#bless u ilusm

[unmeinoniwa]

LISTEN LIME I LOVE ALL OF UR OCS BUT CAN I JUST GIVE A SPECIAL SHOUT OUT TO CELINE AND THEO I LOVE THEM SM ✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖✖♥

Send "✖" if you think my oc is well written. || always accepting.

[vyl3tpwny]

ur music saved me more than a hundred times in my life maybe. everything u create is so refreshing yet familiar thx ilusm <3 tumblr questin is if u prefer cold or warm [in sense of weather]

blessed to hear this <3

i prefer cold.

[fyodior]

my beautiful girl, i hope you had the happiest of birthdays! 💫 you bless this planet ( ie me . . but also all of your favies + everyone that has the pleasure of knowing you >3< ) each and every day with your presence!! (〃ω〃)♡ i'm so lucky to call someone as kind and thoughtful and loving as you a friend 🥺🥺 i hope this new trip 'round the sun blesses you with all that is sweet and pretty in life to match your heart. ilusm forever and on! xx

COCO :((( BAABYYY IM GONNA CRY!!!!! i love u sososos much your words are so kind you are so kind i don’t even have the words to express how much you mean to me :(( THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!!🤍🤍🤍

[iuwon]

omgg goodluck sa studies mo, may you be blessed talaga. what's your course pala, love?? ingat alwayss okii, take breaks din if you're feeling stressed and make sure you don't skip meals too, kakayanin natin huhu 🥹

thank you asawa kooo you’re the best🫶 i’m taking up business atm! hindi pa ko sure if it’s the course i want but i’ll just see it through for the meantime😋 wbu love what’s your course?😚 we’re in this together huhu i’m always here for you if u need anything luv!! ilusm

[itadoreyu]

birthday girl ! ! 🥺 happie twinkling 21 my shining star . . . u are so full of love n light n i am truly so blessed to get to experience ur sunlight n affection 💝💞 how lucky am i to know someone as darling as u ! im so grateful for our friendship that has lasted what . . nearly 3 years now ?? 😭 happie happie birthday to u dearest jay ! ! ! i am instating 11.05 as international jay day — let the world celebrate ur birth ! ♡ ilusm n i hope u hv the best cake of ur life ( n the best birthday sex frm yuuji hehe :3 ! ! )

wahhhhh coco i adore you so much! 3 years of friendship with someone as lovely as you makes me so grateful to have you in my life 🥺 i love you so much and please keep being the wonderful person you are <3 i hope you’re having the most amazing day today my love! yuuji is peeking over my shoulder to see who has me smiling so hard and now i’m telling him all about my dearest friend coco 💞

[littleferal]

Sitting here thinking of Frankie spilled out across crisp white sheets like a sunset, all tanned skin and loose-limbed and completely relaxed. I just want to gather him up in my arms and kiss him for as long as he’ll let me.

oh my dear @softanon i looked at this ask so many times and im so in love with it 🥺 let the boys be soft, let them be loved and doted on as well!! 💛💛💛

1.6k of fluff below the cut, i hope it was worth the wait :")

-- -- -- -- -- -- --

You find Frankie sprawled out face-down across the bed, the clean and crisp bed sheets beneath him barely rumpled. It’s as if he simply lay down and fell straight asleep. He hasn’t even bothered to get dressed again properly after his shower, the black boxer shorts the only item of clothing on him, contrasting beautifully with his tanned skin and the white sheets. You find yourself feeling thankful there isn’t a clear view into your bedroom, because that would mean closing the curtains and you don’t want to - the late summer light is cast over Frankie in a hazed block, highlighting the broadness of his back. He faces away from it - face to the door - on his side of the bed, splayed limbs and his face squished against the pillow, your own pulled close enough he can no doubt smell it. (And that’s likely why).

As you lean against the doorframe watching you think that at least for now all you want to do is watch and bask in the peaceful ambience of the room. The dust motes in the evening light, the gentle hum of life somewhere outside. To let this moment be and take comfort in knowing that right now Frankie is here and he’s safe and he’s resting. You don’t want to disturb his rest - god knows he needs it - but seeing him like this, all loose-limbed and completed relaxed, you do want to be closer. You want to admire him, already mentally tracing lines down the softly defined muscles of his back, remembering the places where the few freckles from his afternoons in the sun are scattered across his shoulders. You want to gather him up in your arms, to kiss your way across the bared skin, shower him in affection and maybe - just maybe - that’d be a kind of rest too, to be wrapped up in your love.

In the end your own selfish desires win, drawing you over to the bed where you settle down next to him, at just the right distance that you think he might not have noticed the dip in the mattress. He does. Sensing you even when he’s mostly asleep Frankie makes a soft noise in the back of his throat before the hand nearest starts to search for you. Blindly patting and feeling his way across the bed, when Frankie finds your thigh his fingers slip up and over, gripping lightly into your soft skin so it dimples beneath his touch. He looks so peaceful you hardly dare to move in case it disturbs him again. But when he makes another noise and a gentle tug on your leg you go willingly. You settle yourself right alongside him then gently take his larger hand in your own, allowing him to sleepily shift and interlace his fingers alongside yours until he’s happy. Raising the paired hands to your lips you press soft kisses across his knuckles. He hums in content at the feeling, turning his face upward towards you though his eyes remain closed.

“Frankie?” He makes a quiet acknowledging noise. “You there?”

“Mmmmhm.” Comes the sound again, this time paired with a quick squeeze of your hand.

“You doing ok?”

He hums in response before, “tired.” Comes the reply.

“Yeah. You did a lot today didn’t you? You must have worked hard, I know it. Baby I’m proud of you.” At your words Frankie makes a small pained noise before pulling himself over, hiding his face fully against your leg, his arm over your lap and clinging to your other hip. “That kind of day?” He nods slowly against you, his nose dragging against your thigh with the movement. “Ok. I’m here.”

This you can do.

With one hand you cup the back of his skull, fingers threading through his still-damp curls and drawing mindless circles and patterns. It’s a gesture he’s done to you so many times that you know first hand the kind of comfort it brings, hoping it’ll do the same for him. Your other hand you allow to slide down onto his back, fingers spread to just feel him for a moment and feel his warmth. You study the contrasts of the two of you, how broad his back is under your hand, and how he appears even bigger when he sighs at the contact, pushing up into you ever so slightly before he finds himself too heavy and drops back down.

You lose yourself to it - the touch and how it soothes you both - and time drifts to feel molasses slow in the fading golden sunlight. Frankie’s breathing is a steady cadence, puffs of warm air against your leg, his back rising and falling under your hand as he breathes in and lets it out, becoming a comforting weight across you. You slowly admire him beneath you, allowing your fingers to trace up and down his muscles like you’d thought about, rubbing his back in a hope to soothe him before walking your fingers step by step from one freckle to the next. Frankie shivers at the tickle, grumbling slightly as he holds you tighter.

“Alright, alright,” You murmur. “didn’t mean you tickle you, softie.” He gives a huff of amusement at the endearment, and a small nuzzle against you in thanks for stopping as you run firm strokes over his back to ease the sensation.

Then your hands begin to wander on their own accord; finding what you know are his usual tight spots along his broad shoulders and at the base of his neck, digging your thumbs in and working to ease the tension. Frankie hums then lifts himself to shuffle even closer to you again. He gives a passing kiss to your stomach before resting his head on your other thigh and letting himself become heavy over you.

Once he’s settled you return to your work. You follow familiar tracks down his back, walking your thumbs down either side of his spine before repeating with long strokes and pressing down around and to his stomach. Over and over you go, firmly pressing into him until he stops shifting with the over-sensitivity of it. It’s hard to do some of it right with the angle, so you settle for the best you can and center in on what you know is usually tight. The worst is generally up his neck, the tension from holding his shoulders wrong causing permanent tightness there. You dig in, using your fingers to roll the muscles until they yield, mindful every time Frankie breathes hard against you. Until one time it catches and you stop, instead rubbing over the area to relieve the ache. You’re working up to finishing the short massage when Frankie notices and speaks up.

“Don’t stop.” It’s said so quietly you barely catch it, muffled as it is against your skin.

“What was that?” Maybe a lesser man would have changed his words, postured and put on a front. But Frankie - your kind and ever-open Frankie - only rolls his head to the side, cracks his eyes open to hold your gaze and repeats it.

“Please don’t stop querida.”

At his reassurance you shake your head gently in reply, then, “I won’t baby. ‘m right here, I got you.” His lips quirk up at the corners at your easy pet-name, enough to round his cheeks and soften his eyes as they drift back shut, the smile lingering a fraction longer before he pulls into you again.

When you return to it you work in earnest now but in broader pressures - pressing the heels of your hands into his back, pushing long strokes downwards and working the knots out. Frankie huffs at the ache and breathes out in measured breaths whenever you find something particularly tight that sends bright flashes of pain through his body. You’re mindful but know he needs it, evident in how the more you work the heavier he gets against you. Each passing of your hands makes the coil of his tension loosen more and more until he’s finally lying completely boneless against you.

“Alright,” You murmur, folding yourself down over him enough to press a kiss to his forehead. “Come on then love.” An eye cracks open at your words, a small groan of protest breaking the silence.

“Don’t stop…sleep.” Is all he mumbles in reply.

“I know Frankie. Sleep for both of us. That’s what I meant.”

It’s a bit of work to rearrange the pair of you, Frankie nothing but a mumbling weight, quietly protesting the whole shift. But as soon as you are both laying down facing each other he slots his leg between yours immediately, fitting his body alongside you like a paired puzzle piece. Nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck Frankie settles against you with a sigh. He’s all heavy limbs - an arm thrown over your waist and crooked up to reach for your shoulder, or maybe your head, but there’s no grip to his fingers, his leg trying to pull you even closer. It puts him back in reach for soft kisses, which you gently press against his forehead over and over, loving the reaction it gets from him - a soft huff as he pushes his face down each time, his beard rubbing at your skin but it’s worth it (like always). Your fingers thread again through his curls, dry enough now they’ve gone a bit wispy at the ends. You play with the individual strands, rolling them between your fingers until he shivers at the feeling against his scalp.

“Sleep.” And this time he truly sounds on the edge of it.

“Sleep.” You agree, snuggling in to enjoy his presence and the last of the day’s sun.

tell me your soft thoughts 🌙 + fluffy friday + my masterlist

[grimesucker]

@theimpalpable ;; 50URC3

 OH, HE’S LOOKING AT HIM, ALRIGHT. Calix’s tempted to mimic the other’s gesture, but instead he produces a close-slipped smile; eyes holding a type of unconscious WARMTH. What can he SAY? He’s just GLAD to see him.

"What, is that your way of saying that y'want a FRENCH KISS?"

A snort, along with a playful scrunch of nose.

"If so, y'should come CLOSER, then."

                                                                     “ ---what ?”

HE BLINKS, effectively STALLED--- well-aware is he that calix can RISE UP & MEET dox’s own brand of bullshit, but some of it still throws the mender for a loop---

his stilted inquiry comes not because he’d MISHEARD, but more in query of confirmation that calix hadn’t MISSPOKE---dox’s antics don’t usually make people want to KISS HIM, but . shit . to dox, calix had always been separate from the rest.

...so that’s when the FLUSH sets in ; a bloom of subtle PINK that spreads across his cheeks, makes his lips pinch up - HE DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO RESPOND. generally a BITING REMARK in retaliation would be his go-to, but... well, he can’t just say YEAH in this case, though the beckoning is tempting, HE’S GOTTA SAVE FACE SOMEHOW---

                                          “ ... how come I gotta do the work ?”

.

[nrth-wind-a]

Happy pride nari gives you THREE berries (for gay rights) — @arcane-nari

@arcane-nari

Skrael grins, accepting the berries with gratitude. "Thank you, Nari. Happy Pride."

"...though I still don't understand why the humans have a whole month devoted the sin of pride, but not to the other six?"

[jinlix]

Kelly hi how are we feeling about Hyunjin's hair??

0 days since I stopped crying about it, sweetie. Zero. Days.

[seokmatthewz]

wooyoung: *gets new hair*

wooyoung:

[steelycunt]

hiii ridi!!!! no point at all to this just had a thought n wanted to say ur too good for this world and i love u stupidly!! imagine this a postcard with a pretty landscape and “thinking of you even from thousands of miles away” written in a pretty swirly font <3 sending u a whole truckload of love from those thousands of miles too! hope u have the loveliest week jammed packed with laughter n bliss n relaxation n all things good etc etc!!! okay okay that’s all for now just wanted to pop in quickly love u love u MWAH!!! xoxoxo

LIV!!!!!!!!!! LIV HI HI HI omg. omg hiiii ilusm you are soooooo. ive had (am having) a pretty difficult miserable week so could not have recieved this at a better time i love you sooo much <33 and i love the postcard i'm sticking it on my wall RIGHT NOW bless you!! thinking wow what a pretty landscape what a pretty swirly font!!! as always you are sunlight incarnate thank you for stopping in over here !!! how lovely !!! sending you sooooo much love and light right back <333 MWAH!!

[solchimaera]

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

Ships needed - Accepting

💚 - friendship

//alwAYS BROS!!!

[viduamarchive]

your love is positively unparalleled. you have created natya from scratch, created an amalgam of some of her best appearances and produced a characterisation so in depth and so symbolic you honestly deserve a comic series. your plots are all so representative and true to natasha, every thread, every piece of writing brings out a quality many writers elect to ignore in favour of her outer onion layers. but we all know natasha is like an Onion and has many layers. thank you for this onion.

             TELL ME YOUR FAVORITE THING ABOUT MY PORTRAYAL.

[partyinthemysterymachine]

I'M CURIOUS AF WHO ARE THESE TWO MONSTERS NEAR POOR SCARED HARRY? 😳😳😳👀👀👀

SHAKES AND VIBRATES

oh!! oh you wish to know my monsters?? u wish to hear GOOMT's monsters?? WELL!!!! ha ha ha OOOHHH

OOH I'M GLAD YOU ASKED!!!

(no rly bless u, ilusm, thank u for asking and ur vested interest, i'm REALLY SUPER appreciative ❤️❤️❤️💖💖💖🥚🥚🥚🥚🥚)

and ofc, since u know i gotta, here is the obligatory link to my Harry/James glacial slowburn, Get Out Of My Town, and GOOMT’s corresponding blog for updates, aesthetics, art, and all that jazz!

NOW KEEP IN MIND: these are only descriptions of the monsters in the full picture i did here. there are others in the monster cast too, that are LOTS of barrels of fun, and VERY intricate and intriguing in their own way, just as the ones mentioned/following.

(the picture itself is a part of the GOOMT actor AU, where it’s all just a show, folks! (consider it to the likes of the Silent Hill blooper reel, which we were ROBBED OF in later games >:( 🔪 @ konami 5ever) and you can find its tag here.)

CONTENT WARNING: descriptions of child death, James Sunderland

JAMES SUNDERLAND 

James Sunderland is a stupid little idiot weasel and conduit of Silent Hill. he has so many problems and is not going to do anything about it because he’s a stupid and depressed little wanker who doesn’t have any rights, not that he ever did in his life. 

after the events of Silent Hill 2, James pitched himself into the lake but the town wasn’t gonna let him off easy. it had plans, and needs, for James. our boy here crawled right out of Toluca Lake after haphazardly (and illegally, but whatever; who’s gonna give him a ticket? .. yeah that’s what i thought) parking it in its depths and has remained in South Vale ever since. James sure darn well tried, but he cannot escape through death at his own hand, or otherwise. in fact, the monsters he (and we) have come to know and love have gradually become disinterested in him.

(as for Pyramid Head? huh! well, it’s weird; James hasn’t seen him around in quite a while.. hrm.. really gotta wonder what’s up with that.. ;3c )

what it means to be a conduit of Silent Hill, however, is a little complicated; but the baseline is that he’s Silent Hill’s little battery pack. it needs him and through fun time psychological (and physical, now and again.. but the monsters don’t wanna play anymore, for some reason..) torture, James does what he does best and wallows a sure hell of a lot, thus accumulating nutritious and scrum-diddily-umpious negative power for the town.

oh 👂 you ask, “and for what does it need it, and why James?” great question!

wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy?? ;) but you can read about it all riiight here, babey!!

ok ok jk jk (sorta lol) (bc i mean come on. ISN’T he a monster, tho......? ....hrrmmm hmm hmmmmm........ sources point to yes, if SH2 has anything to say about it, LOL)

let’s ACTUALLY start with my HONEST personal favorite:

THE MEMORY OF HARRY

(this monster was very aptly named by a good friend of mine - hi Gospel! - and so credit must be given where credit is due.)

ART BY capitán solsikke

(uncertain of where solsikke is keeping their public art contacts/social media now, so solsikke, if u happen to see this, pls drop ur deets so i can link back to u pls :< pls..)

FURTHER NOTE: to reduce the long post scrolling and bc tumblr’s image insertion format is horrid, i’m going to put additional art/links to the GOOMT blog posts for Memory of Harry, bc y’all REALLY gotta see the actual faithful renderings of him i also commissioned from capitán solsikke

the Memory of Harry first appeared at the end of GOOMT’s Chapter 27: Yeah, Me Neither. his description is as follows (and ADDITIONAL NOTE: Harry is, GOOMT-canonically, left-handed):

A lean man teetered on exhausted legs. Because his entry only allowed them to view him from the side, from that angle they saw he wore a brown leather jacket discolored by smoke stains and was torn at the shoulder. The jeans on his legs were tainted and ratty, and his shoes only held together by determination.

From what could be told of his profile, this man’s face had retained most of its features, despite the crusty, black skin covering every inch. His dark hair lay flat on his head, save for a wispy few strands that fanned loose over his brow. Misshapen scarring created a thick, blinding patch over his visible eye. And lastly, the reason his nonstop weeping was muffled was due to a mouth sewn shut so many times that it was replaced by nothing but a bulky, knotted mask.

But this visage was nothing compared to his cargo. In his hand he held a smaller one attached to a thin, tiny arm, of which was connected to the raw and burned corpse of a little girl. She was on her belly, her head hung like a sack of sand between her shoulders, obscuring her face, and her stringy, oily black hair dangling and swaying with every move the man made. On her body was a tattered blue dress, perhaps once long-sleeved as suggested by the remains of ripped fabric at her elbow, and black shoes over white socks patched by dried orange blood and char. Wherever she was forced to go, she left a wet streak of black and crimson in her wake.

James scrutinized this gruesome new monster hard while it shuffled directionless and wracked with demoralizing sobs. It didn’t seem to know they were there and moved at such a slow pace that James figured they were in no immediate danger. He looked at Harry for guidance.

Harry, however, was in no state to do anything but remember how to breathe. His face was contorted in grief and oddly, recognition. James eyed him, somewhat disturbed by it but moreso uncertain, then took his stare back to their visitor.

The victim of a fire unknown changed his direction, somehow having noticed they were there and faced them. Wherever it could be seen, his skin was indeed blackened, cracked, and flaking like bark, and revealed that both of his eyes were blindfolded by the scarring. Beneath the leather jacket, which sported a broken replica of their flashlights, was a sweater vest that bore a royal blue color somehow notable under the charcoaled damage. It was frayed at the hems and layered over a shirt that was once white. But now that he had confronted the resident and veteran full on, James could have never been prepared for what brought it all together:

The bereaved’s left hand which, until now, had been hidden on his other side, was not empty - and never could be. His arm hung lifeless and his fingers welded, forever clutching, a long, rusted, and bloody steel pipe.

James’s lips parted, and his heart dropped like lead straight through the floors.

Neither moved, and the man, at his snail’s pace, sought to meet them. The next garbled cry caused Harry to twist his bludgeon so hard in his white-knuckled fists that his arms briefly trembled. Each step drew the walking corpse a little bit closer, and still, they couldn’t find their feet. With the pieces having fallen together, the implications of what was before them pulled the ropes in James’s stomach tight enough to make him vaguely nauseous.

James heard himself utter a whisper of his companion’s name. His voice seemed to shake Harry out of his stupor, and in time to choke back sob of his own before it began.

He didn’t even feel his vocal cords nor his tongue move when he spoke again. “Is that..”

“It’s me,” Harry said thickly. “Yeah. That’s me.”

===

he was, considering his importance, intended to be used sparingly - and he is. this monster is (thus far, and understandably,) Harry’s least favorite monster, lmao. Harry would really rather this guy Didn’t, but hey - ain’t nobody here that’re gonna let HIM call the shots any time soon!! 

the Memory of Harry is an extremely foreboding warning and tale on two legs. he is also 100% capable of ruining Harry’s day in a pinch, just by existing. 

(Harry really doesn’t like to think about him.)

CRYING, BURNING WOMAN

(who is taking a moment out of her day to T-pose to get her point across; and of whom has not yet been properly rendered in art form BUT I’M WORKING ON FIXING THAT 👀 @ all local artists with commissions open)

this monster tends to travel in packs of two or more. she’s first seen alone, and is the debut monster in GOOMT’s story, in Chapter 5: Stop Stopping

From the fog emerged a staggering, loose-limbed creature that was closer than either of them had anticipated. It shuffled on buckled legs, its ropey arms swinging carelessly in the momentum. The head drooped on its neck, masking its face from everything but the asphalt, and they ought to be grateful for it. The entirety of this abomination was ravaged in sickening swirls of exposed muscle, black rot eating away at its flesh, and raw, peeling skin. Like most of the hell creatures in Silent Hill, it was an impossibility. The thing moved as though it was treading through tar, but these two were wise to the fact that that shouldn’t be undermined.

The stench of it reached them as soon as they saw it, triggering bile washing up Harry’s throat, and gritted disgust on James’s face. It smelled of charred meat forgotten in an industrial oven fueled by sulfur and was heavy with the unmistakable odor of wet, moldy clothes. Every breath it took sounded labored and painful, and vaguely feminine. In its wake were slicks of thick blood, and if they dared to be any more observant, flung drops of blood from its stiff fingertips as the arms swayed.

she’s seen again, in Chapter 10: Turn Around, Look At What You See

The smell reached them. It was the same they’d experienced before: burnt flesh and moldy clothes. Harry remembered what she looked like, how her arms swung and her spine could barely support her. Her flesh had been peeling, burnt to the bone in some places, and her head hung to conceal her shame. It sounded like there were more than one of these tortured women - perhaps two or three. 

and in Chapter 11: The Pocket Travel Guide To Silent Hill, James reflects upon them - and one other.

There were the crying, burning women, and the creature made of static and fumes. The former were forever smoldering, blighted by singed holes in their baked flesh, and dripped black, acidic ichor. Some were bald, their scalps incinerated, and others had long black hair that was both wet and decorated with kindling flames. When they staggered, their faces were obscured by the way their heads hung on broken necks, and when dead, Harry and James rolled them over to unearth the fact that their eyes were blinded by melted skin and their mouths silenced by a red square made of steel. How their screams were audible from behind the plates, they didn’t know. Their bodies reeked of gasoline and scorched wood. 

===

(sensing a pattern, here? >;) )

now in that, there’s mention of a “creature made of static and fumes”. she is not pictured, and has a different appearance - and she’s a radio mimic. the radio (huh.. radio..... what’s going on with that radio.....? is it broken...?? hrm. better take it anyway) mimic.

as you can imagine, she’s also one of Harry’s beloved favorites. ;3c

and finally, however quite (so far) unfairly depicted and appearing MUCH later into the story:

THE LOST BOY (1 of 2)

his (and his better(?) half’s) first appearance comes in Chapter 54: Touché

And before one could say “knife”, galloping, meaty claps on vinyl tile heralded the proper, and fashionably late, introduction of the quadrupedal couple. Upon emerging into the artificial headlights, however, they recoiled. At once, and reminiscent of their earlier behavior on the security monitor, Harry and James watched them volley apart. Furthermore, their emotions seemed to be unchanged from the scene with the girl in the corridor.

Demonstrating that behavior in person sowed the seeds of interest, for as intimate as they seemed to be, they also showed signs of having a mysterious, innate fear of being seen together. The predators chose their quarry and took sides on an archer’s bow. During their slow, deliberate advance, they verified the surmised size discrepancy as correct  - and the larger made James its target.

Its hunched skeleton made it hard to decipher its entire build, but anyone could see that it boasted the hallmarks of an athlete: lean, sturdy, balanced, and if it stood on its legs, would probably surpass the six foot mark. In contrast, its partner, who had business with Harry, posed an all around average height and body type. As far as fitness went, this was one that strongly hinted it preferred the bleachers, as there was barely any muscular definition on it at all.

Other than that, the pair’s bodily design was nothing special. Moist and raw burns covered their unpalatable topography from head to toe, mapping out ice cream swirl streets hued in apricot and ripe peach, and pronouncing the sewage brown lagoons dotting them like Dalmatians. Their figures were ugly to be sure, but they weren’t the focus - their faces were.

At one side of the mouth, a necrotic, flat, fabric string vertically secured the starting base of a pattern. It was a simple motif, too: laced shoes. Criss-crossing over the lips and tunneling north and south through septic punctures ringed by crystalized pus eyelets, the strings wove impenetrable diamonds all the way to the other side, triple-knotted in gunky yellow paste, and the uneven ends left dangling. Once upon a time, these mouths must’ve had something to say, or needed to say; but none were permitted to listen. They, like all other fiends, were victims of silence.

Harry and James didn’t much care for the trendy, stringent enforcement of ‘silence is the best policy.’ A while ago, Harry, at least, began to suspect that there was significance behind each individual, unique means; granted, the allegation seemed like no-brainer. All aside, the two here helped build his case.

He’d chew on it later.

Two slanted holes pretended to be a nose, and above them sat two anomalous eyes.  One visualized the world through an eternal squint, the eye semi-obscured by a grafted skin bandage. The second, in juxtaposition, told further tale of torture. Stapled to brow and cheek were the upper and lower lids, stretched beyond capacity to plate the living, twitching centerpiece netted in spider silk threads. Firetruck red painted the inverted inner lids, and by merciful grace of the monster’s exotic biology, the socket and orbit glittered from moisture that preserved its functionality.

===

RUBS NASTY LITTLE FLY HANDS

ooh, this pair - OOOH, this P A I R. i LOVE this double trouble. i was VERY excited to introduce them, because they are A TREAT. these boys are a first for GOOMT’s story for being boys, so gosh..... gosh, ho hum hrmmm hmm mmmmrmmm hrrrrmmmm, wonder what that could mean??? 

>;3c

but yeah, as you can see - their details are quite immense and uhhh.. all we got up there right now is zombie Orange Julius lookin’ out for his next big orange to squeeze. soon, buddy.... don’t worry, my guy; soon.....™️

aaaaand THAT is THAT ON THAT!!! 

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR INTEREST IN MY MONSTERS OF GOOMT, AND GOOMT ITSELF 😭😭😭😭 WORDS CANNOT DESCRIBE MY THANKS AND JOY (despite the 232,398 of them in GOOMT so far but eh, who’s counting)

forreal tho THANK YOU so much for your ask and your curiosity, it means the absolute world to me and i’m shoving it into my mouth and storing it in my cheeks. GOOMT is the love of my entire life and also my bane of existence and i LOVE talking, and sharing aspects of GOOMT* for all that will listen :3c

*except for lore, future planning and scenes, and things not otherwise already published because i am a VERY superstitious writer and VERY cautious of what, and to whom, i share. i won’t answer questions or talk about GOOMT’s lore and planning to anyone - not even Ren, my best friend and patient editor since ch10, who doesn’t even go here. so rest assured, it’s not (the royal) you; it’s me. 😔

AND NOW since you’ve either made it or scrolled to the end, the detailed depictions of the Memory of Harry by capitán solsikke under the cut, and their original posts from GOOMT’s blog:

POST FOUND HERE

POST FOUND HERE

AND BONUS ROUND: ACTOR AU

POST FOUND HERE

[barnaes-arch]

bro............. i love u bro. the way i just, BY ASSOCIATION, really didn't like whatever the fandom came up with for james?? like i was never into marvel in any aspect but just from being around people, i never liked his character, never liked what i saw discussed about him............ until you. until you took him and made him realistic and genuine and you put the heart and soul back into him. i will probably never watch a marble movie BUT i'm kinda glad, because then i get to preserve your beautiful view of this intricate character in my mind, and he never gets spoiled. i see him mentioned and i think of you at all times. you're so creative, kind, and talented ontop of that... and i just adore you so much. it's really special how just... seeing someone write a character on the dash can endear you to them so deeply. also please tell james that seb loves his bro ☺️

no bro, the way i’m actually crying bro. just ... bro. okay but actually being serious ??? this is the biggest compliment ever. i mean do not engage with marble, mine is the only james you need really <333 but you are one of the most gifted writers i have come across and i am just so blessed that you choose to follow me and additionally let me yell bro at you, bro. ilusm and you are a real gift to have on my dash and in my life. thank you for your existence and your talent, and james loves seb sm, thats his bro.

                          HOW IS MY PORTRAYAL ? FEAT. @gunbash  <3 

[pocket-void]

ilusm mock !! u are... a very cool void cat. full of endless mysteries and shining stars that can burst into light at any moment.

Sash this is like the coolest thing I could’ve woken up to, thank you. o///o✨💖

ilysm too!! And I absolutely love and appreciate every note you send, so bless your heart and soul you lovely eldritch creacherrr. ^\\\^💕💖