#kiya

[xhylin]

so I saw sfawtde + dawtde (MORE UNDER CUT)

i saw sfawtde a few weeks ago and for my first minecraft arg I have to say OH MY GODDDD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD?????????????? it was so ao so good it's actually insane. the story was incredible and the chemistry between the characters was insanely well written

i know this is different from my usual f1 content but I've been sketching with posca pens and decided to post some of my d3rlord art + kiy :p

i have something else in the works and might post it later today

[mtg-cards-hourly]

Slickshot Show-Off

Artist: KIYA TCG Player Link Scryfall Link EDHREC Link

[theforgottenbuu]

There once a Kiya and Dan

There was once a Kiya and Dan, whose bonds were so strong they had to be separated in sake of the time loop…but one day, that loop break, and they appeared in modern day.

ongmmgggmgmmgmgg ❤️❤️❤️

[spaceloverjelly]

have a few doodles

i'll post inktober later today, don't worry!

i also have hiro doodles i need to finish but school is KILLING me. enjoy my short doodles i did with my unhinged friends :) AND ALSO wigglypaint. it's ok i think... just wish the tools could also be colored too... but i'm fine it being a lineart thing...

i'll try to post more art soon! just waiting for my brain to stop trying to send pain signals (maybe i need to see a doctor idk <3)

[life-winners-liveblog]

I drew these based on your designs for the winners a few months back and then just proceeded to forget about them

They don't completely follow the descriptions I was kinda just using your designs as a baseline if you can put it like that

-Kiya

Oh my these designs are amazing Kiya! Love the shading and coloring.

[call-me-copycat]

MICHI!! Hope your day has been going well! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و 💜

7. What character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them?

10. Worst part of fanon?

Hiya hiya! My days been going well, thank you! ( ˶>ᴗ<˶)

The Ask Game in question - send me one? (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)

What character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them?

I don't think there's a singular MHA character that I could say I "hate" but oh my goodness, I'm not a fan of Eri >⁠.⁠< You say you don't like her, you're considered a jerk because she's "cute and innocent"! Anyways, I just grew extremely tired of seeing her squashed next to my favorite characters over the years (starting Aizawa, then the Big 3, and Shinso as well)

I'm not against kids in shows, but I really need them to have a fleshed out personality for me to like them (⁠⇀⁠‸⁠↼⁠‶⁠) The kids from the movies and Kota? I love them! But Eri seems to have 2 purposes only: 1) Look and be cute and 2) Fix whatever the heroes need fixing. Is that completely logical? I'll admit not really, but try as I might, I just can't see it as anything else (⁠ ⁠:⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠∧⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠:⁠ ⁠)

Now, even then I didn't really dislike her due to the way she was written. No, I would say it's the fact that she's constantly shoved in every single place that Aizawa is in when it comes to the fandom - and the price often is Aizawa being dulled down into nothing but "Dadzawa" while all his other features are forgotten :< Her presence strips a few characters of their personalities when it comes to how the fandom treats them and I just can't handle that well

Worst part of fanon

I slightly mentioned this above, but 100% when a character is stripped down into their base personality traits, in which the fandom will choose one and amplify that ten times the amount. The refusal to look even a little deeper into certain characters and formatting them all to a singular label.

Present Mic being The Loud Funny Guy

Aizawa being The Sleepy Cat Dad

Shinso being no good for anything besides being "Aizawa's son"

Tamaki only being seen as "cute adorable little anxious bean who can't do anything himself"

Iida being only known as The Strict/Stuck Up Classmate

Mirio having his sad moments completely forgotten/disregarded

Most of the girls really

Heck I'll even throw Mineta into here! He's had a lot of his bad moments but I saw quite a bit of development in the final war that I thought was pretty good! You can feel two things at once, but I feel it's either a "you're with us or you're against us" mentality

I think it's the refusal to see anything other than a "name tag" as I call it, and it's a shame because all these characters are so fleshed out, and while popular ones (like Bakugo) are broken down and analyzed daily by the fandom, smaller ones (like ran Tamaki) are stuck with that label that the fandom gave them (´-ι_-｀)

- - - - -

Sorry for the rants (⁠；⁠^⁠ω⁠^⁠）I suppose that's the point of the ask game though, no? Anyways thank you for the ask Kiya!

[chrisgraves09]

Individual pics of my minigame sprites of most of the TRtF characters

[ajgrey9647]

Draco Deus

Summary: A 'What-If' arc where Dark Spector is defeated...just not the way everything thought. And things aren't about to get better.

The ground where Dark Spector once stood laid scorched and smoking, the aroma of sulfur and wispy bits of ash wafting on the upswell of wind that heralded the Ranger’s final ascension. His silky uniform, now a deeper viridian green, glittered as if covered in scales with every shift of lumbering muscle, the silver sheen of Gridlight veins pulsating like active lightning. A fang-lined visor that shifted in shades of red like a stoked furnace obscured his features, yet the slight tilt of his glossy helmet was more ominous than thoughtful.

Overwhelmed and exhausted from the onslaught of battle, no one could make sense of what happened, only that the territorial, psychotic son of a bitch had just made good on his promise (warning), obliterating Dark Spector in a brilliant blaze of light and guttural screams of disbelief. And because the universe insists on balance, it naturally filled the vacuum left behind a new super-powered ruler of evil.

Once again, Lord Drakkon was on par with a god, a designation he always claimed as his destiny. Not only did he wield the Dragon and White Tiger coins, but the might of the Morphin Grid, the clawed tendrils of his will consuming and devouring the remaining Good.

The surviving Rangers’ morphers crackled, splintering into crumbling slivers before the links to their power severed as the Dragon God approached them. Every clip of his boots distorting the energy field around him, his own aura palpable like a gathering stormfront. Time itself seemed to shutter and skip.

Hands clad in midnight leather gloves swept in a grand arc before the elaborate gold shield that erupted with deadly horns from his shoulders. When the tyrant spoke, his voice was low, calmly assured…

“A new deity rightfully reigns, my darlings.”

The eerie veins of light grew brighter, slithering about his limbs with growing power.

“It’s time to remake my world, but I’ll do it here…in the Prime Universe.”

Promethea was leveled, its tech and secrets under new ownership. The Command Center was gone, taking Zordon and Alpha with it. And constructed at the heart of Angel Grove, just as in the Coinless world, his immense tower with its golden dragon emblem piercing the sky, shifted into existence with a snap of his fingers.

He selected those who would become ‘family’ by hand, culling them one by one from the crowds they couldn’t hide themselves in. No defense held him at bay when the Dragon God could merely point, and they would materialize before his throne.

Drakkon recreated his closest circle, those who were once almost-friends and lovers, the ones who knew him intimately. Then, there were the ones he laid claim to, for one reason or another, but mostly because a deep sense of ‘mine’ pervaded his thoughts at the mention of their name.

The others…banished, cast out to a distant star system on one of the few hospitable planets, and only remaining alive because he kindly decided to bequeath mercy of a sort.

He sat at the head of the leviathan oak table in the banquet hall, idly swirling a scarlet wine in a crystal chalice, a formality really, as he required neither food nor drink to sustain him. It was for the atmosphere of the occasion that he held it, the light from the chandelier reflecting from his visor. A string quartet played though no band could be seen.

Gathered along each side were his chosen ones.

They were all dressed in elegant formal attire, dressed appropriately for the evening meal. Intricately decorated venetian masks, uniquely designed and adorned with the wearer in mind, covered their upper faces. Some had colorful feathers or paint, jewels, gold filigree, lace, or velvet. Silk and leather gloves laid upon their laps under linen napkins.

At Drakkon’s right sat Ranger Slayer Kimberly Hart, costumed as a crying angel in dark pink and black, her full skirt brushing his knee below the table. On his opposite side, the older Jason Scott was seated, his posture perfect in an ebony-colored military jacket over a blood red dress shirt, the mask perched across his nose resembling a feral beast.

Of course, the other, older former Rangers had a place at the table. Trini, in a mockingly sunny yellow gown, sat across from Zack, who wore a suit in black-on-black. Further down were Farkas Bulkmeier and Eugene Skullovitch, who like the Black Ranger had been freshly resurrected from a deformed lava state. For these two, whom he begrudgingly grown a measure of appreciation, Drakkon selected dark purple and a burnet orange.

But the Dragon God did not limit himself to only those experienced with his regime. The younger Prime Jason Scott sat beside his traumatized doppelganger, his fancy costume scarlet edged in gold and wearing a mask created to resemble death. Why not add the innocent twin of his treasured battle strategist/pet?

He chose Kiya, decked in blue, and Scorpina, boasting a gold, bejeweled corset, because he enjoyed a feisty spirit.  And at the end of the long table, in bright red velvet, Grace Sterling, was looking at him from behind the guise of an owl.

Drakkon sighed contentedly under his helmet, considering the people assembled around him. He turned slightly to address the elder Jason, who, like the others, wore a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Rage simmered there as his hands went through the motions of dining on the rich, flavorful pheasant and gravy.

‘I fucking hate you, asshole! I knew we shouldn’t have trusted a conniving monster like you!’

The tyrant could hear the thought whispered behind those of Jason’s mask, which continued to hiss its special poison into his mind.

‘You all knew what I really was, pet. A leopard doesn’t change its spots, does it?’

The other man’s eyes minutely widened in horror as he struggled to lift his gaze from the food on his plate.

‘Wha…’

Drakkon rolled his wrist and the mask fell silent.

‘I know everything… There’s nothing any of you can hide from me now. Your minds are no longer safe.’

He nodded once and the enchantment lessened enough for Jason to control his head. Swiftly, the creepy grin was replaced with a rabid snarl of fury.

“You goddamn motherfucker…” he started venomously.

Drakkon tapped a finger on his chalice, and the former Red Ranger’s voice became rough and strained, cutting his insult abruptly short and feeble.

“Careful now. You know I have a nasty temper,” he chided. “And terrible impulse control.”

Another simple tap.

Jason cleared his throat, the taste of greasy fowl coating his tongue and making him nauseous.

“I didn’t think you could actually do it!” he spat. “I just hoped it was more of your narcissistic grandstanding bullshit!”

He tried to fight the lifting of his arm to sip at the wine in his glass but failed. Unless he wanted to wear it, Jason had no choice except to drink the aromatic liquid.

Sputtering, he shook his head as the glass lowered back to the table.

“You’re getting your rocks off on all this control, aren’t you, you loony fuck!”

Drakkon only chuckled softly.

“Isn’t this nice though, Jason? Good food and wine…the company of friends…expensive clothes,” he purred. “Luxurious accommodations that are far better than Deadlock, I’m sure.”

He settled his chalice on the cream-colored tablecloth.

“You were wondering why I didn’t put you in another cage. I heard it when we dressed for dinner,” he murmured, reaching out to tap the front of Jason’s canine-esque mask. “I don’t have to be in the immediate vicinity to get inside. I’m already there.”

Drakkon reclined back in his chair, studying the other man’s tense features. Beside him, the former Omega smiled as he dined, his eyes equally furious and fighting the Dragon God’s control.

“Would you prefer to be locked up again? You and your ‘sweet self’? Recreating Deadlock wouldn’t be any more difficult than another snap of my fingers.”

Jason’s face tensed.

“Leave him out of this…”

‘How did you do this?’

Grace Sterling’s sharp thought intruded forcefully, the scientist picking up on the tyrant’s ominous new ability.

‘Dark Spector was the supreme entity of evil. Yet you managed to destroy him. Tell us how!’

Drakkon’s helmet swiveled in her direction at the end of the table, where she was unwillingly making light sounds of laughter at something witty Eugene had uttered under his own mental duress.

Slowly, he hefted himself from the table, purposefully moving along behind his ‘family’. Gloved fingers brushed across the back of the older Jason’s shoulders, carding the thick hair of the Prime version at his side. The sound of his boot heels echoed off the marble floor.

“I’ll humor you, Ms. Sterling. You see, it wasn’t a matter of being more powerful than Dark Spector. Well, not at the crux of it.”

His fingertips traced the line of Scorpina’s spine, Kiya’s forearm…He playfully wound a curl from Trini’s updo around the end of his glove. When he reached Grace, he paused behind her, both hands settling on her shoulders as he gazed back down the table.

“Dark Spector was motivated to win by the desire of more power, to attain that which he’d never had before. His was an offensive fight.”

A tap on Grace’s bare collarbone and the others were able to pause eating and turn their heads to look at their new god.

“As far as I’m concerned, I was defending, in a manner of speaking. Preserving my territory and what was ALREADY mine. I had more to lose, more incentive to come out on top. And, let’s face it, this was my destiny long before Dark Spector. It was written in the Grid.”

No one spoke though they now had the ability.

“I have a vast knowledge of the Grid and how it functions. Everything that’s happened was foretold. I have taken my rightful place as have all of you…”

Ranger Slayer snorted hotly.

“Not by choice, asshole! I thought maybe, just maybe, you’d learned something! That you would be different because you knew what friendship and love were! I wouldn’t have saved you if I’d known you’d turn out to be worse than HIM!”

A chilly laugh as Drakkon reached up to unclasp his helmet.

“He made the same mistake he accused others of…underestimating my determination to keep what I’m owed. So cocky and arrogant, he didn’t even see it coming!”

From behind the Dragon God visage, a youthful, unlined face appeared.

“I waited…all this time. And now I have everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Tommy Oliver, the new Lord Drakkon, the vaunted Ranger deity grinned, showing all his teeth.

“Don’t worry though, darlings. I’ll take much better care of you than he did…”

@augment-techs @lordkingsmith @skyland2703 @threespiritstrio @regaliasonata