#i've almost done the colouring but i want to post it now
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genderlessghoul · 1 year ago
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I've been wanting to do this post for a while now so here is EVERYTHING I CAN TELL YOU ABOUT THE GHOULS' IMPERA COSTUMES.
Buckle up because I have a LOT to say about those, this is gonna be a very long one.
The costumes were designed by B Åkerlund, a Swedish costume designer who's worked with Ghost since at least Meliora (that's as far back as I was willing to scroll on her Instagram page lol). B Åkerlund has also worked for many other musical artists such as Lady Gaga, Beyoncé, Madonna, the Rolling Stones, Ozzy Osborne, Blink 182 and Hollywood Undead (information from her own website)
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The masks were made by Bob Basset, a visual artists who works a lot with leather. I find his work fascinating, you can look him up on Instagram (nsfw warning, there's a few naked ladies).
Fun fact! The horns are real cow horns. That's the reason some of them have gold tips, to hide the imperfections that come with working with actual horns.
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He does have a shop where he sells his items, there's a mask there very similar to the Impera ones. You can also buy Papa's batwings if you happen to have 2500$ lying around!
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The jackets are made on the same model as one of Papa's. The back is decorated with a spine-like design made from leather and cording. It's adorned with a few of our classic Impera buttons. Some of the hems were left raw and some deliberate weathering was done to make it look old and worn.
Fun fact! The shoulder pieces are not sewn into the garment, I would assume for easier cleaning. I don't know if they're held by strong magnets or snap buttons.
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The vest (my beloved 😩) is made from flocked velvet in a paisley pattern, the front hems embellished with satin piping. It closes in the front with custom metal clasps that are riveted into the garment. The D parts are attached with what seems to me like wide elastic, which would lessen the pression on the clasps when moving around a lot. The back is made from two different types of fabric, I'd have to touch it to be able to tell you what they are. I assume the panels closer to the sides have some mild stretch to them. The top of the shoulders are decorated with Impera grucifix patches.
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The shirts were not custom made for the ghouls, altho they were altered. The original shirt in the vintage painter linen shirt from Punk Rave and it is still being sold. Some of the cuffs were altered, removing the ruffles for some of the ghouls, but not all. They were removed for Dew, Mountain and Phantom, Aether's didn't have them either. As far as I can tell, all the ghoulettes still have them.
An unfinished piece of linen serves as an ascot, that piece is decorated with a metal devil skull. The colour of the skull doesn't appear to be consistent between each ghoul, Dew's looks gold almost bronze while Phantom's is a silver-like colour.
Another modification is the buttons, a small portion of them were removed in favor of our Impera buttons. Some of the ghouls have more buttons replaced than others, which is still a mystery to me.
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The pants are called Jodhpurs, they were invented in the 1800s as horse riding pants. The wide part at the hips and thighs allowing for better movement. The ones the ghouls wear don't reach all the way to their ankles, they stop a bit past the calf muscle, hidden by the boots. (Yes, the ghouls are effectively wearing capri pants)
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The boots are motorcycle riding boots, decorated by a grucifix. Like the shirt, they can still be bought online through the All American Boots website, altho the price tag is... Headache inducing to say the least.
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The cape is a piece of costume that was only briefly worn on stage by the ghouls, Aurora being the only one who still wears one. I would assume it gets in the way of playing very easily. The cape itself is made of two fabrics, a light blue satin and a dark grey suede. The two pieces are not sewn together at the bottom, they move freely from each other. The cape is attached on the left shoulder with a harness piece that has one strap across the chest, decorated with a metal buckle, and one under the armpit.
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Aight that's it for me, have a nice day byyyyye!!
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capquinn · 1 month ago
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Do you have any of your own dad!quinn daydreams with him and Bug in the Amazon episode? Is he the type of parent to completely avoid her being posted or he’s okay with a small amount like pictures and candid moments
oh i've been waiting for this one!!!!!
Quinn’s online presence has basically become non-existent since he became captain, which makes total sense. When he does post or share something, it’s almost entirely about his career — the odd Insta story repost from the Canucks, like charity work or celebrating a teammate's milestone, or occasionally something promotional for the Canucks or NHL posted to his feed. I mean, we didn’t even get a summer dump this year, so it’s clear he’s become much more private. The idea of him posting something personal would feel so out of character now, you know? Honestly, I’d have to wonder if he was being held at gunpoint if it happened lol
With that in mind, I feel like dad!quinn would take that privacy even further when it comes to Bug. He wouldn’t post her on social media at all — there’s no way he’d want her out there for public consumption. Maybe he’d share the occasional snippet on a private or close friends Instagram story, but even then, he’d be incredibly careful about what he shows. Think faceless photos — like a shot of her little sunhat shielding her face as she sits on the dock at the lake house in the summer, or a picture she drew of him, proudly displayed on the fridge with a caption like, “she’s pretty critical of my stick handling.” Those little moments that mean everything to him, but he’d keep them just for the people closest to him.
With the Face Off stuff, He’d want to keep her out of it entirely, likely requesting that they not film her or include anything too personal, doing his best to protect that part of his life. Instead, there’d just be traces of his family in the background — things that suggest without showing. A toy box tucked into the corner of the living room, a teddy bear left on the sofa, a colouring book and crayons on the dining table, family photos on the mantle but filmed at a distance so nothing is truly decipherable.
At most, maybe there’d be one sweet, subtle moment near the end. Like a clip of him on the boat with Jack, wakeboarding, and you hear Bug’s tiny voice calling, “daddy!” from the dock. The camera wouldn’t even show her — just her voice floating across the water while the shot stays focused on Quinn. His reaction would say everything, though: his big, unrestrained smile, the way his eyes would light up as he waves back toward her standing beside you on the shore. It’d be the perfect glimpse into his life as a dad without crossing the line into showing too much.
They might ask him during the interview part of filming what it’s been like balancing being a captain and a first-time dad, and his lips would twitch into that soft, shy smile, his gaze dropping for a moment like he’s carefully choosing what not to say. His answer would be thoughtful yet still so reserved. Something like, “it’s been amazing. It’s definitely a balance — wanting to give everything I can to both — but being her dad is the best thing I’ve ever done. She's pretty great.” And I can just imagine his smile growing as he talks about it, like he’s holding back from saying more because he wants to protect that part of his life so fiercely. The cameras might linger on him for a moment after his answer, his expression so sweet and so vulnerable, almost distant, like he’s thinking about Bug back home, probably drawing another masterpiece for the fridge.
It feels like exactly the kind of balance Quinn would strive for — protecting his family’s privacy while still giving the smallest, most heartfelt window into the joy of what being a dad brings him.
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k2ntoss · 7 months ago
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okay so yet again i was scrolling through insta reels and i saw this and immediately thought, 'oh jason would love one of this with his helmet' so i thought i'd share (hopefully the video doesn't just disappear into the ether or this wont make much sense but yeah)
https://www.instagram.com/reel/C8XdIwStYFg/?igsh=MWdzZXVpZHV3dm8zbw==
((in case it does for some reason disappear, it was a reel of a girl making a diy spiderman mask shirt with a pattern and then the red colouring bit of the mask was filled in with kisses using paint))
but yeah, i think making a red hood one for jason would be so fun and i just know the man would be so so smitten when it's given to him
anyways, love you, glad your posting again
- the ever present 🦊
"the ever present" OMG I ADORE YOU!!!!!! hi baby, been missing you with your brain tickling requests (i have one on hold but just you wait)
i've been looking to do one of those for me with red hood's logo bc i'm as single as one can be and i know i won't be getting someone to do this for me but okayyyyyy i can do it on my own. here comes something short but done with a lot of love
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𔓕 ۪  ۫ ୭
jason had been waiting outside the room for hours maybe, he was just sitting on the couch as he looked at the door like a sad puppy because he had arrived this morning to your apartment looking foward to spend time with you. some cuddling, watching a movie together or reading, jason just wanted some quality time with his beloved.
he knew you had been busy during the week with a huge amount of projects you wanted to do but he wasn't expecting you to get so fixated over one to lock yourself into your room and not even peek to see him and he didn't knew why, what jason also didn't knew was the fact that you were already getting dizzy by the smell of paint inside your closed room as you placed the shirt over your desk again, grabbing a pencil to fix the outline of the desing for the hundreth time in the day.
"fuck, fuck, fuck..." you muttered as low as you could to keep jason from darting into the room and ruin the surprise and it took you a good couple of hours to finally have it done, the paint almost completely dry now and the image of it was neat, making you smile and giggle happily.
and it's just then when you decide it's time to open the door, peeking your head through the small space to find jason almost melted on the couch, his head resting against the wall as he kept his eyes closed but it wasn't even a second by when he snapped his eyes open to look at you with a small frown.
"baby? why are you-?" she stopped mid sentence, taking in the sight of your paint smeared lips and chin, the red bright color now cracked on your skin as you smiled back at him as if you just made the biggest discovery in your life.
"hush! c'mere, jaybirdie" you say, leaving the door to your room wide open just to reveal the fact that your whole frame was a mess and that the paint was not only on your face but it had dripped to your shirt and also to your bare thighs to the skin that wasn't covered by the sleeping shorts you were wearing.
jason stands up from his seat, stretching completely from his quick nap and walks into the now messy room. the small paint pots across the floor and desk in different shades of red, paint brushes here and there and then the sight of you standing in front of the middle of your desk, covering something jason couldn't quite see well enough to know what it was.
"i saw something and i had to do this... it's probably the cheesiest thing i've ever done so feel free to laugh at me" and those words make jason tilt his head because what on earth could be so cheesy and made with paint that needed this much time leaving him out of your room? because yes, jason wanted to cuddle and don't blame him.
"princess-" he starts but goes silent the second you pull from the desk a black shirt with a print of his helmet on it, all made in different shades of red kiss marks that emulated the shade of light and everything. his lips remain parted as he walks slowly towards you, his fingers gently tracing the outline of the print on the shirt before he looks at your face, the paint in your skin the evidence of the time you spent painting your lips and pressing kisses to the shirt to make something so sweet for him.
"is it too much? you know, you can just put it into your closet if you don't like-" but your words are cut by a tender kiss, jason cups your face in such a delicate embrace as he lets all his feelings pour into that simple kiss.
"i love it. i love you" he says, his voice a soft whisper even in that deepish tone of his and it makes your heart flutter because jason looks completely happy with the shirt as he holds it into his hands, still admiring the way you decided to replicate a part of him "it's just perfect..."
"can i wear it already?"
the question itself is the sweetest reaction he could give you, the eagerness to wear something you made for him making you giggle excitedly as you shook your head with a small pout.
"not yet, red... i should iron it and give it a quick wash so the paint stays on the fabric" and he pouts slightly because god knows how much he wishes to have your kisses closer to his heart.
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ynbabe · 1 year ago
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Fake texts au- pt.10 bffs with the rookies+ The Hangover III
I can't believe we're on part 10 already 😭😭😭
| Masterlist |
"How could I? I didn't have my phone?" the girl asked slightly panicked,.
"That's because you had mine," Lando spoke up, tapping on his phone, "You logged into your account from mine," he said showing it to the girl.
"WHY DIDN'T YOU STOP ME?" She yelled.
"BECAUSE YOU GUYS KEPT RUNNING ONTO THE FUCKING ROAD AND LOGAN AND ARTHUR COSPLAYED SPIDER-MAN" He yelled back.
"Okay, okay," Max put his hands up to calm the two down, sometimes they were so similar he'd want to ask if Lando had a twin separated at birth, "Lando, what did she post?"
"oh oooh, this going to be fun," the boy said, switching to the girl's profile.
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its_y/n_love
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liked by 21,023 users
Tagged: @/arthur_leclerc @/logansargeant @/oscarpiastri
its_y/n_love me with my Pookie bears everyone say thank you Oscar for paying the Hospital bills 😍
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usernamei SHES GIVINGGG
username she ATE
username they're her pookie bears 😭 she's so unserious I unironically stan her
username a grown woman calling grown men pookie bears 😒 username fr like oscar had to pay for HER hospital bills username he literally payed for Arthurs too but yall ain't gon say none abt that
its_y/n_love
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liked by 501,023 users
Tagged: @/arthur_leclerc @/logansargeant @/oscarpiastri @/landonorris
its_y/n_love LANDOOOOOOOOO why he always with his boy tho 🤨
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username omg she's literally living my dream 😫
username fr god i've seen what you've done for others
username omg she's freeloading off him now too?
username give it up she literally just their friend username and even if she wasn’t why would yall treat her differently than any other wag? username look at her man she's literally using them for fame and money
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"Well, that wasn't as bad," y/n shrugged.
"That's cause you didn't have your camera roll," Logan snapped back, finally feeling a little more human, the hangover easing down.
"Look who's talking," the Aussie came to y/n's defence, "You're lucky you didn't have YOUR phone," Oscar called out, making the American's face turn red.
"Damnnn Oscar!" The girl praised, colour returning to his face, all were slowly returning to normal, even Arthur had found his way back to the table. Seeing this, the two older men Max and Charles ordered for the table, while Lando, went through more of Y/n's Instagram with the group.
"Honestly, the response isn't that bad, and our PR officers won't murder us, sooo we're good," he said, smiling and logging out of her Instagram account.
"Oh my god," The Monganeseque boy spoke up after being missing for almost half an hour, " I don't think we ate last night," he said shoving the food in his mouth.
The older men expected one of the other three to corroborate the boy's words but they just witnessed four twenty-somethings guzzling down food and large glasses of OJ, lifting plates to slide food into their mouths, letting runny egg yolks and bacon grease getting over their face and hands.
"Fucking hell," Max snarled, "it's like watching animal planet or something,"
"It's disgusting is what it is," Charles agreed, "MERDE ARTHUR, MAMAN RAISED YOU BETTER THAN THIS!" He yelled at his brother who was currently dipping a rolled up pancake in orange juice.
"Oh mate that's fucking disgusting," Y/n scoffed but then followed suit.
"Both of you are insane," Logan cried out, his accent thick, but failed to notice his own disgusting plate, dipping his bacon in maple syrup.
"ugh, there is something mentally deficient with all of you," Oscar frowned.
"Big words for someone mixing coffee into their oj," Lando cringed, taking a photo of the four and their disgusting eating habits.
"I- I can't look at this, I'm leaving," Charles gave up, holding up his hands in surrender, "I have a meeting at Ferrari anyways,"
"Bye, Charles!" the table chorused.
"Oh shit, it's 11am already?" Max called, looking at his watch, "I've got debrief at noon, see you next race, yeah Y/n?" He patted the girl's shoulder as he left.
"Never, again, ever." She yelled out, behind the man, making him laugh.
"Wait really?" The American looked over, bacon in hand.
"Nah, but like I've got uni and stuff and I've been going Arthurs races as well so, I'll probably be back by Britain or Netherlands," she explained.
"Oh yeah I forgot you still go to uni," Lando said.
"Not all of are millionaires cause of our fast vroom vroom cars," she spit back.
"yeah, yeah, " he waved off, "Oscar, Zak's told me to babysit you till our flight tomorrow so you don't do something or someone," he wriggled his brows, smirking at his teammate, making him roll his eyes, "you regret, so let's go and leave that disgusting abomination here," he said pointing to the coffee-orange juice.
"Guy's I don't know about y'all but I'm going go and pass out in the room till next year," The girl said, pushing away from the table.
"Same," The two boys followed.
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oooooh this was ✨✨✨ but next we have the summer break chapter 🤭
Taglist: @dark-night-sky-99 @cashtons-wife @i-wish-this-was-me @thehufflepuffavenger1 @eugene-emt-roe @fangirl-dot-com
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aziraphales-library · 4 days ago
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I'm dying to read Aziraphale annoying Crowley by being the cutest and one flustered demon being unable to help himself being so disgustingly in love with the angel 🥹🥹🥹 can you rec me some? pretty please 🍪💕
I just found this blog now by posting over at reddit: "Are there any fics where Crowley's deeply annoyed by Aziraphale's antics because he's so gd cute he wants to disintegrate? I'd read the hell out of it. Very canon. 😻" Lol. I'm willing to write something like this.... I actually might but wanna read it too 🥹🥹🥹
I know there's lots of these out there. This fandom is the most talented and plentiful I've ever seen :333
Thanks in advance xx
We have a #flustered crowley tag with loads of fics, so check that out. Here are more to add to the collection...
No sunglasses in the bookshop by ineffablegold (G)
The angel’s hands very briefly (but very surely) brushed on Crowley’s chest while he moved and spoke and wriggled oh so endearingly, right over his black shirt and the fallen angel could swear he saw stars again, like before the Beginning and like a flash there they were: nebulas all around him danced and exploded with colours. Crowley inhaled sharply and simply agreed with Aziraphale, no matter on what, he didn’t remember anyway. They’d be fine.
A Moonlit Masquerade by charlieiswritingthings (G)
“Say… How about we give dancing a try? After all, that’s one of the most important things about a masquerade, is it not?” Aziraphale tilts his head a bit, towards the direction of the dancers. His smile falters slightly when he hears what Crowley says next. “I don’t do dancing, Angel. You know that.” Crowley speaks with slight… almost annoyance, very obviously against the idea. Though, Aziraphale hasn’t given up quite yet. “Now, now. That simply won’t do. Let’s go have some fun together, shall we?” Aziraphale stands up, taking Crowley’s hand in his own as he begins walking in the direction of the dancefloor. A defeated sigh is heard coming from Crowley, and he’s forced to abandon his nearly finished glass of wine on the table.
Voicemails (from a Petty Demon) by sugardustedtulips (T)
“That’s it,” Crowley growled, taking large, bold strides toward the yellow Bentley in front of him, leaving the poor cherub blankly standing behind, ostensibly stunned. “What’s what?” Aziraphale asked, hoping he didn’t mean that he’d drive off without him. Surely Crowley wouldn’t be that petty. “I’m not talking to you for the rest of the day,” Crowley whispered matter-of-factly, hissing each sibilant as he punctuated his sentence by theatrically swinging open the car door.
Aziraphale makes the Bentley yellow. Furious, Crowley resorts to giving him the silent treatment. Of course, he misses the angel too much, and can’t help bombarding him with voicemails while locked in their bedroom.
A Midsummer Afternoon's Curse by cyankelpie (G)
(Aziraphale is the victim of a love spell, and needs Crowley’s help to break it. Which is a problem, because it’s very difficult for Crowley to focus while Aziraphale lavishes him with affection.) The rest of the sentence got knocked out of him by a large, off-white blur that flew out of the door and tackled him. “Crowley,” said a familiar voice, though the breathy fondness and affection in said voice was anything but familiar. “I knew you’d come.” Oh. It was Crowley. Crowley was the target of Aziraphale’s magical infatuation. Aziraphale wanted Crowley’s help ridding him of this newfound affection for Crowley. And Crowley, who somehow needed to be the level-headed one in this situation, was utterly fucked.
You Don't Need A Licence For That by WaitingToBeBroken (M)
Crowley works for the city council and is responsible for issuing licences and permits. Aziraphale seems to be hoarding them. Crowley should really reject some of those applications. And he will, once he is done pining over Aziraphale. Really, he will!
- Mod D
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hexxedghost · 2 months ago
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Uhh bsky seemed to like this thread when I posted it, so thought I might put it here too.
It's the only smut I've written (and man am I in awe of people who can just write smut all the time, I was in struggle town lads)
Top!Ghost, Bottom!Soap. Little hint of praise kink, I just want Ghost to call Soap a good boy and have Soap's brain melt over it.
Good Boy
In Soap’s defence, it had never happened before. He’d been praised for his work. 
A clap on the back and a ‘Good work, son’ from Price.
A cheeky grin and a ‘There’s a good lad.’ from Gaz
It felt good to have his work recognised. It left a warm, comforting sense of pride in his chest.
But when Ghost rested a heavy hand on his shoulder, leaning over with hot breath against his ear to say: “Good boy, Johnny.”
It nearly takes him out at the knees. The blood rushes south so fast, he nearly blacks out. As he walks away he can feel Ghosts eyes on him, face hot as the stumbles the first few steps.
The prick looks amused. Fucker.
It could have been fine, though, a one-off oddity that he can safely ignore until he’s in the privacy of his bunk.
But it wasn’t just once.
He swears Ghost is doing it just to fuck with him now.
He's sly about it, never saying when it's obvious or going to draw attention.
It's almost like he waits until Soap feels like he's back on solid footing before he casually drops it into conversation.
It was a quick murmur as they leave the helo after a mission, the sound of the chopper blades drowning out everything else as the hand on Soap's shoulder sears him like a brand.
Or an offhand comment when they've gone for a smoke, the words cheeky as Soap hands over the rolled cigarette.
The others don’t notice, too used to tuning out their banter by now. The addition of the occassional 'Good Boy' blending in with all the other colourful commentary they normally keep up.
Which is probably why Ghost feels ballsy enough to pull that shit during a mission.
After Soap has a frantic few seconds disarming a tangle of trips rigged to blow the building out from under them.
"Building safe, copy." he radios out, hands still shaking from how close that call had been.
“There’s a good boy, Johnny.” comes the heavy rasp crackling over the speaker.
On comms for fucks sake! Soap wants to fuckin throttle him.
Ghost is doing it just to get a rise out of him. And he hates that it's working.
Even when they’re at mess afterwards, hail and hearty with a successful mission right behind them, he can't seem to help teasing Soap.
“Nice job on that last one, Tav.” Gaz slaps him on the shoulder as he takes his seat.
“Youngest in the SAS for a reason.” Soap says around a mouthful of food, winking as Gaz pulls a face.
“Was well handled, nicely done, Soap." Price murmurs behind his mug.
"Proper good boy aren't you, Johnny?" comes the rumble at the end of the table.
His cheeks burn as Gaz and Price laugh. They don’t mean anything by it, they figure it's just being lads and taking the piss.
Soap risks a glance at Ghost and sees his eyes trained on him, a glint of something burning and dangerous peeking through the mask.
Christ he was so fucked.
-
It’s later on, past midnight, when he decides that something has to be done about it.
His can't focus when they’re on mission, either fuzzy with lust or trying to walk in a way that doesn't give away he’s hard enough to punch through wood.
He's not putting his squad at risk just because he's tenting his shorts like some hormonal teenager.
The sound of his knuckles rapping against the door feels louder in the late night air.  There's no answer at first, and he wonders if he's made a mistake, should just go back to his bunk.
But then the door opens, Ghost blinking languidly at him.
“Took you long enough.” he rasps.
“Piss off, ye feckin reprobate.” Soap shoulders his way past the door into Ghost's room and throws himself into a chair and feeling a little pissy he’ll admit.
Across the room, Ghost leans against the door, arms crossed and looking at Soap expectantly.
This was going to be like pulling teeth, and he can tell the bastard is amused by it all; eyes seeming to brighten under the mask.
“So, what's your reason, then?” he finally gets out.
“For?” Ghost asks, tilting his head.
Of course, the cunt was gonna make him say it. Part of Soap wants to just give up, storm out. Just go to his room, wank himself unconscious to be done with it.
But Ghost was blocking the door. On purpose, Soap would bet.
“Why do ye keep callin' me a fuckin good boy, eh?” he presses
Ghost holds his gaze and blinks slowly, “Morale”
Fuck it, Soap is leaving, he’s not playing this fuckin game. Even if he has to wrestle the man out of the door. He shoves at the big bastard to move.
“Telling me you didn’t like it, Johnny?” Ghost asks, barely moving from the force of the push Soap gave him.
Soap growls, frustrated, “No’ about that, is it? You dinnae call Gaz or feckin Price that. Is only me you do that to.”
“S’right. Only you.” Ghost counters.
He looks up at Ghost to find that gaze burning into him. This feels dangerous.
“Feelin a bit singled out is all, LT.” he mumbles, hand coming up to awkwardly rub at his neck.
He feels like he's on the wrong foot now, not sure where's safe to step in this minefield of a conversation.
Ghost pushes off the door and moves toward him. It feels like being hunted, and Soap is very quickly learning that apparently he likes that.
He stumbles as the back of his knees hit the bunk and suddenly Ghost is looming above him.
His blood feels molten, too close to his skin and rushing through him. There’s a buzz in his ears and his throat clicks when he swallows.
This close, he can feel Ghost chuckle, feel the hot wet breath on his neck when he leans down.
"D'you want this?" he asks, voice low.
Soap's tongue seems to stick to his mouth, unable to form words.
The prospect of finally getting to have the thing he'd been obsessing over for weeks.
The thing he'd spent the dead of night fucking his fist too, face hot with the shame of it.
It left his head spinning.
Eventually he manages to choke out,   
"Yes. Fuckin' yes, Ghost, pleas—"
He cuts off as Ghost grabs him by his hair, pulling just enough for his scalp to prickle as he growls in his ear.
"Good boy."
The whine that comes out of Soap should be embarrassing, but he's too gagging for it to care.
Ghost lets go of Soap's hair and stands back, just out of reach.  
"Get your kit off then, or do I have to do all the work?"
“Shoulda known you’d be a nasty bastard.” Soap snarks as he pulls his shirt over his head.
“Reckon you like that, Johnny.” comes the smug reply.
Soap ignores him, fumbling for his belt, shoving his pants down to his knees.
His head falls back, groaning lowly as the pressure on his cock finally lets. He goes to take a moment to collect himself. But instead there's rough hands tugging them the rest of the way, boots yanked off and tossed into the corner of the room.
"Impatient aren't we LT?" he jokes weakly, heart hammering in his chest.
The words die out as the bed dips. Ghost straddles him, settling on his chest heavily.
Soap feels like nothing exists beyond him, the way Ghost fills his vision. Calm and collected as he casually unzips and takes himself in hand.
"Done this before, Johnny boy?" he asks lightly, as if he wants to know the weather and not whether Soap's sucked cock before.
"Dinnae flatter yersel' Ghost. No' my first." Soap eventually rasps out, eyeing the thick length in Ghost's hand.  "I can take ye."
Ghost chuckles at that, "We'll see about that."
He taps the heavy head of his cock on Soap’s lips.
“Open up.” he orders.
God fuckin help him, Soap does, and tries to ignore the way his blood fucking sings at the single huff of approval out of the man over him
His head swims at the scent of hot skin and musk, mouth flooding with saliva at the taste of salty skin on his tongue as Ghost steadily feeds him his cock.
Part of him wants to drag his teeth against the tender flesh, just to be a brat, but there are strong hands in his hair and his eyes fall half closed.
Ghost hasn’t even taken his gloves off, still practically dressed.
At the realisation, Soap feels himself moan around the length in his mouth, Ghost's hands tightening in his hair.
“Knew you’d be good for me.” Ghost says, his voice is dark, and eyes bright in the dim light of the room
Soap can feel the sticky pool on his stomach from his cock, already angry red and steadily leaking.
“With me, Johnny.” Ghost demands.
Soap tears his eyes back to the man above him, the lighting making it seem like Ghost's eyes are molten gold.
He can tell under the mask he's smiling.
“There you are sweet'eart.”
He can’t stop the groan that comes out of him, stomach clenching at the petname.
Ghost adjusts his grip on Soap's hair, testing how much he can take before adjusting and rocking his hips forward.
“Just take it, there you go. There’s my good boy, eh?”
He relaxes his throat and breathes deep until his eyes start to water and his head swims with it. He’s already so close and he hasn’t even been touched yet, cock twitching each time Ghost bottoms out.
There's a moment, which his nose buried in the coarse hair at the root of Ghost's cock that he looks up and locks eyes with him. It's like staring at glowing coals, flickering embers held in the dark with a smouldering heat that scalds his blood.
Soap's feels his cock twitch in warning, he's so fucking close, he feels his eyes start to roll back.
But then Ghost smoothly pulls out of his mouth, leaving Soap gasping and blinking away the tears. Lightheaded and dizzy from the sudden rush of oxygen into his lungs.
“Not bad. Reckon there's room for improvement.” Ghost says, chuckling at the frustrated sob Soap lets out against his thigh. There's the soft touch of a hand through his hair, before Ghost moves away, sitting at the side of the bed. Soap throws an arm over his eyes, chest heaving with each breath.
There's the feeling of a gloved hand trailing over his stomach, making him jump.
“Nearly made a mess of yourself, though.” he hears Ghost tease.
“Fuck off” Soap's voice cracks, Christ he sounds wrecked
He looks at Ghost from under his arm, seeing his eyes trace the same path as his fingers had.
“Ye could get more comfortable, ye know?” he grumbles, causing Ghost to look over at him. As much as it had been exciting, he's starting to feel awkward completely starkers while Ghost could zip up and be ready for the tarmac.
“I look uncomfortable to you?”
The bastard is grinning, Soap can tell.
“Ye look like yer dressed for a fuckin funeral.” Soap quips, looking at the ceiling, heart still beating too fast.
“Can’t have you dying before I’ve had my fun.” Ghost teases as he gest to his feet and  strips off.  The pale flesh and scars are devoured by Soap’s hungry gaze as his eyes are drawn back, like a moth to a flame.
As he drops the last piece of clothing to the floor, he looks over to Soap on the bed.
“Mask stays on.” he says, the rest of him bare.
“I dinnae care.” Soap lies.
Both of their eyes tracking how his cock jumped at the idea.
Ghost laughs, not unkindly, “Slag.”
The bed shifts under him as Ghost settles at the end of it. Soap sits up on his elbows, suddenly nervous.
He's no stranger to casual dalliance, to a quick and dirty release stolen in a pub bathroom or if he's lucky someone's flat if they're generous.
But it's Ghost.
It matters. It's not something he leaves in the early hours, hidden in cigarette smoke and strangers mouths. What if it ruins everything?
"Johnny?" Ghost is looking at him, a hand circled around Soap's ankle.
"M'fine," he says without thinking, scrambling for an excuse for his sudden silence, "was jus' wondering how ye want me?"
He goes to roll over, but there's a sudden fierce grip on his hips as Ghost tugs him down the bed, keeping him on his back.
"Wanna see you." is all Ghost says.
Soap feels like his heart is lodged in his throat, as Ghost rummages around in the bedside table.
"You've done this part before, haven't you?" it's a genuine question. But there's that teasing tone to it that has Soap rolling his eyes, falling back into the rhythm of their banter.
"Oh aye, I'm a fuckin blushin virgin." he jokes, kicking out and catching Ghost in the side. "Chaste as a priest, I am."
Ghost glances up at him, the heat still in his eyes.
“Better start praying then Johnny. Won’t be after I’m done with you.“
Soap feels his breath catch at the threat. “That a promise, LT?”
Ghost doesn’t respond, instead just clicks the bottle of lube open, pouring some onto his fingers and pressing two into Soap. There's an intensity to his focus as he presses deeper until they brush against the spot that punches a groan out of Soap.
"There we are."
"Hurry it up will ye?" Soap growls. He'd been trying to ignore the dull ache of being stretched open. But now there was a steady building at the base of his spine, his breath coming in shallow, cock filling out again after flagging.
"Patience is a virtue, Johnny." Ghost murmurs.
Soap winces at the feeling of Ghost removing his fingers, looking down as there’s a pause.
“Ye alright?”
He can't help but ask.
He gets a nod in response.
“Well, come on then. Show me how nasty ye are.” he wiggles his eyebrows and revels in the small huff of a laugh from Ghost as he lines himself up.
“Might regret that, Johnny.” Ghost says, locking eyes with him.
“Regret you takin yer fuckin tim-” he cuts off in a groan as Ghost smoothly presses the head of his cock in, his other hand tightly gripping Soap's waist.
“Fuckin hell, coulda warned me.” he says to Ghost's shoulder.
Ghost hums. "Could’ve.”
“Prick.” Soap lets his head fall back. He relaxes into the feeling, letting his body adjust. Ghost waits until Soap gives him a nod before slowly sheathing himself to the root.
That lightheaded feeling is back as Soap rests his head against Ghost's sternum. That languid bloodwarm feeling of being full trickling up his spine.
“You solid?” he hears from above him.
Soap shifts a bit, feeling the ache of how stretched he was. “Aye.”
“Good.” is all the warning he gets before the first thrust knocks the breath out of Soap’s lungs. His hands come up to grasp at Ghost's biceps, groaning at the drag of skin on skin, wet heat and rushing blood.
It's not gentle, he’s sure he’ll have bruises on his hips to hide for weeks from the whiteknuckle grip Ghost has. But he could tell the bastard was holding back.
“I’m no’ made of glass, Ghost, I can take it.” he bites out.
Ghost laughs in his ear. “Careful Johnny, or I’ll ruin you for anyone else.”
The response is automatic.
“Ye already have.”
Ghost stills and Soap feels immediate panic he’d overstepped.
They hadn’t spoken about what this was.
Whether it was just a bit fun to left off steam or something more that they'd been dancing around for years.
Before he can scramble to come up with an apology, a joke to lessen the seriousness of what he’s just let fall out of his mouth, Ghost gives a snarl.
He snaps his hips forwards and Soap can swear he feels it in his throat.
The grip on his hips tightens so hard it nearly hurts as Ghost drives into him. It feels primal and possessive, heady and addicting as he rakes his nails down pale flesh, urging for more.
Ghost grabs the back of his neck, pulls him forward so he can growl in his ear.
“Made for this aren’t you, made for me.”
It isn’t a question, though Soap thinks he’s nodding. He feels dizzy with it, how much he wants this, how much Ghost wants him.
“Gonna be a good boy for me, Johnny?”
Ghost voice sounds raw, eyes burning as the meet Soap's.
“Fuck.” Soap sobs, it sounds more like a plea than an answer.
“There you are, sweet'eart, show me how well you take me.”
Soap falls back on the bed, Ghost's hand drifting from the back of his neck down to his thighs. He can feel the rough calluses on his skin, feel his teeth nearly rattle as Ghost slams into him.
It’s too much, just on this side of painful and he never wants it to end.
There's a dizzying feeling every time he feels Ghosts cock drag against him in just the right way. There's bruises blooming on his hips under the near deathgrip Ghost has on him.
“Thought about this a lot. How good you'd be for me.”
Soap doesn't have it in him to respond, he feels like he’s sinking deeper into a calm. His body goes lax and boneless, mind buzzing at the pleased growl from Ghost when his body just submits.
“Love seeing you like this Johnny, fucked brainless and still fuckin desperate for me.”
That pulls a whine out him, clenching down around the cock still driving deeper into him. He thought Ghost would be quiet, but each word of praise fills him like warm honey, mind swimming.
“Show me you can come like this, sweet'eart.”
Soap can already feel himself hurtling towards the edge, wrapping an arm around the back of Ghost's neck and pulling him close.  
"Fuck, Ghost, please." he pleads.
He hears Ghost's voice in his ear, raw and rough, “That's it love, be pretty for me.”
That does it.
Soap's entire body seems to lock up for a moment, pleasure sparking through him and settling into the base of his skull with a blistering heat. His cock pulses, untouched and painting his stomach.
“There’s a good boy.” he hears Ghost murmur. He bites down on the meat of Ghost's shoulder to muffle the whine that threatens to make its way out, hearing those words.
As he comes down, dizzy still, his head lolls forward, like his strings have been cut. He dimly registers the twitch of Ghost’s cock inside him, and softly groans at the feeling of it slipping out of him spent.
Soap slumps on the bed without Ghost’s grip holding him, body heavy and lax after the orgasm that was wrung out of him. He should get up, he knows the routine. He should leave so he isn't intruding.
Instead, his eyelids grow heavy and he drifts into darkness.
When he comes back to himself, he's been cleaned up, blanket pulled over him to keep out the chill. There’s a solid weight beside him.
“Back with me?” Ghost asks.
“Solid.” his words sound slurred, but the laugh from Ghost isn’t cruel. Soap pushes himself up so he's sitting, before Ghost speaks again.
"Didn't hurt you, did I?" There is a weight to his words, even though he's clearly trying to keep the tone light.
"Reckon me hips'll have a few bruises. I dinnae mind that though." he glances down at the purple on his side. It's not quite a handprint but enough of a suggestion of one. Showers were going to be fun.
He jumps as Ghost trails a finger over one, gentle and completely at odds with what had caused them.
"I'll keep that in mind." Ghost says. There's something about his voice that's off, doesn't feel like it's hitting Soap's ears like it normally does. He looks over to ask him if he's alright. It takes Soap a moment to realise what’s different.
“Ye weren’t lyin. Yer a bonnie bastard beneath the mask.”
He gets a smirk in response, and his heart fuckin clenches with it. He still hadn’t asked what this meant, for them. He suddenly feels vulnerable, naked and tucked into the covers of Ghost’s bunk.
"Eh, sorry for passing out on ye at the end there," Soap mumbles, his ears burning.
Ghost shrugs, "S'fine. Don't mind."
Thre's a quiet, but the buzzing unease under Soap's skin doesn't settle. Just like before, he doesn't know where to put his feet, worried he'll detonate whatever this is between them.
"Do ye want me to leave?" he asks like an idiot.
“Got somewhere to be?” Ghost raises an eyebrow.
"You reckon there's somewhere I should be?" he counters with another question. It's the same dance they've done for years, always toeing the line but neither crossing. Strange to have the feeling after they've fucked like they'd die without it.
Ghost sighs after a moment, and Soap readies himself for the pushback. The return to status quo.
Instead, Ghost grabs him by his chin, holding his gaze steady.
"If I wanted a quick fuck I've got more than enough offers, Johnny. Wouldn't have risked this."
He rests his forehead against Soap's.
Their breaths merge in the space between them,
"Fucking said before, didn't I? Only you." he says softer this time, thumb absently running along Soap's jawline.
It feels like the minefields behind them. Throwing caution to the wind, Soap moves forward and kisses him.
Something in him settles when Ghost's hand shifts from his chin to cup his face, a warm feeling in his chest that burns brighter than pride as he drags his teeth and gets a nip back in retaliation.
It feels just like the normal back and forth in a strange way that makes him laugh, Ghost grumbling a bit.
"Was enjoying that." he murmurs into the crook of Soap's neck.
"Was enjoying not doing missions half mast, but ye ruined that ye fuckin bastard," Soap counters, frowning as he feels Ghost smile against his skin. He shoves him.
"Ye can't be calling me fuckin good boy in front of the others." he says seriously. As much as his blood sings with how good this all feels, he doesn't want it to effect the team, or his ability to do his job.
"I won't." Ghost says, and actually sounds like he means it. 
He pulls Soap close to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pressing his face into his neck. Sleep doesn't make them wait long.
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gremlinmodetweeker · 4 months ago
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In the Heart of My Mother I Laugh
So it's about time for some Summoned!König! I haven't done any in a while. However, I knew that I needed to do something for Summoned!König. My little eldritch horror needed to introduce at least one member of his family, and I've been thinking about Summoned!König's mom a lot. I think she'd be fascinating.
Anyways!
TW: None
Wordcount: 2.1k
Art from This Post
Story Below the Cut
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In the Heart of My Mother I Laugh
You practically skipped back to your room. Your thoughts were light clouds wafting through your mind, your body only weighted down by the mountain of chocolate you carried abc to your room. You were so ecstatic that you didn’t even care when the other soldiers commented on how much chocolate you were carrying, focussing only on the night ahead.
You poured the boxes over the table before standing back to admire your haul. Well, ‘your’ haul. There was no way you could ever eat this much chocolate, the thought was laughable. But, you had a feeling you’d be meeting someone who very well might like these chocolates.
Behind you, the lights flickered and popped.
You turned around with a smile.
“Ready?” you asked eagerly.
König groaned as he walked to your side, “I don’t think this is really necessary, Summoner. I insist that you reconsider this meeting.”
“But you met my parents!” you countered, “it’s only fair I meet yours!”
“Not parents,” König corrected you quickly, “parent. I only have a mother.”
“Did your parents get divorced?” you asked.
“No. I do not have a biological father,” König replied testily, “I have only one parent.”
“So I’m meeting your mom today?” you rocked back and forth on your heels.
“Again, I strongly encourage you to call off this arrangement. I am telling you now that it’s not necessary,” König crossed his arms over his chest.
“König,” you glared at your summon, “if you want me to be your ‘wife’ or whatever, I’m gonna need to meet your mom.”
“My mama already approves of your matching,” König grumbled.
“But I wanna meet her!” you complained, “it’s not fair that you met my parents but I’ve never met yours.”
“I assure you that meeting my mama would not be as pleasant as you think it would be,” König sniffed, “she is far, far above me in the summon hierarchy and, by extension, you. I highly doubt she would take kindly to meeting a mortal like you.”
“Then I need to change her mind,” you bundled the chocolates into your arms.
“You truly think this paltry offering would turn the tides of her favor?” König drawled.
“Maybe,” you shrugged, “it’s worth a shot.”
König rolled his eyes and took a long breath. On exhaling, he raised up one hand and flicked his wrist. The air crackled and hissed as reality tore in two before you. You were hit by the staggering smell of ocean salt and iron. You coughed on the heavy feeling of the air shifting in your lungs, but König paid you no mind as he dragged you through the portal.
Normally, you were surrounded by lights and colours of your world. In this portal, you were assaulted by a variety of sounds and tastes. Your eyes were blinded by a myriad of flashing lights in all different directions as you spun helplessly through the air. In the distance, you could make out the form of König as he leaned back and crossed his legs. You were about to spit curses when the taste of sour milk coated your tongue. You gagged, and the taste was replaced by the feeling of mushroom stalks squirming over your body. You tried to shake them off, only to shake out of the portal and into a great cavernous void.
You floated limply in the air. All around you, the world quivered in the darkness. Yet when you looked down at your hands, there wasn’t a single shadow on your body. You almost felt as though you were glowing, a firefly in the oppressive darkness.
Beside you, König curled through the air. He wasn’t anywhere near the form you usually saw. You could only tell it was König by the bright blue eyes that spotted his serpentine body. Long black tentacles unfurled around him, taking you by the wrist and tugging you through the emptiness to curl around you.
“König?” you whispered.
You felt more than heard his deep laughter. His normally high voice had dropped to abyssal tones, almost too low for you to be able to perceive.
“Is this your mom’s house?”
König paused. All his hundreds of thousands of tentacles froze in place as all his eyes spaced out. In an instant, all of his multitudinous narrowed as they stared at you.
“Did you just call my mama’s chamber, her palace of nightmares and dreams, her temple to the greater arts that arc above us, my ‘mom’s house’?”
“Uh-huh.”
Steam hissed out from the gills that slit across his skin, “So be it.”
His form curled around you further, drawing you onto his side to rest on what you suspected to be his back. You sat against the long black spines of his crimson back fin and crossed your legs. You put your bags of chocolate down on his slippery skin and put your hands behind his head.
“So, this was where you grew up?” you asked.
“No,” his voice echoed around you, “I grew up in her lungs. We’re in her heart right now.”
You listened close, but there wasn’t a single sound aside from König’s tentacles writhing over each other.
“I don’t hear a heartbeat,” you said.
“I’m doing my best to muffle it for you,” König replied.
“Let me guess, the sound of it would drive me insane? Have me marching to the mad cosmic waltz of Azathoth?” you snickered.
“No,” König huffed, “I just wouldn’t be able to hear you.”
“Oh.”
“Is it a crime to enjoy my summoner’s voice?” König asked.
“No, I just thought it would be some weird cosmic stuff,” you shrugged.
“My mother is surprisingly tame, Summoner,” König replied, “she understands that if you are to be my mate, she cannot eviscerate you before even speaking to you.”
“She wouldn’t do that to her son, would she?” you glanced up at where you thought König’s face might be, but his body extended far out of sight.
“I wouldn’t imagine so,” König replied, “I’m her favorite son, after all.”
“You’re the favorite?”
“Out of three-hundred thousand.”
You whistled, “Sounds like a big family.”
“You could hardly imagine,” König groaned.
You snorted and settled back against König’s spine. If nothing else, at least in his true form he was comfortable to sit on. A bit cold to the touch, but not nearly as slimy as you expected. In fact, his skin was surprisingly smooth to the touch.
“So, where is your mom?” you asked.
“She’s already here.”
On cue, billions upon billions of eyes opened up all around you. Each one was ever so slightly different from the others, be it in colour shape or size. They all blinked asynchronously as they looked down on the tiny human that sat in her heart.
You braced yourself for the volume to come, but she said nothing aloud. Instead, you heard her voice as a soft, creaking whisper in your mind.
“So this is my son’s mate?”
You glanced around, unable to fixate on one single eye until a curtain of eyes parted to reveal one giant squid eye staring down at you.
“You may speak.”
“Uh…” you stared at the eye in front of you, easily as tall as an apartment building and wide as a canyon.
“Tell me, what makes you worthy of my greatest warrior?”
You trembled as the voice curled through your mind.
“I’m his summoner?” you offered meekly. Your imagined meeting was quickly evaporating from your mind.
“You’re his summoner?” the whisper cackled, “not his mate then?”
“I…” you hissed. König tensed beneath you. You felt a sudden weight in your chest, like a hand curling around your heart.
You looked up at the eye, “I’m his mate.”
You felt your ears pop as the pressure swept away. The darkness receded to reveal a warm red glow surrounding you, strobing lightly with the steady beat of a heart.
“Good,” König’s mother whispered, “I would hate for a human to break his heart.”
“I have no intentions to,” you sat up straighter.
“You know, König was made from my atlas, yes?”
“No,” you admitted, “I don’t actually know much about your son.”
“You don’t know the roots of his birth, and yet you call himself his mate?”
The room darkened again slightly.
You cringed into your mate’s spine, “I… I think I am. Aren’t I?”
“That is not for me to answer.”
You crossed your arms over your chest, the only protection between you and the massive golden eye.
“I think I am.”
“Think?”
You swallowed, “I… I know.”
The whisper rolled around your skull before sitting back between your ears, “Interesting. So you know little of your mate. You met because of a twist of fate, and you think his mercy is his courting?”
“I thought he liked me,” you admitted.
“Does he?”
“Mama,” König grumbled, somehow not particularly disturbed.
“König, my precious hero, I am only asking for your sake,” She fussed.
König bristled slightly, flared his back fin behind you, but said nothing more. Evidently, you were alone in this battle.
“I think he likes me,” you declared as firmly as you could.
The eye scrutinized you further. You felt your head throb slightly. Just as you felt you might be snuffed out like a candle, the warm red glow came back.
“I’m glad to hear,” the voice subsided, “so tell me, why did you come to my home?”
“Um…” you glanced around before your eyes landed on the bags of chocolate, “oh! König told me you liked these! They’re chocolates!” you offered up the bag.
The bag slipped from your fingers and floated close to the eye. She scrutinized the bag before it disappeared into an inky void.
“Hold on.”
You waited with baited breath.
“Why does this one taste like vomit?”
An empty candy wrapper landed in your lap. You picked it up and scrutinized it.
“It’s a hershey bar,” you explained, “it’s an American chocolate.”
“It tastes vile.”
“I’m so sorry I didn’t think-”
“Now this one,” a caramilk wrapper dropped down, “this is sublime. Tell me, where do you get such a decadent treat? Surely this must be one of the greatest delicacies of your kind!”
“Um, I actually just got it from the grocery store,” you admitted.
“The grocery store?”
“It’s where humans buy food,” you offered, “they’re pretty common.”
“So you’re telling me humans have such luxuries at their fingertips?”
“If you have the money, yeah,” you shrugged, "but this one's pretty cheap. I got a two-for-one deal on this."
She was silent for a moment.
“Your kind is more advanced than I realized,” She finally admitted.
“Humans can be pretty neat,” you replied.
“So tell me, you’ve been seeing my son for how long now?” She asked, her voice notably losing the cool edge it previously held.
“Um, about six months I think?” you frowned, “König how long has it been since I summoned you?”
“Six months, twenty days, six hours, fifteen minutes and eight seconds ago,” König replied calmly.
“Thanks!” you chirped.
“Ah, so your relationship has only just begun,” She hummed, “well, I must say if you’ve lasted this long, that must be worth some note.”
“I sure hope so,” you laughed awkwardly.
“And a jester! I do think that’s one of humanity’s finer traits. Your abilities to find light in darkness are always amusing,” She chuckled, “it’s fascinating. I rarely deal with humans. Most are greedy and thoughtless, so tiresome. They call on me to wage wars, move mountains, drain oceans, win love, all meaningless things. I simply can’t be bothered to notice them,” her eye rolled before fixing back on you, “you, however, are rather curious. You’re not nearly as arrogant as the others I’ve met.”
“I'm not?” you asked.
“So far,” She sniffed, “but time will tell. As of now, I am only sad that my son has kept so much of his life from you.”
You frowned, “What do you mean?”
“Had König never told you about how his brothers used to take him haunting in other realms? Did he tell you his favorite food is volcanic ash? Has he ever even mentioned how when he was just fifty-thousand years old he used to put imps in his mouth and spit them into my lungs to make me cough? He liked to play with the stars I’d spit out.”
You snorted as König grumbled around you, his tentacles writhing irritably.
“Mama,” he groaned, “please do not discuss my younger years so freely.”
“Oh but I must!” Her voice was delighted, “you must know that for an avatar, he was the sweetest little youngling I had. He was always clutching onto my tendrils when he went to sleep in my fur,” a long tentacle swept out of the void to play with one of König’s many taloned feet, “such a sweet little one!”
“Mama! I’m an adult now!” König whined and recoiled childishly.
“Oh, if I could show you what he looked like when he only had one cell! He was truly something special.”
König groaned and curled around you further to try and put a barrier between you and his mother, but to no avail.
“My, if I knew how delightful you were, human, I would’ve insisted on meeting you earlier! There is so much I need to tell you about.”
You grinned. You hadn’t expected much when meeting König’s mom, but you already knew she was your favourite god in the pantheon.
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Konig Dump
Alternate Universes
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finalfrontierpublishing · 2 years ago
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So it's been a while since i posted any books - mostly because i've been hiding my progress like a little sneak.
I just finished this bind last night of The Desert Storm by @blue-sunshine-mauve-morning, or really it's volume 1 out of like ??? 15, maybe. Please take whatever i say with a pinch of salt (I have had 0 sleep for more than 24 hours, and that tends to make me a little very sleep-deprivation drunk a.k.a. unhinged). Okay, on to thoughts! The Desert Storm was foisted onto me by @celestial-sphere-press who told me under no uncertain terms that I WOULD FUCKING LOVE THIS SHIT. Well, I did. This more than 1 million word epic about Ben Fuckin' Kenobi is pretty much god-tier fanfiction. It reads like a goddamn novel. I can never think of canon again without thinking that this good shit should be canon. I read it and then consumed half of it within a week, and I have zero regrets. @blue-sunshine-mauve-morning, i absolutely love you and love your writing. It is the best thing since sliced bread. It is better than sliced bread.
I also had the benefit of @celestial-sphere-press saying, hey would you want to use the typeset? MY GOD, i am grateful. I love this fic, i would have typeset it if it hadn't been typeset but Des did such a beautiful job that i am absolutely in awe and thankful that she and the author allowed others to use it. Look at it - it's so beautiful. I only had to think hey, i just gotta design the cover and et cetera and so the book happened.
Please also check out @celestial-sphere-press 's amazing post here and here, who is the only person i know who's started and is almost complete in fanbinding this epic, and is also making an author a copy of the entire series.
Some stats, if you will.
96215 words || 380 pages
Title font: Ghaomiec
I took some inspiration from starblight bindery's lovely desert scape as well as this amazing cover of Dune which i own. I love that the landscape emanates Dune vibes while being oh so Tattooine - just sand and heat, relentless loneliness and melancholy. This fic centres around Obi-Wan Infinite Sadness Kenobi so it needed SAD VIBES TM, which i tried to deliver in desolate landscape form.
Also thank the heavens for Renegade members, who in a masterful stroke of Group Buy Saves Money, managed to source extra-out-of-production colours of Colibri and help a fair number of us get really cool limited edition versions of bookcloth. I am now a proud owner of a lorge stash of Duo and Colibri of which i am now sitting on like a shifty dragon with a hoarding problem. Good luck getting your bookcloth now, Folio Society, ha ha (gloating)! This particular bookcloth is Colibri Copper which has been wholly stashed for The Desert Storm series. I am leaning on transitioning to Malachite for Rise and Fall when I get to it.
The front cover design was done with a stock image and converted to a PNG, which i then fiddled with and did some HTV magic with. It was remarkably easier to weed than expected. I tried something new and ironed the design on the naked bookcloth first before gluing it to the boards, which was a new challenge in making sure everything was aligned.
Endpapers are marbled endpapers (Renato Crepaldi) which I got from Hollanders, which perfectly fit the colour scheme of the bind. The only hiccup was as I was cutting, I realized the sheet was running in the opposite direction of his usual papers and half the size, and only yielded 3 A5 size endpapers and so my heart went noooooooooo. oh well. i guess i will use it for quartos.
Endbands are my favourite - silk in 3 colours in the french doublecore style (as i was binding this i did not have the mental capacity to handle the difficulty of 4 strands). the truth is i usually only can do 4 when I have higher brain function and am willing to spend 80% of my time unraveling it from getting tangled.
I also forgot to mention I had mild fuck-ups, I got glue on the front endpaper which I had to hastily remove with wet cloth, and the back square is preposterously bad but I'm ignoring it for now.
Anyway, i've actually managed to complete a few other binds which have not been mentioned here as they've all been gifts/ surprises or event books in some form. I am SO EXCITED, also because I am travelling in the latter half of July to San Diego and L.A. and I get to meet some bookbinding friends in the flesh. Renegade is fucking amazing y'all. I am ready to embrace these crazy lads who have enabled me for the last 1 year, even when i'm the solitary (1) weirdo from my country of origin in the server. Also... potentially bookbinding trip early next year??? I am enthused.
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monstrousmuse · 1 year ago
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*rubs hands together* Right. We're doing this.
or, My Very Serious Attempt At Analysing The Billentines.
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"BILL YOU GO OUT WITH ME?" - Gods, he's even worse than Stan. Jack of NO Trades, Master of PUN. (Not the actual intent here, but if you add a comma, it almost sounds like someone else is asking him out. In cute-sy speak. "Bill, you go out with me?!?! Pwease?")
"I'VE GOT MY ❤️EYE❤️ ON YOU" - Aww, his eye is so expressive. Also love the way he's just... sitting on the ground like that. His base is so thin, it's no wonder why he needs to prop himself up with his little noodle leg. Like a reverse kickstand.
"YOU'RE ACUTE-Y" - Bill torments his friends with terrible, nerdy geometry puns Confirmed. Stanford Filbrick Pines PhD x 12's dream partner amiright?
"I LIKE YOU FOR SOME REASON" - *apologetically glances towards Ford* What reason, Bill? You can confide in us. Or perhaps you don't know...
"LET'S GET ILLUMINAUGHTY" - HE REMOVED HIS BOWTIE WTF-I-I didn't even think that was possible. Welp, you learn something new every day. ...And, are those his cheeks? I’ve always assumed that his whole surface changes colour whenever he is feeling a particularly strong emotion. Huh.
"I'M BROKEN. WANNA FIX ME?" - ...now you're just mocking us. If this ends up spreading to the wider fandom- Oh. Oh dear. It already has. Well played, Hirsch. In all seriousness though, this one is surprisingly introspective of Bill. Has he been doing some postmortem soul-searching? Read a few self-help books? Perhaps Frills was the one who first suggested that he write his own book as a means of reaching a state of inner catharsis...Or maybe it’s just a reference to how Stan literally shattered his face before killing him.
"I DON'T WANT TO DIE ALONE" - See my previous post. Long story short, he stopped time for a reason. But. Also. He looks depressed. No offence, of course. (Is the floor comfortable? From data gathered during the period of my life that I spent as a Weird Human Child With Weird Human Quirks, I have come to the conclusion that the floor is not, in fact, the most comfortable of places to lie down and ponder one’s existence, but you do you I guess.)
"I SECRETLY COLLECTED YOUR SWEAT IN A JAR AND ACCORDING TO EXTENSIVE LAB TESTING. WE HAVE AN 88.3% PHEROMONE COMPATIBILITY MATCH" - Bill has pheromones. 88.3%...Is there a significance to this number? Does Bill Cipher even know, or care, about basic lab safety and scientific accuracy these days? The answer is a resounding “No. Definitely not. Absolutely not.”
"THEY CALL ME...THE LOVE TRIANGLE" - How To Become Besties With Mabel Pines In One (1) Quick & Easy Step. But you better watch out Bill, the Love God will probably be filing a lawsuit against you for Stealing His Look...and a minor case of Very Intentional And Blasphemous Blasphemy.
Whew. Done. Overanalysis is to me what Ichor is to the Greek Gods.
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ditizygirl · 8 months ago
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Editblr is a breeding ground for idolatry, ableism, racism and so much more all for a community about putting images together.
I've been here for only a year but I feel like I've seen it all, and the excuses oh my god the excuses. You are all 15-19, you should not have the mental capacity of a 8 year old. Your common sense is non existent and almost all of you guys are so fucking stupid it's pissing me off more than any god can understand. You are old enough to have logical thinking skills, you may have a disorder and it may be a reason but not an excuse.
Alot of you have forgotten the saying "Think Before You Talk" and I've sure as hell done alot of thinking. This is my deep dive into editblr.
Ableism
Typing quirks are a way of personal expression but why do so much of you hate to add plain text. I can understand to extent because plain text hates my head because of how long it can be but I'm not gonna act like a little bitch about it. I'm gonna add my typing quirk or even fonts itself to it.
I'm gonna ask someone to help me, or to do it for me. Stopping making excuses for ableism. Alongside with the typing quirks, your psds are ugly and eyestrainy. Psds also fall under racism because I have no idea why you guys are ignoring the fact some make dark skin characters lighter but in the case of ableism most of them are really bright and makes it hard to see.
Orange and brown? Green and yellow? Blue and brown? Why are you putting colours that can be so much eyesore together? And won't even tag as eyestrain and when someone does ask you only do it for one post.
Romanticization
This one is weird as fuck and I see no one mentioning it. Editblr highkey has a ddlg problem, this "little girl" aesthetic you guys have going on borderlines ddlg alot and its icky. The baby talk typing quirk is disgusting, stop it.
I'm not one to judge how someone copes with their trauma but what I DO judge is how you act when majority says its uncomfortable. Now this section I'm a bit unsure how to phrase it, gotta love dyslexia, but that isn't going to stop me.
There's alot of very uncomfortable romanticization of stalking which I've seen so much of alongside abusive relationships and the justification of these things.
Racism
Really can't escape this one unfortunately. Many of you are like kpop idols, you're too dyslexic towards the difference between appropriation and appreciation. Incase you forgot let me remind you.
You can not gift japanese names. Gifting names is a native practice therefore you can only gift native names. Also I've noticed you weirdos befriending people just to use their cultural names. I can't even say it east asian fetishization because its only Japanese.
Also for the love of God can you guys stop saying nonmem and non women especially when referring to sexualities. It's not hard to simply say "queer attraction to women" and "queer attraction to men".
Coming back to the "gifting" names thing, I think it's interesting how all of you conveniently have a Japanese friend who "gifted" you the name of a cute pink anime girl. Maybe I'll do a post later on how much of a bad liar you guys are.
Closed symbols is also another big problem you all have. No matter how much times you're told you can't use something you always cry "but my friend from xyz culture said it was ok!" One person can't speak for a whole culture. You're nothing but a coloinzer in disguise hiding behind the idea of aesthetic. If you want to know if a symbol is closed just use this site.
Goddess Personas
Yea this one is getting a whole section of its own. Like any people I am uncomfortable with goddess personas, especially being someone with biblical sources. Now the idea that a teenager on the internet is making people call them a goddess is strange isn't it?
In my opinion, they're all annoying, copy and paste, and I think not a lot of people talk about how the really bad ones get. You all love to indulge them, make them think they have power over them. You put them on a pedestal and praise them and get surprised when it all goes to their head?
Stop giving 14 years old power, stop indulging in their habits and letting it go their head. Forcing people to refer to you as their goddess? Their Lord and saviour? Their idol? Someone they must listen to? It creates a power inbalance which always leads to the weirdest of manipulation. Also all the engagekiss copiers are so obvious why would you want to copy the identity of a groomer? It says alot of about yourself if that's what you think is ideal.
Callout Posts
Now, personally, I believe that the only reason a callout post happens is because someone was affected, does it not? Very rarely would a callout post would be a fake one, especially if someone has more then one. If you defend someone who has more than one call out post that's on you and you're gonna end up making one some day I can genuine you that. People don't make them for no reason.
This is all I have to say for now. I hope you guys really consider what I have written here, or not, considering the fact you guys have shown multiple times you lack reading comprehension
@starriesse @dollicous @doveinne @firstgf @kiochisato @lamboll @cherryshh @narcbf @lavendergalactic @npditary @sprinkleoverdose @necroangelz @eskeys
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piyo13sdoodles · 3 months ago
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day 28, chapter 76:
At the expression on Quintus' face Cliopher could take no more. He started laughing before he made it out of the room, though the loudest whoops came after he'd reached the hallway. He did not get far along, just sank down at the top of the stairs so he could try to muffle his mirth with his hands. ~ "Your family seems somewhat perturbed," Rhodin observed after a few minutes.
and bonus gallery shot + musings under the cut because it's been exactly 4 weeks now:
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fun to see what kinds of patterns intentionally or unintentionally crop up... or also which days i can tell i was busy vs which days i had time or worked in advance to dedicate more time to the piece. if anyone's curious, on average one of these might take me 2-3 hours to complete! more detailed ones like october 23 i think probably took me closer to 5 hours, simpler ones like october 9 maybe 1.5h.
i am both sad and glad it's almost over--i've definitely lost a fair amount of sleep trying to get these done in time (usually i work a day ahead so i can post at a reasonable time, but that hasn't always worked out, especially in the final stretch here), so this pace does become untenable on top of work, but it also is really fun to make so much art! and to always have something to work on rather than becoming trapped into that idea of 'what should i do, too many choices, can't decide..' the answer is always inktober!
in any case, seeing the gallery like this is also interesting to me because it really helps me realize where i could have/should have pushed the ink a bit more--working in ink is (to me; this is definitely not gospel, just how i consider ink work) an exercise in controlling contrast. you don't have colour to drive edges or cool/warm tones, so the only value you have is the light-dark contrast, and in my mind at least, good use of contrast should carry across to a smaller format. for example, zoomed out like this i can see that october 11th really needed more contrast in the feathers--they blend too much into the background in a way that doesn't really work to emphasize that ludvic is standing in front of the candles there. otoh, on october 5, i think that one's fine because what i wanted was for the moon to draw the eye first, and THEN for you to notice HR sitting there.
overall, also, i want to keep these interesting--if the compositions are always the same, then it can become repetitive or boring, so i wanted a good mix of light and dark compositions, and a good balance of tone across all of them. which so far i'm pleased with! and this year i let myself use pencil undersketches and do thumbnail planning and everything (last year i really wanted to get better at visualizing the piece in my head so i set the challenge of just committing straight to paper... i'm still happy with last year's but you can tell i took on much more challenging compositions this year lol)
anyway!! much to think about, so much to learn, i wanted to work a bit in advance again so i won't be putting tomorrow's up almost at midnight again but alas i think it was not meant to be, so i'm off to bed and if you read this whole thing, congrats, have a cookie *hands you a cookie*
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arcadia-of-pluto · 22 days ago
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So...how would you guys feel if I said I had a Caleb one-shot brewing? If I write a lot of it today, I might post an excerpt just to get yall lolking forward to it! 🤔
It's going to have a good bit of angst in it at first and I even have a nice playlist to go with it (I've never done a playlist before so I'll probably just link the songs on YouTube tbh). But I've written character sheets, I have the name of the one-shot, I have the ideas I want in it, it could possibly be more than one part — now I need to work on the backstory for before the story starts, then work on the story itself and the banner.
There's not much i can say about it, but i am writing kinda based on what we saw in his trailers and based on my own theories so of course, none of this will be 100% to what'll eventually happen in game! And there might be smut, it may be poorly written though since I've lost my touch when it comes to writing smut 🤔
I'll give the vibes for the one-shot though, so I'm not just posting this with nothing to show!
So the main premise is that there's no isekai, the reader is literally the mc. This is only a Caleb x reader, so while the other love interests will clearly like her, they won't actively pursue her. It's set in a slightly alternative universe where the reader is still grieving the loss of Grandma and Caleb. She still hasn't gotten over it and it's been almost a year since they passed on. So it'll be set in 2049 while the main game was originally set in 2048.
So everyone will be a year older (mc is 23, Caleb is 26, rafayel is 25, Zayne is 28, Sylus is 29, and Xavier (who I've decided to be about 25) is 26.
^ also i ran out of colours on mobile since i use green as Ot4/Ot5, so Caleb will just be bolded purple.
Anyways, the reader is depressed, always reliving that day in her dreams, and seeing ghosts of Caleb whenever she's out and about. She thinks the accident was somehow her fault and that she could've saved them, even though deep down she knows she couldn't.
Now this won't stay angst-y, since we all know Caleb is truly alive but that's all I can say so far! I'm still working on it right now though, so things are always subject to change. 🩷
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damnfandomproblems · 4 months ago
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Posting a compilation of responses to Fandom Problem #6020.
Anon:
If you want representation, create your own story Fandom is not activism
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Anon:
Except you people almost never racebend white characters. You racebend other minorities. You racebend anime characters with Japanese names who live in Japan and speak Japanese and have their whole family live in Japan with Japanese names and speak Japanese and claim that the original character was "white." You take characters who are half-black, half-white and say they "aren't black enough" and make them completely black, racebending the white parent ONLY for the sake of racebending their kid. You racebend half-black, half-Asian characters for the same reason, they "aren't black enough." The overwhelming majority of people who complain about racebending don't care about a character's race, they're pointing out YOU'RE ALMOST EXCLUSIVELY DOING THIS TO CHARACTERS WHO ARE OTHER MINORITIES, WHO DESERVE REPRESENTATION TOO, WHILE SLAPPING IRL PEOPLE WHO MATCH THE DESCRIPTION OF THE ORIGINAL CHARACTER IN THE FACE!!!!!!!!!
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Anon:
I am pretty sure that modern fandom was not created specifically by POC. It was created by majorly women who were really into Star Track, completely unrelated to any skin colour any of them might have had
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Anon:
“BLACKWASHING IS DONE WITH RESPECT AND LOVE FOR A CHARACTER AND THEIR FANDOM.” No, it’s done out of hatred of white people. If you really loved this character, you’d love him or her as a white person. If you can’t love a white character, you are racist.
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Anon:
Re: every single moronic anon screaming "BlAcKwAsHiNg IsN't ReAl YoU'rE jUsT rAcIsT, aNyOnE wHo SaYs AnYtHiNg BaD aBoUt RaCeSwApS oF bLaCk ChArAcTeRs Is RaCiSt! RaCiSt!! RaCiSt!!!": On twitter right now people are throwing a fit over official splatoon art of Marina having a slightly lighter shade of brown than normal. Again. AGAIN. AGAIN!! Miss me with this fucking bullshit! You clowns have said this for a decade now and EVERYONE can see right through you! Every time some artist draws a brown character one hexcode lighter because GOD FORBID ANY OF YOU ACKNOWLEDGE THAT LIGHTING EXISTS OR THAT MAYBE PEOPLE WANT TO EXPERIMENT WITH DIFFERENT SHADES, there's a goddamn TIDAL WAVE of THE STUPIDEST, MOST HATEFUL PEOPLE YOU'LL EVER MEET screaming MUH RACISM at the top of their lungs. Harassing artists minding their own goddamn business (ESPECIALLY if they're from Japan!). Smugly taking the art and darkening with that utterly insufferable "Heh, I fixed it :)))" passive-aggressive attitude. Don't you sit there and fucking lie to me, you little shit. I've been on this hellsite since 2012. I've seen every single one of these """whitewashing""" controversies you neanderthals start and every single one of them has accomplished nothing except drive people away, piss them off, or inspired them to make ACTUAL Whitewashed art to show you what Whitewashing actually looks like and also to MOCK YOU. This is not pissing on my leg and telling me it's rain, this is grabbing ten of your buddies, telling them chug a gallon of water, circle around me, whip out your cocks, shower me in gold and then casually mock me for not taking an umbrella because "oh man it's so stormy out :)" Also Japanese twitter has had enough of your shit and they're criticizing you for acting this way and then shamelessly redrawing their characters as being black and acting like that's how they're """supposed""" to be because Asians just aren't """POC""" enough for you. Don't ever call anyone a "Colonizer" again, because that kind of shit is GENUINE Colonizer mindset because you self-righteous shitheads disrespect other cultures and can't leave people the fuck alone. THAT is why people get mad at you. It's not racism. It's NEVER been racism; it's because you're all insufferable twits who harass everyone around you over NOTHING and then have the GALL to be FLAGRANT HYPOCRITES ABOUT IT with an obvious double standard! Build a bridge and get the FUCK over yourselves!
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(Mod note: I'm unsure if this was intended as an independent submission or a response to the same problem, I'm assuming it's a response due to the timing and am posting as such.)
Anon:
One thing I find EXTREMELY odd about a fandom I am in surrounding an anime I like is the racewashing/blackwashing art, now I'm not gonna get into my opinions on racewashing because wether you support it or not you have to admit what I'm about to say seems really dodgy In this anime there are multiple main characters of mixed race, majority of them being half european half japanese, I'm not sure how much representation of mixed people there are in anime but I can only really think of 3 anime where there are main mixed race characters, most of them only having 1 or 2 mixed race characters, but the anime I am talking about has about 4 mixed race main characters For some reason this fandom absolutely loves to racewash these mixed race characters and barely does it to any other characters. They always make them fully black (not even blasian) and they say they do it to add "more black representation" to the anime Now there are many reasons I find this dodgy, 1 being that of course they only ever do this with the mixed race characters, (or at the very least these are the most popular characters to do this to) not the fully asian characters, not the fully white characters, not to any character of any other race/ethnicity, not even the non human characters who don't have a canonical race/ethnicity, only the mixed race characters Apparently a lot of other fanbases with half white half japanese main characters have these problems too, and a lot of real life mixed people say that the people who only ever racewash mixed characters imply that these characters are "too white for them", which is of course a very racist thing to say about mixed race people who are half white Another reason I find this odd is that, A. A lot of the anime is set in Japan, so of course a lot of the characters will be Japanese or half Japanese, and I'm not saying that there aren't black people in Japan, but obviously majority of the people who live in Japan are Japanese B. There are black characters in the anime! Main characters too, now I can't speak on how good the representation is as I'm not black, but from what I can tell a lot of black people love this anime and the black characters (not to mention a lot of the people I see who racewash the mixed characters are not black, most I see are white people) so I don't see the need to add more representation to the anime by racewashing non black characters, let alone racewashing the mixed race characters who also seem to have a small amount of representation in anime. Like at the very least if someone wanted to race swap a character they'd do it with one of the many white characters and not the mixed race characters, or at the very very least they'd make the mixed race characters blasian and not fully black, or draw the non human characters who don't have canonical races as humans and make them black or any race they want, like I don't get why they're so obsessed with making mixed half white half asian people fully black In conclusion: this whole thing just confuses me and gives off extremely dodgy and racist vibes
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serctcnia · 1 year ago
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To Be Soft
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Content: Angst | Alcohol use | AFAB tiefling reader | She/they pronouns
Word Count: 686
A/N: I finally got around to writing this based on the prompt I wrote in December! It's also not fully fleshed out but I wanted to post it anyway because Rolan <3. Gonna just say it's writing practice.
"Come to gawk, have you? The great Rolan besotted and wallowing in his self-pity." He sat his tankard down, wine sloshing out onto the counter and his robes. "Hells!" 
She sat on the stool beside him and reached for a rag on the counter in front of her. It was damp enough to possibly get the stain out without using prestidigitation so she handed it to him. "I've not come to gawk, I've come because I'm worried about you. You've done nothing but drink and yell at the children."
Taking the rag, he dabbed at the red splotch lazily until the rag was stained red. A groan of agitation fell from his lips as he realised it was useless to try to get it out. He tossed it back across the counter and looked at the woman beside him. "Don't you start too, ___. The hero has already tried to 'make me feel better,'" He rolled his eyes, pulling a half-empty bottle of wine toward him. "My entire family is missing because of our involvement at the grove, taken to gods knows where, so I believe I will sit here and drink." 
Scooting her stool closer to his, she put her hand atop his to gently pull the bottle toward her. "I know they are, Rolan, I’m sorry. But drinking isn’t going to make them come back any quicker. It’s only going to give you a migraine in the morning.” Rolan spread his fingers across the length of the glass, allowing her fingers to slip between his. His face grew red, then he felt a swell of anger. "They were - are - my responsibility and I will do everything in my power to retrieve them from - from wherever they are. If you had used an inkling of the power you have to fight their captors, Cal and Lia may be sitting here with us. Pardon me if I don’t take advice from a washed-up sorceress such as yourself."
He jerked the bottle from her, almost topping her from her seat, and brought it to his mouth. The more he drank, the more it began to sour on his lips. Fuck. He thought. Maybe she was right. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t do more, I really am. I should have fought harder.” She said as she moved her seat back. “But I miss them too, you know? I know how it is to lose your family so I thought we could talk as friends.”
He drank her in as she spoke. The curvature of her horns, the colour of her eyes in the candlelight, the small imperfections of her face, and the frown that curled on her lips. A frown he had caused. He was in the presence of a goddess, yet he spoke ill of her to her face. 
“Is that what we are? Friends?” 
“What? Of course we’re friends.”
Sliding the empty wine bottle to the side, he cast his gaze to the countertop. “That’s not what I want.” He wanted more. He wanted to be able to cry upon her shoulder, feel the softness of her lips against his temple as wept. He wanted her.
Her tail drooped, the end beginning to curl around her ankle. "Oh,” She paused, attempting to mask the hurt in her voice. “Very well. I’ll leave you be then, but please drink something other than wine. If you want to - nevermind. I’ll be in my room.”
As she stood to leave, she felt an unfamiliar sensation. Rolan had unravelled her tail from her ankle and began snaking his around her own. When their tails could no longer intertwine, he tugged her closer toward him with soft, almost imperceivable, purrs. Now standing at his hip, the tip of his tail brushed against hers in small circles, then up and down. 
"Don't go," He slurred. "Please." 
Despite her rapidly beating heart, she sat down and began to mimic the motions of his tail. Small circles, hearts, up and down, repeat. She could tell it was getting to him as she watched the lines of his eyes soften. 
“I’m not going anywhere.” 
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craziestfangirl98 · 2 months ago
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It's been three episodes of The Heart Killers and we are getting into the story almost like quicksand. Slowly and then in too deep where we wouldn't even know how we reached there.
I guess it makes sense. I am liking how it is going so far. I love that around everything there is an under current of choices and what is in your capacity to change that is a big part of the story. I think it gives an interesting dimension to a story about questionable people (assassins, thieves, and (1) chaotic gremlin who probably has not revealed his true colours (immediately also thinking of @respectthepetty 's post on colours circa ep 3 just now)) doing questionable things (killing, maiming, drunk driving/texting and driving, crossing boundaries, drugging and questionable sex under the influence of alcohol). All the things each of them have done, within the context of the larger scheme of things sometimes feel like they come from a place of helplessness, some are character choices made with no thought about consequences but all in all, everyone of them so far has made awful choices on many occasions. But what makes it interesting for me is that these actions haven't been shown with a morality construct as such. Maybe it will come later on (I hope not) maybe it won't, either way, it becomes a point to note I think.
Another big big point it has made me question. To what extent are they gonna weaponise attraction. To what extent are they willing to use their body to get where they know the results for what they are hoping can be found. Once again, I don't mean it in a 'they need to be policed way'. Rather, the transactional nature of sex, attraction and lust (maybe love as well?) is extremely indicative of the power that it holds in deception and assumptions so far, and I find it extremely significant to the story. I know the running gag around the fact that it's a high heat bl from GMMTV that's been discussed so far. I've seen the discourse around whether or not it has a meaningful story or it is just a high heat series that sells sex without a story. I firmly land in the corner that says, the story lies, very integrally in the high heat scenes of the series so far. It portrays excellent commentary on what is lacking and why none of them are in a relationship currently or can be unless huge plot points around communication, honesty, trust, power, and truth get sorted out. All of the things that are necessary in a relationship. As far as I remember, the Taming of the Shrew, discusses or touches upon these elements implicitly or explicitly. I might not be exactly right here, it's been about a decade since I've read it.
All this to say, Heart Killers so far is a story that as it stands currently, pertains to power, control and the navigation and negotiation of that, when everyone is trying to be in control (in whatever way they want to.) As much as its sex scenes have so far been extremely dubious and questionable in nature, they are there to support the story. Love has not even entered the equation for these boys and it's probably going to take some time for the same. The only way to reach there is a complete surrender of power from all sides, which might or might not be detrimental to the characters. Something that is up to how things actually pan out and what we end up getting.
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reginalusus · 10 months ago
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I don't know if this has been asked before but what are your headcanons for Harvey and two-face? Wholesome and not so wholesome 🔞 lol
Anything they have in common, for example are they both super organized/need things a certain way? Different love languages?
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Oh, boy, do I...
By the way, I ramble a lot...
So this is gonna be long post.
It's just a thing with me. Only super-cool people relate. /j
I also tend to base *some* headcanons on what is already canon, or blend them in some way, so some of this might be old news.
Oh, and I'll put a cut before the suggestive ones just so people who don't want to see that sort of stuff can safely scroll by.
EDIT: The cut does not seem to be working because Tumblr hates me so, um, WARNING FOR SUGGESTIVE STUFF.
He's 6'5". His height has fluctuated in his appearances, but I much prefer when he's taller than Bruce, such as in Telltale and BTAS. BuT a DisTRIct AtTornEY dOesN't NeE- lalalalalala, I don't careeeeeee. I like the image of him being physically imposing, not just for villainous purposes, but also to juxtapose how much of a sweetheart he is, or was. There is also another reason.
He stims with his coin. Months back I talked in length about how I think Harvey might view his coin as a way to reclaim his abuse against his father, but I also see him using it as a comfort item, as sick as it may be (considering its past), and that the constant twirling and flipping is a way for him to stim.
He loves 50s/60s music. Namely the likes of Elvis Presley, Frank Sinatra, Sam Cooke, Lesley Gore, Dean Martin, Roy Orbinson...
He sings! I know this is kind of canon, but that MF can sing. His Harvey voice is smooth and articulate, very vintage, meanwhile Two-Face's is, of course, raspier and almost more of a rocker's voice.
Two-Face names his guns. I've drawn some of these before, but Harvey doesn't bother with such nonsense. Harvey views weapons as a last resort; their mere existence throws justice into question. Why can someone wield such a thing that sets the odds in their favour immediately? But Two-Face knows they get the job done quickly. They're like the broom of Gotham; a quick way to be rid of the scum. So he names them, for they are beloved, much like how legendary weapons have been named in the past for what they have slain.
He dissociates/has derealization episodes. Yes, he has DID, and dissociation is in the name, but during really intense symptoms, such as his depression, paranoia and personalities all practically screaming in his head, he ends up having a bad derealization episode, much like how you would see someone have after they suffer a panic attack. His coin helps ground him.
He has definitely done that fucking pottery scene from Ghost with Gilda while she's sculpting. You know the one.
He's an elegant shooter but a brutish fighter. Not only is he a God with guns, he's also precise and elegant. But with physical combat? Brutal, much like a street fighter. I suppose both Batman and Deathstroke's training gets muddled in some ways...
His henchmen give him gifts now and then. They just do, and he doesn't understand it. Silly stuff, like bi-coloured mugs or shirts. Perhaps to keep his short-temperedness at some sort of bay. Doesn't work half the time, however.
He takes depression naps. Because of course he does. Having mental health issues is also physically taxing. I imagine he sleeps a lot, but also struggles to sleep at the same time because everything is so damn loud in his head.
He's bisexual. Gotta love both. Harvey has a preference for women, Two-Face has a preference for men.
Fussy with his suits and clothes. In The Judas Coin, we see Harvey's kind of a suit-nerd. Enough said. That MF loves to look good. Harvey loves stuff that's timeless and classic, very reminiscent of 40s/50s mafia wear, while Two-Face loves gaudy, striking stuff. They have to compromise, hence the split suits in the first place.
He doesn't like himself very much but just puts up with it. He's a walking contradiction, a hypocrite to himself. He claims to uphold the law but also bastardizes it. Also, he avoids mirrors and reflections if possible (that was something that was mentioned in his older issues, but they never brought it back, I don't think). He's smashed a mirror before, or two, or three.
He's a hopeless romantic. I've talked a little about this before, but he crushes hard, falls harder, and ever since being widowed, he pines for validation but seldom receives such because of his reputation.
He's a vintage lighter collector. He's got those S.T. Duponts and those 1970 electric Ronson's, I just know it.
Harvey constantly makes courtroom puns. Nobody laughs except Gilda.
He's an embarrassing dancer. He loves singing older tunes, but when it comes to dancing, he loves those cheesy 80 tunes. Get him drunk enough and he'll kill the dancefloor... with second-hand embarrassment.
So, I also have a lot of thoughts about The Judge too, but they're very scattershot and I'd rather compile them at another time, plus this post doesn't need to be any longer than what it is, lmao.
I also have more HCs around what he'd be like with the Batkids and Bruce, but again, this post is already long.
Ok, suggestive stuff now, and I'm going to kick it off with a hot take:
Harvey and Two-Face are monogamous. A really popular HC I've seen for Harvey is that he loves having multiple partners - two partners, of course, for each side of him. Well... I DISAGREE. /lh Personally, I think he prefers the one. He likes to purely focus on that one person and treat them like they're the only person that exists, in hope they'll do the same for him. To make him feel like he's whole; that, for once, he's not split.
Two-Face is protective and jealous. If you're out with him and he sees someone eyeing you up, out come the knuckle dusters.
He's dominant. And rough. But he'll always ask what you want; do you want to be praised or degraded while he's using you?
The coin can be fun. Sometimes he gets extremely impassioned and heated, and he just doesn't know what to do with his partner next. Good thing he has an item that helps him decide. The ambiguity of which side will turn up can add to the excitement!
Scar worship makes him melt. It just does. He hates that side of him, but seeing someone stroke or caress his scars, telling him how handsome he looks, that's a sure-fire way to send him over the edge. He'll probably fall in love.
Harvey shows love through words and actions, Two-Face shows it through gifts. Harvey will reassure his partner through words and keeping those words upheld. Meanwhile, Two-Face will corrupt his partners with gifts.
Two-Face is a bit clingy. He'll text a lot, call a lot, ask where his partner is, how they are, if they're ok. Harvey is more relaxed.
Aftercare King. He knows how strong he is and how violent (for lack of a better word) he can be. So he'll always check in with his partner to make sure they're fine.
Harvey is vocal and sappy, Two-Face isn't. Not just during the act, but afterwards. Harvey will want to cuddle, he'll want to talk over a cigarette, he wants to get to know his partner on a deeper level. Two-Face generally needs some room first. He might be a bit cold, but he'll come around.
Again, I have more in this regard, but that's what AO3 is for!
Oh, also, I saw your ask about Gerard Butler and his doggo... I agree, hehe, maybe Harvey can walk Dick's dog at some point, lol.
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