#look at my lop posts boy

[taffywabbit]

beautiful women with cute names like "google" and "pay pal" keep sliding into my email inbox to tell me about their updated terms of service

#buny text #look at my lop posts boy #jokes aside btw i have been getting these fuuuuucking emails from these two websites every 2 days lately istg #what do they WANT from me. do they actually check if i have reviewed their TOS changes or something

[nefelibatah]

trans: "Rest now, (my) love, don't be afraid, to feel your own sadness, breathe."

hello again lies of p tumblrr!!!

i've come back to drop this sketch i made of p thats based on a song i like

yeah thats all lol ty

#lies of p #lies of p fanart #lop #lies of p pinocchio #lies of p game #liesofp #Spotify #oh my god it took me like 20 minutes to figure out how to put a photo and a spotify song on the same post #neowiz give the poor boy some well deserved rest damn 😭😭😭 #i also havent drawn p in a while so im sorry if he looks a tad bit goofy 💔

[nose-coffee]

this fucking sucks i need to get rid of these tits

#fuck off lou #my post #vent #kind of? im not like angry or anything. just having Regular Body Dysphoria you get me #i can't take it any more #seriously i'm at my limit #look the fact is that i feel awesome about my body the second i am confined within a sports bra #but sports bras have time limits for me #so my only option is to lop the bad boys off #circumvent the looming genetically predetermined breast cancer as well as a fun bonus #while we're at it take the ute out too. don't need it nor want it and it bleeds too much so just throw it out #am i trans? does this make me trans?? #idk im just kinda dysphoric abt my chest ig #going thru it today

[rumils]

misc old wyra’li pics before i fantasia him for his official ew look....

#ffxiv posting #my boy ur so cute now but i need u to look older #u have been thru some stuff #also rip lop ears i love them but i want to use other hair

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Immortal Beloved - Chapter One.

Oh guys, when I tell you I was touched beyond words at how this was received by you all. I have been sitting here squeaking with joy at your lovely reviews! If I have missed anybody out in my thank you notes, please take my humble apology and know that I appreciate you so much for taking the time to both read and offer feedback.

Okay, so on with the first chapter, then. You'll notice here that my imagination weaves with canon to make some slight changes, such as giving the boy's (and Ada's) mother a name, also I wrote John only to have one child with his late wife. It made sense to me, not having to pull focus from the plot too much by having to characterise four little ones on top of everything else.

So yes, here we are, then. I think I'm going to choose Thursday as our update day and keep it to once a week posting. Those who know me of old know that I often like to throw in a little surprise update sometimes, though! Once again, thank you so much for the feedback, and I truly hope you continue to enjoy it :)

Previous chapters - Prologue

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 4,057

Warnings - Adult themes + vampire content throughout. Minors DNI!

“John?”  

He was still in a daze as he entered the back room, seeing Polly lift her gaze from the paper she read in front of the crackling hearth, her dark eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re bloody white as a sheet. If you’re about to be sick, go back outside. I’ve neither the desire nor patience for mopping up the contents of your stomach.”  

“Nah, I’m... I’m alright, Pol,” he began, his voice just as vacant as the expression upon his face, the toothpick between his lips practically dangling.  

She wasn’t convinced by his statement, placing the paper upon the arm of the chair and rising to her feet. “John, you look like you’ve seen a ghost, and you...” She sniffed his breath, her mouth down turning as she scoffed, “and you stink like a brewery floor. What did Tommy say, eh, about getting in this state. Look at you!”  

Her admonishment barely even landed; John still in a state of shock at what he’d witnessed, his eyes flitting to the table. Whiskey. Yes.  

Polly’s gaze followed. “No. There’ll be no more of that. You’ve had enough.”  

Finally, he moved, side stepping his aunt as he reached for the bottle, uncorking it rapidly and drinking from it directly. “Believe me, Pol. After what I just saw, all the fucking whiskey in Ireland ain’t enough.”  

She folded her arms, watching as he crashed down in the chair opposite the one she’d been comfortably sitting in. “Well, you don’t look hurt. Whatever it was, it can’t have been that bad.” 

“Not for me, but...” he began, taking another swig of the golden liquid within his grasp, wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve as his eyes found hers, “for the fella outside missing his head, I can’t say the same.”  

“You bloody what, John Shelby?” Her voice rose like a siren, Polly’s authoritative boom filling the space. “A Rasmussen, I take it? And since when have you been in the habit of lopping off heads and leaving the evidence all over the bloody street? Holy shit, you boys will be the death of me!”  

She then studied him a little closer. No blood. He'd have been covered in more than just a fine misting of crimson, should he have removed somebody of their head. It also wasn’t John’s style, as far as despatching of an enemy went. He was a gangster, not a barbarian. She wouldn’t have even pegged his elder brothers for such acts, and their bloodlust far exceeded John’s. Her statement was about to be recanted when her nephew offered his reply.  

“No, not me. I didn’t do fuck all!” he corrected, gulping back more whiskey, the shock starting to soften as his muscles began to unclench, one by one. “It weren’t me, but you wouldn’t believe me if I told you what I’ve just seen out there.”  

“Is that so?” she charged, moving swiftly to stand beside his chair. “Try me.”  

He pointed his index finger towards the door, his eyes rounding once more as he relived it in his mind. “A woman, a fucking woman in a white dress, covered in blood, moving faster than I could see. She fucking... grabbed this fella, right, like he was a kiddie’s doll, bit into his neck, and then ripped his fucking head off. I ain’t lying to ya. I swear on my soul, that’s what I saw. She had these teeth, teeth like a fucking wolf.” 

Polly lifted her chin, a wave of cold dread sloshing through her insides. She knew exactly what John had seen, but could scarcely believe it. They were back. “You’re drunk. Go to bed.”  

His eyes narrowed, leaning forward in his seat. Her answer, it had been a little too swiftly delivered. “You believe me, don’t you? You know what she was.” 

“I said go to bed.” 

“I ain’t going nowhere until you tell me what the fuck that thing outside was.” Yes, Polly could be firm, but so could her nephew. It was a trait that ran strongly through the Shelby blood. She sighed, her shoulders dropping, striding to the cabinet and fetching two glasses.  

“Pour.” John met her instruction wordlessly, tipping the whiskey into the glasses she held, taking the other from her. Polly sank into her seat, sipping her whiskey and pulling a cigarette from the case beside her, lighting up. “Your great-grandmother used to call them the shadow walkers, but it’s only since that Bram Stoker fellow wrote his novel that there’s been a commonly known name for them. That woman you saw, John, she wasn’t human. She was a vampire.”  

John was baffled, and his face showed it. “But they ain’t real. I’ve heard of that book you’re on about, Dracula, isn’t it? They... they’re fiction.” 

A light snort sounded from Polly’s nose, her cigarette glowing as she took a fierce drag upon it. “Most people think that they are. They think of them as nothing more than monsters of make-believe, dreamed into existence by the imagination of a brilliant novelist.” Pausing, she smirked darkly, sighing through her nose. “I wish to god above I was one of those people. They keep themselves very well hidden, the vampires. And who would believe it, that these blood sucking creatures of the night truly exist, eh? Seeing is believing, though, and by god, John. I wish you hadn’t seen her. Those things, they’re evil incarnate.” 

“She saved me life,” he admitted, eyebrows rising a fraction. “That man, and apparently three mates of his, they were all waiting for me. The one missing his head was Samuel Rasmussen. She knew him by name.”  

Polly cocked her head slightly. “What did she say to you?”  

“Not much,” he sniffed, sipping his drink. “Said what I’ve just told you, then said my blood smelled like earth and fire, other things an’ all but I forget what. Oh, and that I was the most beautiful creature she’d seen in a long time.” 

She smiled, nodding slightly. “Well, she got that part right. You take after your mother in that respect.” It never ceased to amaze her, just how much John resembled Thora, her late sister-in-law. His blue eyes, lily skin and auburn hair came straight from her. “I’m warning you now, though. What she did for you won’t have been out of sheer magnanimity, oh no. There’ll be a reason behind it, and whatever that reason is, I am telling you, John, you’ll want for no part in it.” 

He smirked, feeling a little more himself. “What if the reason is that she just wants to fuck me?” 

Immediately, he found his ear clipped. “Fucking hell, Pol!” 

“Take something seriously for once in your fucking life!” 

He rubbed the side of his head, chewing aggressively on his toothpick. “I bloody am.” 

Her snort dripped in sarcasm “Like fuck, you are. You’d want throwing right into the loony bin if you even contemplated that, you bloody daft boy!” She remained forward in her seat, her dark eyes fixing him in an unbreakable stare. “Don’t trust her, not even for a second, or it’ll be your head ripped off your shoulders and left out for the coppers to find next. You hear me?” 

“You make it sound like I’m going to see her again,” he mused, swirling the whiskey around within the glass tumbler before sinking it.  

“You will,” she assured, her tone bitter. “You will see her again, because like I said, they don’t do anything without good reason to, those creatures. But you’ll be prepared. Carry a silver knife and get up to the church sharpish, fill a little bottle with holy water from the font. When weaponised, silver will kill her and the water will burn. And whatever you do, John, never, ever invite her into this house. She can’t get in unless she’s invited.”  

He had to wonder how, exactly, Polly had such a wealth of knowledge over them. “Have you ever met one before? You talk like you know them of old.” 

“No, thank god, but your great-grandmother Boswell, she had. Those campfire stories she told us as babes, we knew they weren’t fibs. We heeded her warnings. They’re drawn to gypsy blood, you see, something about it being palatable.” 

“She didn’t bite me, though,” John reasoned, Polly scoffing lightly. 

“If she’d just taken out four other fellas, she probably wasn’t hungry. That’s what they need to survive, the blood of the living. Trust me, she’ll be back, but you’ll be prepared. Stab her in her cold, dead heart and forget you ever met her. Don’t even think twice about it. We’ve got enough to be reckoning with, what with these fucking Rasmussen’s and the pile of shit they’re throwing our way. I don’t need the worry that you’re being stalked by the bloody undead on top of that.”  

“Why didn’t you mention any of this to us before?” 

Sinking her drink, she cleared her throat, reaching for the bottle. “And have you think I’d gone loopy?” Her snorted words brought a smile to John, Polly continuing. “We just don’t speak of them any longer. They’re rare, not an everyday threat. I’ve never heard hide nor hair of them since hearing nana’s stories, since I was just a young girl.”  

As the lie fell from her lips, Polly felt conflicted. She had to protect him, though. Keep the details scant. Besides, he was too drunk to take on anything else. Indeed, there was more she could have explained. She decided against it, clamping her lips between her teeth for a moment. 

“Hang on,” he spoke, frowning a little. “What did you mean, when you said undead?” 

“They aren’t alive anymore, John.” She paused, picking a little fleck of tobacco from her lip. “They walk and talk, but they’re not really living. Something about how they’re made, I don’t know the details, but yes. Undead. An enchanted corpse, basically.” 

“I dunno about enchanted, but she was enchanting,” he began, the corner of his mouth upturning. “She was bloody beautiful.” His face further softened as he remembered that feeling of magic lingering in the air between he and her, the pull to her, her essence shining like the brightest star within a pitch-black sky.  

“John, no. Absolutely fucking not.” Her pointed finger only momentarily wiped the growing smirk from his handsome features. “I mean it, do not even consider a fucking dalliance with a bloody vampire!”  

He shrugged slightly. “I’ve took worse to bed.” 

“John!” Her acerbic bite of his name had him in soft fits, the whiskey seeming to do the trick in placating the fear he’d felt at the time, now he was no longer in peril. “Your fucking face when you walked in here not ten minutes ago, looking like you’d seen a ghost. I was surprised your trousers were still dry, you looked that afraid!” 

“Bloody hell, Pol. I was only pulling your leg,” he laughed, rising from his seat. “Don’t worry, I ain’t stupid. I’m going to bed. Maybe all of this is just a drunken dream, I dunno.” Suddenly, her foot shot out, kicking him in the shin. “Ow, what the fuck?” 

“Did that feel like a dream to you?” 

“No, it feels like it’s gonna be a whacking great bruise on me leg!” 

She smirked, entertained at herself. “Good, might have knocked a bit of sense into you. Goodnight, love.” 

“Yeah, night, Pol.” 

He departed for the stairs, ambling up quietly so as not to wake Finn, entering his room and shivering upon the removal of his coat. His stripping of clothes into long johns and a vest was done at speed, diving under the bed covers and burrowing beneath the many woollen blankets. He hated that his room was the farthest from the chimney breast, meaning the heat didn’t ever reach the room where he could see his breath clouding through the darkness, it was so bitterly chilly.  

The knocking through of the three houses that allowed for their once illegal bookmaking endeavours to be run from the Watery Lane properties meant one large communal home, Tommy and Arthur’s abodes flanking the three, John remaining within the house he’d been born in twenty-eight years previously. It was the home he and his late wife had lived in, before he’d sadly lost her four years previously. 

Closing his eyes, he felt the pull of sleep tug at him, drifting off into dreamless slumber, awoken the following morning by the sound of the milkman’s cart doing the morning deliveries. Oh, his head. He needed tea and jam slathered toast, and quickly. Heading downstairs, he warmed enough water to have a wash and shave, combing his hair and returning to pull on a suit, opening the front door to take the milk in off the front step.  

“Morning, Mr Shelby.” 

“Morning, Jack,” he called back to the milkman, his cart paused, John turning to see a throng of people gathered a little further down the lane. “What’s all that about?”  

“Some kids found a headless body down by number six, so I’ve been told. The bobbies are on their way. Shocking business for a Wednesday morning, I can tell you!”  

John’s heart skipped on a beat as the night before rushed back over his neurons. He truly hadn’t been dreaming. “Blimey,” he began, feigning something as close to shock as he could, craning his neck a little further, able to make out the figures of his elder brother’s there surveying the scene, the local constabulary appearing right at the bottom of the lane. “Wonder how he ended up headless?”  

Jack lit a cigarette, his chest tightening as he coughed. “Might be best not to know, eh?” He paused, John seeing it, the unspoken statement there upon the milkman’s face. Grim discoveries close to a Shelby dwelling. Of course, he suspected it had something to do with him or his brothers, but Jack was much too cautious to speak it. Their reputation preceded them, after all.  

“I’ll be moving along now, Mr Shelby.” He flicked the reins, clicking his tongue. “C’mon, Beamish. Walk on.” The giant, bay shire horse snorted before continuing to the next house, Jack’s lad jumping off the back of the cart to lay the required bottles next to each door, both getting a good look at the grizzly scene as they passed it by, Tommy and Arthur having a brief chat with Sergeant Moss before walking back to meet John on the doorstep.  

The former cocked his head back in the direction of the small crowd. “Know anything about that, John? How one of our adversaries came to be missing his head almost right outside our front doors?” He’d recognised Samuel’s face as it lay wide-eyed upon the cobbles ten feet from his body, remembering him from the race meet. 

Tommy watched as his younger brother stepped back into the house, his mouth thinning. “I think we need a family meeting.” With the elders of the Shelby family assembled, cups of tea poured and cigarettes lit, John recounted the events of the night before to his brother’s, Polly interjecting with details that backed up his story. Tommy listened passively, but Arthur, well... 

His gruff laughter sounded through the air, sweeping a hand through his hair. His laughter was not mocking, though. It carried with it all the hollowness of fear. “A bloody what?”  

“Arthur, you know he’s telling the truth,” Polly stated defiantly, her eldest nephew still laughing, laughing to stop himself beginning to shake with fright. 

“What a pile of old shit! A bloody vampire, eh? Fucking hell, you two have lost your faculties if you’re expecting us to believe that!” Turning to his brother, Arthur was surprised to see Tommy completely unmoved by the story, his face unflinching, taking another drag of his cigarette.  

“Come on, Arthur,” he spoke evenly, sipping his tea. “Nobody is having you on, and you know it.” Turning to John, he placed his tea down. “This woman, John. Long, dark hair with a tattooed throat and chest?” 

He nodded a little dumbly. “Yeah, that’s her.”  

Tommy sat back again, flicking ash into the nearby ashtray with a sniff. “She’s been watching the house for a couple of weeks now.”  

“And you didn’t feel the need to mention that to anyone?” Polly charged him with, a deep frown settling between her eyebrows.  

“Speak not of the shadow walkers, lest ye bring them into the light. That’s what our dad used to say,” he revealed, Arthur scoffing immediately as he threw himself to his feet. 

“I ain’t listening to this load of old cobblers! Fucking mad, the lot of ya!”  

“Arthur, you know it’s true. You saw what I did on that night,” he reasoned softly, Arthur’s agitation winding tighter by the second as he paced the flagstones. “It’s time to face up to what happened.” 

“What night?” John demanded lightly, looking between them. Silence followed. “One of you better give me a fucking answer.”  

Tommy paused, bringing his cigarette to his lips once more. “I’ve thought about that night here and there over the years, but never mentioned it. Dad told us not to breathe a word to anyone,” he began, Arthur making a start for the door, almost throwing it off its hinges and slamming it behind him.  

Jerking his head in his wake he raised his eyebrows a fraction. “Terrified the life out of Arthur, so much so that he pissed himself. He’s never come to terms with that he witnessed, refuses to acknowledge it ever happened at all. He can’t comprehend what he saw, what we saw on that night, when dad took us up to the Black Patch when we were nippers to visit family. Now, I don’t know how much Polly revealed to you, but they aren’t spoken about, the shadow walkers as our gypsy kin always referred to them as, but for centuries, they had a pact.  

“Gypsy blood to a vampire is what a fine wine or whiskey is to us, so for hundreds of years, vampires would guard the camps in exchange for feeding upon that blood. That was, at least, until the pact was broken. I don’t know why, and neither did our dad, but one night they returned, to hand out the punishment they felt befitting of that broken pact.  

“Our dad did perhaps the only honourable thing he ever has as a father, and got on a horse, riding us out of there to the nearest church where he hid us away until the dawn. Vampires cannot walk upon hallowed ground, nor can they stand in the daylight, lest they burn to ashes. The rest of the camp weren’t so lucky. People were attacked, only very few surviving, but in a state of dread that one day, they’d be back. I suppose that day was last night, for I highly doubt she’s acting alone.” 

John immediately stared at Polly. “Did you know all of this?” 

She nodded in confirmation. “I did.” 

“So why the fuck didn’t you tell me last night?” he demanded, his eyes narrowing. 

“Because you were drunk as a lord, John. What I said was enough explanation without going into the finer details, of which I wasn’t sure you’d be able to absorb. I’m fucking surprised you comprehended even half of what I told you, to be frank.” 

John’s puzzlement was clear as it ghosted across his face, sighing as he rubbed his brow. “But it don’t make no sense. If she was here because she wanted us dead, some kind of further punishment for our kin breaking the pact, then why am I still alive? She could have had me head off, just the same as she did to Samuel fucking Rasmussen, but she didn’t.” He felt his heart flutter as he remembered how fondly she’d gazed upon him. God, she was such a beauty. 

Tommy shrugged lightly. “At a guess, I’d say she wants to rekindle the blood pact. Why she’d choose us and not one of the other families out there, well, I can’t answer that.” 

“Which means she probably wants something else from us, something greater,” a frowning Polly mused, the dread in her voice quite clear. It was a distinct change to her usual confident, self-assured tone. 

“And we’re not about to give her the chance to even broach it.” Tommy then turned to John, his eyes wide. “You’ll carry a silver knife upon your person from now on, as we all will. Her kind are not to be trusted. Killing that man, I suspect was to lure you into a false sense of security. Vampires are immortal; they have all the fucking time in the world to exact a plan. She’s biding her time.” 

“She didn’t only kill him,” John snorted, jerking his head to the right. “Coppers will find another three bodies somewhere out there soon enough.” 

Tommy rose to his feet, keen to move to his office and begin the day. “All the more reason not to trust her when she returns. Mark my words, John boy. She’ll be back. She’ll be back, I tell you, and it won’t lead to anything good.”  

All talk of vampires, blood pacts and a family history unknown to John meant that he could forget his pounding head for a short time. After his refuelling with toast and tea, he walked through to the offices, grasping the ledger and beginning to write, the space soon filling, the usual loud chaos abounding.  

Hangovers and mysterious, vampiric women aside, John’s day ended certainly more favourably than the previous. The favourite at Epson, Shamrock Pride pulled up lame in the fifth race, just as he was intended to. This netted a very tidy profit for them, John finishing his day with a spring in his step because of it.  

The Garrison for a whiskey or three? Whyever not.  

“Daddy?”  

The soft grasp of a tiny hand curled his little finger, John pausing from pulling on his overcoat to look down into the big, green eyes of his daughter, Katie carrying a book within her grasp.  

“You should be in bed, pige.” Pige. Short for pigeon, the fond pet name for his only child from his short marriage to Martha, his wife taken from him by the cruel clutches of consumption when Katie was mere baby in arms.  

Poking out her bottom lip, she proffered the book forth. The Velveteen Rabbit. It had to have been their fourth read through at that point, the book only published six months before. “Please?” 

He sighed softly through his nose. “Go on,” he spoke to his brother, “I’ll catch up with you.”  

Arthur nodded, leaving John to place his coat over the back of the fireside armchair there in the front room, adjusting his trousers as he sat, Katie scrambling onto his lap. “Right, where were we?”  

Opening the book, the cloth binding soft and velvety against his fingers, John laid the well-worn leather bookmark across Katie’s legs, stroking her strawberry blonde curls as he began to read. Ten minutes, give or take, and she would nod off with her little rosy cheeked face nestled against his chest.  

Eleven and a half minutes later, and the soft little piglet snorts of a babe in slumber filled the space, John smiling down at her. “Let’s get you up them stairs, eh, pige?” Once he’d placed her into her bed and covered her in blankets, he laid a kiss to her forehead, whispering his love before creeping out, overcoat thrown on and a cigarette lit before stepping out into the frigid night.  

Snowflakes fluttered down over the streets of Small Heath, John feeling winter tingle as his cheeks, the flames of the blast furnaces offering a roar of warmth as he passed them by, the lights of The Garrison twinkling through the inky gloom.  

“John.” 

The whisper of his name echoed through his ears, John turning, his eyes scanning for the source. Nobody. On he walked.  

“John.” 

It was louder than before this time as once again he halted, turning, looking for the female to whom the voice belonged. He almost dived out of his skin when upon his turn back, there she was.  

The vampire looked even more breathtaking to him than she had the night before. 

#john shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfiction #john shelby smut #peaky blinders smut #john shelby x ofc #john shelby fanfic #john shelby fic #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fic

[lopposting]

I absolutely love your lore theories for LoP! Very new to the fandom :). Stayed up all night reading your posts abt it whahaha please keep making them!

Just wanted to ask what you think, if Camille was the recorded first puppet with an awakened ego and was Carlo's mom... does that mean Geppetto let his wife be experimented on by the alchemists upon her death or???

Another thought, do you think Sophia knew Geppetto's plans? Given that she reached out to P at the very beginning and called him by name ((geppettos puppet)) She knew Simon's plans yeah. But what abt Geppettos?

Thank you so much for your kind ask!!!

I panicked briefly because I thought I lost this ask somewhere. I have a LOT of thoughts surrounding Camille and parts of the game that I struggle to put together really cohesively, so on certain topics, i'm just going to ramble.

So, there is this image from the opening cutscene.

Maybe it isn't literally Camille and Carlo, but it may be alluding to them. [And what are they shown playing here? dundundun]

There is a particular affinity and focus the game has on the Piano as well.

Music is so linked to humanity in this game, i think it's very sweet.

There was also this really interesting post about the blue fairy (in the og collodi novel) that I don't think I can dig up anymore, but I remember it was something like this. It was pointing out that, realistically, the blue fairy really isn't a good parent. She lets a seven year old child be hanged on a tree, she watches by as he is enslaved; she makes him "work" for the right to be a real boy instead of reasonably granting him it, etc. The blue fairy also appears omniscient or goddess-like, appearing as a child, a young woman, a goat, and a mother (in perhaps her most adapted incarnation).

if Sophia's knowledge is endless, couldn't she have warned us about geppetto? wouldn't she know about carlo (someone she knew as a child) being tortured in a box? was it her discretion to let us suffer, because he needs to be able to suffer to be strong? Does that make her a moral or ethical person? Can any personhood with omniscience, who, in a sense, allows evil to happen, be moral or just? Perhaps, herein lies the philosophical, inherent flaw, in any relationship with an omniscient being, but I digress.

However, I think Sophia's endless knowledge that Arlecchino [sadly I write his name wrong every time] refers to is spiritual, or emotional, in a sense: that because she could manipulate time, all of it was at her disposal. When we wake up in the train car, her words are: "There you are, I've been looking all over for you!" She could not have known where we were, if she was searching for us (possibly through the blue butterfly figure we see). Also, I think she could've warned us about Geppetto.. but maybe then we wouldn't have gone to save her, and her goals are to get us to save her from Simon, which I believe she either says or suggests are "selfish" intentions (although I think she is very well within her right to have tbh). I don't think she is all-knowing in the way that Simon's world of truth would be. Maybe it's just a plot hole, perhaps it's just a "flaw" innate in writing any story with an omniscient character, but I don't think she was omniscient in that fashion.

And then coming back to Camille: One of my absolute favourite things about the game is the Saintess of Mercy Statue/Pieta Motif that we see in the Grand Exhibition. And Camille, who is inferred to have been the mother of Carlo, is said to have engineered the statue. She is directly connected to the game's central visual motif of death and rebirth. And then the statue also being diegetically[not a word apparently?] associated with rebirth and renewal ("Bring new life to puppets") in that you are "re-setting" and re-spec your character's stats there??? Equal parts beautiful and spectacular and touching.

[I feel SO sad that apparently, not every gamer got to see the statue. Opening those doors after the phone call riddle and then the camera panning up to the statue is such an amazing and special moment to me, and then the fact that it's also raining (another symbol of birth) too]

I don't know if the Camille puppet was literally the same Camille (who may have been the wife of Giuseppe), though. We know that she seems to have saved a baby from falling, on which afterwards she says "bring me back to my child". Not only is the Camille puppet a devoted mother character, she's also the first puppet to awaken (in other words, being associated with the idea of birth). "Camille" is so tied to the idea of motherhood and birth, that I think the Camille puppet is another connection here, and may not literally be the same Camille who was a technician. Although, I don't put it past Geppetto to be doing nefarious experiments with puppets, even if it were his wife. It might be a little ominous in regards to his attitude to P, that he doesn't see puppets as "people", but he does see people as puppets.

#lies of p #lop #liesofp #lies of p spoilers #spoiler #pinocchio #ask #chikirya #camille #speculation #blue fairy #sorry i take very long to respond to any engagement thank you again everyone. #spoilers #tw hanging

[buckyegans]

Just Me and You, Shifty Powers

just a little imagine I crossposted on my Wattpad (boneflu) and wanted to post here!

no warnings just pure fluff

 Austria had been some sort of dream—the daily warm meal and hot showers seemed to be too good to be true. Yet, here you were, hands gripping the splintered wood of the old dock, swinging your legs to just barely graze the surface of the water below. The sky had turned pink and orange as the sun had made her way down, bringing forth the moon rising from behind the mountains. Your shoes and socks were somewhere further up the dock, your mind too focused on the coolness bringing small goosebumps up your bare legs, trousers rolled to your calves.

 "This is where you've been hidin' all night?" a soft voice asked, footsteps accompanying Shifty's voice as he made his way down the dock. You looked up, finding Darrell haloed by the wind-blewn trees and waking stars. You gave a lopsided grin and nodded, offering your hand to the sharpshooter. For a man who always wielded a rifle, the pads of his fingers were smooth, and soft. He carefully plopped down next to you, your thighs pressed together. Soon enough he was tossing his shoes and socks behind him just as you had, propping his legs up to roll his pants to match yours. His feet met the water and he let out a content sigh. "Found yourself a pretty spot, huh?" The Virginia asked.

 You nodded. "Sure did, Shift. All the boys are being too loud." you stated, looking to what he had gripped in his hand. A bottle of champagne, no doubt some lavish brand some Kraut had been waiting to pop when they won the war—but tonight, it was their victory. "Whatcha got there, Shift?" Darrell looked down to his hand and grinned, shrugging before offering it up to you. The label was a different language, you suspected French. "Where did you manage to find this?"

 You hummed, thumb pressing against the cork until it popped loudly, causing both of you to jump before turning to one another with giddy grins. You took a long swing before wiping your mouth, "here's to our alcoholic intelligence officer—and his ability to choose the good stuff."

 Shifty takes the bottle from you by its neck, tipping it into his own mouth. "Here's to him," he agreed, grimacing at the taste. Shifty's face twisted, causing you to let out a laugh, while Shifty grinned proudly. You nursed the bottle once more and drank from it once more before laying on the dock, legs hanging over. Darrell followed your movements, readjusting to get his shoulder flush against yours. He unashamedly lopped his head to the side to stare at you, your eyes fluttering shut, glowing from the sun. The hard war was evident in your tired eyes and silver scars, but Shifty thought you had never looked to gorgeous.

 "You're starin', Powers." your comment is accompanied with an amused glance at him, head falling to meet his gaze. He only hums in response, smiling with his rosy, sun-loved cheeks. "Do I have something on my face?"

 Shifty is shaking his head slowly. "No," he states shortly, grinning that smile that had gone into hiding since stepping into the Ardennes—the endless months in a permanent winter had hardened even the softest of soldiers, Shifty Powers included. Every now and again, you got him to give that little smile, hidden behind a scarf, only for you to see. But, here on this dock, it was on full display. "It's just you and me, so I get to stare all I want."

 You're cocking your head to the side and pushing yourself up to stand, brows furrowed. "Is that so?" you ask, looking down at him. Shifty is following your movements as he gives a confident nod. "And why is that?"

 He smiles again. "No distractions. No questions. No possible gunfire. Just me and you." You're inching closer with each of his words, his arms snaking around your waist and pulling you closer. "Now I can tell you how pretty I think you are." He's giddy as he says this, looking like a little kid on Christmas. You can't help but blush pink, shaking your head.

 "Was I not pretty enough in Bastogne?" you tease. Shifty is rolling his eyes playfully, shaking his head and tutting.

 He's pushing hair behind your ear. "You're always pretty. But now I don't got no competition—no one around to try and take you from this moment. Just you and me?"

 You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down closer and closer. "So," you trail off. "What are you gonna do now that it's just you and me?"

 Shifty grins. "Well, I'd like to kiss you."

 You laugh. "Kiss me, Darrell."

#band of brothers imagines #band of brothers x reader #darrell powers #shifty powers #shifty powers x reader

[sadnessisavegetable]

It is exceptionally funny to introduce my specific blorbo (the pathetic wet cat of a man he is, the one and only Ghirahim) to those who are not in the fandom. Because, in the case of my family who see things through the Blue F, they see vague sketches and then fully done art aND THEN THE DEATH I HAVE DRAWN FOR THE CHARACTER.

My cousin, my poor beloved cousin, saw this picture of Ghirahim first (because I am not a coward about being an independent adult human on a Sunday afternoon):

THIS IS GHIRAHIM AS A BELLYDANCER.

YOU CAN LOOK ME IN THE FACE AND I WON’T APOLOGIZE FOR WHAT I POSTED HALF AN HOUR LATER:

THIS IS MY BOY

DYING

IN THE ARMS OF A LINK VARIANT NAMED LOP

So yes, my poor cousin was immediately concerned and asked why she was introduced to my blorbo only for me to kill him.

#my art #ghirahim #loz #lop the link #ghiralink ig

[mcity-xe]

Manchester City boys - social media AU (RD.,JS.,JG.) . info; another fic about the boys :) just shown thru social media-dose not inculde any OC-there will be M/M relationships as well polyamorus relationships implied or actually wrote in this fic so if you dont like that...well idk just dont hate . requested; nope - but if any of you have in request about ANY football player i will wrote them (even if i dont know/dont know much about the player(s) i will look it up and write it for you so send your requests my way! ;) ) . note; some NSFW will be in the story (nothing much but it will be in the story)! Also hope you all enjoyed this, will definetly be posting more soon 🫶 .

jackgrealish

liked by johnstonesofficial, rubendias and 562 742 other people

jackgrealish; Loml 🫶❤️‍🩹

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COMMENTS

johnstonesofficial: @rubendias it looks life were roaches or something bc jacks dog is his love of his life 😦 ^rubendias: stonsey i told you we shoudnt have goten him a dog ^kylewalker2: 🤣🤣🤣

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jackgrealish: 📸 credits; @johnstonesofficial ^johnstonesofficial: ❤️‍🩹

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the number of comments is limited

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johnstonesofficial

liked by kylewalker2, rubendias and 652 732 other people

johnstonesofficial; got a chance to hang out with these two lovleys ❤️‍🩹

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THIRD POINT OF VIEW;

"Happy birthday!" two voices yelled out as Ruben entered his their house. "What?" he asked with a confused face and with a smile. Looking around he saw that there was a shitty yet lovley looking DIY banner (that Jack and John obviously made it themselves) on the wall, a lop-sided cake on the table with a wine bottle next to it as well some paper plates and utencils.

Infront of him were Jack and John. The two had the biggest smile on their faces and both if them were holding a giftbag. Just as he was about to say something, Jack tackled him into a hug - almost sending him flying into the door. "Woah!" he exclaimed, holding the English man by his tighs as Jack lached onto him like a koala.

"Happy birthday.." he mumbled as he started to kiss Rubens neck, then his face, kissing him anywhere and everywhere. "Thank you, thank you." Ruben chuckled, kissing Jack on his lips. "Happy birthday." another voice said. Looking to his right, Ruben saw John walking towards them. He put his arms around Jacks and Rubens neck before he started to kiss Ruben as well, just like Jack, everywhere and anywhere.

"Thank you, thank you." Ruben said, kissing John on the lips as well.

The three stood there for a very long time kissing eachother hot and heavy, making out - one always watching the other make out, and just getting hot and bothered (iykwim). "Thank fuck all the blinds are down and that the windows are closed." Ruben muttured as he watched John sucking on Jacks neck, making the younger English man moan.

"Ah- John.." he said in a high pitched voice, breathing hevealy. "Let's take this upstairs, shall we?" John asked looking at his two partners. "Oh hell yeah, for sure." Ruben replied.

With that the three tried to get up the stairs as soon as possible. At one point they stopped on the stairs so Ruben can capture Jacks lips in a deep kiss. Pulling away, Ruben picked up Jack bridal style and the three were in Rubens their bedroom withing the minute. "Fuck you look hot." Ruben said as he threw Jack on the bed while looking down on him. "Don't ya agree Johnny?" he asked his partner.

"Oh yeah, he really dose. Look at him - all good and polite. He's just waiting for us to do something." "D'ya think he deserves a reward?" Ruben asked him. "I think he dose Rubes."

TIMESKIP...

"Oh fuck me.." Jack mumbled in a hoarse voice as he was laying on his back, panting alot. "We just did." John replied with a smug voice, looking down at him with so much love in his eyes. To that he just got a middle finger in responce. Ruben then entered the room again with a few washcloths. He sat on the bed, next to Jack and he slowly started to clean Jack. "Are you okay?" the Portugese man asked him. "Yeah, just tired.." was the responce he got.

John and Ruben continued to clean themselves and Jack with a washcloth before John got up to run a bath. "I hope your happy.." Jack muttured out, looking at Ruben with half opened eyes. "With you two I'm always happy Jack." he replied, kissing Jacks forehead. Just then John came back to the room. "The bath is ready." he informed the two.

Getting up, Rubem carefully picked up Jack again bridal style, and the three walked to the bathroom. Ruben gently placed Jack into the bath, and the English man sighed, consent.

Both John and Ruben also got into the bath with him, and the three helped eachother to wash eachother for the next few minutes.

After John and Ruben dressed themselves before helping Jack. Jack was tired and sore but so so happy. He was glad that Ruben and John were happy, and that was all that really mattered to him. "I'm kinda hungry." John said, as he threw the towel away into the hamper. "Well, the cake that we made for Rubes is still downstairs, as well as the wine too." Jack said, looking at John. "Lets see what you two made." Ruben said with a smile.

And with that the three men made their way downstairs. Ruben was once more carrying Jack bridal style and once they got downstairs, he gently placed the English man on the couch.

John and Ruben took the the cake, paper plates and cutlery as well ad the wine bottle and some wine glasses to the living room and they put all of the stuff on the living room table.

John cut the cake and served them some cake slices while Jack carefully poured the wine into the wine glasses. Ruben just sat next to them while he looked at his two lovers.

After everything was ready, Ruben finally tried the cake.

"And?" John asked impaciently, wanting an answer. "Its delcious." Ruben said.

Jack looked at him with a strange look before trying the cake himself. "Oh it is actually good." he lighted up before taking a few more bites. "I honestly tought you were lying." he added on.

"Well I dont lie Jacky." Ruben winked at him. With that, the three ate while bickering and laughing and just enjoying eachothers company.

After they finished eating, John turned on the TV and put on a random show.

The three got comfortable on the couch, before they started to actually pay attencion to the show.

Ruben was on his back while Jack layed on top of him. John was on Rubens right side, smushed inbetween Ruben and the couches back. He threw his right hand and leg over Jack and Ruben, trying to be as close as humanly possible next to the two. And just like that, the three fell asleep, constent and happy.

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rubendias

liked by nathanake, kylewalker3 and 888 652 other people

rubendias; thanks for all the birthday wishes, had a blast last night - also @jackgrealish & @johnstonesofficial thanks for the amazing cake and for an awsome night ❤️‍🩹

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COMMENTS

jackgrealish: ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

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johnstonesofficial: you're welcome lovley ❤️‍🩹 ^liked by rubendias

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obafemi.5: Happy birthday brother! 🩵

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laporte: 🩵🥳

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mancity: Happy bday, to our Ruben! 🩵

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uxsxexr: boyfriends confirmed??? 👀👀

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userro: please thats adorable

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TAP TO LOAD MORE...

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jackgrealish

liked by kevindebruyne, kalvinphillips and 732 554 other people

jackgrealish; @rubendias @johnstonesofficial ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

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COMMENTS

rubendias: my boys ❤️‍🩹

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userrro: OMFG THEIR TOGETHER, PLS I LOVE YOU THREE SO MUCH

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kevindebruyne: I see you took them to the place I recommended Grealo ^jackgrealish: I did and it was amazing, thanks Kev!

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uxsxexr: cuties

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TAP TO LOAD MORE...

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johnstonesofficial added to their story

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#manchester city #man city #mcfc #rúben dias #ruben dias #john stones #jack grealish #football imagines #football imagine #football players #footballer x footballer #m/m/m #m/m/m relationship #polyamourous #gay

[creacherkeeper]

when your party adopts the slutty lesbian assassin angel of the jackalope god of chaos and death

{ unknown / @mumblesplash / devotions, mary oliver / jackrabbit, san fermin / @moral-autism / the door, margaret atwood / raise hell, brandi carlile / watership down, richard adams / @paladinbaby / creacherkeeper }

[ID: a series of 10 images, mainly text, in a litstack

1, in all caps in a wild west font: is that a boy or a girl? / ma'am that's an outlaw

2: a tumblr post by mumblesplash that reads "like it's MY fault my love language is acts of service and all i know hoe to do is kill"

3: I believe in kindness. Also in mischief. Also in singing, especially when singing is not necessarily prescribed.

4: Want to live like an animal? / By the skin of your teeth? / Put your good face on, you're foolin' no one / You're a jackrabbit underneath

5: a tumblr post by moral-autism that reads "anyway for the record, yes, so-and-so did use girl power when she committed a bunch of murders. it's called girl power not girl ethics or girl qualms or girl wisdom or whatnot."

6: Anything can become a saint if you pray to it enough -

7: I've been down with a broken heart / Since the day I learned to speak / The devil gave me a crooked start / When he gave me crooked feet / But Gabriel done came to me / And kissed me in my sleep / And I'll be singing like an angel / Until I'm six feet deep

8: All the world will be your enemy, Prince with a Thousand Enemies, and whenever they catch you, they will kill you. But first they must catch you, digger, listener, runner, prince with the swift warning. Be cunning and full of tricks and your people shall never be destroyed.

9: art of brandi by paladinbaby. brandi is an aasimar with light brown skin and freckles. she's shown from the chest up and is looking upwards. she has brown hair in two thick braids, and lighter brown lop rabbit ears and short antlers. he's wearing a white bow choker, and a beaded red leather jacket open over a teal bra. she also has a septum piercing and lesbian flag pin. the background is light blue

10: a screenshot of a discord message from lev (creacherkeeper) that reads "my favorite thing about brandi is that he's stoopid"

end ID]

#litstack #quote collection #lost township #time for a more fun one #brandi my babygirl i love him so dearly #yes her name is brandi carlile dont at me #brandi losttownship

[taffywabbit]

they should invent a new type of "staying in bed for 2-3 hours after you wake up repeatedly opening and closing apps on your phone" where it makes you feel awesome and energized and emotionally fulfilled

#buny text #I'm fine i've just been staying up too late playing bg3 the past few nights #and then wanting to wake up before noon so my parents don't say anything rude to me so i end up getting less sleep to facilitate that #and it's catching up to me #i feel like this explanation maybe undermines my previous statement of 'I'm fine' a bit but I'm fine i promise #look at my lop posts boy

[starlytenight]

I’m new to tumblr so I hope I’m doing this right, but one of my favorite concepts of Meta is one’s where he has horns! How would Galacta and/or the others react if he had some? What would they look like?

Well, hiya! Welcome to tumblr!

And you're fine, though hopefully you're fine with things being answered through the lens of my own HCs/AU since I have that going on here! See my pinned post for the fic link if you're curious.

As for my take on that headcanon, it's neat. Not one I personally follow, but some of the horn designs I've seen for him have been pretty cool. Mine wouldn't get any horns naturally so everyone would be concerned if someone tried to mess with his biology or ask him if they're just fakes, haha.

As for appearance, in this AU, I've cracked so many jokes about Meta and my boy Vladimir having a bromance that I'd just give him the same horns he has for the irony. Except not lop-sided.

But yeah most would just be concerned for him since he's like... in his later stage in life and if he was supposed to have horns they would have grown in ages ago. Everyone would be concerned and checking his health/making sure he wasn't like cursed or something, haha.

Once in the clear though, they wouldn't think much of them since there's a fair amount of horned others in the crew. Probably advice and care would be given if he was stuck with them or options on how to cut them off if he wanted to remove them.

Though... With the extra height he might keep them if this was a thing.

Also Vladimir's horns are what make him "bigger" than Meta so if Meta had the horns, he'd be taller, at long last. (Vladimir is literally like .5 inches smaller than Meta without horns LOL)

#Obvs not canon to ASM:R here folks but it is a fun thing he would enjoy once the panic dies off lol #Starlyteart #ASMR Chitter Chatter

[joyboythehopepunk]

the color of growth

the color of growth by donovan melero

it's one of those emotive songs that helps me feel things i normally put to the side. not sure if anyone else does this. where you just get into one of those moods.. where you have to think about/feel the things that are bothering you?

it used to be more self destructive for me than listening to a sad song or two. i used to be an alcoholic. i used to be depressed and a little bipolar.

but i'm autistic with cptsd. being in fucked up situations really does a number on me in a way it doesn't seem to mess with other people. that is why i have only been in handful of relationships.

things affect me much more intensely.

at first i thought i was just a highly sensitive person. well. at first i just thought i was a moody weirdo who happened to be intelligent.

anyway.. this part of my self discovery journey only began in earnest with a failed relationship. i had to know what was wrong with me.

but... just as i'd feared: nothing is more wrong with me than anyone else. i only confirmed i am fucked up. like everyone else. just in a different way. definitely less fucked up than the general public.

that was this issue, ultimately. if you're closer to health and your society is mostly sick.. you look more damaged. you look like the crazy one. but you're actually sane. more sane than any peers you've had. i'm also a statistical anomaly in a way, too. being mixed, trans, and disabled is common on this hellsite.

but lgbtq people, brown people, and neurodivergent people are technically still minorities.

anyway.. my journey has been a long one. and it isn't over yet.

the color of growth is a sad song about the loss of love and regret. which is mainly what I feel when i think of her. the one that really hurt me. for some reason.. it seems to hurt more than anything i can remember in a long time. and yeah, i know autistic people experience trauma more extremely.. but oof.

ramble. it wasn't just my fault. i know that. i just wish i could find someone who is as patient and considerate as i am. i make an excellent lover. it is too bad people keep proving me right about their characters. but we all have fucked up things going on. idk.

i'm tired of being alone. i have been alone my whole life - unlike others. no real emotional/mental support my whole life. was barely taken care of as a child. as an adult i've had no real friends/family.

people make me uncomfortable. and with how i've seen them treat one another (except in rare instances) it is understandable. why anyone would be wary. and maybe that is why people don't really seem to value relationships as much as they say.

but i am a voidpunk/spiritual being. i've never looked at humans the same way as other people. i value life, i really do. i probably value the connections more than normal. i see peoples' humanity more than normal.

but lately.. lately i have grown more detached. bc i just don't have the energy to give people. bc i'm tired of being hurt and disappointed.

people who don't see me as a person. people who can't respect or give space or support me. especially when i've always been a very giving person... why should i give them consideration? other than it's the right thing to do? (which has gotten me taken advantage of and misunderstood too)

always in lop-sided relationships. (bc people expect something specific out of me/expect more from me)

never understood or loved properly. (bc people don't know how to be there for me/love me. they only have so much space in their hearts ig)

there's no point to this post except for me to air my feelings out. it feels like i have a giant wound inside me. and tho i suspect others feel the same.. there is a difference in the clarity and magnitude of awareness.. how much we know of ourselves and others deepens such pain.

ah. it hurts. to think of loving and being loved in return.

(a/n: check out Aurora's Nature Boy song)

can't wait to find my companion, lover, and friend. hopefully i won't wait much longer.

#voidpunk #personal #love #romance #loss #regret #pain #heartache #relationship #heartbroken #moving on #healing #romantic #hopeless romantic #solitude #loneliness #partner #lover #friend #companion

[agoraphobiclapine]

I know I've not properly introduced the stardew boys yet, but seeing as at midnight we will be reaching the lunar new year, I figured I could introduce you to their pet rabbits. Also, look how cozy they all look, I'd die for some cozy vibes like those......(although Fletcher is my self insert character......I'd die to be laid out on a big belly like the little one on the left. Speaking of Judas is @girthleng 's boy!) Please let me know what you guys think! I've really felt creative lately thanks to these characters and the antics I expect them to get up to, but I've not drawn in years, and even then, I don't have much experience. I should really start using references so things make a bit more sense, but for now, enjoy my messy art!

The little one is a Belgian Hare cross. Belgian hares are naturally short haired, slender, and more nervous than many rabbits. They are rabbits rather than true hares and tend to be a bit sickly (especially when purebred), so that's why he's crossed out with another breed. He can frequently be found curled up on his favorite human's big belly, finding comfort in the warmth and softness that calms him down. (sounds just like a certain feeder!), snuggled up next to his best friend for warmth and security, or having zoomies to get rid of some of his nervous energy. Super nervous around strangers and severe changes to his routine or environment will cause stress and make him ill.

The rabbit on the right is a flemmish giant/english lop cross. This cross was made to create a bun with a steady temperament that was also a really fluffy, supersized, absolute unit of a rabbit that is always ready for cuddles. He can often be found being used like a space heater for his much more slender and nervous friend or absolutely loafed out on his human, Fletcher. Making him look like an even bigger rabbit compared to his human's slender frame. He makes a great hot water bottle/weighted heat source and frequently comes in handy to help deal with grounding from sensory overload and help ease Fletcher's chronic pain. This bunny is so relaxed and calm and is just very steady. He loves attention and cuddles and is super trusting.

This will be the last post of my doodles before I finally take the time to introduce the boys. But I couldn't pass up a lunar new year post. The Buns don't have names yet, but im open to suggestions.

Aka its the year of the rabbit. It's literally my year, hope you're ready to bite off more than you can chew again and again 😘😘

#weight gain #stardew weight gain #ssbhm belly #bhm weight gain #bhm wg #male feedism #male wg #queer feeder #fat piggy #fatass #gay bhm #soft feedism #ssbhm #food as a love language #food as a metaphor for love #fat fiction #queer feedee #bhm art #bhm fiction #year of the rabbit #stay tuned they break the couch in the next drawing #no for real look at the leg its already cracking #stardew oc #stardew farmer #men should be big #big boy #feedee belly #wg stuff #wg denial #wg art

[miguels-talons]

stop liking my timber post that was so last month 💅

like my lop posts those are better i mean look at this puppet boy

gorgeous

#wow i talk

[wordsandrobots]

Some thoughts on High Grade (1/144) Gundam Hajiroboshi, here shown on the right in a very poor phone picture, immediately post-build, line up with the other two Iron-Blooded Orphans protagonist Gundams (Astaroth and Barbatos [Lupus Rex]).

I wasn’t intending to get this but was up in York yesterday and happened across the kit in Travelling Man (best comics/manga chain in the UK, regrettably restricted to the north of England so I don’t go there very often these days). Since I doubted I’d see it in the wild again for a while, I decided to add it to my growing IBO collection (which I really ought to photograph properly at some point).

Hajiroboshi has mostly the same frame as the rest of the HG IBO Gundams, with a bit of variety in the forearms to liven things up. Most of the interest is in the armour, which is a good deal more ‘deliberately designed’ in its aesthetic than the other two. Astaroth’s whole gimmick is being mismatched and lop-sided, while Barbatos is constantly being upgraded, parts of other machines literally bolted on to the frame. Hajiroboshi, by contrast, feels like a finished product, and is both bulkier and more streamlined than its counterparts.

Some parts are very standard for IBO Gundams - the wrists, the shape of the torso - but others make me think of the Hyakuren, especially the shoulders, and the cockpit is blatantly nicked off a Graze. It’s also clearly built to take a hit, with considerably more overlapping armour. Then there’s the winged jet engines hanging off the back, which seem like they’ve been ripped off a plane. Indeed, there’s a sense of someone bolting on any thrusters they had to hand to get this thing to fly right.

Weapon wise, the club, shield and gun feel pared-down, which I think is good. Between Astaroth’s Bastard Chopper and Barbatos’ mace, the other two have ‘ludicrous smashing implements’ well covered, so it’s a nice change of pace to have more restrained armaments on display.

Seeing the three together, I’m impressed by how the designers pulled them off in comparison to one another. Each of them looks the part as a protagonist machine and they clearly belong in the same universe, yet each has its own, easily distinguishable look.

Information on the (very, very, VERY delayed) Urdr Hunt spin-off game remains relatively sparse, limited to trailers and starting-point character outlines. Wistario Afam, pilot of the Hajiroboshi, looks to be a far more . . . um . . . upbeat hero than either Argi Mirage (from the Moon Steel manga) or Mikazuki Augus (our murderous boy from IBO proper). Whether this will make him insufferable or a breath of fresh air is yet to be seen. But I have to say, I like his mobile suit.

#Gundam Iron-blooded Orphans #gundam ibo #g tekketsu #Tekketsu no Orphans #gunpla #high grade #kits #I am running out of space for these things #luckily I only want to get about four more of them #Urdr Hunt #wonder when it'll end up coming out . . . #it's only been since 2019