#simons gremlins

[queerlordsimon]

I created a twisted wonderland quiz a few months back, and I figured I'd share it.

I got: deuce spade https://www.quotev.com/quiz/15269605/which-twisted-wonderland-character-are-you

Here's my result.

Tagging:

@cupids-chamber @corvids-treasure-box @eatcandlewax @vtoriacore @v-anrouge @kirans-wonderland @love-thanatopsis @gloomurai-ontheedgee @merotwst @spade-spam +anyone else

[lxvvie]

König who always uses his height to his full advantage.

Especially when teasing you. Especially when it comes to kissing him.

Whenever you'd crane your neck up to kiss him, perhaps even stand on the tips of your toes or the balls of your feet, König, thoroughly amused, would either lift his head enough to where you'd be lucky to catch his chin or he'd offer his cheek.

You'd get your reward soon enough. The cat-and-mouse of it all was entertaining and endearing to him, however.

But when you finally had enough, when you found yourself standing on König's feet for leverage, and you craned your neck up and pulled him down to meet you halfway, your tall lover could do naught but smirk in the embrace.

And sure enough, you got your reward.

It was worth every moment of his teasing you.

[brewed-pangolin]

A million thank you's to the amazing @temeyes for bringing the enthusiastic menace that is Gym Rat Soap to life.

I can not begin to tell you how much I'm in absolute LOVE with this depiction of him.

I may let loose some very (VERY) NSFW Gym Rat Soap imagines/drabbles that embody Soap MacTavish from the game. But before he graces your screens and steals the spotlight of my inspiration, this is how he appears in my head.

Bouncing around like a madman while I'm trying to maintain some semblance of sanity.

And now he will forever be my snicker (attention) needing gremlin. Powerlifiting his way through the walls of my subconscious until I finally feed him and let him loose onto the unsuspecting Soap Squad.

So much love to you, Tim! 💛

[thegnomelord]

PLEASEEEEE UR IDEA WITH MAGE M!READER AND MONSTER!COD MEN I'D LOVE THAT SO FICKING MUCH AND YES I AGREE THERE IS A LACK OF ALL THE VIOLENCE

Pov of how the world sees the reader Vs how TF141 reader :D. I'm in the middle of writing the first chapter of a fic with this idea, but guess who contracted TB like some coal miner 😞, me! So here's a sneak peak for the sort of vibe I'm going for while I'm trying to recover:

P.S: Ya'll are free to suggest/requests with this idea cause!

P.S.S: Check out bluegiragi who came up with this AU and give her some love!

Mages and Monsters

Mages are strange creatures.

In a world so full of monstrous hybrids and mythical creatures, mages sit on the proverbial line separating man from monster, stuck in both worlds without any hope of fitting in either one.

Because outwardly, they're average. No different from the billions of other humans. They're not born with the marks of monsterdom; they don't possess horns or leathery scales to shrug off small caliber bullets like dragons do, nor the claws and bone crushing jaws of werewolves, not feathered wings and razor sharp talons of harpies, nor the wraiths ghostly ability to become immaterial.

Outwardly, they're average. Ordinary. Mundane. Human...

Almost.

Because Price and Ghost are experienced enough to see the thing laying beneath the paper thin veneer of normality, are seasoned enough to quickly notice the one thing that puts an 'in' before a mage's 'human' description — Magic. Not the smoke and mirror kind magicians or charlatans use to swindle tourists out of money, but real magic.

The ancient kind, the capricious kind, slumbering like a beast inside the hollowed out cavern of a heart until it awakens with a terrible bloodlust. Each of them can attest to this; Price sports gnarled patched of scar tissue on the scaleless parts of his arm from ice burns, his draconic breath having saved him from frostbite that had devoured more than a few good men. Though Ghost doesn't show much skin, one can sometimes catch sight of branching fern patterns on his neck where lightning magic had shot through him. Gaz's back is peppered with hundreds of little cuts where a glass mage's summoned elegant ornaments had shattered into millions of shards, aiming to take out his wings.

And now Soap sports a mark of his own, his side tender red and blistered with a second degree burn. It could have been much worse, your flames were hot enough to melt steel, the only thing having kept him from an early cremation being the two solid concrete walls your magic had had to travel through to hit him and the enhanced regeneration of his thick hide.

But such power demands a cost — one paid in blood. For magic is as fickle and capricious as a rabid dog, just as eager to lunge for your throat as it will at the enemies, leaving lasting wounds for all to see; rough and calloused palms, skin blackened from blazing heat and freezing cold or marked with fern patterns of electricity, fingers stiff and marred with cuts from thorns and crystals and rock and glass, bone deep cuts where the liquid mana had burst out from the skin, leaving faintly glowing scars that never heal right.

All mages are born with this grievous gift, though one never knows whether it will present itself with a pitiful flicker of embers in a man's dying breath, or with a maelstrom of an infant's first hiccup. That's why most mages are sealed, by choice or force, a process which puts chains on the magic, making it and the mage docile.

But you are unsealed. And you flaunt that fact readily by melting the tail of their APC helicopter with one spell, not even waiting for them to crash before flooding the terrain with suffocating ash, the lenses of their gas masks already fogging up from the heat as they get out of the cloud of heavy sediment before it bursts to flames.

Sometimes the magic becomes unsatisfied with the weakness of the body, demanding more than just its pound of flesh and molding the body like clay to better suit it— Mage Marks, they're called — the subtle glow of magic in your eyes, the mana visibly pulsing inside your chest, the skin of your arms slipping away like wet paper before growing anew, this time mimicking the surface of magma, or the rocky barnacle encrusted reef, the gnarled bark of a tree, the crystalline inside of a geode, the ice spiked ground of tundra, or any other form that suits the magic in your veins.

The process is excruciating, the mana burrowing and gnawing on every nerve like a parasite that replaces what it eats with itself. But to you, that's an acceptable loss, because marked mages far surpass their unmarked fellows, your magic stronger and wilder, feral and viscous like the primordial force of nature.

So it becomes concerning when you're laying on the floor, captured, battered and bruised and calm.

Ghost had been waterboarding you for a while now, your body tied to a chair that had been tipped back so you were parallel with the ground. With water pooling around your head, your top half would have been soaked to the bone had your magic not been simmering in your veins, the magic suppression momentarily reducing the raging inferno in your chest to a meager flicker of flames.

They can't kill you, but limiting your magic for even a second is death in and of itself.

Your breathing is harsh as Ghost pulls away the cloth over your mouth, asking you a question as steam rises from your skin. Most would give in long before this point, but you just grin, eyes glowing with a burning glow, and make a comment about how good his arse looks from your viewpoint.

You manage only one small note of laughter, pitiful embers sparking at the corners of your lip, before Ghost drops the rag back over your face and begins anew.

Price watches all of this, sharp draconic eyes noting how the mana glows in your chest, pulsing like a second heart (assuming you had one to begin with), noticing how the water turns to steam a little faster when it splashes over your skin.

And Price knows.

You... You are going to be trouble.

[gomzdrawfr]

they're acoustic, C major

[mamawasatesttube]

robin (1993) #58

head in my hands. tim you are the worst. i love you SO much

[benjingle]

I haven't watched Fionna and Cake yet so don't spoil it but here

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Guardian Angel!Ghost after a day of watching over Gremlin!Reader

[bubble-dream-inc]

TIME TO END THE WRITERS BLOCK- okay here's my request Pookie boo; Simon Riley lets his gf paint his nails. She's going into cosmetology, and needs a muse, and why not ask her hunky-dunky boyfriend?? The plot could maybe be he's on vaca, and she's all like "Yo hot stuff. Wanna get hotter?" (and she pulls out acrylics and polishes) And he's all like "...", but no matter how cold and has no emotions he is, he lets her sit on his lap while painting his nails (fake nails, cuz she put on the longest one possible to irritate him, to hear that smexxxxyyy British voice cursing on how he can't hold a teacup with the witch nails) BRIGHT ASS HOT PINK with a black skull painted on it. AND THEN SHE PAINTS HER NAILS BLACK WITH A PINK SKULL SO THAT THEY HAVE MATCHING NAILS????? COULD BE A HEADCANNON BUT IT'S SUCH A CUTE IDEA POOKIE BOO.

NSAJDNASJKDNJAKSN YOU WERE SO BIG BRAINED FOR THIS I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH

imma do headcanons bc my brain is too fried to come up with a full ass fic but i hope ya like it bb

Simon is very, very tired. He comes home from the gym on the second day of his leave to find you already standing in the living room, a menace with a wicked grin and a small metal suitcase in your hands.

At least you had the decency to let him get settled on the first day before you started with your antics.

"...What's in the suitcase." "A project." "Fuckin' hell."

After you reveal your idea, it might take some coaxing to get him to agree but it works out bc c'mon let's be honest. The man is secretly a simp and a softie when he loves someone. So he begrudgingly agrees, letting himself be dragged by your giggling self to the couch.

So he manspreads on the couch, getting comfortable as you perch yourself prettily on top of him to glue the nails to his gigantic hands (you actually have to dig around your materials a little bit to find tips that somewhat match his natural nail size), and, as grumpy as he is, he at least gets to enjoy the view of you looking so focused on his lap.

(You actually have to stop yourself from giggling a few times because of how the bright pink polish looks out of place on his dark self)

While the polish dries, you offer to go make him some tea, and end up having to help him with it between fits of laughter since he couldn't hold the cup with the extra long coffin nails he has going on.

In the end, you take some pictures and let him simmer in his misery for a while longer before moving to remove them, however, he notices how proud you were of your work, so he just agrees to keep them on as long as you cut them shorter.

So that's exactly what you do, grinning like a mad person. Doing Ghost's nails has you so inspired you actually do your own to match him, and pretend not to notice the soft look in his eyes when you proudly show your work and enthusiastically exclaim how you two are matching.

He ends up keeping them on until they inevitably break or get weirdly outgrown, and he couldn't care less about the weird stares he gets at the gym; as long as his girl is happy, he is happy.

[me-asterisk]

full refs for simon :)

[wraithsoutlaws]

before there was royce and dum dum there was simon and [redacted]

[queerlordsimon]

I drew Idia!! Thought you would like <3

*smooch smooch*

Ahhhh the skrunckle I love him so much thank you Kiran!

I've missed you thank you for thinking of me!!!!!

[lxvvie]

If you have one, what’s your opinion on Keegan Russ?👀

Kee-Kee, like the two other members of the Holy Trinity of Masked Men, is a lovable gremlin in his own right.

Whereas Köthulhu is of the cackling, mountainous, cryptid kind that makes headlines because somebody snapped a picture of him out in the woods with his camo netting on and Ghost is of the grumpy peepaw, sleeping-under-a-multitude of blankets variety whose body is so used to coffee and tea that he almost always feels like he's crashing, and he arrived to work on time rather than early like he usually does because his lower back may or may not have given out that morning, Kee Kee is of the "Say Keegan P. Russ three times in the mirror and he'll appear in your vicinity rather than behind you" kind of gremlin. More than likely, he's raiding your fridge and when you catch him, it's a silent staring contest before he takes the food and goes back into the dark depths of his hiding spot which is probably your shadow or something, I dunno. lmao

[crimsonbubble]

very vague and rough draft of a discarded fic idea

soapghost x reader x alereudy

reader has a night out with the guys

soap makes out with alejandro

ghost makes out with rudy to 'even things out'

reader manages to get videos and photos bc they forgot they were in the room

the next day

soap and reader are bickering

reader threats soap that they will show price the videos from last night

ghosts overhears the convo and asks what videos

reader tries to deny the existence of said videos but rudy is already behind them and snatching their phone

he throws it to soap and holds reader against him

they looks through the video and pictures

soap knows reader better than any of them

and goes "if you wanted to make out, you could've just asked."

pressing himself against reader which presses them into rudy

them teasing and smut ensues

[midnight193]

So, I blame @cod-dump and @snootlestheangel for the brainrot /j I also included some of their ocs whom you guys should def check out.

So here's my chaotic gremlin Star who is apart of the Shadow Company :3

Star chilling with Flash: So, have you ever rode a motorcycle? Flash: No! What's it like? Is it like running? Is it scary? Can we do that right now?!?! Star, grinning: Of course we can

A few moments later Graves: Star I cannot believe you think you can get away with this shit! Star: Tbf, you didn't ban me from the motorcycle, and Flash is fiiiiine Flash: *running around telling everyone about his fun day* Graves: STILL!

Cold day on base Star: I will start stabbing the new recruits if I am not let inside right now Woody: *throws his coat on Star* No need to get violent Star. Star: hmmmm sure *snuggles into Woody's coat* Woody is Star's father figure along with Graves

~The Shadows and 141~

Star: So what knife tricks do you know? Ghost: Quite a few, you want to see a few. Star: YES PLEASE! Graves: I feel like I've created a problem Price: You and me both.

Truck: Why are you still here? Star: *spinning in Truck's chair* cause Graves is mad and I don't feel like dealing with mu consequences Truck: So why am I the one who has to suffer? Star: You enjoy my presence Moose: *pops his head in* Truck you seen, ah nevermind Star: YOU CAN"T MAKE ME DO ANYTHING! Moose: STOP RUNNING STAR! Truck: Why did I chose this.

Thats all my brain can come up with rn but omg I have so many ideas ready to be used >:3

[ff7-has-taken-me-over]

COD things I think about just price being a dad towards his team makes me soft, also nik and price being married is so funny and also gives good angst prompts, and I always see this but graves trying to makes moves on soap and everyone stops him because they know he is a red flag (they are also jealous how graves make soap laugh so much he puts his hand on his chest) and prevents him for going further with soap.

I’ve been seeing so many Nik x Price fanarts on my twitter timeline and I’m living for it aye, that shit is just so good.

The one prompt I’ve got sticking out in my mind about Nik and Price is Nik coming back from his own little mission, tired as anything but excited to see his not-husband-husband (because ‘Nik, I’ll not say you’re my husband if you don’t give me a proper wedding day. I haven’t lived this long for nothing.’)

But he’s excited, smiling to himself as he thinks of the man, but the first thing he comes across is so wildly reminiscent of a husband coming home after work to his kids and partner in absolute chaos that he just freezes and stares for far too long.

There Soap and Gaz are, halfway up a flagpole and yelling down at Ghost who literally looks like he’s about to climb the damn thing, while Price stands to the side looking like a tired dad that can’t help but be endlessly amused and fond.

Nik walks over, still staring at the scene but taking a moment to pull Price into his side so he can kiss the side of his head before he’s asking what the fuck is going on.

Price snorts, waving a hand toward them uselessly as he speaks, “Oh y’know Soap. He was being a shit and dragged Garrick into it which ended up with Simon in the middle. They figured he’d have too much pride to climb a flagpole to get them but he’s seriously been considering it.”

Nic hums, smile cracking across his face when a startled scream and dread filled wail escape the two sergeants once Ghost actually starts climbing the damn thing.

“And you haven’t done anything because?” Price sighed again, head falling to the side so he could bury his face in Nik’s neck in an attempt to block out their madness.

“Was waiting for you to get back so you could give me some patience.” The pilot laughs a little louder this time, giving the man a longer lasting kiss for his troubles before sending him off.

“Do this now and I’ll make you some of that stew you enjoy so much.” Price is reluctant still, but he’s afraid of what will happen if he actually lets Ghost reach his sergeants while they’re still up that pole so he goes.

And if Nikolai’s promise of good food and his company makes him just a touch less harsher than he should’ve been then you won’t see any of the guys complaining about it.

~~~~

Oh my god! The 141 glaring Graves down or purposely steering Soap away from him at every available chance? Oof, thats fun.

That mf would get so salty he’d purposely start getting bolder with his flirting attempts and make shittier jokes, because if his time with Soap is gonna get cut down he’s gonna make sure it’s still worth it.

Price desperately wants to just kick the American out on his ass and call it a day but he knows Soap’s got a bit of a soft spot for him, plus he’d actually face very real and very serious repercussions from his superiors if he did that with no reason… viable reason that is.

Gaz shamelessly interrupts and drags Soap away whenever he catches so much as a glimpse of Graves near them. He can barely stand him on a good day, let alone one where he’s constantly going after his best friend.

Ghost doesn’t do much more than stare him tf down in that silent, semi-creepy way he has. Graves gets wildly unsettled by it because he knows (in his little lizard brain) that if he were to go toe to toe with him, not only would he lose but he’d also disappear off the face of the Earth. And that’s the last thing he wants right now.

Soap of course doesn’t have a damn clue, is honestly just happy to be with his team as often as he has been lately. He also enjoys hanging out with Graves, he likes having someone he can just have casual, light conversations with where its nothing more than good laughs and friendly interactions.