#sol tozer

[jirving]

solomon tozer for the lovely @massgrav

[charliemack]

Effin Terror Part The Four

Bobby is Thee Worst all my homies hate bobby

There are more of these

Ethically sourced shitpost: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

[saintharrowhark]

yeah i know the marines were all dressed as knights or kings or whatever for carnivale. DON’T CARE. these are the same to me

[cashmere-caveman]

they shouldve been a weird sex cult (more terror text post memes)

[birdthatisbored]

Hickey smoking in the scene in episode 9 where Tozer tells him he saw Tuunbaq inhale Collins's soul ohhhh my godddd I don't have words but you know what I'm saying right?

[massgrav]

Oh, this is serious.

—

They're nestling in my brain <3

[suddenly-frankenstein]

rewatched the terror once again and this time i wanted to make some coldboys' 💅fashion💅 sketches. just for acrylic practice and self care

[burrowingregg]

Ned gets mugged.mp4

I really wanted to use the first half of the audio because it’s but it just doesn’t fit Tozer and Little. I could only think of Little and Jopson.

[erythriina]

i hereby ask u about your fic. tell me about cannibalism and its implications with these sad old men

@m-the-funky-chicken

Y’all are too nice to me 😭🥰🥰🥹

The basic conceit is that Irving survives Hickey’s attempt on his life, and during Tuunbaq attaq at the failed trial, he and Tozer end up witnessing Collins’ death together. I was thinking of doing this for the Big Bang coming up, but I’ve decided I can’t make myself write this much on a deadline lol, this is just for fun

This gives Irving a chance to actually react to his entire worldview being shaken by experiencing this moment of true human kindness followed by an attempted murder — and crucially, now the most religious character gets to see a man’s soul sucked out of his body, yipee!

I’m very intrigued by Irving/Tozer because Tozer strikes me as a character with a whole lot of guilt, and Irving, as someone who is having to rebuild his understanding of the world through the lens of his faith, is in the perfect position to give Tozer the forgiveness he needs. I’m also fascinated by how easily Tozer is led when he is really and truly scared, and I think putting Irving there instead of Hickey—especially if Irving is the only other person who saw what he saw—makes some really interesting emotional ties. On the other side of the coin, Tozer is in a position to have a really profound effect on Irving while he grapples with everything that he’s seen and experienced.

Also post the events of the fic they adopt a puppy named Penguin, because it’s MY fic and IM driving (see below the cut😭💖)

All I have are snippets but I love them so much

[tuungaq]

tozer: i stand by my canceled wife hickey

*tuunbaq eats collins’ soul and hickey doesn’t care*

tozer: ok nope time to divorce my canceled wife

[solittles]

one of the reasons why i like solittle so much, is because sol and ned are the mirror images of each other in so many ways, which i find very fascinating. both of them:

get knocked unconscious with the butt of a rifle in the back of the head

the historical people were from families with many kids

still followed the captain/a leader, but had a high hierarchical position, basically being in command in some way from time to time

got betrayed by someone they trusted (sol by hickey, ned by the men and dundy)

last man standing from each group, except for croizer (i don't count hickey as a last man, since he's a lost cause, even if he had survived the tuunbaq encounter)

it's especially the last thing that gets me going. because it would mean that in an alternative universe, croizer and sol could've both survived. and maybe, just maybe, they and silna could've saved ned as well. mirror images, man......

[jirving]

Light of my life, Solomon Tozer <3

[garfieldfeetpics]

literally get away from him

[headcanonthings]

Sol: I’m Hickey's emergency contact. Nurse: So you’re here to pick him up? Sol: I’m here to be removed as his emergency contact.

[cashmere-caveman]

ok im just reading russell potters newest blog post abt sol tozers (possible) sibling who left her abusive husband and then lived as a man (with a wife!) for the next 40 years instead and i just find it so cool how by researching one historic event u invariably touch upon so many lives and how theres so many people lost in history who were absolutely fascinating! i know i know the discovery that human life experiences have always been manifold and every individual has a singular experience etc is nothing new but still!!! i love being reminded that life is big and history is endless and that there is a universe hidden behind every name you ever hear!!!!

[manicpixiedreamjop]

oooohhhh 28 - "I know your friends" with either solittle or armitozer please! <333

(Putting this one under a cut bc it got a bit long!)

“What the fuck happened to you?”

It’s not as if Edward has any say in where Sol goes or what he does, as Sol had been kind enough to remind him on his way out the door earlier when Edward had asked where he was going (“None of your fuckin’ business Neddie, you’re not my boyfriend and you’re not my mum, so fuck off, yeah?”). He feels justified in asking now though, as Sol stumbles through the door just past one in the morning, lip split, brilliant black eye blooming on the right side of his face.

“Got in a fight, didn’t I?” says Sol, tugging open the fridge and leaning into it, pulling out a beer and immediately holding it up to the bruise on his eye. His eyes look slightly out of focus, and Edward doesn’t know if it’s from the injury or if he’s been drinking already too.

“With who?”

“Does it matter?”

“Your face is bleeding, Sol,” says Edward, shoving himself to his feet and walking across the kitchen towards him. “So yeah, I’d say it fucking matters.”

“A friend,” snaps Sol.

“What friend?”

“You don’t know him.”

“I know your friends.”

“Can we not with the third degree, right now?” asks Sol, and this time Edward is sure he’s drunk. Better that than concussed, he supposes. “My fuckin’ head is killing me.”

“Do you think it’s because you got punched in the face?” asks Edward, but he softens his voice, taking the beer out of Sol’s hand with one hand and turning his chin towards the light with the other. The bruise is nasty, but the cut on his lip isn’t as bad as it had looked when he’d walked in, only crusted with old blood, already mostly closed. “Come on, Sol,” he continues, even softer this time. “What’s going on with you?”

Sol lets out a long, slow breath through his nose, and finally looks at Edward properly, eyes big and far softer than Edward ever gets to see them when Sol’s sober. “Was seeing someone,” Sol says finally. “Didn’t work out.”

“They did—” Edward says, forcing himself to stay calm, to push down the anger rising in him, sure it’s the last thing Sol needs right now.

“I thought—” Sol starts, but he cuts himself off too, shrugging awkwardly. Edward realises all at once that his hand is still on Sol’s chin, but can’t bring himself to move it, especially not when Sol leans into the touch. “I don’t know what I thought,” he continues after a moment, and then, before Edward can say anything else, Sol leans forward and kisses him.

He tastes like blood and whiskey, his several days of stubble scratching against Edward’s chin, and Edward is already opening his mouth and leaning back into the kiss before he quite processes what he’s doing. Because they don’t do this, him and Sol. They’re flatmates, they’re old friends, and maybe they’ve gotten off together a few times when they were drunk, and maybe Edward fantasises about getting down on his knees and sucking Sol off every time Sol comes home from the gym all flushed and sweaty and grinning, but they don’t do this. Edward has never even dared allow himself to want this.

“Sol,” he says, pulling away, forcing himself not to react to the small, disappointed noise that Sol makes. “You’re drunk.”

“And?” asks Sol. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want you. That I haven’t wanted you for… for fuckin’ ever.”

“You’re drunk,” Edward says again, as much to himself as to Sol. “And bleeding, and… Let’s just get you cleaned up, alright? We can talk about this in the morning.”

Sol stares at him a moment longer, eyes still wide, before his face hardens again and he steps back, holding the beer can back up to his eye.

“I can deal with it,” he says tersely. “I’ve had worse.” Edward doesn’t know if he’s still talking about the black eye or not.

“Sure,” says Edward, taking a step back as well. “Yeah. I’ll just… leave you to it then.”

“Cheers,” says Sol, and then he’s stepping away, out of Edward’s orbit, and down the hall towards the bathroom.