#multimuseum

Hug Meme

@multimuseum said: Sparrow will simply stare at Reave in silence. They rarely spoke, and the look alone would HOPEFULLY clarify how they felt about Reaver’s actions. While they weren’t an effigy of morality— they knew this wasn’t entirely above board.

“What? Don’t give me that look.”

                  Reaver was an untamable man. Even Sparrow couldn’t control him completely. Sure, he could greatly influence the hero of skill to do or not do something, but the fact of the matter was that even as close as they were, Reaver was still not going to listen to him all of the time.

@multimuseum said ; “Oh I uh— I don’t ROCK MUSIC very often. But your guitar playing was quite exceptional.” Have a nerdy college boy.

rick is grinning from ear to ear, very SLYLY. he has a great urge to eat this little nerd ALIVE, but he manages to reel it in — at least, for now. he makes a GRAND gesture of sweeping all of fords BOOKS off of his desk. they clatter to the floor, papers RUSTLING and spines shaking.

“ yeah, w - we ROCK pretty HARD. i wonder how well a SIX fingered guitarist would play. ” there’s a TILT to his head and he allows a lock of blue hair to fall over his eyes. he’s still SMILING ( a part of his brain SCREAMS at him - you’re acting like an IDIOT - but looking at ford in his STUPID little sweater and ADORABLE fucking glasses ) and he racks a hand through his hair.

@multimuseum​   :   He’s on the ground— broken in every sense of the word. The ring still on his finger, flesh burned from using a power that was never meant to be his. He had no regrets— no fear. Ardyn was GONE. He had changed FATE. Noct need not sacrifice himself. Ignis was at peace. What he did not expect was to hear the anguished cry of his King. A sting of regret ran through him. Perhaps this was for the best. Noct need not waste his time searching for a dead man. He would know what happened to his dead friend

HE HAD NOT KNOWN PAIN LIKE THIS SINCE HIS YOUTH. Death had, to him, since then been little more than an old friend since then, viewed from a distance with a heavy heart / but empty eyes, a NIGHTMARE / nothing more, a bed time story to keep you on your best behaviour.

But death followed him like a shroud,  the  so called KING OF LIGHT shadowed by the grim reaper with every step marching closer   &&   closer to the end game; a row of tombstones for everyone he loved, all lined up neat to remind him what to DIE FOR. When he saw Ignis’ body laying on the ground, bathing in beautiful blue emanating from their stolen light, Noctis’ whole world had tumbled down upon him then    &&   there; his whole world had crumpled up, laying on the ground. His whole world was...

He forgoes walking, warps to his side   &&   skids to the ground, knees scraping, nausea rising, FEAR BLOOMING LIKE ROSES.

“Ignis... What the FUCK did you DO?!” Hands hover in panicked stutters over ashen flesh, the stark black metal of that CURSED ring standing out against the crevices of molten gold burnt into dying skin; hands to his own hair, pulling in fear, 

He thinks at first he is angry at him; that the nauseating STAB in his gut is unbridled rage fuming inside him, the urge to take him by his shirt collar   &&   shake him, scream, shout, ANYTHING TO MAKE HIM SEE THE IDIOCY OF HIS ACTIONS  —  WASN’T HE SUPPOSED TO BE THE SMART ONE? But it is not rage that sloughs down his cheeks in waves of tears, it’s GRIEF, though he’s loathe to admit. Grief. For the dead, the dying, the gone, hollowing him out / rendering him breathless, unable to speak, bathing in the light of that CURSED CRYSTAL / DAMN IT ALL, DAMN IT ALL TO HELL.

He takes him in his arms, effort exerted with little care for his own body ( Leviathan ravaged ) resting retainer’s head into the crook of his elbow, torso over his bent-knee lap, his sobs shaking both their bodies as he fumbles with his hand for the ring, that damned thing; the thing that took his family from him, that would now take Ignis, that would take him one day too  —

— And with a guttural scream of defiance throws it towards the STUPID  FUCKING  crystal, watching it slide between the metal grates of the catwalk, uncaring for the others behind him panicking, uncaring for the world around him that depended on him now. Why should it be me? Why is it always me? Holding him tight, weeping against his hair / holding his face like he didn’t want to let go.

xehanort: [EYES EMOJI]

I AM HERE FOR IT

@multimuseum​ dropped by in a surprise visit: ❛ "G-Get away!" He's running as hard as he can, shooting back behind him on occasion as he waves at the taller male. "You gotta get out of here-- there's a LOT of them--" Prompto is swift on his feet, grabbing the stranger's hand and tugging it, desperate to ensure NO ONE was hurt on his watch. Whatever was chasing him was WAYYY too tough for him to handle. Retreat was the only option. ❜

░▒▌╳▐ ʜᴇʀᴏ

       THE COMMOTION WAS met with confusion on behalf of the former SOLDIER, mako gleaming eyes darting to the direction of the sound. A blond man with gun in arm, was suddenly urging him to get away while shooting back to where he came from—Seeing a horde of...