spend one night, trying to have a good time, that’s not inside a cave, high up in a tree, or sleeping on dirt, and then you-!” you scold the lizard-like person. “- just had to escalate things!”

The lizard takes the verbal hit silently and stares at you, baffled. Perhaps he’d not expected you would take up this fight. He frowns, regaining composure. “Listen here-”

“No, you listen!” you spit. Morgan's face enters your peripheral vision, a genuine surprised expression minutely replaced by a shit-eating grin full of teeth. You ignore them. “We want to stay in taverns sometimes! Why can’t you let us have that?”

“YOU are alright!” the lizard states with a hiss. He points a clawed finger at the large arachnid behind you. “That monster you’re hanging out with is not!”

“Monster?” Morgan scoffs and pouts, feigning hurt. “Why, you've barely seen anything. That’s a little excessive, don’t you think?”

“Not when it comes to you,” the lizard snarls back at them. “You nasty red-eyes especially."

"I think my eyes are pretty," Morgan says.

"Can’t believe you didn’t get snatched," the lizard continues, not listening. "Should’ve nailed you when they had the darn chance. Better off dead than adult.”

A miniscule pause is what changes this entire interaction. It’s not often Morgan reacts to the usual slander people throw their way. And if it wasn’t because of your bond, you probably wouldn’t have noticed it would be any different this time.

But there’s just the slightest little twist of their energy shifting, like being splashed with cold water. The comment hit something. Morgan's face doesn’t falter a bit, expertly holding up the nonchalant, unaffected facade. But their claws are scraping across the wooden floor, their grip on your shoulders tightening ever so slightly. You can feel their energy reaching for you to calm down, almost on instinct. For once, Morgan seems slightly, genuinely, upset.

You step into the lizard’s space again without warning, shoving him backwards and out of your corner. Interrupting your fun night out is one thing. Suggesting your companion should’ve been killed as a hatchling is quite another. You’ve just about had it.

“That monster has treated me better than any of you ever did,” you fume, walking the offender back to his own spot. “You lot have done nothing but cause problems. What gives you the fucking right to be judging life and death?”

Morgan doesn’t intervene, but their presence behind you is heavy and reassuring. Their energy is fluttering around you, leaning into your anger. Letting you know you’re not fighting alone.

“You’re completely brainwashed,” the lizard laughs coolly, waving you off. “As always. It’s filthy, the shit they do to your minds. I don’t know what I expected. I almost feel bad for you.”

Brainwashed?

Perhaps it’s the heated moment. Perhaps it’s just because you want this incredibly hostile person to leave you alone. Perhaps it’s because you just want to have the final word, and prove a point.

But your hands almost acts on their own when you spin around, grab Morgan’s arms, and pull them down towards you. They follow your instruct without complaint.

Without warning, you cup their face, and plant a firm kiss smack on their lips. Morgan’s eyes widen in surprise. Then excitement. You hear them purr deeply as they relax into your grip, reveling in the softness you've suddenly bestowed upon them.

When you let them go their hands are on your waist. They don’t stop chittering as you turn away from them again to face the threat.

“I don’t care what you think I am,” you say to the lizard. “But whatever it is, you still have no reason to treat us like this. Leave us alone.”

The lizard looks flabbergasted at the display. Then it turns to horror. Then disgust. “Unbelievable. Are you really-”

“Go. Away.”

If it’s you or Morgan that says it, you suddenly aren’t sure. Your voice came out like a harsh, guttural whisper, not unlike the way Morgan’s does when they’re angry. Perhaps you both just spoke at once. But the lizard averts his eyes, finally, acknowledging this is not the space to start this fight. He skulks off, leaving you and Morgan in full view of the entire tavern.

You glance around, only now noting the wary eyes of the common-folk. Their stares carry a mixture of fear, repulsion and, worst of all, pity. And it strikes you what has just transpired. That display might have caused more harm than good with this particular crowd.

Crap. You’ll need to leave again, won’t you?

You regretfully look up at Morgan, who's simply looking to you. Pleasantly calm, and dutifully awaiting your next move.

“Yeah, yeah,” you sigh, and wave the entire tavern off. “We’re going. Have a good evening. Sorry for the disturbance,” you spit the last part, grabbing Morgan’s wrist to drag them outside.

“A kiss?”

Morgan startles you out of your skin with the words, their voice suddenly appearing from the dark. Seems they’ve returned from collecting firewood.

Took them long enough.

The small make-shift camp under the stars offers only a bitter respite from what tonight could have been. Morgan had offered to go collect some fuel, as they can see better out here now that it’s dark. You hadn’t planned to stay the night in the woods again, after all.

“What about it?” you reply, not bothering to hide your sulking.

You’re seated close to the humble fire to keep the night chill at bay. Morgan enters the light shortly after, eyes reflecting it. They set down the branches, casually throwing in a few extra sticks to feed the flame, and seat themself next to you.

Morgan playfully pokes at your shoulder. “Sentry, if I’d known starting fights would get you-”

“Please, don’t even finish that sentence,” you complain. “I didn’t want to fight that guy. I just didn’t like what he said.”

Morgan hums. “You wanted him to not think I’ve control of your mind?”

“Something like that,” you grimace.

“Well,” they lean on you heavily, teasing. They speak into your face with a drawling whisper. “What’s there to suggest that I don’t?”

You snort, and shrug them off. “Bond thing, sure. I can’t go anywhere without you. But I’m pretty sure my head’s still mine.”

“Well, yes. And no. And not quite,” Morgan smiles. “It’s mine.”

“It wasn’t just that,” you continue quickly, before that train of thought develops. “The whole snatcher thing he said. It’s just -”

“Judging life and death?” Morgan echoes you, staring into the open flame. “Sentry, at this point it shouldn’t surprise you. That’s how it works. Their judgment will always favor my death.”

They speak casually, like telling you it’s going to rain. Nothing but a minor nuisance. It brings a bad taste to your mouth just how used to this they seem.

“I know,” you give after a beat, shifting uncomfortably. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it. And I really, really don’t.”

Morgan eyes you with a wry smile. “Don’t worry, they’ll be sure to remember that. Well, also after your amazing outburst. Have I ever mentioned I adore your theatrics?”

You frown, ignoring the last statement. “What do you mean, also?”

Morgan leans on their arms, calmly moving leaf litter out of the way of the fire before it catches. “I figured you defending my honor - while efficient, and I am eternally grateful - wouldn’t get the point across fully,” they say offhandedly.

You quickly turn to stare at the side of their face. They want you to ask, and you almost don't want to know. “Morgan. What did you do?”

Morgan turns slowly, and smiles at you, clicking their fangs together. “Well, their ale supply might make the patrons feel bad for a while. Maybe a little cramping? Maybe a little .. un-moving? Is that a word?”

Blood drains from your face.

“If I'm being honest, I have no clue what consuming my venom does to a person,” they ponder. “Actually, we should stick around. I want to see-”

“You went back to-!” You throw your arms out in frustration. “This is why we can never go anywhere!”

“On the contrary,” Morgan laughs. They lean over and curl their fingers around your wrists affectionately. They gently press their forehead against yours. “This is why we can go anywhere.”

[ednven]

ooc: i purchased an absurd amount of spider man stickers for no reason other than “i like spiderman and stickers”. i love being an adult

[lethalitisms]

[[ these kinds of venom transformations. need more of it . desperately ]]

[zoeloveconvers99]

For a school project,i rebooted the comic Venom setting it into a dark fantasy world. Eddie is a cursed knight and he's in a journey to hunt demons along with Peter who is a sorcerer. The project consisted into a brief character design and two illustration which i decided to make an original and one based on the comic cover “separation anxiety”.