Art Requests Open! Art requests can be things I have drawn before (or from the same show/universe), things from my stories, and ocs of mine. Up to two characters per request. I really enjoy doing them. I write on AO3 with the user name HermesSerpent and made this tumblr to post art from my stories if I get inspired. Im trying to increase the number of stories with strong friendships and brotherhood! Please feel free to talk to me any time about my stories or anything else. [Leader of the Serpentine Empire (SE) ]
Hello! I am Hermes Serpent, leader of the Serpentine Empire. On this blog, I doodle and post about my stories on AO3. My name over there is HermesSerpent. If you want to ask about any part of those stories, feel free. I enjoy writing and love talking about current and past stories!
I'm also pretty open to non-story-related asks.
I really like to talk and make new friends and am a pretty open book!!
How I tag my personal posts:
text posts by me are #hermes speaks
art is #hermes art
asks are #ask hermes
I run a YouTube channel: Hermes Serpent. Which has some animations and drawing
Heres a link to a doc with fanart links. I love when people draw things from my stories and want to show my appreciation. Please please dont be afraid to tag meeee!! Fanart for Hermes Serpent
Art requests are open for things I have drawn before (or from the same show/universe), things from my stories, and ocs of mine. Up to two characters per request. No nsfw, no shipping. I’m also down to discuss art trades!! Just dm me!!
Chapters: 2/?
Fandom: X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men Evolution (Cartoon)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Victor Creed & Remy LeBeau
Characters: Victor Creed, Remy LeBeau
Summary:
Nuclear Bombs wiped out a good chunk of life on Earths surface about 2 years ago and took away Gambits family with it. Hes been surviving the wastes alone, when suddenly he one day arrives in a new world where nothing has ended yet.
Gambit is looking to enjoy the simple pleasures of life in Bayville like clean food and air, and along the way gains the curiosity of Sabretooth
Hurt dialogue prompts number four (4), Robbie Rotten and Sportacus
Robbie screeches as his machine topples on him and pins him to the ground. Today is just not his day. At all.
First, he woke up and found out that he had no more coffee. Or creme. Then he found a small stain on his favorite vest. He had decided that villainy wasn't in the cards and went topside to dismantle the machine he had set up the night before. Leaving it up could have led to its discovery and the subsequent ruin of the surprise. So he had tried to remove it.
And now he is pinned under it and wishes more than anything he had just stayed at home in his chair today. He closes his eyes and smudges his makeup in the dirt. He could use magic to remove himself from under the machine. But hes tired and hurting. He simply feels done.
The sound of feet slamming against the asphalt makes him whine. Really??! As if the elf saving him from trees wasn't enough. Now the man has to save him from his machine that he never even got to test.
“Robbie! Are you okay?”
“Just peachy.”
Robbie mumbles into the dirt, wishing for all the world it was his pillow. He groans as the metal is lifted from his legs and he is dragged out. He sits up and dusts himself off.
“Well, that's enough excitement for today. I need cake and ice cream.”
Sportacus puts a caring hand on his shoulder.
“Show me where it hurts.”
The request is genuine, and Robbie sighs. He leans on the hero, rubbing his legs with a sharp frown.
“Everywhere… but mostly here.”
He rubs his legs again. No blood, just bruises. Which sucks. He closes his eyes as he feels Sportacus poke and test.
“No broken bones. Are… are your wings okay?”
The last bit is whispered to him. Robbie rolls his shoulders and shoots Sportacus a look.
“It's a little rude to ask that about a fae that's not family.”
Sportacus flushes bright red. Robbie takes mercy on the elf.
“But we are close enough that I find no offence.”
Robbie says as he slumps into Sportacus. The hero makes a noise of relief.
“Good. But… are you sure? You're acting a little odd.”
“Today has been trash. I'd better sleep through the rest of it.”
Sportacus wraps an arm around him.
“I wish you wouldn't. We would miss you up here. Why don't you get some rest and come back up? I heard that the kids were planning on baking, and you're our resident expert. They would love for you to help.”
Robbie pauses and then nods.
“Yeah… okay. I’ll come up in an hour.”
“And I'll clean up this. Want it by the billboard?”
Sportacus gestures to the broken machine. Robbie nods.
Megamind is so funny to me. Several things are easily and beautifully established in the first few scenes of the movie.
Probably the worst crime that Megamind can actually be persecuted for is kidnapping. Some destruction of property. Otherwise, absolutely nobody is actually scared of him. There's no evacuation when he "takes over" (unlike later when Tighten takes over and there's a mass-exodus.)
He has some form of probably legitimate income since he purchases and ships all of his "evil lair" accessories from an outlet store, of all things, in Romania.
He has fans. (Fucking Bernard)
He probably hasn't killed anybody ever. (He told Roxanne to evacuate the Metro Man museum "we're having the walls and ceiling removed")
He purposely mispronounces things. (Says spider correctly initially, and then "corrects" himself.)
He unintentionally mispronounces things. ("Ollo?")
He doesn't know what windows are???? Has to be explained to him, despite his lair having them???? And the jail he was raised in has windows???? And the school he went to had windows????
His alligators (from the alligator pit) are very obviously well-loved and cared for. They have a disco ball, their own room, and piles of toys. They looked like they were having a great time, actually.
alright I've got to do some quick math to explain attitudes towards AI to my boss.
we're looking to create an AI policy, and when we were talking about this, my boss (older millennial) was genuinely shocked to hear that younger people do not (seem) to view AI positively (a la the recent commencement speakers being booed)
please rb for larger sample size!
Question 1/3
What is your age, and do you feel AI is a net positive or net negative in our lives today?
Hurt dialogue prompts number one (1), platonic yandere Sabretooth and Gambit
theres a lot of blood
Gambit grunts as he tries to get out from under the building he had been launched into by one of the X-teens. The red-headed psychic, he thinks. He freezes as he feels something shift inside of him. He looks down at his stomach. There. A bit of steel is buried deep in his gut.
Oh. That's a lot of blood. He snaps off the steel to be smaller using a small burst of sparks and then forces himself up. He hides the wound by buttoning up his coat. No reason to let the enemy know he's… dying. No, yeah, that was a slow bleed-out death blow. He can feel the rate of blood flow change with his heartbeat, and he knows a major artery was hit, along with his guts and a snatch of his diaphragm if the pain is to be believed.
He stumbles a bit, clawing his way clear of the building with haggard steps and mind-bending pain. Hes not going to make it. Not this time. He feels that with each increased difficulty of breathing.
But he sees Sabretooth in trouble. The man is getting pinned by the infamous Wolverine. He knows Sabretooth will deny ever needing help, but they helped each other around the base frequently. Sabretooth is normally the only one that he could rely on to train with him. And the only person who would ride with him to the grocery store.
He chucks his cards and blows the man off of Sabretooth. Good.
Gambit is then forced to block a blow from the blue imp. It makes him cough, and he tastes metal on his tongue. Shoot. He is running out of time. He should…
These green horns don't need to see him die. They might be teens, too, but they haven't been in this sort of business as long as he has. Death shouldn't be the forefront. Not yet.
He blows back the imp and then stumbles around a corner. Gambit coughs, blood sticky on his chest and making his shirt cling disgustingly.
Ow.
He finds a nook to tuck into and sits. He cannot feel his fingers. He gasps and tries to calm his heart beat. He is starting to feel cold.
Suddenly Sabretooth is infront of him.
“Why are you hiding? Youre not a coward.”
Sabretooth barks out and Gambit smiles a little. That is a kind statement. Or kind for Sabretooth at least.
“Looking to avoid… pain.”
Gambit says with a little gasp. Sabretooth narrows his eyes, snarling slightly.
"I won't let anyone hurt you."
Gambit snorts and then coughs, blood driping onto his chin.
“Im already hurt…”
He unbuttons his coat and shows the deadly injury. Sabretooth makes a choked noise and is immediately touching the wound. Gambit hisses.
“Hey, hey. Dont- dont do that. Im dying already, dont make it go faster.”
“Like hell Im letting you leave this easy!”
Sabretooth snarls, clacking his teeth. Gambit blinks. Oh. He had not realized Sabretooth cared that much.
“Shh. I just didnt want chilen seein’ this. With a wound like this, Remy not makin’ it home.”
“Who’s Remy? Is that you? Why are you giving me your name?! You're not dying. You're not allowed to die, Gambit!!”
Is that… concern? Remy smiles a little, blood loose and dripping. His coat starts to soak through
“It's alright, Sabes.”
“No. You're not going. You're mine, and I didnt say you could leave.”
Sabretooth snarls. So sweet and kind. Seems they were friends after all.
“Don't let the chilen see.”
Remy mumbles as his eyes slowly close. He is so cold. He feels arms lift him. He grunts a little, but the pain doesn't fully reach him. He finds it harder to breath but he wants his final wish clear.
“Don't want… kids to see. Not… not their fault…”
Sabretooth chuffs and says something, but Remy didnt hear what.
Darkness is bittersweet. He thought death might mean an end to suffering. And it might have been true…
Had he not found himself waking up.
Remy blinks at the brightness, wanting to flinch and curl up. Hell didn't need to be so bright when he first got there. Let there be an easing into eternal punishment.
At least that's what he thinks, everything fuzzing and swirling about. He feels an engine on his chest, rumbling away. It is soothing and makes him want to sleep, but he shouldn't. Not when hes just waking up. He tries to talk and finds something over his mouth. His hands don't respond to attempts to move them. They float disconnectedly from him and are pulled taut by mooring ropes. Did hell think he was a boat that might float away? Maybe he turned into a boat in death, and he got an engine??
Remy sharply thinks that such an idea is ridiculous, and he forces his eyes down. There. Sabretooth is resting on his chest, purring up a storm. A iv hooks them together, red liquid sliding from Sabretooth to Remy. Remy gargles out a noise, the oxygen mask obstructing him, and what must be drugs keeping his muscles loose. Sabretooth looks up with glowing eyes.
“I've traded a lot for you. You don't get to die.”
Remy makes a bubbly, confused noise and tries to move his hands again. Sabretooth interlocks his fingers with Remy's on Remy's right hand and Remy feels a bit less trapped.
“Mmh?”
He intones a question on his mind, but is unable to form on his lips. Sabretooth snarls.
“None of those idiots saw. But I'll get them for what they did to you. You died, Remy. And nobody gets to kill you.”
Remy makes a confused huff, eyes fluttering. He's not dead? Is he? Is he a little dead? Or like Lazarus, all the way dead and then yoinked back?
Sabretooth keeps talking.
“Had to drag you to an old… acquaintance and force him to make you better. And had to make sure he didn't sneak in adamantium like he did last time. Killed him after. And I'll kill the X men too.”
“N-non… didn't, didn't mean.”
Remy protests, cognitively aware enough to know that Sabretooth is hungry for blood but hungry for the wrong sort.
“They hurt you and you're mine.”
“Mm…”
Remy tightens his fingers around Sabretooth’s and moves his thumb as much as he can.
“Yours…”
He mumbles lazily and offhandedly, not sure why it makes Sabretooth's eye glow and the purrs roar louder.
“Guess I could be convinced to leave them be if you give me something in exchange.”
Oh! A way to remove the bloodlust? That would probably be good. Remy draws a circle with his thumb, feeling like a cloud is trying to take his mind.
“You gotta stay, Remy. Stay right here by my side, where you can't get hurt again. You're not going out and fighting anymore.”
No more fighting? A bit of rest time? Rest time is nice. He'd like to rest a bit. He's tired.
Remy gives a sluggish nod, eyes already fluttering.
“Good. I'll make sure no one ever hurts you again.”
Lowkey like the idea of Gambit's thieves guild being Catholic. It vibes with the Frenchness and the Louisiananess. But it's that kind of catholic thats twisted up in local tails and ghosts and supernatural where the devil stands at crossroads and clever men can trick him with a pinch of luck and a willing saint
I also really like the idea of them being like the medici family where they are huge patrons to the church, with a vain hope that will absolve them of the many sins created to attain the wealth (the medici fam squad were bankers when it was considered a sin to lend and have people pay back money with interest; course they called it something else to be fine with God because tricking god through a very specific use of specific words is a game they played)
Also like the medici family; they look after some of the churches money and grows it.
Only the priest in confessional knows all of what they've done.
Is prayer and repayment to the church enough? Idk but I think it's freaking funny to think of Gambit, nightcrawler and daredevil going to mass together and participating in lint and ash Wednesday.
Hello! I wanted to make a blog dedicated to platonic prompts. I kept looking for them and kept struggling to find any. So I thought hey, let's make a side blog for it. Romance is nice but I find it everywhere so heres a place to find platonic stuff!
I'll try to reblog when I find stuff here, but I'm also gonna have asks so maybe we can build something up for platonic writers out there!
Platonic can cover friends, family, yandere… anything but romance!
For asks!:
You can ask for types of dialogue, like angst or fluff. And ill make a short prompt list of dialogue that work under that type.
Or you can ask for scenario types.
You can also send in prompt ideas and ill turn it into a post
No romance prompt questions.
Rules!
Post your piece wherever you'd like
Alter any phrases, pronouns, words, et cetera.
Take just a few pieces from the prompt but not the whole thing, if desired
Monetize your work using my prompts
Tag me directly in your work or send it to me if you'd like! (I can't guarantee I'll find the time to get to it and/or read it if it's a fanfic for a fandom I'm unfamiliar with)
Gambit blinks at the locked door and pulls out his picking tools he never left his side. He slips them into the lock, wriggling and twisting the lock, waiting for the ringing click.
There.
He slips into the room, glancing around, nervous and careful. The floor screeches and groans and Gambit works hard to make as little noise as possible. He has no desire to be noticed by anyone. Dust dances about, with a faint tang of mold. Enough to whisper this room has been shut for a good long time. His eyes adjust quickly to the dimness of the room. His feet make the the floor groan like a old church organ under inexperienced fingers. Yet no sounds ring out in response and Gambit keeps going. He finds a odd looking statue. Some sort of wolf with ruby eyes that has flowers ringing its jaws. The old thief part of him weight the value as he trails a finger down its spine. Finely carved.
Lovely.
It is solid when he gently lifts it. Then it starts glowing. He is not able to drop it and he yells as the light grows brighter and brighter. Pain explodes from every cell in his body and he cannot help but wonder if he is finally joining his family. Its not a bad thought. Not completely welcome as he would have rathered to live a bit longer, but not a completly unwelcome one neither.
The sound of a car horn alerts him to things not all being well or normal.
Hia eyes flutter open in a hazy daze and he finds himself standing in a busy street where cars were actually running, unlike most if the rotted metal carcuses of cars he passed daily on scavenging trips. They blare at him angrly like a maddened animal as he stares back stupidly. He sees faces. Faces and teeth of humans, more than he had seen when he last saw a huge crowd, which had been a cannibal camp that snatched him up and though him easy food.
Glares and waggling tongues that accompany shrieks of anger have him bolting away, his heart jack rabbiting fitfully in his chest as he tries to escapes this strange hallucination. Or this trap sure to end with him torn to bits.
He claws up a wall and curls up on the edge while staring out at the place. This is not the rugged worn city that he had been scavenging through. No broken down cars, splatters of blood from brawls and no…
Gambit breathes deep and long, the air clear in a honey sweet way he never thought he would taste. No vague tang of the bombs, metallic and heavy in the air. He gasps in the air. He sucks it in, desperately wanting to know if it is real.
It tastes real. It tastes so so real. He mufffles a sob behind a dirt soaked hand. What is happening??! Tears burn at his eyes as he looks about taking in the blues of the sky, the clean buildings, and the sweet air. He is still filthy and broken. But he is not in that place anymore. A second chance? Maybe.
Maybe.
What should he do? He lays on his back, staring up with wonder at the beautiful sky. Warmth soaking into his bones, his breathe deep and full. He wants … clean grass and water. If this is real… if this is a real then those things should be found easily.
Sure grass existed out in the wastes had taken on a tough quality, stiff and prickly like used up velcro. He wants to find something softer. Richer in color. He tracks down a park and slips into it, taking care to avoid people. He sits down on the grass and finds a deep urge roll about in it. So he does with glee and soft noises of pleasure. He sits up and heads out, looking to leave the city and find a patch of woods and a stream or river or pond to scrub down in. The water would be cleaner than anything back home.
