#хихи

[ulysses000]

Day 7 ~ Free day ~

[molokolox]

:333333333333

[oppipopi]

I feel his so much

[deadlilmoon]

Oh I forgot to post it here I hope it's gonna be less empty in 2024

[kudargai]

meme that I did a year or two years ago

[alfedurka]

Usagi, please don't die🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷

[suchscary]

Привет!!! Извини что так внезапно я увидела скеле картинку и подумала что она тебе может понравиться!!! Мяу:

ИККККК СПАСИБО БОЛЬШОЕ

today is my day 3>

[wormedeye]

day 3: war @eonweweek

🕊️ Characters: Eönwë x Laireno (elf OC)

🕊️ Synopsis: Eönwë taught to protect. But he couldn’t do it himself.

🕊️ Warnings: character death, english is not my first language+i didn’t read it even once after finishing so sorry for any typos/grammatical errors/etc🙏

Eönwë hated the war. He hated his position of a leader of Host of the Valar, but he never even considered leaving it. He hated being a swordsman, but he couldn’t stop himself from honing his skill. He had to be the best to protect Aman, Arda, the Valar, the Eruhini, Ilmarë. Everyone.

When he was first given a chance to have an apprentice, he refused. The elf that wanted Eönwë to teach him was too young, too unprepared, plus having an apprentice means forming some kind of relationships, closer than he is comfortable with. He didn’t want to. He did train eldar and Maiar occasionally, polishing their skills like his own sword, always the sharpest in Manwë’s armoury, but no one saw him twice.

But there was that vanya. Laireno. Another starry-eyed boy, who dreamt of being a knight. Who didn’t? Elven youth loved romanticised stories about mighty just warriors clad in shining armour, who fought evil Morgoth’s beasts and saved those in need of protection. Eönwë could never understand that obsession with violence. Why dream of facing monsters when you live in this heavenly place?

Eönwë had fought those creatures. He only wished for peace.

What caught the herald’s attention when he looked at that little elf, who had never seen any evil of this world? That wasn’t his idolising adoration for Eönwë. The Maia knew he was a role model for many, and he did his best to live up to those expectations.

Laireno didn’t love Eönwë. He loved the knight that Eönwë was. The skills and knowledge Eönwë could teach him. The path of a warrior Eönwë could open for him. Eönwë just knew it and never thought differently.

When Eönwë asked Laireno why he wanted to fight, the elf said he wanted to become a knight. Many had said. “Why do you want to become a knight?” “To protect.”

And that was it. Eönwë sensed mercifulness in him. Not the violent need to kill enemies. A wish to protect the loved ones, the peace. Truly, he wasn’t the only one to say it, but not everyone said it in the first place.

Oh those big starry eyes, that sweet enthusiasm, that innocent excitement. That was exactly what pained Eönwë to see. Laireno didn’t know the horrors of a real battle, hadn’t seen the terror of destruction. The upcoming war would break him. And by teaching him the secrets of sword fighting Eönwë would be the one to let it happen.

Oh, Laireno, dear Laireno, your name means poet. Do not touch the sword, take a pen, do not hold a sharp blade, but use a sharp word.

Eönwë couldn’t say no to this elf. He couldn’t bring himself to shatter his dream.

He reminded Eönwë of himself, of his past self, of the kind and naive Maia he was long ago, before the destruction of the Lamps. And now he would do anything to protect Laireno. No one was there to protect Eönwë, when he needed.

Oh how terrible he failed.

Eönwë stared at little lifeless body, devastated, murdered, just like the gentle soul before him. A boy that will come home on the shield instead of holding it proudly.

Eönwë sank down on his knees, afraid to touch, afraid to even look, but unable to turn away.

It was him who killed Laireno.

He couldn’t protect. He wasn’t strong enough to kill Laireno’s hopes, but weak enough to kill him. A dead dream would be the lesser evil.

Eönwë leaned down and kissed Laireno’s eyes, the eyes that never shine again.

Was he happy when he got to fight in a real war, protecting real people?

Eönwë kissed Laireno’s pale cheek, the cheeks that never be rosy with love and courage again.

Did he feel like a real knight, when Eönwë sent him to the battle? Oh, he died like one, his beloved little squire.

Eönwë kissed Laireno’s white lips, the lips that never smile again. Maybe, he did want it. At least, Eönwë didn’t have time to break the boys heart.

“You were the best knight ever stepped in Arda, owlet.” Eönwë whispered, pressing his forehead against Laireno’s. “I am so sorry i couldn’t protect you.”

When he pulled away, a tear glistened in the corner of the elf’s eye, as if he cried himself. Eönwë stood up.

He loathed war.

[veikkoalen]

пять лет социона ради этого диалога

[arsfaa3]

хихи хаха

[margobiba]

хихи хаха ой )

[oppipopi]

I love how other artists add hair to the stick versions of the characters. I also want hehe

a few hc about the texture of the hair and the relationship of the old trio: Vic's hair is insanely soft and very pleasant to the touch. He won't admit it, but he likes it when Lord touches his curls, passing the curls through his fingers and massaging the scalp. Chosen hair is coarse, stiff, more like stubble. (But Lord still likes to touch them. And Chosen doesn't mind) Lord is tactile. Very tactile. So he really would like these two to pat him on the head more often, otherwise why else would he have such a head of hair?!

вообще, я хотела сделать Лорду труселя с человеком пауком, но мне стало лень, так что просто представьте что он в них, окей?

[edynervy]

It’s there you’ll find me

к этой картинке была написана прекрасная чудесная замечательная работа авторства Пиджи (t.me/szmaragdowe_migdaly)

очень люблю атмосферу этого текста, отдельное спасибо за отсылки к го��ячо любимому мной инжиру и стори квесту Хайтама с их с Сайно символами в письмах, хихи

текст на ао3:

[sergkonch]

PLEASE WELCOME, DEAR PUBLIC!! ON THE STAGE OF THE AMAZING DIGITAL CIRCUS IS AN OUT-AND-OUTER SPAMTON THE PUPPET!!

У меня есть микро лор для этого балбеса, но мне было лень добавлять его на карточку и как-то стыдно, если честно...

Хихи [я не знаю правильно ли написал то фигню на английском но надеюсь норм]

[bob-mirum]

Надеюсь, ничего страшного, если на русском {{ (>_<) }}

Можно ли увидеть, как Пиццахед ищет что-нибудь у себя в кармане (например, ключи от машины), но достаёт из него всё, что угодно, начиная с носового платочка, заканчивая... не знаю даже, какой-нибудь гигантской крысой с усатым гномом, но не то, что надо, а у рядом стоящего Пеппино с каждым новым предметом всё сильнее повышается тревожность? То есть представьте, Что можно достать из карманов Пиццахеда. Да это же кошмар наяву для бедного итальянца!

Или посмотреть, как Пиццахед пускает мыльные пузыри из своей курительной трубки? Может быть, с кем-то. С ним мало хорошего контента, а в Вашем стиле он просто прекрасен. Да и вообще все у Вас получаются очень классными и приятными глазу

Хихи пасиба Долговато откладывала, потому что немного сложно для отрисовки, но я постаралась хд Translate: Pizzahead: Lost something? Peppino: None of your business... Pizzahead: Let me guess, are these the keys to your Vespa?

Pizzahead: Maybe I have them? Let's see. Hmm, not them...

Pizzahead: Okay, then let's continue! Hm, not them again...

Pizzahead: Well, okay... Some towels... Garden Gnome... a pile of bricks... Dynamite… Oh, I didn't know I had one! Bucket, jar... Pillow with me... oops.

Pizzahead: A box of cheese, workbench, guitar, sofa... Oh, I was looking for it! Piano, big rat...

Peppino: STOP-A IT RIGHT-A NOW!!! WHERE DID YOU GET-A ALL THIS FROM-A?!

[funfunkot]

Хихи)