#challenger from the future

[siblingshuffle]

“I am an echo of the weapon that was. And I will no longer be confined to your shadow.”

“You don’t have to do this…!”

“I believe that I do.”

[nijimarii]

first art of 2025 and it's this strange little man. smh

[sea-beam]

let me dream

[valkugo]

"I just don't wanna feel left out."

[carrotsofthepirabbean]

Well I haven't stopped thinking about my fossil hunters AU. So there.

[jon-sedai]

And remember kids, the next time someone tells you, "George R. R. Martin wouldn't make Jon Snow the typical fantasy hero because that's cliche".....

Oh yes he would!

One viewer wants to know what character would you play (on the show)? GRRM: If I could magically clap my hands and become a different person, it would be cool to play Jon Snow who's much more of the classic hero. Everybody wants to be the classic hero! ABC Interview, 2014

GRRM: And the character I’d want to be? Well who wouldn’t want to be Jon Snow — the brooding, Byronic, romantic hero whom all the girls love. Meduza Interview, 2017

In fact he already has ☺️

[fijiitt]

I fuckin’ love meshed together taxidermy like this.

Kinda wish I did something like this with the first deer mount I got from my first buck kill. Woulda been waaay cooler.

[bloomingkyras]

Let's see what other Schwartz Rodriguez siblings up to: (sibling update)

Uncle Raylan came for a visit. After he left TDS 3, he got a scholarship to enroll in university of his choice and his passion was in computer science si he choose Fox bury University. And now, he currently living his best life in San myshuno and work in IT industry. But today, He was so unlucky, that Gigi doesn't like him as much as I thought 😅. Let's see what other sister's up to next.

[midnight-drip]

halogear for the first week of hatchetfield rarepair summer!! this week's prompt is "end of school/start of break", and I really wanted to do them at prom... grace is in her homecoming dress from nerdy prudes, and ruth is in her secretary costume from workin' boys! :)

I might do another drawing later this week... I have a few other ideas for this prompt

@hatchetfield-rarepair-week

[ministerofchaosabsolute]

A little more Proot for the soul ...

[siblingshuffle]

whats the deal with echo?

Thanks for the Question! (Though there’s a lot more to learn if you have any more specific questions :P)

[greenleaf4stuff]

Alike (Impressions From The Lindon Shatterdome #1)

(my other TROP fanfics) (Pacific Rim AU tag on my blog)

Silverscars (hinted), Pacific Rim!AU. A short scene/snippet based on the Pacific Rim AU ideas me, @illegalcerebral, @thephoenixandthecrocodile and others discussed, which can be found here or via the tag on my blog.

The premise for this snippet is: Adar is a human who got turned into a human-kaiju hybrid by Morgoth and Sauron, and in this scene is held in the Eregion Labs of the Lindon Shatterdome after having been caught by the Jaeger pilots. He is trying to both warn Celebrimbor and demonstrate/show an approximation of Sauron’s abilities in manipulation, in order to convey to Celebrimbor why – in Adar’s opinion – the humans are going to loose against the Maia.

Slight warning for Adar deliberately trying to incite Celebrimbor’s negative emotions, as well as canon-typical hints to Adar's past under Morgoth/Sauron!

For those who want to read the fic on AO3, here is the link!

"Of course one such as you, studied and well-read," the other said, eyes roaming over Celebrimbor’s form with a knowing, judging look, "would insist that you can deal with this situation by yourselves. Have you ever even seen those you fight up close before?"

There was a pause, with the inventor finally glancing over towards Adar after all; he just couldn’t help himself. Fury was unfurling in his belly at the other’s words, old hurts and doubts yanked to the surface, so expertly as if the other had cast a lure and Celebrimbor had bitten it without even being aware of doing so in the first place.

It was eerie, the way Adar was watching him, but the inventor still held his gaze. The other stepped even closer to the glass before he continued, in a low voice, "This place will fall, sooner rather than later, if you and the others try and fight this war on two fronts. Only if you let me and my children have your technology, your resources, do we still have a chance."

"I am not some pampered academic," Celebrimbor insisted, voice tight even though he tried to keep his emotions in check. "I was there, when the Nargothrond Shatterdome fell. I witnessed the rampant destruction when you and your kind found and attacked Gondolin. It is you who has no idea what you are talking about, or who you are even talking to."

"Oh, I know exactly who you are," the Moriondo said. His gaze was still fixed on the inventor, eyes unblinking, like a predator assessing whether the one before him was a worthy opponent – or prey. "Celebrimbor Curufinion, grandson of Feanor."

The aforementioned Celebrimbor stilled despite himself, eyes widening just the slightest bit. While Adar’s face didn’t change much as a result, the small quirk to his lips was enough to show that he’d achieved what he set out to do.

"I...did not expect you to be so knowledgeable about my family history," the inventor admitted. Adar already knew that he’d managed to surprise him; it made no sense trying to hide that now. "That still doesn’t mean you know me."

"I know that the two of us are far more alike than you or the others would be comfortable admitting, at least in the eyes of your peers," the Moriondo replied, he finally turned his gaze away. It felt as a heavy blanket had been pulled off of Celebrimbor. The hybrid’s eyes were unusually intense; maybe it was the fact that they seemed to glow, with how blue they were.

Adar began to slowly walk along the large glass pane of his cell again, taking deliberate steps as he continued to speak, seemingly unbothered by his own captivity. "Didn’t your grandfather and his sons play their part in the fall of those Shatterdomes and cities as well, by withholding their Jaeger technology and pursing mindless vengeance instead of protecting others?"

"That’s different," Celebrimbor replied, far too quickly for his own liking. It made something ugly curl in his gut. He could see where this was going, the direction the other was steering them in, and though his mind screamed at him that the other was wrong – had to be wrong – a small, deeply buried part of himself questioned whether he truly was. "My family fought with the humans. They were never on the side of Morgoth."

"Is it though?" Adar asked. "Me and my children were forced into servitude, yet are held accountable for atrocities they are either too young to have committed themselves, or that we were made to commit by Sauron. Neither did you, personally, withhold the Silmarillion class Jaegers from your people. But the public sentiment is that you have to atone for it anyways, isn’t it?"

Celebrimbor swallowed and discreetly gripped his grandfather’s hammer tighter in his fist, until he was sure his knuckles must have turned white and his hand began to both shake and ache from the strain. Thankfully, his face remained blank, at least. He tried to take a calming breath, and willed his voice not to shake as he made to answer, but Adar was faster than him.

"You must know, how preciously little it would take for you to end up in my place. For your people to desert you, turn on you, and insist that you are just like Feanor. Maybe it will be a failure to create a new design. Or maybe it will be the defeat of one of your Jaegers. Maybe you will take too long to come up with a solution for the newest breach. But eventually, they will turn on you, the same they have deserted and turned on me."

It was, at this point, that Celebrimbor found his own courage again. Face pulling into an angry grimace, hammer still in hand, he moved forward and stepped right up to the large glass window. To his frustration, and another feeling he couldn’t name, Adar immediately turned and focused his full attention onto him once more as he did. Their eyes met; where Celebrimbor was sure his own sparked hotly with how incensed he was, Adar’s had gone strangely...gentle, almost.

"My friends," Celebrimbor started, and got so close to the glass his breath fogged it. His greater height over Adar should have been an advantage – and yet, he felt strangely small instead, "would never do that to me. They know me, they know my character. I renounced my family and their actions years ago, and have faithfully served humankind and the Jaeger program for even longer than that. Public sentiment might be as it may, but those closest to me do not judge me this way."

At least, he hoped as much, he didn’t say aloud. It was quite remarkable, from a more removed perspective, just how apt the Moriondo was at finding the spots of him that were still tender, and at prodding them with his words until they ached.

He continued. "My family committed horrible deeds during the war, even against their own people, I will not deny that. But unlike you, they were always, and firmly, on the side of the humans. As am I."

His breath came out elevated, as he stood and stared down at Adar, who remained quiet for long seconds, his eyes slowly moving back and forth between Celebrimbor’s own. The understanding, almost pitying expression on his face further made the inventor’s heckles rise.

"See how easy this was? I did not even try, nor know much of you. And yet I managed to bring forth your anger – the same anger your grandfather carried. Whose destructive rage I was privy to, back then," the Moriondo revealed, voice calm to the point it came out soft.

Celebrimbor blinked, stunned at the implications of Adar’s words, of the fact that he might be so old as to have been alive back when his grandfather was still around, but the other continued before the inventor could gather his thoughts, "If I can do this without even trying, imagine how easy it will be for Sauron to come here and do the same. Or call forth other parts of yourself; your ambition, your kindness, your pride...or worse."

Celebrimbor blinked, and experienced whiplash as Adar spoke – the other’s voice had gone back to being almost completely placid, and while his eyes were still intense, he did not look at Celebrimbor in the same, vaguely threatening way he’d done just moments before.

For all intents and purposes, it seemed like the Moriondo had indeed only tried to rile Celebrimbor up to make his point, though the words he had chosen to do so rang far more true than the inventor was comfortable with. Whether Adar had meant them or not, he’d managed to get across what he’d intended to, and in doing so, left the inventor strangely raw, and visibly shaken.

Some part of him could admit that perhaps, the other had a point. He felt embarassed that he had likely proven the other to be correct in his assessments; that he was unable to control his temper, that his family was still such a difficult topic for him, that all this made him an easy target for manipulation.

To his surprise, he felt something else as well, however:

Sympathy.

Because Adar had revealed things about himself as well, though inadvertently. Had been right about one thing for certain, at the very least; they were alike, in some ways. He could see that now. He could see the same sadness in Adar as he had seen in himself, see the way both of them felt like the odd one out. The outsider. The interloper.

The one others would not listen to, because they considered his insights to come from a flawed perspective, simply for who – or what – he was.

'...the same they have deserted and turned on me...'

"Is that what he did to you? How he got to you?" Celebrimbor asked, and could not feel any satisfaction when he saw Adar still on the other side of the glass, this time. "What did he tap into, when he did?"

It only lasted for a moment, one so brief it almost slipped by unnoticed, but Adar’s face changed into an expression so pained as if Celebrimbor had managed to drive something jagged and sharp through his heart.

It was gone almost as soon as it had appeared, and left behind a Moriondo who looked decidedly...wistful.

"Children," he said, words heavy and reverberating in the silence around them. "He promised me children."

And yet, beneath the immense sadness and regret of his words, there was something else, in the way he beheld Celebrimbor when he turned his eyes towards him again.

Something almost proud.

And intrigued.

To his own surprise, Celebrimbor felt himself straighten at that look. A surge of pride ran through him, one that made him want to preen. He barely managed to push that instinct down again, but it remained, just beneath the surface. He’d have to examine that more closely, later on, when he was alone and far away from those intense, clever eyes.

Or maybe that would be a bad idea. He wasn’t quite sure yet.

[nicollekidman]

tashiart can only ever be Exactly What They Are, patricktashi is the comfort and possibility of pretending like you're both still teenagers, patrickart is sandbox love that actually never died, patricktashiart past present and future all together baby

[oros-ash3s]

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⋆ Febuwhump 2025 ⋆˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊

Day 13 || “Body Horror”

Wren took a deep breath as they pushed the hard drive into the computer, anticipation drumming in the air as they took a seat in the rigid chair placed before the set-up. The computer slowly booted up, faint blue light washing over the cramped space, casting a faint illumination over everything. It made the shadows seem creepier, almost. More haunting. Wren was sure they could hear their heart beating hard in their chest, the pattering so hard that they were almost afraid it would give them away.

They clicked on the files, and in an instant folders upon folders of information flooded the screen, long enough to go for days. The very first to come up was a folder under the name “Research Log – 2029”. They clicked into it and their jaw dropped, stomach churning in horror. There had to be at least a hundred videos in this folder, if not more, all marked by dates. With trembling fingers, almost afraid of what they would find displayed in the videos, they clicked on a random file.

A boy, likely just older than Wren, laid on a sleek silver operating table. To his left, the unfocused image of several doctors stood, just barely in view of the camera. There were shackles on the boy’s wrists and ankles, spreading him out against the table, chaining him. But most horrific of it all, were the tubes. They surrounded the boy, tubes upon tubes running into his face, his throat, his stomach. His face was slack, eyes glassy and half-closed. Heavy, laboured breaths cut through the microphone, turning Wren’s blood cold. He was so small, so fragile. With only a thin blanket draped over his hips, Wren could see the exposed ribs, the starvation that had taken its toll, the bruises marring his pale, plastic-y skin.

The camera panned over to a woman in a lab coat. “Day 122 of injection experimentation.” She began, causing Wren to bite down on their jaw.

Their face twisted into a grimace as the video continued. The scientist poked and prodded at the subject — no, the little boy, Wren corrected themself —pumping in different types of drugs through his system, not caring how it would affect him, how it would break his body and warp his mind. Not stopping even at the weak groans that were escaping from his lips, desperate pleas for a reprieve.

It was only when the scientist chuckled on her breath, the words, “He’s not thinking a single thing right now,” crackling through the microphone, did they allow themself to click out of the video.

This boy was sick.

And they were the ones to do it to him.

Wren is co-owned with @ohagiwrites. Credits go to her because she also helped write this one ੈ✩‧₊˚

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩

TAGLIST || @ohagi505 @vesanal @aalinaaaaaa @fangedcinnamonroll @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @seastarblue @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @iamheretohurt @corinneglass @melodxi @thebookishkiwi @lancedoncrimsonwings @sugaredparchment @cepheusgalaxy @fizzydreamz @robinshandhurts @ieppiq @nosebleedgirlpunch @sunflowerrosy @charlachan @cacophonyofwords

[avionvadion]

If Rook's clubwear doesn't stop coming home I will go feral.

"I see you" YES I KNOW YOU DO, I DO NOT CARE. I KNOW I HAVE A LOT OF VIL CARDS, BUT I WANT TREY. UNTIE HIM AND FREE HIM FROM WHERE YOU HAVE IMPRISONED HIM IN POMEFIORE'S BASEMENT, ROOK HUNT. IF YOU DO NOT, THERE WILL BE CONSEQUENCES.

CONSEQUENCES FOR ME, AND CONSEQUENCES FOR YOU.

UNHAND THE BAKERMAN AND RETURN HIM TO ME. TREY HAS NEVER BEEN LATE IN COMING HOME. HOW DARE YOU ABDUCT HIM. I HAVE ONLY A SINGLE SSR RIDDLE AND HE IS IN DIRE NEED OF A STRAWBERRY TART. RETURN TREY AT ONCE.

[hildryn]

attended my first ever art party today!! all i had in me to do were some very quick, very fast busts before my body started to hurt but it was so nice to see everyone's fashion !! i didn't say much while i was there aside from a few whispers but i was the asura named khivarri !!