#Naaaaaaaaah

[kylobith]

LotR Week - Day 5 (15th Dec)

loss | sacrifice | despair

Word count: 4,573

Boromir’s steps echoed in the stairwell of the Tower of Ecthelion as he descended them at a careful pace. Plunged in the obscurity and left out from the cast of moonlight, there was little light filtering through the sparse windows. One missed step, and he would surely shatter his neck and back on the marble. Clinging to the wall with one hand, he aided himself further, calculating each motion. The halo of his torch enhanced the furrow on his forehead and the dark rings under his tearful eyes. A lump had long settled in his throat, stifling his hitched breath and rendering him incapable of producing a single sound. His aching heart pounded within his chest forcefully enough that he expected it to tear itself asunder at any second. His thoughts plunged into despair, surrendering to the relentless tumult of his mind.

Earlier that night, hurried footsteps and hushed voices outside his door had dragged him out of his slumber. People came and went, the heaviness and recurrence of their steps even causing his bed to quiver. Every so often, the familiar clatter of armour would follow suit. He would have dismissed it without a second thought if not for the maidservants’ peculiar words echoing in the hallway and retaining his attention.

‘Any trace of the little one?’ one voice, which he recognised as that of his father’s housekeeper Tíriel, urged to another.

‘None. Ivorwen and Orodreth have searched the kitchens, but the child is nowhere to be found.’

‘Eru, protect him!’

Lighting up the extinguished candle on his bedside table, Boromir had kicked off his legs from the bed and emerged from underneath the covers. He had risen and marched to the door, yawning and wiping the sleep out of his eyes. Something was afoot, and his instinct had predicted that this would be a very long night.

When he heralded his presence by opening his door, the two servants had started and bowed.

‘What is the matter?’ his groggy voice had inquired.

‘My lord, you should be in bed,’ Tíriel had spoken with the fondness in her tone she reserved for children. Yet this had not sufficed to conceal the alarm that gripped her voice and tensed up every muscle in her frail body.

‘I was until I heard you and the others running about. Now tell me, what is the matter?’

Tíriel had regarded Damrod, the chamberlain, with a discerning gaze betraying her uncertainty. Despite his pursed lips and the vehement shaking of his head, the housekeeper had found herself drawn to revealing the situation to the steward’s older son. If he had awoken at this particular time, then he deserved to know, she deemed.

‘My lord, is your brother in your room with you?’

His heart had stopped. The child they could not find was Faramir?

‘No, he is not,’ he had responded, now wide awake and seized by dead. ‘Is he missing?’

‘Well, he is not in bed, and we have yet to find him.’

Leaving no room for hesitation, Boromir scurried back inside his chambers, placing his candleholder on his dresser, snatching his trousers from the back of his chair, and jumping on one foot as he slid a first leg in it. Dumbfounded at the door, the two servants turned their heads to give him some privacy. A frown marred Damrod’s countenance as he cast a disapproving glare in Tíriel’s direction.

‘Fetch me a torch,’ the young lord called out as he slipped on a warmer shirt and a vest. ‘Tell me which places have already been searched.’

‘My lord,’ Damrod pleaded, ‘it is unreasonable for you to come with us. Please remain in bed; we will notify you once your brother is found. You have an important evaluation tomorrow morning; you cannot miss it.’

Without bothering to put socks on, Boromir laced up his boots and snuffed out his candle. He reappeared at the frame, buckling up his sword at his hip.

‘There will be other evaluations. I have only one Faramir.’

As he set out for the hallways, Damrod had departed in the opposite direction, leaving Tíriel to accompany Boromir. Traversing the lofty corridors of the citadel, he had observed the conspicuous absence of most guards. He could only imagine — and hope — that they were on the same quest as he was.

On their way out, Tíriel had handed a torch from the wall to Boromir, whose fingers had instantly clasped it until his knuckles turned as pale as his face. Although aware that none of her words would ease his anguish, the housekeeper revealed everything she knew about the situation.

As soon as she had noticed that Faramir’s door had been left open, the passing governess had peeked inside the bedchambers, only to find the bed unmade yet unoccupied. After looking around for the boy, suspecting that he might have snuck into his playroom, she had found herself at a loss over the child’s whereabouts. She had questioned the guards in the hallway, but none had seen him leave, having taken their posts only a few minutes prior. One of them, however, had indicated having heard agitation and crying inside the room.

Crying… Boromir’s heart ached at the mere mention of it. What had Faramir gone through that had warranted his sudden disappearance?

Spurred by the guard’s statement, the governess had felt compelled to sound the alarm among her fellow household workers. Most abandoned their duties to join the search for the child, but success had thus far eluded them. The palace, except Boromir’s chambers, had been scoured from stem to stern. No trace of Faramir, whether in the kitchens, in the garderobes, the guest rooms, the offices, or the hall. Not a breadcrumb.

Once Boromir and Tíriel had exited the citadel and stood near the White Tree, five guards on horseback had urgently trotted up to them. Bowing their heads to the young lord, the latter had gritted his teeth, having no use for such triviality at this dire hour.

‘Sentinels, what news do you bring?’ he had queried, resting his trembling hand on the hilt of his sword.

‘Nobody has seen Lord Faramir, and neither have we,’ one of them replied sternly.

A knot had tied in the pit of his stomach. But there was still hope. If his younger brother had not been seen in the city, there was a chance that he was much closer than they had thought. Boromir had drawn in a sharp breath and given orders to the sentinels.

‘Guard the path to the citadel and send one to the gates to notify the guards there. If anybody enters or departs the city, I want to be notified promptly before they do. Is that clear?’

‘Yes, my lord.’

‘It matters not to me who goes. Decide it between yourselves.’

With a last nod towards the guards, Boromir turned to Tíriel and beckoned her back towards the citadel.

‘Has the library been searched? I believe my brother’s newfound obsession for books now that he can read is known to all.’

‘Yes, my lord. The archivist was awoken and is now watching the library. He vowed to alert us if your brother is seen there.’

‘Very well. Now, we must think of our next step.’

Tumultuous waves of thoughts had coursed through his mind as he internally reiterated every place that had been combed, every post occupied by those who helped. It had left them with few options to consider. Pensive, he had instinctively raised his gaze towards the magnificent Tower of Ecthelion, and an idea had burgeoned in his mind.

‘I must search the Tower,’ he had muttered. ‘I doubt that he bothered to go inside, but if I could reach the top and have a better view of the upper level in case Faramir is outside, I will see him immediately.’

Before the housekeeper could object, Boromir had run off to the doors of the Tower. Climbing the stairs in a hurry, peering through the few windows on his path to the top, he had ignored his erratic breathing, burning the little energy left in him. Despite the burning sensation in his calves and thighs, he had pushed forward, skipping steps if necessary.

In hushed prayers, he beseeched any listening ear for Faramir’s well-being, fervently hoping that his beloved brother had not fallen into the clutches of vicious hands. With each step nearer the top of the stairs, his plea grew louder. His quivering voice yearned to witness his sibling blossoming into a formidable man, partake in a ride to Osgiliath with him, or even share a pastry torn in halves between them.

Battling the urge to collapse on his knees, Boromir had pledged to the Valar to cultivate greater patience for Faramir. He had committed to indulging the child, reading him tales and letting him read others in return, and lending an eager ear to his enthusiastic banter about the new knowledge he acquired. He cared not about their differences. All he wanted was his brother back.

Once at the summit of the stairs, he had flung open the door with an abrupt burst of strength. The guards stationed there had jolted at his sight, clutching their spears and the hilts of their swords. Upon recognising the steward’s oldest, they had eased yet attempted to dissuade him from remaining where he stood, urging him to return to the citadel. Stubborn and much too worried to listen to any of it, Boromir had circled the Tower’s peak, leaning over the marble guardrail, his eyes scanning the city and the Pelennor Fields for possible movement. All he had seen were the scarce figures of adults, no child to be seen.

‘FARAMIR!’ he had called out from the top of his lungs, clutching the guardrail until his nails and knuckles felt as though they would shatter. Gripped by an uneasy foreboding, he had screamed his brother’s name again and again until his voice grew hoarse. There was no reaction besides the guards covering their ears.

One of them had approached the young lord and squeezed his shoulder to pull him back as he nearly bent over the void beneath him in sheer despair.

‘Lord Boromir, you must return to the citadel. I will escort you there myself. If we see Lord Faramir, we shall blow the horn.’

The boy had dropped his hand on the side of his body in defeat, nodding in obedience. Holding his torch still, he had allowed the guard to direct him back into the stairwell of the Tower and to escort him to the terrace below.

And there Boromir was, descending the stairs with tears brimming his eyes, threatening to fall at any second. His legs wobbled underneath him, weakened by his erratic climbing and running, threatening to give in. Before they would, the guard caught him by the arm and held him up.

‘There, there, my lord. Fear not, we will find him.’

Boromir wanted to believe him; he truly did. But something did not sit right with him. How did nobody see Faramir leave his room, alone or in the company of another? Were there no guards stationed at his door? How had the disappearance eluded them?

Before he could delve deeper into the thought, they reached the bottom of the stairs and exited the Tower of Ecthelion. At its foot, Tíriel had waited for his return, and the guard mumbled something that he did not make an effort to hear. He felt the housekeeper’s arm encircle his shoulders, but he gently put her arm away.

The search had to continue. He could not give up.

‘Has anybody asked Ioreth at the Houses of Healing whether Faramir has been seen or brought there with any injury?’

‘Damrod has just done so, but none of the healers saw any child in the Houses.’

‘Let us return to the citadel. We must proceed carefully.’

‘You must go back to bed.’

‘As long as Faramir is missing, I am not.’

They passed the White Tree on their way to the citadel and found the governess leaning against the wall outside the door, pressing a handkerchief to her lips to stifle her weeping. Boromir’s heart sank at her sight. This could not be good. Without hesitation, he leapt forward to meet her.

‘Morwen,’ he hailed, still out of breath. ‘Is there any news of my brother?’

‘No, not yet,’ she sobbed, patting her tear-stained cheeks. ‘It is all my fault!’

Boromir placed a hand on her shoulder and rubbed it. If somebody was to be held responsible, it certainly was not her.

‘There, there, brave Morwen,’ he whispered, taking out his clean handkerchief from his pocket and helping her dry her skin. ‘You did well. You were the one to notify us as soon as you saw something amiss.’

‘It is not that, my lord. I should have said something earlier. The poor child… He has not been himself as of late.’

His ears perked up at the governess’ revelation. As his brow furrowed, he clutched her arms, perhaps tighter than he meant to.

‘Not himself?’

‘Oh, no.  For the past year, he has been a troubled soul since the passing of Lady Finduilas. His mind is elsewhere, his eyes sorrowful… So young, so young!’

Something snapped into place inside Boromir’s mind. A gasp rolled off his lip as he shot up, releasing Morwen from his grasp.

‘This is it! This must be it!’

Without explanation, Boromir shouldered his way through the citadel's doors. Resolution and hope rekindled in his heart as he hurtled across the Hall of the Kings, startling the gathered soldiers and servants. Clad in his evening robes, Denethor snapped his head, only to behold his older son, not knowing that he had left his bed.

‘Boromir!’

The boy did not cast so much as a glance over his shoulder as he continued his course. A sharp pain tore through his calf as though the muscle threatened to tear in half.

‘I know where he is!’

And he cursed himself for not having thought of it earlier. How could he have been so daft?

The agitation and the crying in Faramir’s room… He had jumped to the worst conclusions before reasoning. What the governess had said was true. Their mother’s death had inflicted a more profound toll on his younger brother than it had already on him. Faramir had been much closer to Finduilas than himself, much to his regret, and the child was too young to process his grief.

Boromir darted across the bridge behind the citadel, his hair blown back by the night breezes. He placed his torch in an empty sconce at the crypt's entrance and solemnly entered, not allowing his anguish to desecrate the place. He bowed to the tombs in their alcoves before advancing, his hands brushing against his thighs.

Silence reigned in the hall. Even the torches’ flames licked at the air noiselessly, dancing upon the stone slabs and the walls. Their flickering accentuated the traits of each recumbent effigy of the kings and stewards that had once served Gondor and were now laid to rest and immortalised in statues, if not in scrolls and the memories of the living.

Carved into the mountain's flank, the crypt was devoid of warmth. Not even halfway through, Boromir regretted not having taken his cloak on his way out of his room. The cold nipped at him and sunk into his bones, stiffening his joints and reddening his hands.

Nevertheless, any discomfort became trivial when he caught a glimpse of a curled-up form upon one of the slabs ahead. He hastened but abstained from running, approaching the tomb with a measured stride — a place he had not visited often enough to his liking.

Boromir crouched beside the grave and offered a warm smile to the shivering figure facing away.

‘There you are, Fari,’ he murmured, his voice bereft of resentment or anger. ‘Everybody is looking for you. You gave me the fright of the century, little brother.’

There was no reaction from the little boy nestled against the breast of his mother’s effigy. Only stuttered breaths reached his ears as a visible hitch marked his brother’s every inhalation. He was so lightly dressed; Boromir could well imagine that he was chilled to the bone if even he could feel the frost despite the layers upon his back.

His fingers unbuttoned his vest and placed it across his bent knee before pulling his warmer shirt over his head and enveloping Faramir’s frail body. Having slid his vest back over his thin nightshirt, he patiently awaited movement from his brother, a word perhaps, but none came forth.

‘You had a nightmare again, mh?’

This time, Faramir nodded and peered over his shoulder at his brother. His blue eyes were bloodshot and swollen from incessant weeping. Boromir would have struck himself with his own sword at the sight for his stupidity. He should have known long before where his brother would run to for comfort. He would have been there for his brother and held him to ease his fear for as long as needed.

The younger boy rubbed his eye with his tiny fist and spoke at last, his voice feeble and broken.

‘I was so scared.’

Boromir’s eyes softened as they crinkled at the corners, his smile widening. He ran his fingers through the dishevelled curls on his brother’s head in a gentle motion.

‘And father’s scolding for the broken glass at dinner certainly did not help it.’

‘No.’

The older brother sighed.

‘Forget about him, little brother. As long as I am around, you have nothing to fear,’ he intoned, earning a soft smile from the child. ‘Let’s get you back to bed, shall we?’

When Faramir acquiesced, Boromir turned his back to him, maintaining his crouched position with his heels firmly grounded for balance. Gone was the weight that had lingered in the air between them. It had been replaced by the shared and unbridled affection that now enveloped them in its unseen mantle.

‘Come here,’ he instructed with a smile. ‘Hop on, little froggy!’

Faramir’s giggle resonated through the Houses of the Dead, insufflating some joy into its hallways. In other circumstances, Boromir would have seen it as a celebration of life in gratitude for those who were long stripped of theirs, who had rendered the miracle of their sole existence possible. For now, he only wanted to bring his brother back to his warm bed and reassure all who were worried to death about the child’s disappearance.

Having slipped his arms into the shirt's sleeves kindly lent to him, the little boy climbed onto his brother’s back, wrapping his arms around his neck. Much to Boromir’s amusement, the sleeves dangled way past his hands, a comical sight which applied balm to his previously aching heart. He hoisted himself up and carried Faramir, holding him under the knees. Before leaving, he bowed his head to the tomb beside him.

‘Good night, Mother. We love you.’

Faramir nodded, burying his face against his shoulder blade as they exited the crypt. Boromir did not bother retrieving the torch from the sconce, leaving it to burn in peace.  They headed towards the citadel in silence as exhaustion gained them both. He dragged his feet across the stone, unwilling to let his brother walk. The poor thing needed to regain warmth, and their proximity enabled just that.

Before his eyelids unconsciously drooped, Boromir flinched at the sight of the sleeve poking his nose. A sharp exhalation swirled out of his nose as he glanced over his shoulder with a grin.

‘Yes?’

‘Are you angry with me, Boromir?’

He patted the side of the child’s calf with the utmost tenderness.

‘I could never.’

‘Not even if I broke your wooden sword?’

Boromir regarded him with suspicion, although the smirk plastered on his face served as a silent understanding that there was no trace of irritation in his heart.

‘Why? Did you break the wooden sword?’

‘Maybe?’

A chuckle escaped his throat as he readjusted his brother upon his back whilst crossing the bridge back to the palace.

‘Ah, that is quite alright. Think nothing of it.’

‘But you love that sword!’

‘Perhaps, but I love you much more than I do a toy.’

Faramir smiled and tightened his grip around his brother, crossing his ankles against the older boy’s stomach. As they entered the citadel again, the first guards and servants to behold the reunited brothers sighed and exclaimed in relief, spreading the word to their colleagues to end the search.

When Boromir entered the Hall of the Kings to notify his father, Denethor stomped in their direction, his traits distorted by an unmatched fury. He pointed a finger towards the younger boy, who tensed up and flinched before a single word left his mouth.

‘You little brat! What foolishness has come through your head for you to disappear so?!’

‘Father, that is enough!’

Denethor halted at once, his wide eyes turning to his older son and yielding to the boy’s authority. Boromir put Faramir down and held him tightly against his side.

‘Faramir was found, and that is the end of the story,’ he scolded his father, scowling at him. As Morwen entered the hall and burst into tears of elation at the sight of the child, brought back safe and sound, Boromir held his brother’s hand. ‘Morwen, will you please take my brother to my bedchambers? I shall keep him company tonight. Please fetch his pillow and his stuffed horse from his room. Go with her, Faramir; I will be with you shortly.’

‘Yes, brother.’

Faramir took Morwen’s hand and followed her away until she picked him up out of sheer joy and carried him to the royal quarters. Boromir smiled as he watched them, sensing the lump in his throat fading at last. Yet when his father spoke, his frown was quick to return.

‘You waste far too much energy on this child,’ Denethor spat. ‘He has spoiled your rest with his antics. Tomorrow is an important day for you, with the master of arms’ examination. Now that you have spent half of the night outside by Faramir’s fault, he has ruined your potential. So do not make things worse for yourself, Boromir. Send the boy back to his room and have him locked up there, or you will not be able to even stand in your armour in the morrow.’

‘Then, tired I will be. But do not ask me to forsake my brother when he is in pain, for I will not obey.’

Denethor’s eyes glimmered with a spark of rage. Nevertheless, he did not lash out at Boromir. No, that was a treatment he usually reserved for his younger son. His father paced up and down in a futile attempt to quiet the thunderous words threatening to escape him, not helped by the older son’s defiant scowl and raised chin.

‘You cannot let the child lead you around by the nose, Boromir. He must grow up, and it is about time.’

‘Father, he is six years old, give him time! Mother’s death has scarred him deeply; do not blame him for his pain.’

‘He will be the death of us both, do you not see it? You cannot possibly care for him all his life to the detriment of your potential and virtues. You have much to achieve, my son, so much to accomplish. Do not let a brainless little boy waste any of that.’

‘I am his older brother, and if it is a burden, it is one that I gladly accept,’ Boromir retorted, leaving time for Denethor to respond. When the latter struggled to find his words, the boy bowed. ‘Good night, Father. I shall see you in the morning.’

When Boromir reached his bedchambers, he found Faramir already in bed, his curls a blond halo around his head while he pressed his yellow stuffed horse to his heart. Finding the sight most endearing, the older boy readjusted the cover on top of his brother, carefully tucking him in. He pressed a kiss to his temple before stripping down to his nightshirt and loincloth. When he slipped back under the blankets, Faramir stirred and sighed.

‘I miss Mother.’

Boromir turned his head with raised eyebrows and smiled softly.

‘Me too, Fari.’

Seeing the tears welling up in his little brother’s eyes, Boromir pulled him against his chest and held him close, rubbing his back to comfort the child. It had been long since he had mourned their mother. Not that he had not loved her. For years, he had enjoyed his father’s favouritism, finding comfort in the knowledge that Finduilas spent most of her time raising and coddling Faramir. But now that she was gone, Denethor’s spite towards the younger boy had been unleashed and had reached greater extents than ever before.

Thus, Boromir had done all he could for the past year to never let his brother alone in their father’s company. He had found countless excuses to lure the younger boy away or distract his father by doing something as simple as handing the maidservant his empty plate with the cutlery neatly laid on top of it to earn his praise and give some respite to his brother. But such moments were never to last, and he was more than aware that it was only the beginning.

Under the palm of his hand, he sensed the shaking of Faramir’s shoulder as the child began to weep again. Wishing to deflect the night's pain and emotion, Boromir chuckled and kissed the top of his head.

‘Hey, Fari, do you remember that day when Mother let you style her hair?’

Faramir’s sobs swiftly turned into stifled chuckles.

‘I got her brush stuck in her hair and couldn’t get it out.’

‘Exactly,’ Boromir responded with a hearty laugh, the happy memory filling him with joy. He could see it all again: Finduilas’ luscious black hair matted around the wooden handle and the boar bristles on one side of her head.

‘She wasn’t even angry at me.’

Boromir chuckled and pressed another kiss to his brother’s hair.

‘No, she wasn’t. You were not there to see it because you were with Morwen, but Mother kept the brush in her hair the entire day, pretending that nothing was afoot. Father commented on it, but she retorted that it was all the rage in Dol Amroth.’

‘She did?’ the little boy gasped in amusement.

‘Yes, she did,’ he confirmed, his smile slowly fading. ‘You know, little brother, Mother loved you with all her heart. And I love you all the same. Never forget that.’

And forget Faramir never did.

One evening, the younger brother entered the crypt again, bowing to the alcoves and following the trail leading him to his mother. He bent to place a kiss upon her statue’s brow and rested a hand upon the slab.

‘Good evening, Mother,’ his solemn voice echoed throughout the halls. With a sigh, he stared down at the cloven horn between his unsteady hands. ‘I fear that I am a bearer of unfortunate news.’

He lay down beside the effigy, no longer tiny next to it, but his head and legs reaching beyond those of the bronze figure. His chest heaving with sorrow, Faramir clutched the horn to his heart and wept for his brother.

#This idea made me cry #Writing it made me cry #I sincerely hope that you will cry too #You have no proof of me being obsessed with Faramir #He was SO never mentioned in any of the prompts this week #Naaaaaaaaah #lotrweek #Boromir and Faramir #More like Broromir #Faramir #Boromir #Denethor #Denethor's A+ parenting #brothers #siblings #family #lotr #lord of the rings #lord of the rings fic #lord of the rings fanfic #lord of the rings fanfiction #lotr fic #lotr fanfic #lotr fanfiction #brothers being brothers

[soufre-de-paris]

upside of playing a decade old franchise: haha no fandom drama on my dash c bc it's the hot new thing woo get wrecked losers

downside of playing a decade old franchise: what do you mean the requisite modding tools only existed on a now-defunct forum

#[REDACTED] woes #i have no idea how old these games are #i was told 'play this' and i am #that is the extent of my pre-existing knowledge about them #kinda wanna post my boys bc i love them but #naaaaaaaaah

[drawthethingdoppelganger]

Going around asking some bb blogs but

Do you got a favorite end credits scene? :3

Hi!! Thank you so much for the ask ❤ I don't wanna be basic but like, it's absolutely Taffy Butts 😭 And I think you know why, pfffft

LOOK

#the song the animation the choreography the BOY?? HELLO?? #'dt why don't you just make a clip already- ' naaaaaaaaah #thank you sm!! #bobs burgers #bob's burgers #asks

[fafnirhumgy]

I find myself wanting to write more about the Echo x Adastra x Persona idea. And while we're at it... what about adding more?

I'm separating the whole casts into 4 categories:

Phantom Thieves: The Phantom Thieves sans Violet, Crow, Sophie, and Wolf, and the main Adastra cast. Amicus is a bit hesitant about allying with thieves, even if they're good people all around, while Marco being Marco has not let his rebellious streak die down at all the past 8 years. Alexios is given weird looks as the group gets to know each other, especially once he awakens to his fighter-masquerading-as-a-Navigator Persona. Everyone else is just trying their best to acclimate to the new world, with varying results. Their part of the plot revolves around taking down the Palace-like distortions wherever rumors start to amass.

Investigation Team: The Investigation Team + Marie, all on their lonesome. While one team may be better suited to traveling the Metaverse and the other terrifying at dispatching Shadows, the Inaba crew have a god and Shadow Self experience. Even during the slowest apocalypse ever, people continue to be horrible and even try to spin the situation into their advantage, which inevitably backfires as their own Shadows creep up on them. It's their job to help these fools face themselves while tracking down who - or what - is causing the fusion in the first place.

Shadow Operatives: The Shadow Operatives old and new, and the main Echo cast. With the latter group's more intense familiarity with one half of the overarching forces attacking the Persona world, they take a more passive role protecting the common folk from upsurges of rumor-stirred hysteria panics and the Shadow leaks that follow. Aigis in particular is interested in Flynn, since she is more fine-tuned to time distortions (because robot, and who wants a repeat Abyss of Time am I right?) and can feel something very weird from him whenever he uses his Persona.

Hikari Studios: Hikari, Sho Minazuki, Labrys, Adachi, Akechi, Sumire, Maruki, Zenkichi, Sophia, Ichinose, Toshiro, Guernica, Jose, the important route side characters of Echo sans the ghosts, Bjarni, Brunis, and Magis from Interea, and the main cast of Socially Awkward (haha surprised you didn't i?!). Jose's van has become rather large as he comes into his own as one who governs power! And with some hasty modifications to Maruki and Zenkichi's rides as the cognitive dimension starts to fuse more drastically with the real world, Hikari leads a behind-the-scenes B squad against the smaller but no less dangerous threats across the land, with only the fragmented memories of Q2 and her determined heart to lead the unlikely group! Hijinks naturally ensure as the side Echo and SA crews share notes between their worlds and become increasingly concerned for this group's mental health with 6 (former) antagonists among their number.

#adastra #interea #echo project #echo vn #socially awkward #persona 3 #persona 4 #persona 4 arena ultimax #persona 5 #persona 5 royal #p5r #p5 #p3 fes #p4g #persona 5 tactica #persona 5 strikers #persona q2 #writing #pq2 #crossover #crossover idea #writing ideas #no longer sorry #is it getting too bloated? hmmm naaaaaaaaah #no i can't add smoke room because that would disrupt stuff on the echo side concerning the substantial strengthening of the hum #especially concerning agents like the embrace #might even endanger the group more because what i'm seeing? #hum-enhanced shadows taking on arcanas shared by the furry vn worlds #rumors and hysteria eventually overblowing into the exact environment that made the p2 duology possible #nyarly and phil teaming up for once because these parents who aren't doing anything and this hum that's making things worse GOTTA GO

[crisispider]

☄ ~ @variantindustries

Random Headcanon Meme - Accepting

Okay okay so sit here with me, I've been thinking about this headcanon for AWHILE NOW, and this one might be a little rough draft/babble more than a concrete and nicely written headcanon so hopefully that's okay!

So we all know Spider-man's big thing is that no matter how many times he gets knocked down he ALWAYS gets back up right? Peter over the several years he has been on the job has gotten a NUMBER of injuries over the years and they always heal. The bigger more SERIOUS injuries take longer to knit themselves back together and if Peter was to get enough RAPID trauma all at once it could ABSOLUTELY kill him, he isn't Wolverine by ANY MEANS.

All of this babble to say that Peter is RIDDLED in scars. Now don't get me wrong, small little injuries? Those don't leave a mark when his skin eventually knits itself back together. BUT any injury that would have KILLED a normal human? Those leave ANGRY and VIOLENT looking scars all over his body.

Peter isn't ashamed of them, and never bothers to try and hide them. It is just what his body looks like, and he is happy with that. If anything it just proves that he is STILL KICKING and honestly? In this day and age? In his line of work? That's IMPRESSIVE.

There are some MOMENTS when a partner is particularly focused one them he might get a little SELF CONSCIOUS.. but more so in the he has never really been a fan of making people worry about him. The Scars were often a REMINDER of how many times Peter had gotten close to dying. So he honestly couldn't blame them, and when it does happen he will go out of his way to DISTRACT them.

#Now do I have any canon proof to back any of this up? be it movies or comics? No. #Do I care? Naaaaaaaaah #Let him be covered in scaaaaaars !! #Let his partners give them soft kisses kay thanks #[ ◉¯] ✧˖° → I handled it like a champion. [ Inbox Interactions ] #[ ◉¯] ✧˖° → The hardest thing about this job is you can't always save everybody. [ Headcanon ]

[mageoftime]

I bought a fit bit and mostly what I've learned is that I'd genuinely probably lose weight if I didn't eat so much

#what i mean by this is the last 3 days at work ive hit the like..standard 10k steps p easily and stuff #.... i must...kick my brother out so i can have a clean kitchrn in which to meal prep bc this is where the unhealthy eatin really stems from #no cheap and healthy options at work really #wveh #note....brother thing is only half a joke im #just #having a real bad time being the sole bread winner in a house with 2 other able bodied adults #whom eat all #the food in the house and refuse to clean up after themselves #like they know we hve roaches and step one to getting rid of roaches is getting clean nd. oy lea ing food just out wherever #but naaaaaaaaah

[vendingmachineman]

1 Axel

1. What kind of person is your OC in a crisis? Are they calm and collected? Do they panic? Or are they chronically the cause?

Axel being Axel, he is almost entirely calm and collected about everything. He thinks he is very cool for this. If something is going wrong, he is usually the one to pull the group together and get a plan made. That is, unless Emma is in any way involved in said crisis. If Emma is in any sort of danger he is panicking, everything is in utmost urgency and he has to act NOW. NO time for planning or keeping cool this is REALLY BAD. (That SAID Axel strongly believes that Emma can take care of herself, and she absolutely can, so it's not like he's constantly worried every time she goes out to fight a guy. It's times where she's been out on patrol for an eerily long time, or calls in for backup during a fight, that he kind of loses it.)

#he thinks she's very cool and is always impressed by how strong she is #he also just. doesn't want to lose her. #ahaha #MagicalPals! Axel #wait should I use a seperate tag for TRAFOSH characters #naaaaaaaaah he's still in MP #Surprise! Ask game

[pommunist]

good for the admins for speaking out against this

When I saw that rp admins aren’t getting paid my brain nearly broke

these admins are on so much. Like. All of the time.

they are doing so much

like QSMP would not be as popular without them, especially the egg admins

there’s so many references to “oh whatever Quackity’s paying you it needs to be more”

BUT ITS NONE????

Idk how much of it is known by Q but

👏pay👏👏your👏👏admins👏

Anyway, do you know if there’s anything that we (as a community) could do? I’d be so down to help out any admins!

yeah that’s CRAZY to me. i could see some positions being volunteer work, but hearing about the hours they put in, with no recognition and in poor conditions naaaaaaaaah

As for help I really don’t know, i’m not affiliated with anyone who is or was on the admin team and they’re the one who would know best how to improve the situation. For now I think it’s important to speak up and relay their statements so that it doesn’t get swept under the rug and forgotten

#qsmp #ask #qsmp discourse #i hate to tag that as discourse #QSMP WORKER RIGHTS #idk bro #they should go on a fucking strike #finally some french culture representation on the qsmp lol

[upn-the-sky]

Give me God of War!! (Ares OOAK, Part 3)

What's going on here? IT'S FINAL

Part 1 - Head | Part 2 - Armor

Million years ago, somewhere near the New Year Eve, when my ooak Ares's armor was complete, I was like: "naaaaaaaaah, accessories will be easy to make". It was a huge underestimation of the situation, as it can be seen now.

I actually had no particular reasons to do it, I mean, his sword would be enough to feed my appetites, but I was like 'I am already decided to make his weapon anyway, why not to replicate attributes of his spider personality from his bossfight with Kratos??'

It was the time when I still had a smile on my face, because at that moment it were problems for the 'future me', and at the first week of January I was very excited about the new challenge. Let's see what we had here under the cut!

_______________

Sword

I decided to start with the thing, which don't need to repeat the same process 6 times

Everything looks pretty understandable, if you decomposite such a simple weapon as a sword. You need to make a handle, you need to make a blade. Intricate design of the handle is required! But the blade sat me on a couch and made me think.

The first thing that you see, when you look at the 3D model, his sword is hecking huge. Like it is half of Ares's own height or maybe a little more and he should not just be able to hold it in his hand, but to stand with it. Doll specifics. You just can't make things heavy. (And I don't really use doll-stands for shelf storaging. I mean if your doll have her own legs, it should stand properly on them by herself.. maybe it is not very clever, who knows..)

Secondly, the blade is actually formed from a fire which flows from all four dog's mouths. If it is a fire, it should be slightly transparent, but have an orange color. And have a wavy relief.. But still be a physical blade. While I thought what material should I use, I made a handle. Ares, you are a dog person, we got it (I guess Cerberus is not safe from pets and playing with fireball every time Ares visits his uncle in the underworld)

After two failing attempts to make sword's blade from the hot glue and epoxy resin I decided to scare plastic with scissors. Actually it turned out very nice. Then I needed to save transparency of the plastic after coloring and make a flamy relief. And glue everything together, sticking fire flows to the dog's mouths. Like this!

It was faster then I thought. ___________

Spider legs

Okay, things became complicated here. First of all, I had a very important question for proforma.

Ares has only 6 insect legs. Is he a spider.... 🕷 or is he a scorpion? 🦂

Spoiler-not-spoiler, he is a spider 🕷 if you thought about it too. Because if we compare his beast anatomy with spider anatomy, we will see that Ares's human legs are the 'missing' 4th pair of "walking legs" (total: 8). And his arms are the palps (which spiders uses for stuffing mouth with food. Or doing palpation, lol).

Secondly, I was a naive summer child, I was like "I will do them in a couple of weeks. I even made a workpieces in one day! And a draft mount for them, which is going to be somehow installed on his back. I need just one or two weeks to finish everything, right??"

AFTER A 2 MONTHS of frustration I admitted to myself that I don't like.. everything about my first view of the finished piece. Put our naivety aside. There were critical points I thought:

Legs need more points of articulation.

They should have relief and blade-like fire tips. We will stay close to the concept art, but god dammit no more dog heads, I see them at the lower pair of legs, but we ignore they are here. It is just too much of dogs, we have plenty enough already.

Ares should be able to stand by himself with them. It means legs should be light-weighted despite their size, and they should be firm at the same time. And there is 6 of them, which means even a small weight will be x6 times multiplied.

We need to attach them to the back normally in the aggregate with the already existing armor and horizontal installing, maybe using an additional slings. Also we need to show how his spider legs distorted and broke his armor between his shoulder blades.

Modification should be removable, cause I want Ares 2 ways, in his own persona look and in his spidersona look.

This plan showed that there was actually a LOT of work to do.. And I decided, eh, let's make legs again with the new concept of articulation.. and a new back piece. Then we'll figure out where to go next..

A MONTH LATER, being very frustrated again, I suddenly found a perfect workpieces for the tips of the spider legs, group up and made an effort!! Sometimes in customizing you just need to find a right piece of plastic to push the project further.

Legs (before and after), back piece and intermediate assembly:

Quickly (before I lose a grip again!) increasing a thickness to the legs, creating a reliefs, and always remembering that I need to leave it as light as possible. Actually my brain creacked at this moment, gladly I could feel how close I am to the finish!

One more assembly before painting. By the way, each leg had an individual relief, like an individual fingerprint on each finger. Just a small detail, which i like a lot.

And it is fine! Two painted back pieces of armor, "normal" and "spider". Love, how wavy 'metal' looks, like his back under the armor was destroyed too. (His face had really painful expression when he grew them before the fight with Kratos. And there was blood on them)

And a final assemble! Turn on his music theme "Duel with Ares" and MEET HIM in his "beast form"

Oh, you forgot your sword, baby. Here you are. Are you happy now?

It is really difficult to make a good photos of him in action. For the more free posing he clearly need a stand, but, well, for the first time I have a lot of good photos.

It is ironic that making these accessories really needed a couple of weeks in total, but ate more months than a whole armor. And I am very proud that I finally finished this customizing progect. With all of my love to old GOW games I want to say that Ares is gorgeous, he deserves million art and fanfics, he taught me how to love character again, he...

He is not happy. Why? What do you mean I forgot the main "accessory"? We have NECA Kratos at home!, isn't it enough?...

....he said it is defenetely not enough, agressively clicking with chitin. Look at him, he feels so lonely without his perfect warrior... Looks like Skeletor will return with Kratos next time! %) because somehow Kratos IS already here, I mean his head and body... Was it my cruel plan from the beginning??

God help me Stay tuned, people

#god of war #gow #ares #ares god of war #greek gods #greek mythology #ares deity #upn the sky handycraft #action figures #kratos

[littlemisssquiggles]

…Sooooo…about that RWBY V9 EPILOGUE ANIMATIC…..

Not lying to tell you, I honestly forgot about RTX this year because I’ve been focused on other things these days. However, thanks to the almighty power of Twitter and the RWBY FNDM community, this squiggle meister was able to check out the V9 Epilogue Animatic that dropped at this year’s panel.

While I’m disappointed there was no announcement for RWBY V10 being greenlit, at least fans were given something to munch on with the featured animatic.

And y’know what folks?

If this animatic was an original draft for the ending of V9 then I am…

… SO FREAKING GLAD that this animatic never made it into the final cut for V9!

Because, for me, not only do I find the final ending of V9 perfect as it is with where it left the story off but also, some revisions need to be done for this epilogue ya’ll.

Don’t get me wrong. I thought this animatic was pretty good. I liked that it confirmed everyone’s shared theory that the others thought RWBYJ had died during the Fall of Atlas. At least that was confirmed to be canon.

However; if there is one part I would love to be revised for this epilogue, it would have to be the final moment after Raven (surprise, surprise but not really cause people theorized that shit since V8) brings RWBYJ to Vacuo and we get to see Nora, Ren and Oscar react to seeing their friends return from the literal dead and…Oscar is just standing there with the Oz-cane…smiling?

But it’s not a smile of deeper emotion. It’s not even his usual soft smile that he always gives Rubes.

Yes, yes, yes I know what ya’ll might be thinking---Squiggles, dear, please, it’s only a rough animatic. It’s not that deep sis---I KNOW…but STILL, bear with me on this one folks.

This is the closest thing to a RWBY V10 crumb that us fans will have to cling onto until the show gets greenlit…whenever. IF EVER.

This animatic is the closest thing to a potential V10 teaser that we have right now. It’s all we have right so if there are FNDM fam members picking it apart and overanalyzing it, can you really blame em?

IT’S ALL WE HAVE for V10.

So pardon me if the Pinehead Rosegarden shipper in me is a lil bummed out by this one shot of a rough, possible first draft animatic of an episode that could easily be the first episode of a possible next season of RWBY.

If I had to imagine a final version of this scene, I could easily see Oscar looking at Ruby softly. But even still…that’s…not the reaction I was expecting for their inevitable reunion.

If  you had told me that that’s not Oscar and is actually Oz in control, I would have a better chance at believing you with that because I am in disbelief that Ruby would return from everyone believing that she and the others had died during the fall of Atlas and…Oscar sees Ruby alive and well for the first time in who knows how long….maybe weeks or a month at best and his reaction is just a normal smile?

Not even a tearful smile or a shocked look like Nora. Just a casual smile before we cut back to Ruby’s final smile, like she was on the verge of tears before it fades to black.

Really? That’s it?  

NAAAAAAAAAH! Nah! Send that shit back to the boards for a second draft.

 #NOTMYRGREUNION

Again, I am fully aware that this is only an animatic and a bigger, more focused emotional reunion could easily happened after this scene in another “episode” if you look at this animatic as being like the end of the first or second episode of a potential RWBY V10.

But still, I can’t help but feel bummed by this a bit. At least the RG shipper in me is a little bummed.

If anything, I’m better off looking at this animatic as a precursor to a better more emotional and PROPER reunion between Ruby and Oscar.

That part I can dream about.

In the mean time, pardon my mini rant cause it’s been a while since I’ve talked about RWBY and I wanted to share my brief thoughts on the animatic for anyone who was curious about my thoughts on it.

~LMS (2023)

#squiggle talks: rwby #rwby v9 animatic #rwby v9 #oscar pine #ruby rose #rwby rosegarden #oscar and ruby rwby

[homobrainjuice]

MAN IT HAVE NOT BEEN 5 SECONDS AND ALREADY CALL ME CUTE & plus I’m done but I Stil going to add more stuff

NAAAAAAAAAH💀

also if ur done can I give me da link

[mublerr]

i love when lee's like "Tickles? naaaaaaaaah."

and theyre suffering alone bcs they didn't get any

#mubby's posting #sfw tickling community #sfw tickle #tword community #tickle content #tickle #tickle thoughts #sfw interaction only

[rainbow-pop-arts]

Hehe……..heh, last part of my Trigun Maximum vol 9 thoughts for @trigunbookclub! 

Some thoughts on TriMax chap 55-56 under the cut! 

Me every time I finish a Trimax chapter/volume

Oh wow, ew. That’s a lotta blood…

Old guy then: Use the Punisher well.

Wolfwood now: *Uses it to shoot the old guy*

…Knives?

LIVIO!!!???

What the- ew!!

*GASP*

Y’ALL IT’S….

RAZLO!! (3 Punishers? Booooo, that’s cheating! (Ò3Ó))

I knew it, it’s a Moon Knight situation

NAAAAAAAAAH, so that’s how Livio became an orphan!!😭

So um…Razlo’s beating up Wolfwood and Wolfwood doesn’t look so great…

Wolfwood’s on the verge of death, and he’s thinking about Vash 🥺

Can this old guy shut up 

Vash...🥺

Me when TriMax

AIN’T. NO. WAY. Gungrave has an anime!!

That’s all for TriMax vol 9! †_(ﾟｰﾟ*)β

Bonus thoughts: Yaaaay, I finally meet Razlo! I guessed right about him being part of Livio, but I was flabbergasted about what happened to Livio’s parents…And will Wolfwood be okay? Razlo beat him up real good…

#trigunbookclub #trigun #trigun maximum #trigun brainrot #trigun thoughts #trimax #trigun manga #nicholas d. wolfwood #nicholas the punisher #livio the double fang #trigun wolfwood #trigun livio

[pupuseriazag]

NAAAAAAAAAH LA GIORGIANA LA MAS TALIA COMAN MIERRRRRRRRRRRDAAAAAA

#zagreus rambling #BSBWBSJSKWISISS #MAJEE MI MAMA Y YO GRITAMOS QUE NO #QUITENLE ESA CHINGADERAAAAA #Perdon me empute sjsbswjzjsjs #“ojala y alguna sea tan mierda de votar a Madis-” -giorgiana votq por ella- HIJA DE LA VERGAAAAAA

[sezzlelot]

Naaaaaaaaah!!! I’m spiralling this has sent me feral

The black fit, the baseball cap, nah

He’s left no crumbs

#idied,dead!

#screaming crying perfect storm #football #jordan henderson #captain #Hendo #is it hot in here? #I’ve been fed god damn it

[fratboykate]

Kybgau - ok but tell us about when Yelena breaks and is like "you want to fuck? Fine. Let's FUCK." And Kate has half a second hesitation when her chest hits the counter like "what did I just do?" And then they're nothing but grunts and moans and Kate's never had sex that good. She's barely able to stand upright for more than a few minutes the rest of the night.

Then cut to the "shit, is this fucking or lovemaking" when Yelenas whispering those sweet Russian nothings in Kate's ear on orgasm #9 and Kate's just got this dopey smile on her face every event because no bathroom is safe from them.

this is the one that did it no doubt:

but also like....that outfit costs like FOURTEEN GRAND which yes, chump change to her, but she also kinda loved the dress so in the back of her mind the entire time she was getting railed she was also lowkey like "careful with the dress careful with the dress careful with the dress oh fuck nevermind the dress" ljksdhgljkdfg

kate was supposed to have dinner at some fancy restaurant with her friends before the party at some private club but she's like 'pregame the pre-party!' and she starts drinking at home, while her glam team is getting her ready. stylist, hair, make-up, everyone...they're all doing shots with her. does yelena have ANY BUSINESS being inside kate's home in any scenario, but especially while she's getting ready for her party? you know she doesnt but kate insisted she *HAD* to be assigned to the backyard, specifically standing by the pool. kate has an indoor/outdoor situation and they're getting her ready in her living room so it's all essentially the same thing. the living room is pretty much next to the pool. she knows what she's doing.

after they're all a little schwasty, kate's like "yelena...come here" and yelena's like "hard pass. i dont drink while i work" and kate's all "is the russian afraid of a little vodka?" and yelena is like:

and POUNDS three shots in the time it takes kate to drink one. hell will freeze before she lets kate embarrass her in front of all her little minions. so now kate's like:

but she's also like "BET! I FINALLY MADE YOU BREAK! GAME FUCKING ON!".

they get her hair and make-up ready. time to get the dress on. yelena hasn't seen it. kate kept this one tight to her chest. she wants it to be A Reveal. kate goes upstairs with her stylist and after a while she comes down. yelena sees her and is like:

(obviously on the inside y'know. she's a professional boi who gives nothing away)

kate sends everyone off and then it's just the two of them left inside the house. she goads yelena into another shot (or two, who's counting?). yelena's already three shots deep so while she's not drunk (she's russian come on) she's also not fully sober. now they're going toe to toe. banter's going a mile a minute. flirting without actually flirting? they invented that. then, all of a sudden, yelena clams up. she gave too much. this is HER JOB. she's a professional. she's back into the role. and inside her head kate's like "naaaaaaaaah...i already saw the cracks. im getting back in either willingly or by force". so yelena is back to having a stick up her ass. a while back kate had convinced her to stop being so formal with her and just call her "kate" but all of a sudden yelena is back to "miss bishop we need to go...yes, miss bishop...no, miss bishop" for the next few hours. it's getting on kate's nerves so fucking bad.

so they're at the party. full swing. she drank more at dinner and she's DEFINITELY knocking them back at the party (plus some other fun party favors that are in her system. favors which FBAU!Yelena would DEFINITELY not approve of haha). yelena is outside by the car when someone comes to get her. "kate requested you inside" and yelena is all "ffs what does this bitch need now". so she's looking for kate in a room where literally everyone is worth at least ten million dollars and she has like $200 in her bank account. she is soooo out of place. she cant find kate. she has booze in her system so she's pissy and doesnt give af so she texts kate like "where are you? i dont see you im going back outside. get one of your friends to help you" and like a second later kate texts back "bathroom. friends cant help with what i need."

and listen, yelena's been around kate when she's fucked. she's held her hair back over the toilet. comes with the territory. it is what it is. so in her head yelena's like "goddamn it its too early for you to be this messy". she makes kate tell her exactly what bathroom she's in and goes to find her. she goes inside and kate's...fine??? so yelena's all "???????? what do you need, miss bishop?" and kate, now all sorts of NOT sober, is done playing games so she just tells her. "you". yelena obviously rebuffs her at first but kate's not letting it go. not this time. and eventually yelena is basically like "you wanna fuck? fine. i'll show you fucking." and before she knows it kate is looking at their reflections in the mirror while she's bent over the sink.

best birthday gift ever???? best birthday gift ever.

can you imagine getting fucked into another universe at your own birthday party? when everyone you know is on the other side of the door? and it's like A WHOLE THING in the social calendar of the year. everyone who's anyone is here to tell you how cool and great you are, meanwhile youre in the bathroom getting put in your place by YOUR EMPLOYEE??? kate's all "are you gonna call me 'miss bishop' now?" and yelena gets all Toppy Top on her and is all "ill call you whatever i want to call you...kate" (but with like...some russian flavor accent in there...katerina type shit y'know?). and kate's all:

anyway...that's how kate learns all the fantasies she had for monthsssssssssssssssssssss, the ones she was convinced were PREMIUM CONTENT fell waaaaaaaay short of the real thing

she's hooked and no one can blame her

#messy messy girls #horrrrrny horrrrrrrrny gals #kybgau #anonymous #answers #kybgaup