#this is my new headcanon XD

[kittenninja14]

OH MY GOSHHH KNOXXX XDDDDD

DUDE UR FULL OF HILARIOUS IDEAS!! AND I LOVE THEM ALL LOLL!! XDD

https://kittenninja14.tumblr.com/post/731916269075480576/hey-yall-i-just-found-this-incredible-video-and

Right so you know the drill I have a headache which means I will be deliriously random nonsense I think Pigsy wears reading glasses and I think Monkey King needs reading glasses but instead he uses his eyes of truth or whatever to see because he'll be darned if he ever admits he needs glasses

[screwpinecaprice]

When your boyrfren is a morning person.

(Idk if Connie's not a morning person, but it'd be funny if she isn't.)

Connie doodles (and a Steven!)

[miss-conner3]

This is a bit of a silly what if question,

But what it be like if ando and the lamb swapped roles (whether it be as an au (where like ando became a cult leader and the lamb died) or if they just randomly decided to swap each other clothing for a day as a joke).

I'm surprised and happy to receive this question (OwO)

Lucky for you, I'm two steps ahead of you (>v<)/

By February of this year, I had already started thinking about what would happen if my two sheep swapped places. I even gave it the name “The Hard Way,” where Ando is forced to wear the red crown after refusing to be the lamb of the prophecy, imposed by The One Who Waits, upon understanding that everything he suffered was due to a family dispute.

This begins a hate relationship between Ando and The One Who Waits, with the obvious ending that he would betray him for denying him the eternal rest that his soul longed for. There was no subtlety here, and Narinder knew that.

Therefore, he was ready.

And still, he lost.

This AU is a bit sad, as Ando got so lost in his anger that when he gained control, he found himself at a dead end, unable to die as it was now death itself, and with the awareness that to give up the crown, he would have to choose another candidate and he... was not willing to impose this responsibility on anyone.

So he eventually went crazy and ended up destroying his world, giving in to the delirium that only then he could rest.

That ending was based almost entirely on my playthrough, where I decided to play as Ando in hard mode and encountered a new type of difficulty that changed the way I play and manage the cult. ¿The result?

I got a morally dubious and emotionally stunted Ando, whose interpersonal relationships ranged from his first husband, whom he cheated on twice (not intentionally), his beloved little brother (who hooked up with half a bishop XD), and a punching bag (Narinder), who dared to tell him that he loved him in front of his first husband. Obviously, on purpose.

So…yeah.

I may have thought a little about “¿What if…?”, with my lamb and Ando swapping roles XP

As for exchanging clothes <(ouo)>

I feel like the lamb could get away with that joke if Ando was willing to swap his clothes because, as you can imagine, he's too embarrassed to wear just the fleece XD

Although I think I could draw that, ¡thanks for the idea!

[sweepingboy]

"General Ming Guang is doing palm reading!"

Gods surround the ruler of North giggling and shoving each other like a bunch of teens. They're hooting and hollering as they listen to old Pei's fortune telling, teasing each other. Sex, love... It seems that some topics will always bug people no matter how many centuries they lived.

Mu Qing rolls his eyes at them but keeps watching from his seat across the table as Pei Ming masterfully flirts with young goddesses clearly abusing his palm reading excuse as he brushes his lips against their delicate hands. They blush and squeak and look at the deity oh so hopefully.

Mu Qing came in terms with his fate long time ago - always in a rush he had no time to fool around. He took his vows, sharpening himself like a sword. A blade that had passed the fire of the forge and the icy waters, the singing steel praising the scarlet drops on the grim metal. Protecting attacking - he has a duty, he chose it himself 800 years ago.

He feels a tug in the ribcage as Pei Ming grabs Xie Lian's hand.

" Ho-ho!, Your Highness! I see a long and happy marriage" Ming Guang winks "death won't be enough to set you apart!" The prince blushes and laughs awkwardly placing a hand over his chest where, Mu Qing knows, the diamond ring is hidden. He clenches fists under the table the bandages digging uncomfortably into his skin.

Quietly he gets up and leaves.

Gentle wind plays with his hair as he stands in the shadows of the garden feeling like a shadow himself; frozen in his power he watches the life passing leaving him behind.

"General Xuan Zhen," familiar voice calls "may I have your hand?"

Mu Qing sighs in annoyance as steady footsteps approach him "I'm not interested, Ming Guang."

"Xuan Zhen," the other general teases " is this how you treat your elders?"

Mu Qing scoffs at him, while Pei Ming smiles charmingly. Exasperated, he lifts his hand and starts taking off the bandages slowly, arranging them into a neat roll as he does so. Inch by inch he reveals areas of burned skin - some pale pink, healing already, some still aggressively red. At least they aren't wet with ichor he thinks. He hated feeling moist cloth against his skin.

General Ming Guang takes his hand carefully.

He traces the lines gently - Mu Qing thought they wouldn't be visible at all remembering how tight was his grip on the red-hot hilt of Zhanmadao but they are even more defined like that, long curves against the puffed flesh.

"Your heart is covered in thorns."

"How original."

"Shush! You're listening to me now, young man!" "It's hard for a living creature to get through the thorn bushes."

Mu Qing rolls his eyes "It's not how you read a palm."

"Many people see it as cruel and dead" the god continues patiently "but I can see that this heart has bled enough. General you have lived many troubled years without warmth - but you know what cold is because you have something to compare it to" the younger god listens to him, as calloused bog fingers dance over the creases of his skin "This stubborn heart will do anything for those it cares about. It will endure pain, reproach, misunderstandings. I like that little guy."

"My dear Xuan Zhen," Pei Ming's thumb is gently massaging the center of the palm "you carry the most beautiful rose in your chest. A lover worthy of you should be willing to prick himself dozens of times to see it's bud. And you must be ready to let it bloom when the time comes."

"If the time comes." Mu Qing whispers.

Pei Ming calmly looks him on the eyes "When. The Heavens are full of brave men."

"Thank you general" he says quietly " I will treasure your very accurate detailed prediction."

"Sure. Want me to do your horoscope too?"

"Please spare me that honour."

Pei Ming laughs and hugs him with one hand and Mu Qing can feel a small smile forming on his lips.

[cienie-isengardu]

Mortal Kombat 1 Behind the Scenes AU: Shang Tsung and Kuai Liang for once agreeing on something

Author's note: Shang Tsung and Kuai Liang finally found a common ground with their dislike for Liu Kang's original timeline he came from. Shang Tsung hates his Titan self, Kuai Liang despite the cryomancer version of him (he may be a bit insecured seeing how cryomancer Kuai Liang immediately took a liking to Bi-Han). No personal prejudice here though, nope, not at all XD

[Earlier posts, from #1 to #52] [Shao learns about Paid Leave (p. 2)] [Johnny’s complaint] [The problems with Smoke’s powers] [Dark Sub-Zero] [Say ‘cheese’!] [Haunted mansion] [Sektor & Cyrax - Scenography (4)] [Shang Tsung’s commentary] [Just one more take! + bonus] [Bi-Han, NO! - Cat on film set] [Bi-Han, NO! - Purrfected] [Bi-Han, Sektor & Cyrax - Scenography (5)] [Bi-Han, NO! - Madam Bo’s “help” during filming scene] [Dark Sub-Zero, p.2] [Saibot’s hug] [I SAID I’M SORRY!]

[townofcadence]

Caleb Doodle!

[dandelion-wings]

PLEASE share those extraneous details you cut from the Lisa whump we need the lore/headcanons

I liked a lot of them, so, sure? XD A lot were embedded in other parts, so I'll post those parts in full with the extra/parentheticals highlighted.

First, not parentheticals, just the easiest things to chop out of a section that was already prose-heavy when I was trying to also convey urgency. Also a potential theme (learning vs. teaching) that I found interesting enough to chuck wholesale into my fic ideas document for later exploration:

"So when Alice designed her Theater, there was enough resin in it for this to revitalize? Like a tree in a Domain?" Jean asks. Even in the midst of the calm that she refuses to let become terror, Lisa feels a spark of pride. She may not be Jean's teacher in the way she is for Razor and Klee, but seeing someone untutored make connections between the information they're given and what they already know will always give her the same joy. "Yes," she says, in the same tone she would to one of those students, "very good.

and

Two years of helping seal Hermanubis, over and over, until it stopped breaking through to overwhelm Cyno and he could develop his own control. She'd done a great deal of research in those two years. Along with all the other learning she'd been doing at the Akademiya, of course. Sleeping two hours a night, working through every meal, walking about with a book in hand so as not to lose a single second in which she might be able to absorb more knowledge.... An unsustainable pace, but one she had sustained for longer than might seem humanly possible. Even then she had eventually burned out. (She sees herself in Jean, sometimes, young and determined and convinced that if she just keeps going, eventually she'll reach the breakthrough point where all the hard work at last becomes *easy*, and all that sacrifice is redeemed by what she gains.) Only after that catastrophic emotional crash had she learned the joys of relaxing, the delights of taking it slow. And the satisfaction of teaching, so much more rewarding than all that learning had ever been. The pursuit of knowledge requires constant sacrifice; *sharing* knowledge demands nothing, only doubles what is given. She had left her notes for Cyrus when she left the Akademiya, and he and Cyno far surpass her now in their expertise on this subject.

I had a whole thing going about "Vision users die young," based in part on a lore theory that I think I picked up from @chrysoula about Vision-users being (ultimately expendable) ways for Celestia to control/process elemental power, but also 50% a dig at the Genshin devs for refusing to give me any playable Beefy Grandpas or Tough Old Women. I pulled it out because all the references for it were an easy thing to rip for pacing:

Very little magic in the modern era doesn't rely on the elements. Even when scholars speak of "old techniques," they're talking about herbalism, which still involves the elemental affinities of certain plants, or tapping the leylines, which remains an occasional if dangerous recourse for those without Visions but had been much more common when Visions were much more rare. They were, before the Cataclysm. (The Akademiya quietly suppresses discussion of *why*.) But there are even older techniques from before the establishment of the Thrones, some still practiced in Liyue and Inazuma under the guise of traditional healing and martial arts, that draw on another source entirely. Her own lifeforce isn't a price Lisa *wishes* to pay. But it is one she knows how to. And it's one Celestia would always have demanded from her, anyway, for that Vision she's so ambivalent about. (People never seem to notice that they've never met a Vision-bearer who isn't *young*. Lisa has done her best to avoid exerting her power, to avoid paying that price into Celestia's coffers. She doesn't miss the irony now.)

(Jean was predestined to die young the moment her Vision appeared, but she'd been taught long before that to accept it as an honor, if in Mondstadt's defense. She would begrudge Lisa the chance to serve more than she would the risk.) (Lisa was predestined to die young the moment her Vision appeared, and she had recoiled from her fate as soon as she realized that truth. She has no desire to rush towards annihilation, even on Mondstadt's behalf.) (Practically, rationally: if they share the work,  *both* of them have a better chance.)

(I do headcanon Lisa as the oldest Mondstadt character by at least 10 years, but mid-to-late-30s is far from old, just puts her that much closer to this theoretical fate.)

and (from Lisa accepting Jean's aid, which happened after the paragraph above in 1.0--moving that to earlier in the ficlet was the other major revision between it and 1.5, and was the reason I wrote that post about twisting Lisa's arm yesterday. I couldn't make her first thought believably be "fine, I'll do this solo" without upping the stakes with something like "Klee's stuck in that," which is a method I already used in the last promptfic, and Jean volunteering way earlier was IC for Jean and fixed that neatly). This whole bit's cut material so I won't color-code here:

Finally, just a bit of speculative magical (and "we don't talk about this in front of Celestia"-themed) worldbuilding that made this paragraph way too chunky:

Sumeran seals tend to use threes (for Dendro, Electro, and Pyro, they say; not for certain trio in their past), Liyue prefers sevens (all seven elements at once grant stability; certainly, with all the adepti also in that court, it has nothing to do with two ruling gods and five generals), and Inazuma likes fives (they're far too secretive to even give their justifications, let alone the historical context behind). Khaenri'ah was emphatically locked into pairs (too gnostic to admit the world has three parts), and Fontaine has a terrible, unstable tendency to use just one anchor-point (that Lisa hopes will change now that it's nearly wiped them out). Mondstadt doesn't have a sealing tradition in the first place as far as the Akademiya is concerned, but Lisa knows better. What else are the Four Winds?

[artsy-dreamer]

So, I was checking out Rin’s page in the Ultra Analysis book 

And I came across THIS: 

I am absolutely reeling at how cute this interaction is??? 🥺🥺🥺🥺 

I can just imagine the context of how it might have happened… 

Rin is in line at a hero meet and greet, tightly clutching an autograph book and wearing his best piece of hero merch, trembling with anticipation as he waits to meet his favorite hero, Ryukyu 

On the outside, he keeps his usual composure (or most of it, anyway) but on the inside, his heart pounds harder with every step he takes towards the front of the line 

And finally, he comes face to face with Ryukyu 

They exchange greetings, Rin muttering a quiet “ni hao” as he processes that oh my gosh I’m talking to my favorite hero right now- 

And after Ryukyu has signed Rin’s autograph book and returned it to him, Rin tries to muster up the words to tell her how much he admires her, how much she’s inspired him in his own journey to become a hero, inspired him to wholeheartedly embrace his quirk and push it to its limits… 

But all that comes out is: 

“Your… your quirk is so cool, ma’am…”

Aiyah! What am I, five? That sounded so lame! 

He quickly perks up when Ryukyu smiles warmly and thanks him, then asks him about his own quirk 

Rin’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree, and he quickly goes into detail explaining how his quirk works and his special moves inspired by her, barely able to contain his excitement 

“You can shoot your own scales? Incredible!” 

Rin’s heart nearly stops- did he hear that right? 

This hero that he admires so much 

This powerful hero in the top 10 

With the coolest quirk he’s ever seen in his life 

Thinks HIS quirk is incredible?? 

HIS??? 

QUIRK???? 

It takes every last bit of restraint Rin has not to break down in happy tears right then and there 

Instead, he sincerely thanks her, his voice a bit wobbly in spite of himself, and when they pose for a picture together, Rin’s smile is bright enough to blind a room 

He leaves the meet and greet walking on air and still smiling brightly, hugging his autograph book close to his chest 

Today was a treasured memory that he won’t be forgetting any time soon

[blackjackkent]

random thought, feel free to ignore- but i wonder, considering the similarity in location, if the "selunite enclave outside the city" aylin and isobel mentioned would be hector's monastery in this worldstate?

HOLY SHIT. \o/

Hang on, I need to drop everything and roll with this idea because I love it. You just made my whole evening.

------

"Father Enric!"

The young acolyte is breathing hard as he comes to a stop inside the small chapel on the north end of Silverlight Monastery.

Enric, startled from his prayers, looks up with a raised eyebrow, then slowly, painfully shifts himself to his feet. (Age is telling on him, after all these years, despite all the training and discipline to which he has devoted his life.) "Calm yourself, Jakob," he says gently, keeping his voice deliberately calm in the face of the younger man's agitation. "Speak softly and without heat. What is it?"

In truth, he can guess. Another sally by the Absolutists - that terrible cult that has risen from the south. They have made three attacks against the monastery thus far, and the walls have held against their arrows and battering rams-- but not without damage, and not without casualty to the monks and clerics within.

The last attack was only three days ago, he thinks bleakly. We are not ready for another so soon.

But Jakob's news surprises him - it is not that at all.

"Two visitors on the road, Father Abbot, sir," the boy says. He is trying to maintain his composure but failing-- there is fear in his expression, and also a sort of perplexed excitement. "They come alone, but armed. One of them is an aasimar, father, and Brother Lloyd on the wall says that where the moonlight touched her, she glowed like a beacon!"

Enric's eyes widen. He reaches out to put a hand on Jakob's shoulder. "See that they are brought to my office at once. And wake someone in the kitchens."

-----

An hour or so later, there is a soft knock at his office door.

"Come in." He turns from where he is standing by the window, and finds himself meeting the eyes of a woman some three or four inches taller than he himself.

She puts an arm across her chest, bows respectfully. "In the name of the Lady we both serve, I greet you, Father Abbot," she says gravely.

Her eyes are so pale as to be almost white, and her skin to match, shot through with lines of gold like a piece of mended pottery. The wings at her back would likely stretch the width of the small office if she extended them, but one is furled at her back and the other wrapped around the shoulders of a smaller and rather exhausted-looking half-elf woman, who is leaned up against the aasimar's side as if huddled against a tree in a storm.

"And I you," Enric answers, inclining his head politely. "You are--" He hesitates. "I hope you will forgive the presumption, but I hope my guess is correct. Are you the Dame Aylin that once walked these lands as our lady's right hand?"

She smiles slowly. "I am. It may be told by the moonlight upon my sword and the righteous fire within my heart."

Enric allows himself the briefest flash of pride at the monastery's record-keeping; even to the armor she wears, she looks exactly as the histories describe her. But that pride is almost lost in a much greater wave of emotion that is pure awe, for Dame Aylin (those same histories say) is the daughter of Selune herself. She has not been seen in the flesh for over a century. The last records of her are in letters from Moonrise before that cursed place fell to darkness.

"You honor us with your presence at Silverlight," he says. He starts to kneel, but she shakes her head impatiently, reaches out and takes him by the arm.

"We have come to aid your fight," she says briskly. "For we have seen the darkness of the Absolute face to face, and know the struggle that has set upon you these many weeks. My darling Isobel and I shall be the sword and shield of my mother on your behalf."

The half-elf at Aylin's side -- Isobel? -- smiles wearily. "After a night's rest, I should hope," she murmurs, then adds to Enric, "We have come many leagues in a short time, that we might be of service to you."

Enric's practiced self-control is serving him well here -- but only with difficulty. The urge to simply gape in astonishment at the two new arrivals is considerable. "To stand at your side against this evil is a blessing none of us would have dreamed of," he says softly. "We would gladly accept, and offer you in return all that is ours in sustenance and shelter."

Aylin looks pleased. "A bargain it is, then," she says. Lifting one eyebrow, she studies Enric thoughtfully for a moment. "I see shades of him in you, most certainly - the shades which would have been passed by a lifetime's teaching. I am sure you are the man Hector has often spoken of. Enric of Trielta."

Enric is so startled that for a moment his self-control slips utterly. And though some of the surprise is at hearing this divine creature utter his name, more is for the source she mentions for her knowledge.

"Hector?" he asks. His eyebrows lift in sudden urgent question. "Forgive me-- do you speak of Hector Carlisle?"

Twin smiles flash onto the faces of both women at the name. "She does indeed," Isobel says.

"Hector is alive?" Even Enric himself is a little surprised at the rush of joy that goes through him at the news. "We all thought-- when the attack came upon the city, that terrible ship... we thought he must be dead. He was only in the market long enough to purchase supplies, but he never came back..."

"I can assure you," Aylin says, "Hector has not only climbed from the pit of that ship but triumphed over forces the likes of which we may all fervently hope you can never comprehend. You should be deeply proud to call him brother."

"As I am, and have been, and will be. Moonmaiden be praised... you are truly a bearer of all the best of news."

A flash of something that might be humor goes through the aasimar's eyes. "Should you expect anything else of Dame Aylin?" she says, raising one eyebrow.

"I--" He blinks, stammering uncertainly.

"My love jests," Isobel says, a little dryly. "It is hard to tell sometimes, I know."

Aylin makes a soft snorting noise but does not dispute the statement.

"But what she says of Hector is true," the half-elf goes on. "He saved us both from a deep darkness at Moonrise Towers, after a century of loss, and has gone on to the city to face down the heart of the Absolute. I will not tell you his story while he still remains to perhaps one day tell you himself... but I will say that he speaks of you, of this place, every day-- with loyalty and gratitude."

She hesitates, then adds delicately, "You may, I suspect, not quite recognize him as the man who left, when he returns again."

That is a sobering thought, and Enric has to pause to consider it for a while before answering. "If he has faced the darkness so closely as you say, it would be foolish of me to expect it," he says finally. "But I cannot express how much it gladdens me to hear that he lives. He has been greatly missed, these last months."

He gestures to the chairs in front of his desk. "Please. Sit. I will have food and drink brought, and I hope you will tell me more of what you have seen, and what still lies ahead to do."

[kingofthewilderwest]

My greatest flaw is that I want to turn every fandom into a musician AU

[pixelatedraindrops]

Imagine Makoto has never gotten comfort or help when he's sick but then after he and Yuma are on good terms, Yuma takes care of him and Makoto's super touched

Yuma can't cook but he gets Makoto a wet rag to help him feel better, let's him lay his head in his lap and just makes let's him rest

Oh, trust me. That exact kind of scenario Iives rent free in my head ALL the time. And I even made it a bit of an angsty headcannon.

~SPOILERS~

~

Due to Makoto having to hide the truth about his body and what he is, he never once let a doctor examine him in the 3 years he’s lived. He may have been the same as all the citizens, but what if he was just slightly different due to being the only “perfect” one of his kind?

Because of this concern, every time he gets sick, he deals with it all alone. He tries to nurse himself the best he can and continues to push himself to work despite his health. Hiding his condition with his voice changing mask, and it fools people every time.

And if it gets bad enough… then he just lets himself die.

He is immortal after all…and not defective.

Hoping he comes back feeling better the next day when he revives. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.

But when Yuma eventually finds this out, he is furious and becomes even more determined to care for Makoto himself. Telling him his life is precious and he should never throw it away like that.

“It’s our…I mean your body…don’t treat it like that…”

Yuma tells him that anytime he ever gets sick and is too afraid to ask for help from his people, that he can just call him. And he’ll come as fast as he can to assist him. (Unless he’s in the middle of a case, then he’d have to wait)

This of course touches Makoto to the point of tears. And he allows his original to continue to take care of him. Their bond growing stronger as he does so.

His original…is a good person.

He… likes him.

But Makoto will take advantage of this…

TOO MUCH

…because he wants yuma to visit him more <3

[sprinkanao]

Ichigo Momomiya x Aoyama Masaya mini comic by me

14/02/2023

[kay9leo]

#MCtober2024 - Week 3 Amortentia Potion pt 1

Based on @lamieboo's #MCtober2024 event (click on #MCtober for more info).

Amortentia Potion To Sebastian, Iñaki smells like the following:

1: Freshly Brewed Coffee/ Hot Chocolate

Iñaki is known to drink some coffee -or as she likes to say it- café con leche in the morning. Not so much because of her American culture and using it to wake her up like her British peers like to assume, but more so because of her Latino upbringing. Her Latino-ness shows more when she is drinking coffee at night with a small roll of bread and cheese to eat. No one knows how she can sleep at night after drinking coffee in the evening. Sebastian is rather shock to hear she's been drinking coffee since she was a toddler. If Iñaki isn't drinking café con leche, she is mostly likely enjoying a cold Scottish morning or evening with chocolate caliente - not the American style of coco powder and hot milk, but from a chocolate tablet she brought from her parents' homeland and hot water.

When she is drink either café con leche or chocolate caliente it's one of the few times Sebastian catches Iñaki being still, content and happy at Hogwarts. The hot beverages' scents is something that makes Sebastian think of her. 2. Mellowsweet

If no one has what is the canon smell of mellowsweet, I would like to imagine it smells like a sweet citrus mint with a dash of chamomile...like a chamomile mojito. Iñaki is always up doing Merlin trials and sometimes drags Sebastian with her, so she always carries mellowsweet around with her. It's one of the smells Sebastian always associates Iñaki with since she always has it on her. Iñaki sometimes likes to chew on it for the minty citrus taste it leaves in her mouth so after the two do have their first kiss at some point in the future, all Sebastian could taste is mellowsweet.

3. The Beach/Sea Air

Iñaki misses home, especially the beaches she went to on Long Island. Often Sebastian would find her hanging out in the beach portion of the vivarium in the Room of Requirements and would sit next to her, just listening to the waves. Or she would ask Sebastian if he wanted to go to the coastal beach in Scotland, despite how cold it can get. The beach always makes her feel like at home and it's where she would spill whatever is bothering her or her life secrets to him without any pushing. There's just something about the beach that relaxes her. It's also where she is the most happiest whenever she feels down. Sometimes the two would just sit in the vivarium beach, listening to the waves splash, the seagulls flying and wheeling as they watch the sunset (this is one memory both would later use for their patronus - moreso Sebastian than Iñaki). The one constant all beaches have is the salty tangy air that reminds Sebastian of Iñaki

...

More on Iñaki "MC" Martinez Cariaga

[ratguy-nico]

So cause Im a man of my word (no) yestarday I was making a lil... redesign? is kindo of a redesign but is also a lot of me not knowing how to draw Vivzie Pop's characters

can you tell character design is my passion? XD I suck at this

Why Via? Via is not my fav character but with her I could experiment with the Goth 2000's Girls so yeah

Im old people so I was alive in the 2012's Goth Girls Era and I used to dream of being able to dress like this but... for reasons I couldn't T^T

And cause I was reading a lot of Helluva Boss fanfics There's headcanon ? tropes ? of Via working for I.M.P. and having the most cute Daughter/Father relationship with Blitzø and having a sisters relationship with with Loona and I cry T^T

SO I have to draw her

Here is my personal favorite and some details of my process

This is like a shitty re design cause I wanted to keep it simple cause in animation the simplier the better but I overcomplicated some parts so is like not enough intricated and not simple enough

Also Im surprised I ended liking this one the most cause is the most similar to Via's original design and yeah that wasn't the idea 😅

This is more me re-igniting of my love for Goth style

I love GOTH OUTFITS

also here are some reference

[gagakareem10]

Bro, I was studying peacefully 😭

And yes, I got a tablet! (From 21st September)

Uncharted © Naughty Dog

[hirazuki]

Me, harmlessly doing fic research: :)

Tolkien Wiki: Eol had "servants similar to himself."

Me: ......................... okay, I know this almost certainly means similar in demeanor (published Silm says "silent and secret as their master") but I'm a slut for the former thrall version of Eol's backstory, so what if we take it to mean that they were other escaped thralls of Angband?

•────────────────────⋅☾ ☽⋅────────────────────•

What if, whether through genuine escape (a rare occurrence) or by Melkor intentionally letting them "escape" to sow distrust and discontent among their kind with their mere presence, even if they do not prove to be his spies, they find their way back to their original lands and homes, only to be shunned and persecuted, just as Melkor had forethought?

(^ which is canon, the text actually goes into it but for the life of me I can't remember where, right now).

What if, through endless wandering thereafter, trying to find a place where they can reside, their footsteps lead a few of them past Nan Elmoth?

What if the primordial night of the world that was, which still resides in this isolated stretch of woods, nestled in safety and secrecy among the roots of ancient trees hidden away from the sun, calls out to them, offering refuge from the sunlight to them, too?

What if Eol, travelling back from the deep mansions of the dwarves in the Blue Mountains, chances upon them: lost in the forest, tangled in the enchantment that had been laid on it in the twilight of Middle Earth when all was young, and that lingers still?

What if, in looking upon them, he immediately recognizes the marks of thralldom -- the scarring, the burning, the bowed backs; misshapen or missing limbs; hollow stares and cracking skin, of a degree more severe than his own, that cannot conveniently be explained away as a result of smithwork, that make it impossible to eke out an existence in even the mildest of conventional society -- and decides to take them in?

What if, quietly, word somehow spreads -- borne by beast or trickling stream or on the chill of northern wind -- that there is a place for the survivors of Angband in the sunless woods, and more start to appear; sometimes in twos, rarely in threes, but mostly alone, ragged and haunted and fever-eyed?

What if Eol, who had been ill at ease within the Girdle and fled from it -- choking, strangling thing that it is -- right into the hungry, snatching all too inviting embrace of this lightless forest, a recluse and his forge, nothing more than a fading echo of the twilit world, suddenly finds he has near-silent footsteps in his hall and low voices in his kitchen and the space that seemed superfluous for a single occupant is now, altogether, not enough?

What if, with every expansion of his abode, his anger at the Noldor for what they brought upon this land -- initially a dim, philosophical thing, that snarled when prodded but, all in all, rather easily fell back into slumber -- also magnifies, until it produces fangs and claws that won't retract, and, in growing large, grows sleepless, too?

What if, with every arrival seeking a position in his service -- Avari, skin shining with sweat, hunted from within and without; Sindar, who can no longer recall the play of starlight upon leaves; even a Noldo, whose shattered eyes render them more alike than not -- his fury grows blacker, unchecked in his isolation from all else, until it matches the shadows that swallow the forest floor?

What if, with every soul he saves from the ravages of daylight, he forfeits a piece of his own?

WHAT IF