#student oc

[annschic]

There should have been more characters and it should have been more complete, but I've been working on this for too long, I've had enough, here's the art🕊️.

I'll do something more epic later, I hope 🙏

[demons-art-hell]

Day 7: Happy Memory

Confession hours bebee

Probably not actually how it goes but it would be similar Not something I've planned out yet

[campus-coalition-world]

Chefé: Patience! Tasty freedom is still on the oven.

[randumb-dork]

Redraw time? I suppose :D

☽✧∙∙✺∙∙✧☽

☽✧∙∙✺∙∙✧☽

Redrew a drawing from 2020 cuz I wanted to draw this dude pfft. He’s an oc named Kazuya Sato, and he’s a high schooler who’s secretly a demon. I just randomly remembered him and really wanted to draw him, so voilà! I’ve really gotta make a ref of him q7q I want a reason to draw his tail pfft

The drawing below is the old one from 2020. Which is technically not in my style cuz I tried incorporating someone else’s style with my own. At that time, my human style was doodoo, so I wanted to experiment 💀

☽✧∙∙✺∙∙✧☽

[tokimeki167]

Fundamental Paper Education oc YIPPPEEE💥💥💥

Miss Sharp Kyine

Ages: 39

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Demisexual and Lesbian

Likes: teaching, being alone, sharp object, reading, and cats.

Dislike: people who annoyed her, bad people and maybe Mrs. Circle

Crush: Mrs. Circle <333

Weapons: Sharp Long Hand that can change the nail size.

Aye Htet

Gender: Genderfluid (She/They)

Sexuality: pansexual

Ages: 16

Likes: sharp object, manga, gorey anime, creepypasta and plushies.

Dislikes: Bad people and Oliver.

Crush: N/A

Weapons: Scissor.

[lamemaster]

I Dropped College to Become a Dark Lord

Genre: Crack, Modern guy in Middle Earth

Pairing: tbh

Summary: At first look, Melkor’s form seemed to be devoid of any sort of essence. A chill ran through the Valar as they considered the possibility of his escape. Tulkas and Orome had almost packed up for their adventure to Middle Earth. But then they had felt it. A sudden surge of life.

AN: wake up Tumblr we missed 4 chapters.

PART 1 | PART 2| Part 7 |

"Derek shuddered, the cold marble floors sending a chill up his spine. 'It's...morose,' he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. He finishes his thought staring back at the Maia by his side, ignoring the one lingering outside the doors.

Next to him, Mairon pranced around the room, dusting the fireplace. 'It's mad at you,' he replied. “Mad at me? Who?” Derek questioned, a shiver running down his spine.

“The House,” Mairon answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Or might I call this darling piece, The Gloaming?” He knelt down petting the fur carpet as if greeting a fond pet.

As if on cue, the room filled with a soft glow from candles and lamps that Derek hadn't noticed before which was insanely odd given, he possessed the sight of Melkor. A quite literal angelic figure. Albeit a fallen one.

After ensuring that his little flinch of surprise had indeed gone unnoticed, Derek or formidable Melkor stepped into the hall lined with threadbare velvet curtains that somehow managed not to gather a touch of dust over the centuries of unkemptness or simply burn the entire place down by catching fire from the uncovered lamps placed conveniently close to them.

The Gloaming seemed to huff in annoyance, the flickering candles almost seeming to hiss. It was as if the manor itself were expressing its displeasure at its lost master, who seemed to love undermining it after such a long-awaited reunion. 

All this Mel- Derek felt projected in his thoughts, which was not creepy at all.

He turned to Mairon, his eyes wide with disbelief. "The manor... is sentient?" His voice was barely a whisper. But his eyes were already drawn to Eonwe, who was sulking on the doorstep like a kicked kitten."

Mairon, now draped dramatically over an emerald green chaise, beamed at him. "Well yes, you created this little bean, with your flame my lord."

Holy Arda, Derek cried in his mind. Why on earth had the Dark Lord chosen this way to project his creative streak? A sentient house? This was beyond bizarre.

Mairon’s idea of the little bean was apparently the fucking massive manor that seemed to be made of Manwe’s worst nightmare. The exact opposite of Taniquetil’s angelic bright halls. This was the dream of every goth’s waking and sleeping thoughts.

“And why cannot Eonwe come in?” Melkor asks. To which Mairon simply raises an offended eyebrow, an offense taken on the behalf of The Gloaming, it is a house with a soul and a taste, my lord!” His lips form into a sulking pout, which Derek concerningly notices as a frequent expression carried by those lips.

"The Gloaming would never tolerate nonsensical guests," the Maia grumbled, his voice a low rumble. He ran his hands through the tassels hanging from the cushion he rested his head on, as if soothing a petulant child. It was as if he were joining the house in its protest.

Unwillingly yet with growing frequency, Derek felt a warmth in Melkor, the Dark Lord's silly little heart. The warmth was so familiar, so similar to the feeling of homecoming after a long semester. It filled him with comfort yet also with a deep sense of loss, the angst of a lost world. And a lost self.

And this angst was more at home in the halls of The Gloaming compared to the astounding beauty of Taniquetil. 

Mairon's heart had never known a home as it did in The Gloaming, not even the palaces of Middle-earth. The Gloaming was his lord's, the closest thing to his lord's heart.

It held his lord's warmth, his fire, his flame. Palaces Mairon had plenty, but The Gloaming was home. And even now, as he saw his lord's suspiciously wet eyes, he couldn't help but feel a sense of peace. They had returned home. A place where he could finally be with his lord.

With the exception of Eonwe, who seemed intent on taking his lord back to the damned Taniquetil, to the weeping fool of a king. But Mairon was no weakling. His lord would not return. No matter what The Gloaming, whose whining presence reminded Mairon of decade-old elflings, would not lose its master again. And if that caused Manwe a few breakdowns, then that was worth it.

And here, he will make his lord fall in love with him once again. He will convince his lord to let go of his ridiculous notion of returning him to Aule.

The Gloaming had slept for a long time. It mourned the loss of its master, its black, impenetrable curtains and closed doors and windows a testament to its grief. With its master and friend gone, it fell silent. Unable to feel the thrumming thoughts of its master's mind, its consciousness drooped, and it fell into a drowsy languor.

In its sleep, The Gloaming dreamed of the past. It remembered the nights it had mischievously warded off his master's room from his friend. It remembered how the sweet delights that it conjured brought a smile to its master's face, in the secrecy of his room.

It also couldn't forget its master's servants who had once wandered its halls. And in the stillness and silence of such aloofness, it grieved the liveliness of its past.

In moments of inconsolable sorrow, it whimpered in its emptiness. Like a child lacking playmates, it crashed plates, slammed doors, and created false chatter of its own, but it made little difference. The Gloaming remained untouched, save for a few wicked elflings who seemed to want to break into its master's rooms. But The Gloaming, in its loyalty, never let anyone else in.

That is until, ages later, it felt a sudden rush of awakening. Lost in the drowsiness of its slumber, The Gloaming awoke to its master's familiar presence. Close, yet achingly far.

And then, as if life rushed into it, it felt the closeness of its past friend even closer. At its doorstep, it flung open its door to see its past friend, now weary but equally fond of The Gloaming as he had been in the past.

In a moment of joy unrivaled, The Gloaming surged with a will to please. It presented its friend with the delicacies of the past. It roused the lamps and lit the hearth. It welcomed Mairon, who slumped down on its plush carpet to greet it.

"I will bring him back," its friend promised, whispering softly. "We will return to you, The Gloaming."

[xmaryhellfire]

OC for a friend 💕

[singing-circuitry]

The sound of a camera shutter snap made him jump slightly, and his attention shifted to Mimi, who was smiling brightly behind her large, sturdy camera. ”Had to get photographic proof of you out from behind a desk,“ she teased. Cy rolled his eyes, face heating up in embarrassment. He was used to Mimi's shutterbug tendencies, but he didn't like being the subject as much as he was. ”Warn me next time,“ he grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets.

AKA- a real unedited image of Cy not reading a book or looking vaguely nervous while trying desperately to look cool and aloof!

i've had this sitting as a WIP for ages, i couldn't figure out how to draw a face at this angle... but @unluckyxse7enart helped me out so Finally i can post this "photograph" from a writing piece i did with these twins (linked above if you'd like to read uwu)