#anonymous headcanons

[samandmaxthoughts]

i do feel like most of my hcs for sam and max as a couple are kinda mushy… anyways i think they prob started more comfortable expressing and talking about their feelings after devil’s playhouse (i havent played it YET but i do know what comes out of it… gulp) and as they get older 🥹 probably cuddling and telling the other they love them and all the other stuff AAAAAAHHHHH SAM AND MAX AAAAAHHHHHHH AAAHHHHHHH i cry

PEAK FICTION

[justcallmetwo]

Species: Anonymous

AKA: anon or grey-face

No one knows precisely where they come from, but chances are you've encountered those strange grey faceless beings. Generally they've no unique or discernable features to set them apart, using their anonymity to cause havoc and chaos wherever they end up.

They're extremely mischievious, taking great joy in being problematic and interfering in the lives of anyone they encounter. Mayhem and drama often follow in their wake.

Many Anonymous wield varying degrees of magic. If you're lucky they're curse you with a pair of antlers, if you're not they can do something with far-reaching consequences.

Anons are capable of evolving. There have been multiple documented cases of Anons developing their own forms (tumblrblogs) and developing unique traits. Some (such as Two and Mal) have developed complex identities and faces that allow them to appear, for all intents and purposes, human.

The problem with human-form Anons is it makes them vulnerable to Anonymous Magic.

[h43dc4noncookies]

black raisin cookie has secret crush on red velvet cookie

But does Red Velvet Cookie has a crush on her? We will never know... o.O

[f1nns-archival-survival]

💌 Ed and Finn were gonna adopt a turtle together or some other type of creature but they never did cus they broke up soon after

knowing them they probably would have named it Donatello if it were a turtle lol

[f1nns-archival-survival]

I'm sharing a piece of my soul with you

First Class by RKS Is Ed and Finn after the breakup

https://open.spotify.com/track/0uQxV7ysuBPhbfUkW1WOCp?si=-Q-loekwRJ631InJ3Edirg&context=spotify%3Atrack%3A0uQxV7ysuBPhbfUkW1WOCp

10/10 I really liked this. Relistening and rereading the lyrics, it fits. ^^

[theanonymousladyn]

The Beginning

Long ago, in a world so old its dust is faded from memory, there was a magician so strong in their power that the stars shone and dimmed upon their every whim. Through this power, they saw their home’s destined destruction, swallowed by the endless Void from Beyond.

Seeking to protect their loved ones, they cast a great and terrible spell, ancient and forbidden. The spell stripped the people of their memories and Selves, creating shapeless spectres. All were thrown into a realm that only exists Between the Light and Dark, Expanse and Void.

The Founder, retaining an impression of themselves, sought to prevent the reoccurrence of tragedy. Discovering tomes hidden within the Shadows, they set about creating a new world, one that would stand betwixt beginnings and ends. No longer would the Expanse fill the Void, nor Light sear the Dark. No longer would the Void swallow the Expanse, nor Dark extinguish the Light. The magician sought the sole Truth of Balance, maintaining both Order and Chaos. And thus, the Gray Order was founded, its members the Keepers of this Balance.

Their numbers were too few to accomplish their titanic task, and so the Founder set out to find more willing souls for the cause. Centuries went by, turning into millenia, and the ranks of the Order grew, but slowly. Desperate, the Founder began to seek those unwilling, but with nothing to lose but a name. This earned them the moniker “Stalker.”

The Stalker did as their name implied, snatching those at the brink of despair and loss. Their followers began to do the same, beguiling unhappy souls with promises of wealth, power, freedom, safety… Anything to swell the Order’s influence. Eventually, there was more to rule than one could handle, and so the Council of Elders came into being. The Stalker took a step back, relieved at the loss of burden.

The relief did not linger. Soon realization and guilt flooded through them, weighing more heavily than any responsibility. The Order was failing its goal, tipping the scales towards Chaos and the Void. They had taken the lives of many in their quest, blinded to what they were truly doing. It was painfully obvious the recruitment was for pure greed; no longer did those in charge of the Gray Order care about the Balance. They sought power unimaginable, and Chaos made a much better generator than Order.

Despair crushing them under its heel, the Stalker took refuge in watching the mortals still living in the relative peace of the Expanse. These Light Living, so carefree, so innocent… They began to interfere in small ways, brightening the days of those downhearted and counteracting the more malicious acts of the brotherhood. In a fit of inspiration, they gathered the aide of one of their trusted advisors, one who’d been there since near the Founding, and the Collectors were born, a group of soldiers built to reign in the mages of the Order.

A specific mortal caught their eye, a young traveler from the very stars the Stalker had once loved. They danced attention on him as they had no other, seeing a glimmer of their former self within his heart. Over time, they fell in love, watching him from afar. They desired to prevent him from becoming what they had, and began concentrating their efforts to protect him.

The Elders caught wind. They had great plans for this mortal and no one, not even their Founder would be allowed to stand in their way. They sent the Collectors to apprehend them on charges of treason. Word spread through the Order that the Stalker had been put to death, a near-impossibility, but the Elders had ways of power and the Stalker was not heard from again.

Heartbroken and in mourning, their advisor fled the Order’s Headquarters to the mortal world, hiding herself in her grief. The grief of another woke her from her slumber, drawing her in to a man of metal. She felt a kinship and began speaking to him, and in his ignorance, gave her a name. The Elders saw this as well and, fearing another rebellion, sealed her away, leeching her energy to fuel their purposes.

But one should never name the Nameless, for with names comes power and knowledge. She used her new name to shatter the seal and return to the Shadow plan with the knowledge that Gray mages are harder to kill than one would think. The Founder was alive, she was sure of it.

And with her newfound power, she intended to do everything to restore Balance to the Order and to find her beloved liege if it was the last thing she did.

[theanonymousladyn]

A Story of N

Once upon a time, there was a mother called Naphtali and her son was Earnan. Naphtali was wise, a healer and sorceress in her own right, and Earnan was a bright and inquisitive lad with a gift for the military arts. 

She loved her people, aiding those in need, and she loved her child. In her opinion, there had never been a more beautiful soul. Her son was her constant companion as the people around her home changed throughout the years, growing strong and healthy.

They became a defender of the people, a powerful warrior for justice and honor. Naphtali watched as Earnan left her home with a shield on his back and a hammer in his belt, and she bid him luck and safe travels with tears in her eyes and pride in her heart.

Time passed, and while she missed her beloved child, she had her work to ease the loneliness, as well as letters home. But… the letters stopped coming. Fear began to call, and she sent for word of her son. The answer crushed her. Earnan had died, alone and far away in a war no one could remember the cause.

Blackened with despair, she threw herself into her work, trying to bury her grief in healing others. When that failed to fill the maw of sorrow, she left. The loneliness became unbearable, but she soldiered on, passing her teaching and aide to any who asked.

Stories began to spread of the Wise Woman who smiled through a curtain of tears. She could heal all sorts of ills, from the mending of mortal wounds to the easing of a broken heart. She never asked for payment in return; she only gave. And yet… she never stayed in one place long. There one day, and vanished the next, and she never returned to the same place twice.

No one asked themselves why. It was just the way of the world. As for the Wise Woman herself, she never offered up an explanation, only stating that it was her nature to heal and move with the wind.

Naphtali was a broken woman who fixed the brokenness in others, but nothing could take away the pain of her grief. She clung to the memory of her lost child, and none of the good she did filled the emptiness in her heart. Alone and hurting, she cried out her pain to the skies and stars where only they would hear.

Or so she thought.

Others were listening. Others with their own ideas of removing pain and sorrow, others with power. One of them came to her on the edge of her desolation, and offered to take her loneliness. There were people who needed her gifts, more than any others, and they would offer her a home, a family.

The only price was her name. And it was a price Naphtali paid gladly, eager to end her isolation. They laughed with joy, taking her away with them and stripped her of her pain. But their methods stripped her of other things as well.

They told her she would lose her name. They did not tell her she would lose her Self as well.

When she realized what they were taking, she began to fight, clinging desperately to the very loneliness she’d sought refuge from. She would not let them take the last vestiges of her son away from her.

Never stand between a mother and her child, even if it only a memory. They took her name, her Self, and her full power, and though she does not remember all of her former Life, they missed one detail, a detail that would cost them dearly. Hidden deep within her heart, lay a single glowing, golden strand of memory burned with a mother’s love, and branded with a Name.

Earnan.

It is enough.

[theanonymousladyn]

Faces

Covering one's face is not required in the Order. Yet so many mages do just that, covering themselves in blindfolds, blank masks, anything that hides what lies underneath. Why? For some, it is affectation, an attempt to seem mysterious and powerful. For others, it is a sign of shame, not wishing to see the disasters they have wrought. And for the rest? It is protection, a salvation from the mirror. After all, what is the point of having a face if you do not remember who it belonged to?