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#squids tried something
aeriona · 7 months
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HI HELLO! Welcome to my completely unnecessarily detailed analysis on how I think Inkfish languages could work! + with art! yay! This is all pretty rough and not fully fleshed out (I don't have the time or patience for that lmao). THIS IS A LONG POST.
Okay, so there's dozens of languages spoken by cephalopods in the Mollusc Era but the main two I'll talk about are Inkling (or Inklish) and Octarian, spoken mostly by Inklings and Octolings respectively. 
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In cephalopods, speech is formed using the syrinx and larynx, two fancy vocal organs that most other species don't have together. The larynx makes sounds using the radula (tongue) and vocal folds in the throat, it's clear and pretty easy to understand as the sound itself resembles human speech, albeit warbled. The syrinx makes noise by vibrating air at the base of the trachea, it's often trickier to follow as it can sound more like droning background noise than words sometimes.
An inkfish can use both of them at once, resulting in an EXTREMELY complicated language system where words can be made up of multiple layered syllables, and several words and sentences can even be said at the same time.
As you can probably imagine, all of this is LITERAL HELL to learn for species who don’t have both a syrinx and a larynx (so basically anyone who isn't a cephalopod). But fear not! There are many simple and more inclusive alternatives, dialects and other cool stuff like sign language and instant TTS technology for people who physically can't pronounce Inkling/Octarian or even vocalise at all (eg. jellyfish).
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Both main Inkfish languages can be broken down into laryngeal words (made with the larynx), syringeal/drone words (made with the syrinx) or a combination of both, called dual-toned/layered words.
Keep in mind that both word-types can be spoken at the same time. Layering can be used to add additional connotations to a word, or to even make a new one entirely. For example, the laryngeal noun ‘bird’ combined with the syringeal noun ‘metal’ spoken together will create the layered Inkling word ‘aeroplane’, like a compound word in English.
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Dual-toned stuff is more common in Inkling than in Octarian, as the language is older and has more loanwords. Inklish's dependence on the larynx gives it a higher-pitched, clearer sound whereas  Octarian's more monotone syrinx-based structure results in a deep, almost guttural sound.
Both cephalopod languages are heavy on tone and pronunciation, resulting in a plenty of accent indicators in written scripts. I used the in-game fonts for the art but if I were to rework it, each letter would probably be more complicated than traditional Mandarin on steroids. So hell on earth, basically.
On a side note, all of these language features open possibilities for some very cool poetry and literature. An inkfish author could write a poem with two lines of thought occurring at once, or a book with vivid emotional undertones written inside the prose. Pretty cool.
OKAY that's all I have to say thank you for reading! Hopefully this makes sense, feel free to send asks or whatever if it's confusing and I'll do my best to explain it better!
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phoenixcatch7 · 2 years
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Love the idea of each previous hero's journey being mostly lost to time, such that each time the cycle starts again absolutely no one picks up the very obvious clues that might lead them to the hero.
Oh, you've named your blond haired blue eyed child Link, have you? That's a good name!
Oh, he's found a strange red and white maned horse he's named epona who has utterly bonded with him? How unusual!
Yes, the princess Zelda is the same age, isn't she? What a good omen for the family!
We know he doesn't talk much, but he's the sweetest lad, don't worry!
Don't fret, dearie, his wanderlust will abate when he grows up, I'm sure it won't get him in too much trouble before then.
Prodigious little swordsman, isn't he? He would make a great knight if he wanted to when he's older!
Oh? Rumours about a long forgotten temple in the woods? How strange! Are you sure it's not just the children telling stories?
Look at him in his armoured green outfit! That hat looks lovely on him - where did you find it?
#It's so funny#In just about every Zelda I've played there's been about a hundred signs link is In The Building and no one ever notices#Twilight Princess was the absolute worst everyone just kept bringing up Its The Hero stuff and it just was not clicking#By the time we got to epona I was half tempted to make a bingo card#Heck he even has a tree house!!#Strong oot time genes there XD#There's something about loading up a Zelda game and going 'yup. This is a Zelda game alright' but NO ONE in universe notices#YOU ACTUALLY LIVE THERE YOU GUYS STUDY THIS IN HISTORY CLASS#it also opens up the great trope of link casually knowing stuff from previous lives he absolutely shouldn't and nobody taking it seriously#Until he comes back with the master sword#Some of those games were particularly bonkers and if the specifics never got recorded then there's no way anyone would believe them#A zora princess tried to marry the hero?? Lmao try writing fanfic#Listen I know it says the hero came from the woods but kokiri don't exist he would have just lived in a cottage or something#How dare you besmirch the hero's honour! He would never lower himself to base property damage! Never mind pots!#No hylian can ever wrestle a goron are you insane??#Talking boat.... Sure#But you just KNOW Zelda would get some scholars and they'd hang off his every word#I love fics where link just casually references some world shaking knowledge (ie rito being zora descended and their own squid ancestors)#Or what the divine beasts were named after#Or what time travel feels like#Or that the myths hylians came from the skies are true#Or what one Zelda did when she vanished centuries ago#Or what the giant skeletons were#That kind of thing#Sorry I rambled#long post#legend of zelda#loz#loz zelda#loz link
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snailfen · 7 months
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BLEURGH anyone else in that weird state where they dont wanna draw cus they keep getting frustrated
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backpackofposts · 11 months
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Similar to how the Minecraft cave spider is slightly smaller than the average spider model, I think glow squids should have a smaller model than the normal squid
#Which makes sense too since a lot of bioluminescent squids are smaller than your traditional/more common squid#and I just think it would be a fun little detail#like the squid having a smaller size would change absolutely none of its mechanics it’s purely aesthetic#like there are so many non-functional that were originally in Minecraft#that I find it funny when Mojang tries to claim they couldn’t add something because it wasn’t practical or realistic#cough cough fireflies cough like dude you made ocelots completely obsolete when making cats a different animal#my beef with Mojang is simple: they haven’t been updating the game they have been revamping and re-branding it#nether update? no fuck no! they added a lot of new Contant but they did not improve upon any pre-existing elements#but what about the zombie Pigman weren’t they updated? no they were replaced by something inspired by them#with a zombie version to calm the crowd.#because if they’re their own species now with their own spawning structures then who the fuck do the nether fortress is belong to!?#The nether update added a lot of things that were inspired off of pre-existing things in the nether but none of them are direct improvements#for example the nether wart forest would you are unable to get nether wart from#The new soul sand valley is interesting but I wish your soul Sand actually looked like it had souls in it like the classic stuff#and I think the new sand could be improved upon if you made it look like there were hands of the souls#because I always thought you walked slowly on soul Sand because the souls were trying to drag you down with them✨#it’s funny how much Minecraft is treated like a Game for all ages because when you really look at it I think it’s actually quite dark#but take what I say with a pinch of salt because I’m just rambling and this post was originally about squids#glow squid#minecraft glow squid#bioluminescent squid#bioluminescent#Minecraft#squid#Minecraft squid#bioluminescence#caves and cliffs#minecraft nether
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padfootastic · 2 years
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So… this ended up longer than I meant for it to be. Sorry. 😁
The way you view James is interesting to me. I always imagined him as being a pretty free spirt who is just so incredibly alive. Most people who meet him probably describe him as the most alive person they’d ever met. He lived every second to the fullest and wanted to go all the way out to the edge and experience everything. Of course him and Sirius are described as “much admired rebels” but his rebellion isn’t the same it’s a freer thing if that makes sense? It’s not born form such darkness as Sirius’ is. James’ is fueled by a lust for life, new experiences, and new people and it’s more him challenging or rebelling against pure blood society (which I think is like just how the Potters roll) and their messed up ideals not his family.  Sirius’ being fueled by a lust for freedom (from his family, their beliefs, abuse, and his demons) and discovery of who he is and wants to be. Thus rebelling against his family, their beliefs, their power, and pure blood society. 
The Potter family where an old and wealthy family, but where mostly content with a comfortable life in the “back waters” of wizarding society and weren’t concerned with blood purity. Even with a history of muggle and muggle born rights activists. I always read this as them being rather different. I kinda felt like we were dealing with a family that just passed down the value of “fuck society we do what we want.” Like I imagine them as eccentric inventors, cures breakers, adventurers, magizooologists, quidditch players, dragon handlers, aurors, and whatever else wild, exciting, fun thing one could think of. I definitely think that doing well (academically, career wise,etc) was important and considered valuable by them but for some reason I just seem like being a rather wild and free bunch. Definitely still approachable, kind, down to earth, kind, accessible, but worldly, fun, exciting, intense, passionate, adventures and excitement on legs.
hello! definitely no sorry needed, i love talking all things jfp 💜💜
i’m gonna be honest, i don’t actually see james as a rebel at all (with or without a cause). i see him as pretty much sticking to what’s expected of him in most cases (esp public) and only really going off the path when he’s with a trusted few. i definitely see where ur going and i love it! he’s definitely full of life and always, always happy to be trying new things. i often call him the sunshine kid and i’ll stick by it. i definitely think a large part of it comes from the confidence & high self esteem his parents instilled in him—he sees something and he goes for it, and this often ends up in him doing all these weird, adventurous, often dangerous things right? (i also think he has a large uhh what’s the word, adrenaline kink? nope, that’s not it. but u know what i mean right? the kind of person who loves extreme sports, for eg)
also lol love the hippie potters vibe you’re drawing here. (i also have this funny mental image of like, ridiculously wacky/eccentric potters and then comes james—a whole buttoned up, proper posh boy kid—and they’re (incl portraits) all just baffled like, how is he like this??? who gave him the stick up the arse?? like everyone else is dressed in the most mismatched, alternative fashion ever and then u have james in sweater vests and shorts and buttons downs)
i’m now also imagining harry learning all this about his family and it’s so !!!! like i’ve read a few fics that super focus on potter family history (one where they were like, military tacticians and super op fighters which was so good) and i love stuff like that! harry finding out that the potters were this bunch of crazy inventors & chose the most ridiculous professions and i feel like that would give him such a sense of freedom and relief and he’d definitely be next in line ykno?
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gible-art-nibles · 2 years
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Played a funny little game called Will You Snail yesterday and today, had some laughs, got slapped in the back of the head by its lore
Have a jerk AI “humanized” design
Taglist: @foggymud
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galariangengar · 2 years
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💭
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cornsnoot · 9 months
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tried to google search for that post that's like.. something about squids and it goes "the squirterrrrrrrrr" and believe it or not that did not show me the thing i was looking for
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sparklewhore · 28 days
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theoretically i need to be making smart adult decisions for this upcoming hocus pocus i am involved in. im reailty im just trying to find good monsterfucker fiction.
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sw33tsuccubus · 3 months
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𝒫𝑒𝓇𝒸𝓎 𝒥𝒶𝒸𝓀𝓈𝑜𝓃 boyfriend headcanons
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you’re best friends who kiss
likes kissing your cheek. it’s just where his lips go. if he’s excited, like after winning capture the flag, he kisses your lips and then gets all flustered. it’s like the first time all over again. gives you these big bear hugs that make you warm. nuzzles his face into your hair during these.
has been jumpscared by a bee before. maybe he jumped into your arms and shrieked. just maybe.
it’s rare the two of you can cuddle. camp is always so busy. whenever you can, though, it’s always so sweet. sometimes you lay on your back and he drapes an arm and leg over you, his head on your shoulder with his breath lightly tickling your neck. sometimes his arms lazily wrap around you, face in your hair, legs tangled together. occasionally he’ll spoon you while you cuddle one of his plushies.
speaking of his plushies. he has a few, and they’re all sea creatures. a crab, a squid, a shark, a clownfish, a seahorse, a dolphin. he’ll be offended if you think they’re silly.
kind of embarrassing. will brag you’re the best at something even if you’ve never done it. has an ‘i ❤️ my girlfriend/boyfriend/partner’ shirt.
you guys have bracelets of each others’ color schemes. there’s a charm related to your godly parent on there. the one he gave you is blue, and it has a trident charm.
he paints his nails with you. more often than not they’re royal blue, but sometimes he paints them your favorite colors. he’d love to match you, smiling at your hands whenever your fingers are intertwined and he can see.
smells like the sea naturally. he uses cologne and scented shampoo, but you can only smell them if he’s pressed against you.
leaves clothes at your cabin just so you can wear them. gets so giddy if you do. denies any accusations that he does it on purpose. he makes sure it’s always his favorite clothes too, so it smells just that much more like him since he wears them more.
when you start talking, he zones out of everything in the room. partly because he’s hyperfocusing, but also because he chooses you over anything else. maybe he has heart eyes. just maybe.
he’s into pda, but he listens to your boundaries. in love with holding your hands. he’s be a little disappointed if you wouldn’t let him but he’d understand.
has tried impressing you by flexing. yeah, he’s muscular, but it was so funny. he’s talking with a friend, sees you, and immediately shows off. please don’t laugh, he’ll cry about it.
he’s dramatic. pouts and whines if you laugh at him for being childish. pouts and whines if you don’t laugh at one of his jokes. pouts and whines if you don’t hang out with him at least three times a day.
asks to spar with you. he’ll hold back to see what you’re capable of and then match as best as he can. if he cuts you, he’s apologizing and almost screaming. if you cut him, he’s laughing it off and telling you he’s okay. it’s fine if that’s not your thing, though; you can watch him :) at first, you think he’s being egotistical when he offers, trying to show off, but it’s kind of cool to watch. he’s like a gymnast, or a figure skater. his motions are just so fluid.
he likes to go swimming at least once a week to keep himself grounded. if you don’t want to come, he’ll collect you something from underwater. a pretty rock, a seashell, some random ocean treasure. he’d be ecstatic if you came with him, though. picking you up and twirling you in the water and splashing water at you.
does not shut up. he lays there and yaps about his day with his head on your lap and your hands playing with his hair. tells you about his favorite movies while walking with you around camp. he complains about any inconveniences with his cheek pressed to the top of your head, his arms wrapped around you.
that being said, he’s also a great listener. he sits there and nods along, smiling and adding small quips where needed. if you need advice, don’t ask him!! no matter how much you love him, he gives terrible advice. he’s quite reckless.
he’s protective. not overly so, but he is. he’s watching over you during training, he’s worrying if you ever go on a quest without him, he’s standing up to anyone at camp or at school who says something about you. if you got injured during the Battle of Manhattan or the fight against Gaea, he would be very worried and so so mad. he would put everything at risk for you.
he gets jealous sometimes and it’s funny, seeing him pout and reach for your hand. he’ll gently laugh at you and tell you how he feels about you if you ever feel jealous.
dating him is an experience.
he has some mood swings. he’s normally a happy, funny guy, but sometimes he gets sad thinking about his past and all the friends he’s lost. he gets frustrated and angry sometimes, when things don’t go his way or if things start piling up.
if he’s upset, he tries to avoid you so that he doesn’t snap at you. once he’s feeling better, he’ll come to you and hug you, which lead to cuddles. he doesn’t say much when this happens. either it’s silent, or you can talk to him and he’ll listen to each word.
he’s such a sweetheart. he’s always thinking about what you prefer and your interests and he’s always trying to be a gentleman for you, though his silliness makes it funny.
he’s all in all a caring and sweet boyfriend.
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itislils2004 · 14 days
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Alr guys pt.2 of this, if I do more it'll be about Narinder, Lambam and Ratou. (no promises)
Here's another long rant of headcanons of my Shamura and Kallamar :) !
Heket and Leshy
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Summary:
As much as I like to joke about him, he's actually quite talented and meticulous. He prefers to not venture to spaces that could be remotely harmful to him (because he gets sick, really easily), unless the pros outweigh the cons. He's full of himself at times, but he does NOT have NPD (Narcissist Personality Disorder). Simply has a very strong sense of self, and absolutely hates being told what to do (even if it benefits him, and even if he already planned to do it).
He's also quite artistic and has an eye for things, despite not working for the cult he does take charge when organizing events and decorations. He's a perfectionist down to a fault, although he'd never force anyone to fit his criteria he's pushy about it at times.
Smaller character details:
Leshy has a lot of fun hanging out with Kallamar, and likewise for the squid. In fact, Kallamar often has him running errands for him or asks him for help whenever he's trying to make something or simply wants to rant.
Because of his nature to not go out much, he's rarely seen outside of events. But even then he leaves a marking impression on the flock due to his ability to multitask, and his talents.
Gets on well with the Lamb, in his head that is. He's super laid-back whenever he speaks to him. The feeling might not be mutual, but at least he cares for them, a bit.
Sozonius is also a close friend of his, but Leshy wins when it comes to who Sozonius feels more comfortable with, since they were friends even when he was parasite.
^ Either way, Sozonius helps him a lot during research or on the rare occasion they do go out (they both hate Anura, so there's no worries about one of them wanting to go there).
He refuses to learn ASL although he's partially deaf (unless The Lamb provides him better auditory capabilities, very much like Heket. This can be applied to all Bishops except Narinder.)
So whenever he cannot get a grasp on what's going on (although he's gradually getting better at reading lips) he has either Leshy or Heket to help him understand what's going on.
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Summary:
Quite the forgetful arachnid, ever since they got indoctrinated, it tends to slip their mind to ACTUALLY take care of themselves. Often forgetting to eat or to wear an extra layer since they can barely regulate their own body temperature. Heket and Kallamar always try their best to make sure they eat properly and not get sick. The lamb tries to do the same, but many times it is unsuccessful since they deviate from the matter at hand. They actually spend a lot of time with the Lamb, often talking sentences that do not have a coherence to it, or simply tales of the past that come unprompted. The Lamb makes little to no effort in stopping them, and allows them to do as they please.
Smaller character details:
context:
Because the lamb actually never really learned how to groom their wool (or simply able to shear it) it tends to get matted and heavy overtime. When that happens they simply unalived reseted themselves to come back to their form, because before they got executed, their wool got trimmed by heretics before getting sacrificed so that the axe would be able to do its job in one swing.
Thankfully though, Shamura (in their right mind) helps the Lamb, and maintains their fleece voluntarily. The lamb has no comment on this action. But they are one of the few people who lets them touch them to such an extent.
Shamura is no (morally speaking) monster, but they don't actually harbor any genuine affection for the Lamb outside of some pity. Their ministrations come from simply Shamura's nature, which leads to them helping the Lamb in minor ways or even offering comfort in little amounts. The lamb prefers it this way. They'd actually reject the help if it was in the name of "affection" or "pity".
However, they have a hard time understanding complex emotions and underlying meaning. They're very literal, but also have a way of explaining things through metaphors. It's their way of understanding complex things, by associating information they already know and molding it.
Loves making jokes!! They tend to be very old/unfunny but they still enjoy it. Narinder always plays along with the jokes and sometimes laughs at how bad they are. They also use a cane/walking stick with the form of a serpent, old relique.
Tries to help around the cult as well, but is often stopped if attempting too hard when it comes to manual labor. They're awfully tall which difficults things, and due to their complexion they have a hard time standing up on their own for a long period of time without the cane (walking normally that is). They do however, work a lot on clothes and such, with Kallamar sometimes helping on the sidelines.
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celaenaeiln · 2 months
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Was Dick ever mean to Jason when they first met? Because I’ve seen a lot of fanon where it’s implied/shown that he was, but I haven’t seen anything to prove that it’s canon (and I’m happy you’re back even though you weren’t gone long I love your blog)
Aww thank you!!
Ugh I don't know where fanon keeps getting the idea but Dick was never mean to Jason as Robin.
Let's start with the erased version, otherwise known as pre-crisis.
Jason Todd was born to acrobatic parents and also performed in the circus. Here's the interesting bit: it wasn't Bruce who found out about them, it was Dick who was at the circus and cheered them.
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Batman (1940) Issue #357
Where was Bruce? He was busy becoming squid food in Gotham.
Anyway Bruce escapes and meets up with Dick who is still Robin and helps him solve part of the crime. As he's discussing the case with Dick, Dick mentions that there may be a connection to Bruce's case and something Trina Todd said.
Yup! Dick becomes friends with Jason's mom <3
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Batman (1940) Issue #358
Bruce doesn't trust her but Dick does and Bruce trusts Dick so he accepts.
So Dick goes to meet Trina and her husband but they've already left to sneak into the villain's lair and get caught by Killer Croc. So he chases after them. Barbara joins in as Batgirl but Batgirl and Robin are too late because Killer Croc has already fed Joe and Trina to crocodiles.
Batman's still fighting his own case while all this is happening.
Waldo the Clown takes Jason to the manor and while Jason's in the kitchen looking for food, he finds the door behind the grandfather clock open, goes inside, and finds the batcave.
He finds a trunk of Dick's old suits as Robin and that's where the iconic pre-crisis Jason Robin scene comes -
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Detective Comics (1937) Issue #526
Which first of all Jason why are you wearing other people's clothes without their permission? But anyway Jason hears people coming and finds Batman's busy grabbing information with Selina and so he hides in the trunk of the Batmobile. Robin Dick and Batgirl solve the case on their end and find out there's a trap for Batman so they come in and save Batman and his allies. Jason sneaks out of the car and finds his parents are dead so he tries to kill Killer Croc but Dick and Barbara stop him.
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Detective Comics (1937) Issue #526
Dick's just like "oh, you sweetheart."
Dick wants to adopt him but Bruce is like mine because they're both like "It's my fault his parents died, I should take responsibility."
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Detective Comics (1937) Issue #526
Dick was really nice to Jason.
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Batman (1940) Issue #529
Dick is Jason's idol. He and Dick have a great relationship, so much so that Dick actually passes on the Robin name and suit to Jason.
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Batman (1940) Issue #529
I could make a meme out of the handshake scene with Bruce being one hand and Jason being the other and in the middle the hands meet is "idolizing Dick Grayson".
So Dick and Jason had a fantastic relationship.
And then some things happen where this Jason wasn't well-recieved by the audience because of the way writers handled the transition from Dick's robin to Jason's so DC realized that they need to make Jason into his own person with his own personality, looks, and story.
So they magic marker erased the previous timeline and now we have the actual Jason Todd that's actually relevant to every comic that comes after.
Yet in this current timeline too, Dick treated Jason sweetly.
Here Dick's first meeting with Jason, he actually saves Jason from the hands of drug dealers.
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Batman (1940) Issue #416
He let go of his hiding spot to get the new Robin out of trouble.
Jason is not at all happy about this.
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Batman (1940) Issue #416
And Dick's pissed off because he found out there's a new Robin through a newspaper and he just lost a drug deal he's been waiting on to bailout the new Robin.
So Dick storms off and Jason asks Bruce about Nightwing
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Batman (1940) Issue #416
And I'm going to reiterate parts of this post for this part (people please please read this post because tumblr has an image limit and I've explained it in detail there but I can't here)
Dick had no idea Bruce passed on the Robin costume. He finds out through the newspaper because Bruce is pissed at Dick. Like he's so mad that when he told Dick to leave, Dick actually left.
You know how there's a saying about not being able to take back words of anger? Bruce is feeling that heavily. He already had suspicions that Dick wanted to leave but before Dick could tell him, he fired him so he wouldn't have to hear those words. But Bruce is super mad that Dick left anyway. So what does he do? He makes the first boy he sees Robin.
And Jason finds out Dick was Robin when he confronts Bruce why Nightwing knows Bruce's identity. And that gets Bruce more mad because he's now feeling guilty which is when Dick comes to confront Bruce.
After meeting Bruce, Dick talks about what he's been up to since he left and put Bruce in a good mood before he starts tearing into him.
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Batman (1940) Issue #416
Bruce looks so wrecked. The guilt and sorrow is tantamount to his pain.
Then Dick asks Bruce why he choose someone new.
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Batman (1940) Issue #416
So Bruce tells him. But Dick and Bruce's relationship go way deeper than just friends or family. They know each other. They revolve around each other so Dick calls him out, and out comes the truth
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Batman (1940) Issue #416
But here's what it means in terms of Dick and Jason's relationship:
Instead of letting Jason become some sort of spite move, Dick becomes the bigger man and decides to turn Robin into a legacy.
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Batman (1940) Issue #416
He passes it down like it was meant to be passed down. Because let's be honest here. The Robin name and costume is Dick's. If he wanted to, he could've taken it back, Bruce be damned. And that was one of Jason's fears.
It's Dick's approval of Jason and them catching the drug dealers together at the end that cements Jason as Robin. It's his acceptance and good will toward Jason that Bruce is grateful for.
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Batman (1940) Issue #416
Dick also validates and praises Jason in the comics whenever they meet.
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The New Teen Titans (1984) Issue #31
He's basically, "Don't worry about Bruce, if you get in trouble, I'll take care of it."
The only problem is they didn't meet a lot but when they did it was good times all around.
The third version of Dick and Jason's meeting.
In this version holy honking heck. First of all it's a flashback when Bruce fires Dick because he feels like he's too busy with other duties to be with Batman and then after a series of events in present time, it shows that Bruce literally kidnapped Jason and gagged and tied him to a chair. And Alfred's like WTH BRUCE?!
Even more things happen on both sides (curse you 30-image per post tumblr limit) and Bruce essentially makes Jason watch all the videos of Dick and sets Jason's gauntlet test to be a game of tag with Dick.
Dick is completely unaware of all this happening because he's just having fun busting up thugs and playing with Barbara, having no clue that Bruce and Jason are literally watching him livestream through his bike dash cam.
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Nightwing (1996) Issue #105
Jason literally shows up while Dick's pondering on a rooftop and is like who're you? Oh wait you're him lol. Move over there's a new robin in town! And Dick's just like WHAT?! He such a little shit about it.
Dick's immediately like okay I'm upset at Bruce but I have to help this new kid out. There's no hesitation, no regret, no anger towards Jason at all. Just pure desire to see him succeed.
Not gonna lie, Jason's just awful towards Dick because he thinks that Dick is his test or something Dick's just like, "can you cool it for a sec?" They soon find out about a huge crime drug activity going on and Dick sorta mentors Jason through it while on the case. I'm not gonna include the panels but it's just Dick and Jason working together. It's fun to read and cute because Dick's protective of him and Jason's like a little bird following a bigger scarier one.
At the end the crime is solved, Jason and Alfred go home, and Dick calls Bruce to tell him this -
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Nightwing (1996) Issue #106
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Nightwing (1996) Issue #106
He was so, so nice to Jason. Actually it's impossible for anyone to treat Jason better than Dick treated him, not even Bruce was this nice to Jason.
In Nightwing (2016) Annual, there's another story of Dick and Jason's meeting. In this case Dick comes over after Alfred calls him and Jason's sulking in his room because Bruce grounded him. He pulls Jason away and they go on a Nightwing and Robin adventure where Dick talks to him, teaches him, and lifts his spirits.
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Nightwing (2016) 2021 Annual
Dick being mean to Jason is pure fanon, it's so fanon that there isn't even a single comic panel that can be used in support of that horrible idea. He never ignored Jason. Dick makes it very, very clear that his problems are with Bruce won't interfere with his relationship with Jason. He treats Jason as an independent person with his own personality and genuinely looks after and cares for him in every retelling. The only thing is they didn't meet very often but when they did, Dick was such a good brother.
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chronurgy · 3 months
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God act 3 can be a truly insane series of events for Durge. You find out that you're a Bhaalspawn, something widely hated and reviled. Your companions assure you that you can still choose to do good. Then boom, oopsie, you weren't good at all! Turns out you were Bhaal's Chosen and you started the whole Absolute plot. Oh and also, the guy who sold Karlach, the tyrant running the city, yeah he was your bestie and quite possibly your lover and he's soooo happy to see you! He also has the fun news for you that Orin, your sister Orin, has replaced one of your new buds and is lurking in your camp just waiting to slip a knife between your ribs. So you do everything to track down the temple of Bhaal and follow a bunch of dwarves in red who run around the city murdering people and cutting off their hands for the way in. And once you find it, you go racing through the sewers to save your friend and meet Sarevok, who gives you shit for not having kids! Then finally you make it to the temple and fight your last family member. After which you either take up your old place as chosen of Bhaal and commit to ruling the world in his name or you reject him, die, and get brought back to life by your fucking ominous camp skeleton!
And then, after all that, that very night while you're still trying to process it all? The squid tries to fuck you
Durge after this extremely insane 2-3 day period that completely changes everything they know about themself and their place in the world AND the mindflayer tries to hit:
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thecherrygod · 2 years
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Why does my brain create city patterns and mostly just downtown places so i can them around them in dreams I've been in those streets some dreams ago I'm sure it was the same structure and some of the same places had the same names
Like some dreams ago i was like "oh that place sells ropes" and last night's dream i actually needed rope so i went there?
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aethelwyneleigh27 · 6 months
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Cod Characters General Dating Headcanons (part three)
+ Random and Some bits of Chubby Fem S/O Headcanons with mentions of different nationality S/O
+ What type of BF/GF they would be
Including König, Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin, Keegan P. Russ, Philip Graves (+ some headcanons including the Shadows), Makarov
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Fem terms and pronouns like she/her are used for the reader
ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ
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My rules for requests and characters I can write for
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A/n: I tried so hard to get this one out in time with the other but my other wips are getting to me 😭. I posted twice today just to feed y'all ahaha.
Disclaimers/warnings: Typical Cod things, OOC characters???, Unrealistic, Some suggestive themes and language, I'm so sorry but English is not my first language so please don't come after me. Most of the content I've seen are on TikTok and Tumblr I don't actually play the game but I love the characters so much, same with any other content I have for other video games.
Tiny sidenote: the reader in this has been describe to be shorter than the characters and has been mentioned to have a soft body rather than the muscular type.
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König
ꕥ (PLEASE DON'T COME AFTER ME, I DON'T KNOW ANY GERMAN AND I'M USING GOOGLE TRANSLATE)
ꕥ Speaking of König, I don't think this man is the shy boy that some people is making him out to be (not that he doesn't have that side at all, I just feel like they make it his whole personality). Based on voice lines alone this man is cocky asf.
ꕥ There's a reason for his mask, yes he was bullied as a child because of his looks and that's one of the causes to his social anxiety but that doesn't mean this mf is shy. He just like to avoid people and social interactions yk. (Y'all have no idea how much I can relate to this)
ꕥ Has and will continue to use his height to his advantage, someone bothering you while you're both sat having a wonderful time together? This mf stands the fuck up, shoulders back, chest out and everything. Looming over that person while glaring down, arms crossed while they're engulfed by the shadow of this 6'10 behemoth of a man.
ꕥ Chubby!Reader? He'll throw you over his shoulders, only using one arm below your ass while he carries you off. Seriously it is no problem to this man, he'd beg you to sit on his face and suffocate him. If anything I'd say he has a preference for it yk, very soft and plush reader for real.
ꕥ Our DIY king here wearing a shirt for a hood, his hair sticking out of the hole for the head whenever he's dressing casual. Play with his hair like right now, you'll make him melt right then and there.
ꕥ Enjoys cuddling, hasn't had many partners and by that I mean kinda none. Nobody was insane enough to approach him till you came around so he's very touch starved. He didn't even know he enjoyed touching that much till he was able to feel the amount of warmth your body gives him. He'd swear on his life that he was intoxicated in that moment.
ꕥ Whenever you sit or straddle on his lap, he's still so fucking tall. I swear you will gain neck pains if you wanna keep eye contact while talking to him. (I understand the struggle, I am a 5'1 girly. Every character I know within the CoD universe is taller than me 😭)
ꕥ Doesn't actually wear his mask around you, he's comfortable and trust you enough to know you wouldn't go around telling everyone what he looks like.
ꕥ Nicknames he'd call you in German are Mein Schatz, Fräulein, Liebling, Engel and Kleine Maus
ꕥ He's still definitely bitter about not being a sniper. (AHAHAHA)
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Kim "Horangi" Hong-jin
ꕥ (IF I'M BEING HONEST, I DID NOT EXPECT HIS VOICE TO BE THAT DEEP. ALSO HIS VOICE LINES IN KOREAN/HANGUL (IDK WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT)
ꕥ He has doodles on his tactical gear that he did himself (there are also one that are a tribute to squid game because man's had a gambling addiction), has asked you to draw on it too and he proudly wears it when on duty. Will feel stupid while unconsciously smiling if you draw a heart.
ꕥ Writing something down on his vest from your own mother tongue and he's asking the meaning, if it's genuinely something good like a compliment or something like "I love you" then you will catch this man with a shit eating grin.
ꕥ He used to be a gambler before entering the military and it eventually got him to stop, though he still has a thing for risk, he got himself a more deadlier alternative.
ꕥ Expect surprise back hugs, this man isn't called Horangi for nothing. He's stealthy, I like to think that whatever he says to you is well thought out as well. Man knows how to think before he speaks.
ꕥ Horangi likes to pounce on things, just for the fun of it. It leads him to tackle you on your shared bed a lot, lots of play fighting too.
ꕥ HAS THE PRETTIEST EYES EVER. Like seriously, the only people who knows what he looks like is you and König. Had gentle eyes, you know that quote "His eyes softened", yeah that's the definition of his eyes.
ꕥ Loves it when you trace the veins on his arms with your finger nails, will just straight up offer his arm to you.
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Keegan P. Russ
ꕥ This man and his panty dropping voice like holy hell I have never heard a voice as deep as his without a vocal fry (from those try hard guys on TikTok who try to hard thinking their thirst traps are good).
ꕥ Calls you "kid" in an affectionate way? It's honestly just what he calls anyone younger than him, you're shorter? He'll emphasize on that shit. Elaborating on the nickname I said earlier, he uses it less when y'all are dating but still does on some occasions.
ꕥ Would say the most dirty and uncalled for things, whispering it in your ears. He's and asshole in the best way possible, loves it when you gasp and playfully slap his chest.
ꕥ He's sweet though, would see you as his wife even if you're not married. You're his now, the moment you entered his life, he basically had a death grip on you.
ꕥ Something tells me that he likes talking about you or to you through radios yk. His voice sounding even deeper through the device, calling you doll even though he's supposed to refer to you with your call sign.
ꕥ Praise kink? I mean you've more likely heard his voice lines, is the type of man to praise you and ruffle your hair, either that or he'll kiss you depending on what stage of your relationship you are both in.
ꕥ Constantly thinks his eyes are weird even though they aren't, he just has sleepy eyes. Speaking of sleeping, I feel like he has such a fucked up sleeping schedule and is used to pulling all nighters more than the normal person.
ꕥ Will drag you in bed though and lay his whole weight on top of you because you ain't going nowhere, you are staying there with him and only him.
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Philip Graves
ꕥ (If it isn't "Fix It Felix", please tell me I'm not the only one who sees it AHAHAHA)
ꕥ Philip is touchy, somebody for the love of everything that is holy cuddle this man please. He is just screaming at any type of physical contact at this point. (My sources? Right fucking here)
ꕥ Is the type of boyfriend to come home to you and just hug you, y'all would be there for a solid 10 minutes before he lets you go. Burying his head into your neck and just inhaling your scent while having his arms wrapped tightly around you.
ꕥ His Shadows? More like his fucking children, again going back to the TikTok. He knows how to get their attention, the little pats on the shoulder and small praises are his way of saying they did a good job and they're eating it up.
ꕥ That being said, you are either gonna be their mother figure or someone they enjoy protecting because their dad is so fond of you. Why not be both right?
ꕥ You cannot tell me this man won't be next to the grill, spatula, tongs or whatever kitchen utensil in one hand and a cold bottle of beer in the other.
ꕥ Spends his weekends with you on his lap while he watches football in your guys' couch, you're definitely scrolling on your phone during this.
ꕥ You cannot tell me this man doesn't wear cowboy hats and boots because he certainly does, is it a turn on or a turn off? I genuinely do not know..
ꕥ Is fruity on some aspects but would never fucking admit it..
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Makarov
ꕥ Y'ALL ACTUALLY THOUGHT I'D WRITE FOR THIS MAN? NAH THIS ACC IS WHOLESOME (OR ANGSTY) AND ION THINK THIS MAN IS SALVAGEABLE. (This came from a girl who once was obsessed with Tom Riddle for years when she was 13, I recovered from it dw)
ꕥ This man would literally use anyone and anything as leverage for whatever he wants to achieve. (Yes I am one of those "I can fix him" people but damn idk if this man is fixable)
ꕥ Please don't tell me you actually genuinely think this man would be good to you.. I knew what I was writing was unrealistic but damn y'all are delulu on another level (so am I, stay delulu). Jokes aside I love y'all and he's one of the few I won't write for. (AHEM Severus Snape (that greasy mop haired mf)
ꕥ And yes I understand most of my shit are kind of OOC but damn if I wrote him, it would be extremely fucking far from canon and I don't like romanticizing toxic relationships (if I ever do write it, it will be angst and I can't ever promise a happy ending).
ꕥ Happy April fool's! (I know I'm posting this end of September (it's actually October now 😭)
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undercoverpena · 1 year
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yours to keep
johnny 'soap' mactavish x f!reader
wordcount: 4.6k || dedicated to @guyfieriii an: teensy smut, fluff, banter, friends-to-lovers babeh summary: You’re in a dress. Your legs are fucking out. His throat all of sudden dry, suddenly unable to focus on anything—hand grasping his glass, the ice clinging and clanging against it. Then your eyes land on him. The rest of the room faded to nothing. He can feel his cheeks warm, his smile beginning to rise—all of it natural, all of it without thought.  other soap work.
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“Why’d they call ya, Squid?” “‘Cause I’m tiny and can swim well.” “Seriously?” You smirked. “No. I kinda… maybe took out a room full of people with a knife. Nothing really. Just… My old Lieutenant said I must have had eight arms or something. So, Squid.” He watches as she looks down. “They tried Octo and Pus for a day, but… realised even within the military, the latter bordered on an HR complaint.” “Steamin’ Jesus.” 
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Soap remembers when the rumours swirled about you and Gaz. 
The two of you were—and are—just good friends. He knows that, believes it, even. He knows there’s nothing but innocence when Gaz’s arm is slung over your shoulders, pulling an easy laugh from you—even if you were bruised and covered in blood, dirt and whatever else. You both knew one another—the only two out of the whole 141 that did—before it was formed. 
It didn't matter how good you were, the whispers still followed. They pricked at you. Soap remembers how you’d dip your head when you passed certain tables in the mess. How you only walked a little taller if you were with him, Ghost or Gaz. 
Now, the rumours were about you and him. 
The two of you having shifted and changed. One minute work colleagues, and then two people who’d needed the other for body heat. He hadn’t meant for the jokes to flow when the only thing that separated the two of you was underwear. But, your eyes had been shimmering, surrounded by snow tinting your lashes. Your beauty was apparent to him before, but harder to ignore when he looked down at you close to him. 
“You d’this with all the boys, lass?”  “No. Just ones from Scotland, it seems.” 
Truthfully, he’d thought you were stunning the moment he first saw you. But, there’s something about seeing the specks in someone’s eyes that makes things feel more intense. Been given the rare chance to study each angle of your cheeks, nose and brows—the way your lips curl when he makes a joke you clearly don’t want to laugh at. Letting him commit you all to memory, in case he never got a moment quite like it again.
Then evac rescued you both, and he half-expected things to go back to how they were. 
But they didn’t. 
The two of you remaining close, flirtatious banter flowing even in a room full of people. He thought you’d be less bothered, but you were more riled by the rumours. Especially at the beginning—when they first began—making your head dip, fists clenching and your eyes struggle to meet his. 
Now, he’s sure you lean into them, practically desperate for someone to dare egg you on so you can tell them he blows your back out. 
Not that he’s had the chance. But, fuck, would he. 
He’d do more than that given half a chance. Not just because you’re beautiful, not just because you make him laugh—but because you make his whole fucking heart soar. You make him better without doing anything, easily able to pull the good parts of him out. 
It had all been gradual, having crept up on him. The way you’ve embedded yourself into his thoughts. 
At first, it was in admiration at your hand-to-hand, the way you use your smaller frame to bend and twist. Then it was because you let your hair down, your head bent back, and your neck all exposed. The dark and dingy inn is full of weightless laughter and thudding music in some country far from home. Gaz pouring a clear bottle directly into your mouth. The way your eyes hit the light and how big your smile was when you stood straight, doing something instantly to him. Making him almost cross the short distance and wipe the vodka from your chin and lips with his tongue. 
Before, you were just Squid. 
Now, you’re more than that. 
You’re paradise and perfect days—and a messy bunch of emotions and snark he hates being away from.
Has been since you let him call you a nickname he’d only ever heard Gaz use and Gaz alone. He’d tried it, tested it, rolled it around on his tongue before he even said it to you. Almost having said it at the inn, when your eyes were glazed and your tongue loose. But, he’d waited—wanting you alone, all to himself so he could watch your reaction. 
See if he’d earnt calling it you. 
“Mari.”
“You know that's not my name, right?”
Your face having turned, the slyest smirk on your face. 
And he had hoped you don’t know he’s been working up to saying it. Almost getting lost in the odd twinkle of your eyes.
He knows, down the path of whatever the two of you become—if anything—this would be the moment he realised he liked you, liked you. That he imagined, for a brief fucking moment, that there could be a future. 
“Oh? Aye? Heard Gaz call it y’… just assumed.”
Shrugging, you stabbed your food again, a soft laugh escaping the air, blessing the space between them. “No, no, no. But it’s okay, you can call it me too. I mean, we did share some floorboards and a ratty blanket, the least I can do to thank you for keeping me warm.” 
He can’t even remember what he wanted to ask. The image of you against him—slightly shivering, eyes staring into his as your hand clutched his back—at the forefront. 
Everything else had vanished, stolen from his mind. Plucked by your beautiful eyes and brain-wiping smile. 
“What is your name?” 
“You know that’s classified, Johnny.”
“You know mine.” 
You had shrugged again, smirking. “If you keep letting me steal your fries, I might let you know.” 
He pushed the rest of his plate towards you, “Y’got it, lass.” 
“Why you want it so bad?” 
He leaned close, even if the rest of the mess hall wasn’t listening—not even paying attention. “Just be nice t’know what t’call y’when I’m fake blowin’ yur back out.” 
Your eyes met his. 
Time all of a sudden frozen. His own flicking from your eyes to the rest of your face, watching, waiting. The two of you have been towing this line so well, recently; dancing on the line of will-they-won’t-they flirtation. And sometimes, he’s not sure if he’s gone too far—if they’ve gone too far. 
So he hopes for a message. One from your face directly—cause it can never lie. 
And he sees it, a twitch of your lips, a slight narrowing of your eyes, before you steal another one of his fries, and bring it to your lips. 
“You’d learn it quicker if you actually blew my back out, Johnny-boy. I’d be like putty in your fuckin’ hands,” you had said, soft, sultry, and so low it took him a moment to realise what you’d just said. 
And then, like all good moments, it broke—Lt appearing, looming over the table. 
Since then—when shit really hits the fan—he seeks you without question. Your eyes land on him, instantly knowing—as if he’s a book and you already know all of his pages. 
When it’s you, he knows from the way your shoulders are sunk, the clear need to be held being written into each muscle. Mostly, it’s the dullness sitting in your eyes. Usually, they sparkle. Not quite a disco ball, but something close to it. When they shine bright, they make the darker days easier and the good days that bit better.   
He won’t admit it to anyone, but he loves having your head on his chest. For a moment able to dream—think—of a time when you’d be here for reasons not so sad. That you’d be here because it’s the two of you, against it all. 
Not just as friends. 
As something so much more. 
Then you leave before he wakes, the reminder it’s not quite that yet, feeling something close to a blade making tiny cuts—not enough to bleed him dry, but enough to make it sting, singe and ache. 
He really does hate the rumours—mainly because he wishes they were true.
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“If you could eat anything for breakfast, what would you choose?”  “Gotta b’ a Scottish brekkie, ain’t it?”  “Streaky bacon?”  “Aye. Not a brekkie without it.”  “I guess.” “Y’not a fan?”  “Prefer cock for breakfast, if I’m honest.” “Fuckin’ hell, Mari.” “What? You forgot for a moment you’ve been stabbed, mission accomplished.” 
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It’s rare. Unusual. 
The whole lot of you crammed in a bar, never mind some small pub in Manchester. Even more unexpected that it was booked out—a specific request for the group of you to bask in the success of the last mission. The one which had taken weeks—stole more from you all than you’d known you could give. 
It had been hard. Long. Difficult. 
So many more words he couldn’t quite think. But in all of it there were moments, tiny fragments he clutched onto. You seek him out, your face sunken and sad, burying your head into his chest as you hold onto him for what felt like hours. Him on a rooftop, staring out into the dark with Ghost, the two mindlessly talking, thinking, and planning, before he asks him where he wishes he could be. 
Now, as he sips his first drink, he replays it. Smiling to himself, because while Lt didn’t say this place, he suspects the name he whispered belonged to the person behind the bar. The one who keeps side-eyeing him, the occasional half-smile gracing their mouth. 
He takes another sip as he thinks of you. 
You who Soap had watched lose sleep. Finding you huddled over a map or screen with Gaz, low whispers, reluctance to rest. Using the few free hours of any given day to train—needing to be better. 
You didn’t ask him—or even Gaz—you’d asked Ghost. 
It ate at him. Chipped away. 
Soap blamed the lack of sleep for where his mind went. Using the same time stuffing down his jealousy over the fact you didn’t ask him. The wallowing peppered with thoughts of being inadequate, making his jaw clench, making him unravel just that bit more. 
In a way, they were all protective of you—not that any of them needed to be. But, it wasn’t something bizarre, out of character. It was something they all felt, tied together by the simple fact they’d come to care for the five-foot-something Squid. 
Even with that, he knows he feels something more. 
It’s been churning, twisting and transforming inside of him for weeks—months. His heart almost leapt from his chest when he thought you were in the building he’d watched being blown up. The compass he relies on to keep him north, disintegrating, dark shadows coming down around his eyes until he sees you emerge from smoke and flames—without your pissing helmet. 
Y’know how to scare me, lass.  Keeping you on your toes, Soapie. 
Now, he’s waiting for you. Paying attention to the hands on his watch—side-eyeing the door until it opens, blasting in cold, Gaz leading you in. 
And—
Fuck. Shit. Bollocks. 
You’re in a dress. 
Your legs are fucking out. 
His throat all of a sudden dry, suddenly unable to focus on anything—hand grasping his glass, the ice clinging and clanging against it. 
Then your eyes land on him. The rest of the room faded to nothing. He can feel his cheeks warm, his smile beginning to rise—all of it natural, all of it without thought. 
Punctuating it all is the soft lulls of Friday I’m In Love playing as he takes the moment to truly drink you in. It feels like minutes, maybe an hour—and he isn’t going to squander it for a second…
And then you blink, stepping up to the bar. 
“Hi, could I order—wait, you are beautiful,” you say to the woman behind the bar—your eyes staring at her. 
Gaz steps in, apologising, but all he’s focusing on is you. 
You’re here. 
Looking every inch radiant from head to fucking toe.  
And he needs another drink. He needs a shot. 
He needs…
A fucking hope and a prayer because he’s not sure if he can pocket his feelings anymore—unsure if stuffing them down will go well with alcohol, bitterness, and the smoothest scotch he’s had in ages. 
So he orders another. 
And three drinks down, and Soap is sitting across from you. A wobbly table between you both, your elbow leaning on it, rocking it from side to side occasionally. 
The scent of fusty ale and brass having faded, swapped for a floral perfume and the elements of his drink. 
You’re focused, even with slightly glazed eyes, on the bar—on the others behind the two of you. Likely on the girl behind the bar, the one you keep staring at—the one who keeps shooting Ghost smiles. 
And he’s jealous. 
He’s jealous because he’s wondering if you’re jealous.
If you want him—your two’s Lieutenant. The one who trained you, sparred with you, and made you go to sleep. 
“C'mon, lass. Desert island, who’d y’want with you?” 
“It’s her.” 
“Wha—?”
You blink, staring at him—your glass in hand as you shake your head. “What?” 
“Who’s ya best friend, lass?”
Your hands play with your glass, spinning it on the wooden table—the one with chipped and glass rings all over its mahogany surface, “From that, I’m guessing you’re hoping it’s you.”
“It’s not?”
“No.”
His throat dries. 
Suddenly realising he shouldn’t have pushed this button. Not sure his frame of mind can even take it. Alcohol bubbling in his stomach, his throat—
“Who then?” 
“Gaz. Obviously.
“Why is tha’obvious?”
“He lives closer.” 
“Is that wha’ makes a friendship, then?”
“Well, my best friend wouldn’t willingly choose to live further away from me, would they?” 
He smiles, realising you’re pulling his leg. Winding him up. Teasing him. 
“Don’t you live closer to, Lt?” 
Leaning closer, you take a purposeful sip, staring him down. Searing down to the core. “Yes, but he can’t be my best friend.” 
Tell me why. Tell me it’s me. 
Choose me. Pick me. 
His heart thumping more, almost in beat with the song. Thump. Thump. Thump. It almost rises up, almost in his throat, pounding against the space he needs to breathe through.
“And, why’s that?” 
You drain your glass, clanking it down. “I can’t be best friends with someone who calls me ‘Squidlet’, Soap. It’s demeaning enough that I let him call me that, never mind rewarding him for it by giving him more of my awesome personality. He can be third in line.” 
And it sinks. 
That feeling. The hope. The want. 
“Well,” he says, quickly. “Ah, I’m glad y’pulled y’self away from Lt to drink with me then, ya fourth.”
“What?”
“Nothin’”
Your hand clutches his arm, stopping him from raising his own glass. “Tell me.” 
“Yur’ always wit ‘im. Before. Could n’va find ya.”
“Who? Gaz?”
“Nah, Lt.”
Inwardly, he cringes. Hating the alcohol, hating how it makes his tongue loose in his head. Letting all of it, each festering feeling, bubble to the surface. 
Because you’re more than his friend. 
You’re so much more. 
“Johnny… it… we were just sparring.”
“Yea, it’s alright—“
“Wait. Are you jealous?”
“No!”
He doesn’t mean to snap. 
Your eyes stare at him, hand dropping from his arm as you slowly reel back. And then you stand, and he inwardly pleads for you to sit. 
Please, Lass. Please. 
Your mouth opening, words all set to be spat, but then you shake your head, walking until you’re out of his sight—the cold draft on his back is enough of an indication of where you've gone. 
Leaving him with a choice. 
One that begins to grow inside of him as the song begins. One he’s heard already, but now it feels different. It’s motivating, it’s making him down his drink, slamming it back down. 
It’s making him stand, turning, watching the other three men staring at him, two with a knowing smile, one with a knowing stare. Even the woman—he doesn’t know the name, who he’s sure is fucking Ghost—leans against the pumps has that look. 
And he knows.
Like they all do. 
His feet move him to the door as Price grabs him around the forearm. “So, the rumours true, or?” 
“Aye, well ther’ about to be, sir.”
“That so?”
“Yeah… I’d apologise, but, excuse me.”
It’s cold. 
That’s what he thinks first when he steps outside. Eyes adapting to the dark, to the mist from the rain—letting the bitter feeling coat his bones. The dread, the fucking ache caused by even letting you go. 
He pleads. 
Hopes, too. 
Please don’t have left, lass. 
Scanning, looking, and then he hears it. Pacing—pacing that he knows so well it’s burned into his brain. Finding you, watching you down the side of the alleyway, turning to face him as you stop, hands flexing at your side as you stare at him. 
“You’re very annoying.” 
“Aye, probably,” he says, stepping closer. “But, that’s cause y’drive me crazy, and I canne’ stop thinkin’ bout ya. And then, your wir’ him and…” 
Your eyes roll, strands of hair sticking to your face. “Oh, shut up. You know it’s you. You know I like you. You have to.”
“Do I?”
“Yes. Because it’s woven neatly between my faux-contempt and sarcasm.”
“Well, y’can probably see how I may have missed that, ay?”
“Not really. I think it’s pretty obvious. Personally. I don’t share a bed with Gaz. And I’m not standing outside as it fucking pelts it down in a ridiculously thin dress because I like British weather. I’m stood out here because the guy who is my best friend, and that I’m pretty sure I could be in love with, is being a dickhead.”
Staring, he steps closer, watching you fold your arms. “Y’in love with me?”
“Of course, that’s the part you heard.”
“Mari—“
You cut him off, not just with your eyes, but with your words. “I mean, as big as Ghost is, it’s not him I ask to lie in bed with after a difficult mission. It’s not him that I go to when I need to smile or laugh. Fuck, I only chose him for sparring because he doesn’t go easy on me, and… and I can’t have you thinking you need to save me.”
“I don’t—“
“—but you do. You practically ripped up Urzikstan to find me.”
“Cause y’were ambushed, lass. Not cause I dunna think y’can handle y’self. Shittin’ Jesus, I know y’can. Y’terrify me because I canne’ lose you. Not cause I dunna think y’can do it.”
It sits there. 
His words. Yours. The two of them ferment, shifting. The space between the two of you gets smaller until his hand is on your cheek, and yours is on his waist, and he wants nothing more than to close the gap. To kiss you. To taste the drinks you’ve been sipping from your lips. 
But he pauses. 
Needing to capture this, the two of you. 
“Soap…”
“Yea’, Mari…” 
He watches you swallow, how your eyes flick from his own to his mouth. “I’d be lost without you, Johnny.” 
He’s not sure who moves first. You, or him. 
But you taste like sweetness and alcohol—your lips cold against him, tinged with the droplets from the sky. Your perfume envelops him, swirling with his, making a concoction of something he thinks he wants to bottle. You and him. A scent he’s both never smelt before and yet had been craving as his hand slides around your cheek—clutching you close as he feels your hands dig into his waist. 
You moan against him, soft, low, almost vibrating through him. Your soft, fucking lips and he slides his tongue against your teeth, and he almost loses his goddamn mind. 
Because it’s happening. 
And he doesn’t want it to slip through his fingers. Not now, not ever. Moving you, as you suddenly begin guiding him, his back against the wall of the pub. 
For a moment, he stops, and then your fingers crack open his belt. The sound loud, so loud, in the silence of the night and the rain making puddles. Your mouth capturing his, your hand sliding down the space and nestle of hair between his stomach and cock. Your hand wraps around him, and it’s…  
More than he thought it could be. 
Even more so when you stroke him, pumping him with your hand, eliciting a groan as he feels your grip tighten, teeth rolling over your bottom lip as you slowly lower to your knees in front of his very eyes. 
“Fuck, Mari. Y’dont even know what y’do to me.” 
“I can feel it, if that helps.”
“Ay, behave.”
Your tongue clicks against the roof of your mouth, lips practically touching the head of his cock as your breath dances over the tip. 
“Make me, Johnny.”
He blinks. 
Stares. 
And then your mouth is around him, taking him into your warm fucking mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip of him. And it’s everything. The image of it alone almost makes him come down your throat until it hits him—
“What the fuc—“ you snap.
His hand dragging you off him, up onto your feet. 
“No girl o’mine is suckin’ me off on her knees in this shite weather.” 
Your lips part, rendered silent as you just stare. “Your girl?”
“Aye, if you want to be?” 
Just the wind blowing down the alleyway, your perfume hitting his nose like it has done all night. Scratching the back of his brain, coaxing him closer with its scent-filled fingers. 
“Did you… did you just stop me from sucking you off?” 
“Aye.” 
“Fuckin’ hell, you love me, you love me back...” 
He runs his tongue over his teeth. Because fuck, he kinda does, but, also, fuck. 
“This fuckin’ dress—“ he groans instead, turning you, pressing your back against brick as you smirk. “—that fuckin’ smile.” 
You clutch his waist as he winds his hand up your thigh, his belt clattering against his legs as his trousers slide down. “All for you, Johnny.” 
“Steamin’ Jesus, Mari. Call me that again,—“
And then you say your name. 
Surrendering it, presenting to him. It’s the best thing he’s ever been given. It almost mingles with your breath, it’s that silent. The only evidence of you speaking it is the wisps of your exhale swirling with the air. 
He rolls it around his mind, as he did with your nickname, and then he says it as he slips his fingers under the band of your lace. Sliding two inside of you, groaning at the feel of you—of how much you want him. Not Simon. Not Gaz. Him. 
“Only you,” you say, all breathy, eyes closed. 
As if you can read his thoughts. Like you’re living in his fucking head. 
“Only ever you.” 
“Fuckin’ hell.” 
Your eyes open, lust boldly staring at him as he finds that spot—the one which makes you grip his shoulder, nails digging in through his shirt. 
And he’s going to ruin you. He’s going to fuck you until neither of you can take anymore. 
He promises it to you with each stroke of his fingers inside you, each ghostly kiss he gives you as you chant his name and he catches each one. 
He will. But not here. 
That’s what hotels are for. 
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“Hey, none of that being cute, shit, today. I’m in enough trouble with Price as it is.” “Ay. Alright. But, y’think I’m cute?” “Shut up, Johnny.” “Got it, lass.” A beat happens, him staying as he watches you. “You don’t have to stay, Soap.” “I want t’.” “Okay.” “Alrighty.” 
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He awakens to a knock. 
It’s not loud, but dull. 
And very bloody insistent. 
Slowly, he opens his eyes, half-hoping his mind hasn't lied to him, before finding your face close to his—turned to him, watching him. 
It’s not a dream. 
“Hi…”
“Hello,” you say, rocking your hips as you smile. 
If you ever try to tell him you don’t look beautiful in the morning, he’d pull up this image of you—right here. 
“Someone’s at the door, Johnny.” 
“Y’got legs, Mari.” 
“No, I don’t, actually,” you say with a smirk. “Someone fucked me to the point they’re broken. I almost knocked myself out getting to the bathroom for a wee an hour ago. You did this, so you go.” 
It blooms in his chest as he stands, throwing on his underwear as he heads to the door. 
The smirk not fading, not just because of the knowledge he’s done that to you—made your legs weak—but that you were staring at him how you just had been doing. The realisation that your body is naked under those expensive, Egyptian bed sheets—the same ones he’d fucked you under, on top of and likely around throughout last night. 
If you’re trying to blow my back out, you’re succeeding.  Y’know I don’t like t’fail missions, hen.  Call me that again. Wha? Hen?
It’s different, unique. 
A look he’s never seen. It’s almost content mixed with adoration, happiness trying to be hidden by disdain—the latter something you’ve perfected over time. 
Am I your best friend now?  No. You’re something else. Oh, upgraded, am I? What is it you say? Aye?
He looks back, finding you watching him, hand up, close to your face, trying to shield your face. Maybe hiding a smile, a devious smirk. But, it’s the look in your eyes he almost can’t place, it almost stops him. Makes him ask what is wrong. 
But they knock, again. Interrupting a moment he’s been wishing for more than he does a shower after being covered in guts and blood. Whoever they are, impatiently bothering them. 
It’s not until he opens the door, the person standing with a cart and metal dishes on it does he realise—
“Room service.” 
The minx. 
The beautiful, fucking minx.
He grins, almost to the point it makes his cheeks ache as he takes it from them. Trying to guide it back into the room with minimal clanging and difficulty. His hands are desperate to pull the lid off, finding your hand on top of his—body covered in pulled sheets from the bed, teeth biting your lips. 
“What’cha done ‘ere then?” 
His hand brushes your cheek, finding it as soft as it always is—your eyes softening, lips widening as you move into him. It’s different, and he’s glad. It’s closer, with no space between the sides of your body, no remaining space left purposefully because of friendship. 
“Streaky bacon…”
“Aye?” 
Lifting the tin, seeing a whole plate full of it. His head turning, looking at you, watching you smile up at him—your hand on his chest, drawing those soft shapes—the same ones you did when the two of you caught your breaths after the third… maybe fourth… time he made you come on his cock. 
“Y’still like t’ same thing for breakfast, Mari?” 
“Only if it’s yours.” 
His cheeks burn—his ears too. “Y’heavenly, you are.” 
“I try” 
You lift the other tray, his eyes finding an array of fruit. Watching you take a piece, popping it in your mouth. His questioning look must be evident, your eyes watching him as you swallow. 
“Ghost once told me sugar is good post-workout—refuels the muscles or something,” you say, swiping your tongue against your bottom lip. “And we still have this room till 11am, don’t we? And I thought, since we’ve already wasted a lot of time—” 
He captures your lips. 
The sheet falling from between the two of you, like paper to the floor—effortless and silent. His body flush against you, feeling your giggle bubble through you to him. All light, airy—and fucking perfection. 
“Mine,” he whispers against your lips as the two of you fall back into bed. 
“Yours,” you whisper back, throwing your leg over him as you straddle him, hovering your lips over his. “All yours, till you’re sick of me.”
He moves your hair from your face, grasping your hip—thump fitting over the growing bruise he’s already left. “‘never be sick of you, Mari.” 
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an: reader is called mari... because of calamari... squid joke ;)
prequel jealous!soap fic here
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