shatter on impact

Blazing Jack-O’-Lantern

A magic item for Dungeons & Dragons fifth edition.

Originally posted by gameraboy

wondrous item, uncommon
This carved pumpkin casts bright light in a 5-foot radius and dim light for an additional 5 feet. After 10 days, the pumpkin withers and its light is extinguished. If a creature is killed in the bright light when fewer than 10 days remain, the blazing jack-o’-lantern burns for 1 day longer.
While it burns, you can use your action to throw the blazing jack-o’-lantern up to 20 feet, shattering it on impact. Make a ranged attack against a creature or object, treating the blazing jack-o’-lantern as an improvised weapon. On a hit, the target takes 2d6 fire damage.
A warlock or necromancer may create a blazing jack-o’-lantern by performing a special 1-hour ritual. The ritual uses a pumpkin, 25 gp worth of ruby dust, and requires the caster to expend a spell slot of 1st level or higher.

2

“As he knelt patiently on the rooftops, Cyrus notched his glass-head arrow, waiting for his target to appear in his line of sight. He had received all of the information he needed for his Queen. Now, the only thing left to do, was kill the loose tie.

Inhale. Exhale.

With one swift movements,  Cyrus’s arrow had embedded itself into the mans neck. It shattered upon impact. Sending shards of glass in every direction. Cyrus grinned as he hid again behind a chimney for cover. The sound of guards scrambling for their fallen Lord and orders being yelled were the only things audible on top of the distant tavern bustling in the city below.

Cyrus slipped back into the shadows, and made his way back toward Evermeet. To Felharidul, in the castle of glass, where he would report his findings to Queen Maehdari.’’

Commission done! Cyrus Venlael, a high elf ranger trained in bow, blade, and espionage & his young dire wolf companion: Storm. Characters and lore belong to Diamond a.k.a Diamselves ;)

Expect Rodents- 1

YES YES THIS IS THE HAMSTER FIC EVERYONE HAS BEEN HEARING ABOUT
(A/N: this is the first chapter of a leggy fic that the members of Broadgay Hell convinced me to write

creds:
@tryingandfailing, @burrn, (sorry maddie lmao), @tinyplaidninjas @grayscaleeternity @thenameisnym @nefarism anyone else who wrote stuff but didn’t get tagged I’ll add you)

tags: @flannery5sos

——————–

Chapter 1:

Margarita Schuyler had already had a long day before all of the rodents.

Not only had a pile of pottery dislodged itself from a tray fresh out of the kiln, shattering on impact, but she had also returned to the break room to find that someone had once again stolen her lunch. Eliza had stopped by earlier, she mused. It might have been her again. She didn’t even work at the Pottery Barn, she just occasionally snuck in if she was hungry.

She had also, while driving home, received a rather cryptic text from her flat mate, Gilbert.

“Expect rodents.”

Whatever that was supposed to mean. She scowled down at her phone, turning it off before walking up the steps of the apartment complex. Maybe she would get some sympathy from Gilbert.

As Peggy entered the room, she couldn’t help but notice the awful stench. What had Lafayette cooked this time?

She stood in the entrance hallway as her roommate ran up to her, abruptly stopping and awkwardly blocking the kitchen doorway. His hair was pulled up into a characteristic bun atop his head and he was noticeable disheveled.

“Hello Peggy!” he said, shifting his form to further block the kitchen. “How was your day?“

“Horrible, since you asked.” Peggy wrinkled her nose again, “What’s that smell?”

“Smell? What smell?” Gilbert responded, once again repositioning himself to better block the door.

Alright, Peggy thought. He wasn’t going to answer. Whatever he had done couldn’t have been that bad. Pushing past Laf, she looked around cautiously.

“Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Marquis de Lafayette, why the everloving fuck is my kitchen filled with hamsters?”

“What hamsters? I see no hamsters.”

“Gilbert, I’m going to ask you one more time. Why. The fuck. Are there hamsters in my kitchen.”

“They’re actually gerbils.” He replied nonchalantly shrugging.

“That doesn’t answer my god damned question.”

The kitchen was certainly a sight to behold. If you looked a bit closer, you could make out the stove and refrigerator, but it was difficult given that Lafayette had somehow managed to fit dozens of gerbils into the room. Peggy gasped.

“Explain.”

“Well, you see,” Laf turned to face the kitchen, guiltily tugging at his sleeves. “I had all these hamster balls and I was like ‘hey, what am I gonna do with all these hamster balls?’ and so I filled them with gerbils,” he explained gesturing to the gerbils.

“Uh huh.”

“In my defense, I meant to only order one, but they sent 72, so I had to order 72 gerbils to fill them all. You know?” Laf explained, rather poorly, but still explained.

“Why did want a hamster ball anyway? And why did you put gerbils in them instead of hamsters?”

“That I’m not sure of,”

Lafayette sheepishly sighed and walked over to her. She sniffed and backed away quickly.

“You smell disgusting!” Peggy shot as she recoiled.

“It’s the gerbils.”

“They too, smell disgusting.”

It was then that the ridicule of the situation finally set in. There was 72 gerbils, each contained in their own gerbil balls. In her kitchen. It was like something out of a children’s book. In the light of her terribly shitty day, she couldn’t help but laugh. Her laughter startled Gilbert, who jumped at the loud sound.

She sat down cross legged, still giggling, and buried her head in her hands.
Something knocked against her leg,and she looked down. Sat there in one of those stupid plastic balls, was a black gerbil. It sniffed at her, and she couldn’t help but smile.

“They’re quite cute, no?” Laf chuckled as he sat down next to Peggy. Peggy’s smile faded as she took her eyes away from the gerbil.

“Laf, you can’t realistically think that we’re going to keep 72 gerbils.” Lafayette’s face fell as he looked around the majorly disheveled kitchen before turning back to Peggy.

“W-Why not?”

“You’ve had them for what, six hours, and the kitchen already smells worse than anything you’ve cooked in like, the history of renting this apartment. I’m including the freaky fondue incident.”

Laf looked around, genuinely impressed, and smelled the air again. It took a lot to top that. Peggy sighed as it became clear that the man didn’t understand the situation at all.

“In all seriousness, what the hell are we going to do with 72 gerbils.”

“That I am unsure of.”

“Marquis de Lafayette, this is easily the most stupid thing you have done. Ever.”

The pair sat on the for for another few minutes, marvelling at the gerbils as they rolled around the kitchen, occasionally knocking into each other. Lafayette, exhausted after a day of gerbil wrangling, leaned back on his elbows and stared thoughtfully at the ceiling, while Peggy continued staring at the one black gerbil that had run into her earlier. The conversation had lulled, save for the never-ending scratches of the gerbils.

A loud buzz at the door startled the two. They both jumped up, but not before Alexander yelled through the intercom to buzz them up, and Laf complied immediately. The pair heard loud footsteps bounding up the stairs toward the door before Hamilton burst through the door triumphantly.

“Dammit Alex! Why’d you have to beat me?” Laurens said in between gulps of air.

“I don’t know maybe because I’m faster th-” Alex stopped mid sentence and looked in the kitchen, amazed at what lay before him. “Are those hamsters?”

“No, Alexander, they’re lizards.” Peggy snipped, standing to face him “Of course they’re hamsters!”

“Gerbils.” Laf clarified for the second time of the day.

“For fuck’s sake, same difference.”

“Gerbils have long fluffy tails,” Laf muttered under his breath.

“Woah, looks like Peg’s grown some gerballs since we last saw her.” John added, snickering. Alex turns and gave his boyfriend a punch on the shoulder before doubling over in laughter alongside him.

The punch landed was harder than Alexander had intended, knocking John into a cabinet where an open packet of cinnamon fell on his head.

“Oh no, sweet cinnamon daddy John!” Alex choked out through his laughs. The cinnamon was definitely going to be a pain to wash out of his hair.

“As much as I appreciate the puns, I have to ask. What are you guys doing here?”

“This one,” John starts, before pulling his boyfriend into a side hug, “decided to leave his glasses at a restaurant on this side of town, so on our way back from picking the up we thought we would pop in.“

Alex giggles as he tries to squirm out of John’s grasp before adding “We didn’t know we’d find you balls deep with some gerbils.”

It was Lafayette’s turn to blush as Peggy smothered her laughter. A few gerbils fell off of a counter, landing on the floor with a desolate clunk.

Peggy sighed again as she once again looked around her apartment. Looks like her already long day was going to be even longer.

Originally posted by isaaclahy

Requested by  chunk-no-cyndal-chunk <3
Prompt:  Teen Wolf: Can you do one with IsaacXReader and the reader is dying, so Isaac tries to take away their pain. Kind of like the ScottXAllison scene in 3b

MASTERLIST. KO-FI.

A frantic scream of your name echoed in the eerily quiet area as you felt the world slip under your feat. A striking pain pierced your stomach and with tears stringing in your eyes you watched as your friends’ faces twisted in fear. Your body was struck to the ground and before the bone shattering impact you gasped – you had fallen into someone’s arms. The pain spread like venom and your vision got darker, calls and shouts mixing into an unclear buzzing. Your body was set ablaze as slowly your eyes connected with magnificent blue ones that stared at you in desperation.

“…l…o….—“ You saw Isaacs mouth move but you didn’t understand what he was saying. Your bones rattled burning from the inside, but your skin was cold as snow. Ideas, dreams, anything you had prior to this mission were all wiped up and replaced by the only real thing you felt and could focus on – love. Love for the man whose eyes you were staring so deeply into for your very last moments. A pained, small smile brimmed your dry lips as you wanted to reach your hand to touch his face but couldn’t pry it away from the wound. His face blurred and then a second later appeared crisp and sharp. You noted the hot strings of tears rolling down his cheek, his lips moving in a frantic manner but you still couldn’t understand. The pain gradually grew duller and only then did you notice his fierce hold on your wrist. A bright grin bloomed on your face.

“I-Isaac…” You managed to wheeze out, making him squeeze a twisted smile of his own, “I-I—“

“No, no no, don’t speak, we’re going to get you to a hospital, please, (Name), don’t—don’t close your eyes, please, I love you.”

I love you too.

But you couldn’t make the words form before all the lights went out.

Requests are opened!

Everlasting Party - Mystic Messenger Time Loop AU (pt 7)

<- Previous Chapter | Chapter Index | Next Chapter ->

Summary: You’re caught in a time loop during the 11 days leading up to the RFA’s party unless you can do… what, exactly? Did someone say angst??

10+ No spoilers ^^


Bzzt bzzt.

You throw your phone at the wall and hear the glass shatter upon impact. The fabric is damp against your cheek as you bury your face in your pillow.

***

Bzzt bzzt.

You refuse to answer Unknown’s messages and drop your phone out the window. It lands with a satisfying smash as it hits the pavement.

***

Bzzt bzzt.

You try calling Zen even though you’ve never met. You only get his voicemail.

You feel nothing.

Keep reading

I’ll start piecing together the cracks in my heart with super glue and duct tape because my mother never told me that you can choose whether your heart is made of glass or rubber. You can bounce back up or shatter on impact. I’m sure there’s a way to change, but I know I’ll never learn.

Good for nothing whore!

The crash of glass shattering upon impact would leave the room deathly quiet. All to be heard is the crumbling glass falling out of place mixed with the heavy, ragged panted breaths. And then the muffled, forlorn weeps would come into play.

Good for nothing

Susan’s fingers curled and combed through her short hair, gripping at the tangled platinum locks in an attempt to brace herself, her weeping intensifying into heart racking, rib rattling sobs. It was painful.

Whore.

Good for nothing whore.

Her mind tormented herself with this recurring thought. It was choking her… And what upset her most was how deeply, at long last, it was effecting her. All because she invited a man into her life, trusting him to respect her as she was willing and beginning to respect him– All in vain.

Whore.

Such is the territory of love.

whore.

To feel the stinging betrayal of those you trust.

With a sob still bubbling in her throat, Susan lowers down into the chair set before the vanity, her left hand reaching to coax and favor her right, gently swiping the broken glass from her bleeding, torn knuckles.

Patch Up

@voidedfate

Crash!

The tea cup fell to the floor and shattered upon impact, especially after Lucidia had dropped it. Holding her hand tightly, she winced with the burn over the back of it, having been making some tea for herself. Only to forget that, with this magic upon her, she could feel heat far more than she ever could. With some of the hot tea splashing and getting onto her hand, her grip slipped, and now, a broken tea cup and hot tea pooled on the floor.

Oh dear, she had to clean it up. Wait, no magic..

But she didn’t dare to move from her spot in the kitchen, because, not only did she burn her hand, but she was also bare-footed and some pieces of the cup did cut them up a bit. She really didn’t know how to be cautious as a human.

3

“We’re not so different, you and I,” you say.

Loki cocks his head to the side, eyeing you. “How so?” he inquires, curiously raising his eyebrow.

You slam your hand down on the table. A sudden wave of coldness veils your fingers before leaving your skin in an icy trail across the table, all the way up to the glasses you and Loki are drinking from.

The glasses, filled with warm, tasty alcohol, turn to ice in an instant, shattering on the forceful impact of sudden coldness.

Loki smirks. He knows now that he found himself the right girl.

Dust and explosives

A bullet tipped with Fire Dust will first cause a bullet-wound in whatever it strikes, before the Dust inside is ignited by the impact, creating an explosion of fire that causes further harm and also sets its target ablaze.

However, a bullet filled with Fire Dust can be designed to act more like a grenade or rocket. The shells of these projectiles are designed to shatter as the impact ignites the Dust within. The target will be exposed to intense heat as well as a concussive blast-wave, but the majority of the damage is actually inflicted by the flying shrapnel; the broken fragments of the shell which are being propelled by the blast-wave.

But it’s not just Fire Dust that can achieve this effect! Upon ignition, Air, Water, and Gravity Dust all create expanding manifestations of mass or force which will cause a fragmentation shell to explode into shrapnel. (Earth and Ice may be counterproductive if they only end up trapping the shrapnel.)

This means that Dust makes it possible to create explosives which have a drastically lower chance of starting fires in the wilderness or urban environments. As long as they don’t set off any other stores of Dust.


back to my Dust index

anonymous asked:

But a Pink who's finally​ become an expert fighter, and sings O Death, as she goes to fight or execute someone for White. That sythe man...Just give her a hood/cloak with dark pinks and reds, and battle armor that's skin tight but utterly terrifying. The Reaper Diamond low caste gems call her (even though we all know White deserves the title more lol)

Okay. I see your point, but please imagine…
White Diamond. You’ve only heard stories about her, but she is enormous, she eclipses the sun and its light halos her. She could shatter you with a word, you both know it. Her cloak blots out the stars, she wears her gemstone like a crown. Her presence is indescribable, cosmic, unutterably ancient. She walks on air and all living things bow to her, presenting their heads to be crushed. She summons her mace, the huge spiky ball raising up, and the impact shatters the earth.
Blue Diamond. It comes without warning. Like a glacier, she is slow and untouchable and gravid and carves the world apart under her force. Like water, she is as swift to change as water splattering from broken glass. You've shadow. She will make you beg for death before she grants it.
Yellow Diamond. There are rules, and breaking them is unquestionable. Some of them are unwritten, laws of usefulness and practicality. She kills you slowly. You begin to realise that you have become outdated, and she cuts into flesh like a surgeon, replacing, improving. Her anger is incandescent. She decides quickly and without hesitation. Your corpse even then must be useful. She will torture you after death, experimenting on the fragments of consciousness that remain.

Anon. They’re all fucking terrifying. Pink’s tendency to play with victims like a cat with stupid doomed mice is scary enough. Don’t make it worse.

So I’ve been wanting one of my first major headcanons here to be on Zaeed’s cybernetics and general medical condition, specifically as it relates to having been shot point-blank in the head and survived. Now, I’m charitably assuming that his execution was done with a pistol, because, with the weapons technology native to mass effect, anything else at that range with no armor or kinetic shielding would have blown his head apart like a watermelon, and personally I still think it was a near thing. 

To quote directly from the wiki: “A mass accelerator propels a solid metal slug using precisely-controlled electromagnetic attraction and repulsion. The slug is designed to squash or shatter on impact, increasing the energy it transfers to the target. If this were not the case, it would simply punch a hole right through, doing minimal damage.”

To put it gently, after Vido was done with him, Zaeed’s head was a fucking mess. They left him where he was instead of checking a pulse because there was no logical way he should have been able to survive - the fact that he managed to drag himself far enough to get help is nothing short of mind-boggling, but not totally unheard of in the case of instances of extreme brain damage, which he most certainly had. He looks relatively put-together today, but before he went in for the first volley of reparative surgeries, half of his face was outright missing, and had to be reconstructed roughly from the appearance of the other half. If I ever drabble it or write a flashback into a post, the phrase “I don’t know where to put the medigel, man, there’s just nothing left” would not be out of place. 

As far as what was done to fix him, and what lingering side-effects he has to this day, his eye is the obvious starting point. It’s synthetically-grown tissue - technically organic, as opposed to, say, The Illusive Man’s cybernetic variety, and wired where the optic nerve would normally be  with a series of implants that simulate the act of sight. He states in the Citadel DLC that he lacks depth perception, and yet he can still shoot (with an Incisor sniper rifle, no less), so I’m inclined to think the implants combine with experience and muscle memory to provide him a firing solution, but that neither can provide actual depth of field. This deficiency may be a result of the brain damage previously alluded to, if 22nd century medicine couldn’t find a work-around. 

But other than his eye, there is a lot more damage still lingering under the surface. His olfactory nerves were completely destroyed, and his sense of smell is also simulated via implant. More than half of his teeth are fake, as well as much of his lower mandible. His voice was deep before, but it didn’t become as outright gravelly as the one we hear in-game until heat-scarring to his trachea and esophagus took root. And then there’s the damage to his brain: he lost a significant percentage of actual brain mass during the shooting, which is something that he wouldn’t have survived without significant physical and mental impairment in any previous century, and during his convalescence he was frequently prone to seizures and hallucinations, suffered serious balance issues, and most importantly temporarily lost his grip on his long-term memory.

He now has an implant not dissimilar to a greybox (which were originally designed, before being used in espionage, to combat the symptoms of Alzheimer’s) that catalogs and helps him recall his memories through the use of synesthetic mnemonics. This is part of the reasoning behind both his frequent reminiscing and his obsession with the past - he can not only recall it perfectly at a moment’s notice as a result of his implants, but he can remember what it was like to not be able to remember, and clings to his past savagely as a result, lest it be stripped from him again. Unfortunately, this only dug his need for revenge in deeper - he isn’t kidding when he says that he remembers what Vido did to him every time he hears a gunshot, he literally cannot help it. 

Flashbacks are common, and he suffers from frequent migraines, but a dulled sense of any other type of pain or physical sensation, and while he was already a borderline sociopath before he was shot, his ability to connect emotion to circumstance and empathize with others was further impaired by the damage. His most capable emotions are the “lower” variety - anger, paranoia, passion - while “higher” and more abstract feelings like compassion, loss, and regret tend to escape him, leaving him “sitting in neutral” most of the time, emotionally speaking. He can be made to care, but it’s generally in a pragmatic way, and on a very narrow and personal scale. 

In Loving Memory- Chapter 1 (Septiplier)

Summary: Sometimes, you lose the battles you fight.  Jack had always been an amazing, happy person. He was always there for everybody, the sunshine that lit up everyone’s life. He brought a smile to everybody’s faces.

What if Jack was gone?


Chapter one- (x) (More chapters coming soon!) 

Keep reading

Midnight Snack

Anonymous asked: could you do #41:“You found me crying on the kitchen floor in the middle of the night surrounded by a shattered jelly jar.” with Steve please

Here’s your fic, lovely! I do not own Steve Rogers. He belongs to Marvel. 

Warnings: fluff, I think that’s it.

Pairings: Steve Rogers x reader

Originally posted by rogers-room

#41: “You found me crying on the kitchen floor in the middle of the night surrounded by a shattered jelly jar.”

               "No!“ you whispered harshly as your knocked the jelly from the counter with your elbow. The jar went crashing to the floor, shattering on impact. Your eyes immediately watered and you sank down to the floor and sobbed. You tried to muffle your cries with your knees so you didn’t wake your boyfriend. Too late. "Y/N?” You looked up and saw Steve standing in the kitchen doorway, shield in hand. Even through the tears, you could tell he was worried about you.

Keep reading

Originally posted by wissywigg

The urge to scream was ever so strong in Kylo Ren. His face was on fire, now marred by his downfall. He couldn’t believe that someone so inexperienced– much less a girl– was able to take him down, reduce him to nothing. A low growl slipped past his chapped lips as he gritted his teeth. If he had lost control of his bodily functions, his pearly whites would shatter at the hard impact. His dark irises shifted towards the young woman who attempted to clean the blood from the burned skin, her eyes refusing to meet his gaze as he curled his gloved fingers around the arm rest of the chair he leaned back into.

“Enough.” He hissed out, slapping her hand away as he brushed his tongue over his lips, wetting the dry surface as he closed his eyes, trying to hold back the anger he felt deep inside of him. “Leave me.” He instructed, his voice wavering ever so slightly, sending her a mixed message. He wanted someone with him, but at the same time, he wanted no one around him. He was disfigured. Broken. The sound of fabric shifting caught his attention, making his head turn towards the woman who approached the door. His throat clenched, lips trembling before he spoke. 

“… stay.”