#and i got to try out a new kind of drawing (sketch-like outlines)

[lostsoulofdragon]

Ooh! May I request a sketch of my Tumblr Sona, Tumblr?

Of course my friend!

I haven't found any reference pictures, so I colorpicked from your pfp =) I hope you like it.

[abby-howard]

I'm going to be asking a lot of artists I follow this question, but how did you develop your style? It SEEMS like most people find their style and stick with it forever, just making improvements and iterations. I tend to work in a lot of different styles because I enjoy doing that, though I know there are things I gravitate towards as well. But I wonder what your journey was and how you got feedback and improved while staying true to what you enjoyed?

Hi there!

I definitely wouldn't say that I've found my style and stuck with it forever-- I feel like each of my projects has asked for a certain kind of art, and has presented new challenges that push me in new directions.

Some of that comes from seeing someone else's work and having something click into place that might fix errors/faults in my own, and then I might try to incorporate that, such as bigger outlines on my characters to help distinguish them from the background, or maybe a way someone else simplifies eyes that can help make mine look less weird.

When I first started drawing, I can see where I encountered certain influences because my sketchbooks suddenly switch to incorporating some new stylistic element that I liked from whatever I was reading/watching at the time. But it was never QUITE right, it was never just copying, there was always something ~wrong~ with it. And that wrongness was my style! As much as I hated it, that was what distinguished my art from being just a copy of someone else's. I hate it less now, and understand that other people see something there that maybe I don't, because it's just what happens when I filter other people's work through my head. My soul, if you will.

There are definitely through-lines with my work, driven by what I like drawing and what comes easily to me-- hatching is almost always a major component, and I like making expressive characters. Here's some of my earliest available stuff, from my old webcomic:

Then not long after that, I started The Last Halloween, which pushed me to challenge myself in both layout and style:

And here's the same comic, years later:

And here's a series I did for kids, where I had to use full color and lay off on the hatching, as well as learn how to reconstruct animals that we have no photo references for, which is definitely a place where style comes majorly into play, whether I wanted it to or not:

Then there was the horror book I did, where I tried to push my work to be less cartoony overall, and to work very hard on improving my hatching:

Then I started work on Scarlet Hollow, where I incorporated a limited/muted palette and had to once again push myself to make less-cartoony art, as well as learn more consistency so I could draw sprite sets. This was a big challenge for me, and has helped me grow as an artist so much!

And most recently, I wrapped up work on Slay the Princess, which required that I go back in the cartoony direction, but in a very different way than I was used to. This took a lot of sketching to figure out, and there's still a decent amount of artistic stumbling in Chapter 1 while I settled into it.

She's drawing on anime/Disney influence, but each Princess required a bit of stylistic variability. Some are more anime, while some are more realistic than even the Scarlet Hollow characters.

So I wouldn't worry too much, honestly! A person's style is often something that reveals itself over the course of their career, rather than something they choose and then try to stick to forever.

Even if you don't think you have a style, you do. It might vary a lot piece by piece, especially if you're trying to closely imitate another person's art, but the more work you do, the more you'll figure out your own strengths and interests!

[darkbluekies]

A oneshot let's see if I do this right, can you do a oneshot of Hedwig meeting the reader? As in the start of it all I wanna see a little mini story of all that

I've got my eye on you

female!yandere OC x reader

Summary: A new students catches the eye of the popular, rich girl and she finds herself falling for you harder than she's ever done before. Hedwig comes up with a plan to lull you in and make sure you'll be hers only.

Warnings: none really, I think, maybe manipulation? Hedwig changes in front of reader (back towards them) but still-

Word count: 2.1k

Senior year. Only one more year until she’s free and gets out of here. She’ll go to Paris. Or Milan. Maybe travel around the world?

Hedwig steps into the classroom and greets her friends. Her father has forced her to go to a normal school to understand the normal people. They’re nice, but she feels like they’re not understanding her in the way her rich friends understand her. Hedwig can’t talk about her life in the same way without getting jealous looks. But she’s come to terms with it now. Her wealth isn’t only negative, she's gotten quite popular by it. If you don’t want her, you want to be her. 

Everything is normal … until she steps her foot into the art classroom for the first time this semester. Someone is sitting in the very spot she normally sits. Someone she’s never seen before. 

“Excuse me”, she says. 

The person — who happens to be you — looks up. 

“Yeah?” you ask quietly. 

“This is my desk”, she says. 

“Oh, I’m sorry … I didn’t know …”

You’re about to take your stuff and leave, but she stops you. 

“No, no, no”, she says. “It’s okay. You can stay. There are two chairs, aren’t there? I’ll sit beside you.”

“I’ll remember it for the next time.”

“Thank you.”

Hedwig's friend has to sit somewhere else. The friend gives you a nasty look before sitting down in the front of the class. 

You start working on your new projects. Hedwig glances over at your self portrait and finds herself smiling. 

“Pretty”, she says. 

“Oh, thank you”, you say quietly without looking at her.

“I don’t know what I should do. I can’t come up with something.” She drops her pencil down on the table. “My brain isn’t working.”

You look up from your portrait and meet her hazel eyes. 

“Why don’t you paint a scenery?” you ask. “That always works.”

Hedwig smiles. “What kind of scenery should I paint? 

You think. “Maybe … a winter landscape? You won’t have to use too many colors and details.”

“Thank you.” She blushes. “What’s your name, by the way? I haven’t seen you before.”

“Y/N, I’m new.”

“Really? No wonder I didn’t know who you were. I’m so sorry for not noticing you earlier.”

She can’t understand how she hasn’t. You’re gorgeous! How has she not noticed you until today? Now that she has, she can’t tear her eyes off of you.

“It’s okay”, you whisper, suddenly embarrassed. “I was actually trying my best not to be noticed.”

“Why?”

You shrug and look away. Hedwig can feel her entire body heat up. She looks down at your hand holding the pen and wants nothing more than to take it in hers. 

“You’re good at drawing”, she says when she realizes that she’s been staring at your hand for a few minutes. Playing it off as staring at your drawing. “It really looks like you.”

“Thank you.”

“Could you help me with mine?”

You nod and turn to her. Hedwig’s holding her pen and you take it out of her hands in a gentle manner that makes her heart flip. Your fingers brush against her hand and it sends electric shocks all throughout her body. She gulps and watches how you help her sketch out an outline of a few mountains before turning back to your own drawing. All nerves in her body are screaming at her to make you touch her again. She can’t understand why she’s suddenly feeling like this, but she knows that she needs more. 

“I-I’m Hedwig by the way”, she says quickly, desperate to pick up the conversation again. 

“I know”, you answer quietly. “Everyone talks about you.”

“Oh.” Hedwig’s suddenly terrified of what you’ve heard about her, maybe people’s gossip has made you dislike her already? She feels a weird longing for you to like her, to give her approval. “What are they saying?”

“They talk about you like you’re a celebrity. They’re talking about your parents and how they think your life is. I’m not really sure, I haven’t heard much.”

“Don’t listen. People are always talking.”

You nod and the situation grows silent again. Hedwig bites her lip. 

“Could you help me again?” she asks. “I don’t know how to do this.”

You give out a small sigh and turn to her again. Unlike last time, you place your hand over hers, guiding her hand and the pen. Hedwig can swear that her heart stops at the feeling of your soft hand against hers. She feels dizzy. 

WHen it’s lunch time, Hedwig asks if you want to eat with her. You nod shyly. You’ve never sat with the popular kids before and you don’t know any of these kids. Only Hedwig and you only met her an hour ago. To your surprise, she barely acknowledges her friends. Her full attention is on you, asking you where you’re from, what made you move here, how your family life looks like, what your interests are, what makes you scared and happy and what kind of person you are. Not a single time during lunch does she look away from your face. She has a sparkling hint in her eyes and a smile on her perfect face. 

The very next day, Hedwig looks up from her desk when you enter the classroom. She’s sitting alone today.

“Y/N, do you want to sit with me?” she asks and removes her bag from the chair beside her. “I saved a seat for you.”

Without answering, you sit down beside her. She’s quick to turn to you and ask you about your morning. 

“Y/N, would you like to come over to my house after school and study?” she asks. “We have a test coming up in two weeks and … I need a study buddy.”

You nod carefully. A bit of help on geometry wouldn’t hurt. And that’s how you come home to Hedwig’s gigantic villa for the first time. It looks more like a smaller mansion than a regular house. A white — almost yellow — Georgian house with lots of details. The entrance to the driveway is a pair of giant black gates to keep unwanted people from coming in. She has a chauffeur who drives her to and from school each day and he greets you nicely, adding honorifics. 

“My parents aren’t home”, Hedwig says over her shoulder as you enter the big hall.

A maid welcomes Hedwig home and offers to take your bag, but you shake your head, too intimidated by the sheer size of Hedwig’s house to be able to think clearly. 

You follow Hedwig upstairs, bag clutched in your hands. 

“This is scaring me a bit …”, you whisper. 

“What?” she asks in worry. 

“All of this … it’s a bit intimidating.”

Hedwig smiles reassuringly. “Don’t be scared. It’s not a museum, it’s a home.”

Hopefully it’s your home too, but Hedwig doesn’t say that.

“Are you hungry?” she asks and opens the door to her room. 

Even her room looks like money. 

“A bit” you admit.”

“Yeah, I noticed that you didn’t eat the school lunch”, Hedwig smiles and. “I don’t blame you. I’ll go tell the chef to prepare something for you, okay? He makes fantastic food.”

“You have a chef?”

“Yeah! You’ll love his food, I promise. He makes the best grilled cheese sandwiches you’ll ever have. I’ll go tell him to make some for you.”

Before you can stop her, she’s already darted out the door. You decide to pass the time by looking around her white room. You find pictures of her and alleged friends on cruises and yachts, her in pools and in the mountains plastered on the wall. This girl seems to have been everywhere. 

“I’m back!” Hedwig smiles and creeps up beside you. “What are you looking at?”

“Just your pictures”, you answer. “Are these your friends?”

“Yeah … they are. I don’t meet them as much because my father wants me to be in a public school with all the other children of our city. They go to a private school together. But I spend a lot of my vacations with them. We’ve been all around the world.”

“I can tell.”

“Do you like to travel?”

“Who doesn’t? I like to explore new places, but it costs a lot to go somewhere.”

“What’s your favorite place to visit?”

You shrug. “I haven’t been to so many places. What’s yours?”

“I really like Paris. It’s a beautiful city and they have such tasty food.” She turns around. “Should we study a little?”

You nod. You sit down at her desk and bring out your calculators.

A knock on the door interrupts you. It's the chef with the grilled cheese sandwiches. Hedwig thanks him and brings the plate over to you. Two perfectly grilled sandwiches are placed on the porcelain. Your mouth waters. 

“Bon appetit”, Hedwig smiles. “They’re all yours.”

“Thank you”, you say shyly but you don’t dare to touch them. Somehow you feel guilty.

“Y/N, are you okay?” 

“Yes … I just feel weird for making your chef make this for me.”

“It’s his job, don’t worry about it. Eat up now!”

This time, you dare to pick it up and take a bite. Heaven has granted access to your mouth.

“I told you it was good”, Hedwig smiles. 

You eat while you study and when you’re finally done, you notice how much time has passed. 

“It seems like you’ll have to stay here overnight …”, Hedwig says and the next sentence she says is nothing but a great lie. “The last bus has gone and my driver has finished for the day. Can your parents pick you up?”

You shake your head. They wouldn’t be pleased to drive you at this hour. It only makes Hedwig smile. Perfect. 

“You can stay here, my bed is big enough for two”, she says. “Just send a quick message to your parents and tell them that you’ll stay here.”

You sigh and do as she says. Your parents send you a heart back. They’re only happy that you’ve made a friend. 

You eat a delicious dinner in the kitchen made by her chef. It hits you that you haven’t seen her parents at all, but you don’t question it. From what you know about her, they’re busy.

When you’re going to bed, Hedwig walks over to her walk-in closet to grab herself a new pair of pajamas for both you and her. One of them being in your size. To your great surprise, she turns her back to you and removes her clothes. You gulp and try to look away in embarrassment. 

“S-Shouldn’t you go into the bathroom to change?” you stutter. 

“Why?” she asks and turns around. “It’s my room. Besides, if models can change in front of twenty people they don’t know … I can change in front of one person I hold dearly. But if you want to change in the bathroom, it’s down the hall. If you want to take a shower, there’s a white towel for you hanging on the hook.”

It sounds like she has planned this. Because she has. 

You do take a shower before you change into her pajamas and return to her room. She’s lying in her bed, scrolling on her phone. 

“We have to be up by seven tomorrow”, she says. “Otherwise we’ll be late to school.”

You nod and walk around the queen sized bed. This feels so wrong somehow. You’ve never shared a bed with someone before and especially not a beautiful girl who changed in front of you fifteen minutes ago. Hedwig turns off her phone and lies down with her front facing you. You try to mirror her motions and soon you're both lying down, facing one another.

“Goodnight, sleep well”, she smiles and turns off the light. 

Her fluffy sheets and soft mattress lull you into a deep slumber. Hedwig, however, can’t seem to be able to close her eyes. She’s staring at your features, wondering how she got so lucky to get you here. Her plan worked! She’s a genius! Soon, you’ll agree to be hers and these kinds of nights will be a recurring thing. Soon, she’ll dare to wrap her arms around you as you go to sleep. She’ll be able to kiss you and give you everything you want. 

Oh, Hedwig can’t wait until you’re fully hers. Then, no one will be able to take you from her, because what Hedwig wants, Hedwig gets … and so has it always been. The ones that cross her always get shoved aside one way or another. 

“You’re mine, my wonderful little Y/N”, she whispers and lets her fingertips brush over your cheek. “I’ll treat you so well, I promise. I’ll make sure you’re safe and happy. My beautiful Y/N.”

[literallyjustscrollingthatisit]

The Process For "Heart Behind The Strings"

Unlike with my first drawing, since I'd already gotten pretty used to the brushes, the first session was a lot more productive. I remember the hair took me a while to flesh out the way I wanted it which is pretty consistent even now. Hair is usually my favorite part to do and I like to really take my time with it.

Session two was not nearly as productive but hey, the hand with the sword is in! Hands have always been the bane of my existence... they're so hard to draw! I definitely used a reference for both hands in this drawing. It should be noted that for a while, I didn't really do "first drafts" and liked to get each stage done and just move on. This is consistent up until the literal last drawing I did where I experimented with rough outlines for positioning. Who knows if I'll stick with it! Being consistent is not really my strongsuit.

I usually like to get the sketching done before I even touch color. However, the front hand was giving me so much trouble that I switched to color because I got so frustrated. But on the brightside: I finally figured out how to screenshot properly so the quality from here on out is better! (Took me an embarrassingly long time.)

The front hand has arrived! It took me way too long to draw this in but the reference helped a lot! It appears I forgot to turn off my guidelines on Kris's face and armor when I took this screenshot... whoops. The other primary addition is the scarf changing a bit. Scarfs and capes are my other favorite thing to draw. They're abnormally fun to outline for some reason.

The flat color has been laid out (except for the armor). And apparently some shading on the underside of the scarf. Also I noticed the background color keeps changing in between. Sometimes I change the color so it's easier on my eyes but then forget to change it back for the screenshot.

Almost everything is colored and shaded by this point! Except the scarf is not fully colored with the stripes yet for some reason. This session also introduced the sweat on the left side (our left) of Kris's face. It's pretty hard to see since it's so small and even harder on the actual one since this isn't the final size of the piece!

The stripes on the scarf have arrived! You'll also notice Kris's body and the back plate are different! The body shape felt off somehow so I changed it here to the one in the final! On another note, you might notice that the shading sometimes looks weird on my drawings. Shading and lighting are still something I'm in the process of learning (and I wasn't taking classes at all during most of these drawings!) so that's why it looks off. I try to look at references or for hair I have a way I like to shade it on top of that.

With Kris complete I moved on to the soul and the gray hands in the back. I'm pretty sure I basically drew one hand then copy and pasted it onto the other side (flipped it too of course). Like I said earlier: hands are hard! I think I liked the black background and just ran with it. It also helped to make the hands kind of just come out of nowhere but still implied to be tied to the soul in some way.

And it's a wrap! On another note: I made a new post on my main blog that may have an alternative version coming to this one later.... (maybe)

Next time, I'll be taking you through "To The Punishment Shack!" That one is actually rather short with only three sessions.

[zombeebunnie]

Your drawing skills have improved significantly with Noah! I thoroughly enjoyed the demo and can't wait for more game updates in the future.

Thank you very much for your thoughtful and kind words! :,] It's been a interesting and fairly long journey but I'm very happy with how much improvement I've been making so far! When I draw him or just things in general I try to incorporate at least one new thing I've learned and go along with it.

For example with this CG, I finally figured out how to correctly do lighting without it having a weird blurry outline look(?) to it and got better at drawing his hoodie correctly. Eventually I will go back and do this with the other CG's I've already drawn as a little quality of life change. :] There's a few things I still need to learn like angled head turns and perspective poses still.

Oh speaking of his hoodie, here's some lore! I want it to be known that the green hoodie he wears is actually oversized and about 1 or 2 sizes bigger than him so it's suppose to look some what baggy on him.

When he's wearing what he considers his pajamas, it's more of a formal fitted turtle neck made out of a sweater-like fabric. :]

I also do this thing where I sketch a pose a few times on top of the original sketch until I get it looking the way I want! There's actually a couple of old CG's from around spring/summer that got scrapped/re-made because he used to be extremely off model in each one and it really bothered me as time went on. :,[

It's also great knowing you enjoyed the demo so much, thank you for playing! The progress I've been making has been steady so far and I have been learning a good amount from it. >:] So far I'm looking around for more temporary music to add to the rain ambiance and testing certain choices to make sure the music/sfx don't overlap and cause any issues. I'm also over looking a lot of the plotline and checking sections in the hopes it continues to go the way I want to correctly! The game has gone through a large amount of changes since early development that I can't share just yet but the idea/story I want to tell is still the same! :]

I will eventually make a master post explaining everything at some point! :]

[lusciakoushiro]

Slow goings, but getting somewhere

Well it's been a little while. As I said before I was purposely not keeping the same crafting pace, but ultimately it came for another reason. On January 21st I lost my mom due to cancer and hadn't been in a good head space to create, though I had projects in mind. It wasn't until late February/early March that I felt a desire to try making something. Nothing fancy. I had been playing the new Theatrhythm and have always adored the sprite work so I drew Hythlodaeus and my husband's character Tia in that style.

I also got myself some skin tone markers for my birthday and tested those out and Eevee seemed like a good candidate.

I also managed to snag Jazza's Pro Sketch Pack just for something special for my birthday. With 2 new sketchbooks that came in the pack, the "dreaded" question of what do I draw on the first page came up. Not really a hard question for me as I knew I was gonna draw my avatar, Luscia.

The spread on the left is a dry media paper and the right is mixed. I miscolored her in the chibi drawing due to bad lighting, but the materials felt really good. I really like the pic in the right, using the iconic picture of FFIV's Kain for inspiration. My only tiff is I wanted to use the acrylic marker to outline her but it seems the marker doesn't play well with graphite. But the win here I think is her skin, which was done with water soluble graphite. I am in LOVE with how that makes her skin look.

And lastly the project I had pop in my head at the beginning of the year. I have always wanted to make my own plushie, but I have 0 know how or skill when it comes to sewing. So I thought " can you make one with felt and fabric hot glue?"

The body you sure can. Though not felt (idk what kind of fabric it is. Amazon just said it was for making dolls) the glue worked very well. Only thing I would suggest is making the pattern a bit larger, especially for the arms and legs or smaller add ons. Since the glue is stiffer turning your pieces inside out becomes slightly more difficult and despite the good bond the glue has can result in tearing. As for the felt...

It can work, though not with so much polish. I think I would have preferred to paint the facial details over the felt. And something to note that some felt sheets (I got these from Michael's) were thicker than others. In this case the black was thicker so him sitting like this is a little awkward due to it. Overall I like him and plan on making Emet-selch as well.

[hbelcherarts246-01]

Process & Reflection (Week 2)

This week we started Assignment 2, Humans of New York. For this assignment, we had to choose a story to create a poster for. We needed to develop a modular grid on a tabloid-sized document in InDesign.

I honestly haven't made a lot of progress on this project because I spent a lot of time trying to decompose the example posters. Then, in studio today, Professor Wanco explained to me that I was thinking about modular grids too rigidly. I was under the impression that modular grids should be evenly spaced rows and columns of squares. However, this is not the case, which I understand now. Since I fundamentally misunderstood what a modular grid was, it meant that my decomposition of the example posters, which are pictured below, was completed incorrectly.

Incorrect decomposition of examples (Above).

However, after Professor Wanco explained it to me, the concept clicked in my head and I believe I completely understand now. While I don't plan on going back and deconstructing the example posters again, I plan on backtracking a bit to develop some better sketches for my poster. This time, I’ll correctly apply the concept of a modular grid.

As for this week's reading reflection… 

This week we started reading our course textbook, Typographic Design Form and Communication, starting with the chapter called "The Evolution of Typography". I'm used to textbooks, even for graphic design courses, having more text than pictures. But this textbook, at least this chapter of the textbook, contains more pictures than words. This challenged me to think conceptually about what was being depicted in the pictures and try to apply them to what we did this week in class.

For example, the first page of the chapter depicts ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics and cuneiform tablets, which at first glance don't seem to relate to modern typographic design. But after looking at them for a little longer and thinking about it, I realized that the ancient Egyptians and Mesopotamians were essentially the original creators of column and grid design. The papyrus on which the hieroglyphics are written and the tablet on which the cuneiform is inscribed are both divided into columns and rows. The photo of hieroglyphs in the bottom left-hand corner almost looks like a grid that one would set up in InDesign, specifically the document grid because it's uniform.

As I moved on in the chapter, none of the pictures or captions really stood out to me much, until I got to Figures 153 and 154, which depict Albrecht Dürer's construction of the letter “B”. In it, he used a grid and geometric shapes, specifically right triangles, to develop a new typeface. I'm not sure if this is how typeface design and development still work to this day, but seeing his process made me understand how much work goes into designing even a single letter of a typeface.

Another thing that caught my eye in the chapter was Figure 172, which depicts the typeface Caslon, specifically Caslon Old Style. The document depicted is from 1720, but it contains what appear to be symbols or small drawings that look strikingly similar to wingdings or modern-day emojis. This doesn't really apply to the project we are working on in class, but I thought it was interesting.

Finally, I found it interesting that in Figure 1-100, the document depicted contains several different typefaces. It mixes Egyptian/slab serif with outline and decorative fonts, all in one document. Nowadays, it's kind of frowned upon to use so many different typefaces, sizes, and weights within one design. But, honestly, it was the 1800s, so I don't blame them for making the most of the different typefaces they had available.

[wwraithsart]

Process gif! Also more about what each part means:

Gonna go left to right:

The color chips on the left side are power, luck, and mobility. I think if Gale were to have a palette the two most common colors would be power and luck, but mobility is also there because it fit. Power because that's the kind of person Gale is, doing something over and over again and powering through it until it turns out right. Luck because she's generally a pretty lucky person, given how often she dives into things headfirst lol. And mobility because she is constantly moving (on, upwards, forwards, etc).

The drizzling capriccioso in the corner is a deliberate reference to the cruel sisyphean floor lol. Maybe there's a chip you need to complete a collection, or its just your best choice and you can't reroll the floors, and it's on that floor. You hate it but you kinda gotta do it, similar to how Gale as a player has to do stuff she hates for her own good (like trying new playstyles and really sucking at them. She hates losing but it'll be better for her in the long run, as a player and a person).

Gale themself is standing in front of the elevator of a 11-19 floor (in other words, just starting that level), a nod to them moving to Splatsville & starting anew.

I think Gale would really like portal levels. Throwing yourself at waves of enemies and hoping you're leveled up enough to survive it (or just flexing how leveled up you are) is very much up their alley.

Then, on Mags' side: the target balloon is a reference to the ROTM level 'Easy Ride, Tricky Targets,' which Mags would like a lot. Anything that's aim-intensive, he'd be into (furthermore, the balloon overlapping its box is meant to parallel the portal on Gale's side overlapping its box).

The tentakook from the 'Don't Tease With Keys' level is there for the same reason (specifically when played with the splatterscope).

The torpedo from Big Man's boss fight is there as a nod to Big Man being Mags' favorite Deep Cut member lol.

On top of that, that box with a nod to a non-final boss parallels Gale's side having a non-final boss (Asynchronous Rondo).

In his picture, Mags is in the Deadly Dance Hall-- Jump, Jump! level. In that level you don't get to keep your weapon, it's just you, so you're relying entirely on yourself & your skills, which is how Mags feels sometimes (even when its not necessarily true). Generally it represents a feeling of vulnerability.

Lastly, the golden egg on the bottom is a reference to the eggs you use in the final boss fight, but is also a nod to Mags being a salmon runner.

The entire piece is diagonally split with the left half being Gale/Side Order, and the right half being Mags/Return of the Mammalians. Top to bottom, Gale's side shows early game to late game, while Mags' is the opposite (an exception for the target balloon and the tentatook-- the former is from 4-8 and the latter is from 6-11, so they're technically out of order. I had to do it to make the composition work lol).

I started this piece March 16th, for reference of how long it took (finishing April 3rd). To be fair, a lot of school stuff got in the way & there were times I only worked on it for 10 mins that day. Here's what one of the early sketches looked like. You can see on the far right I had plans for more complex portraits, but I scrapped the idea (I wrote, "might be biting off more than I can chew"). Other notable scrapped ideas were having Gale use the Luna blaster and using a different brush to outline each box. In one of the earlier progress pics you can also see I'd planned on drawing the Spirit Lifter portion of the end instead of Big Man's torpedo.

If you got this far, thank you for reading! I hope it makes sense.

edit: since tumblr compressed the gif, heres some stills of the earlier progress pics

Gale and Mags if they were agents

Alt ver w/ color noise:

I like how a subtle noise filter looks but I worry I might've been too much. heres the ver with the noise anyway

[jasperygrace]

February 2023 Mid Monthly Report

Hello hello, everyone!

Sorry for the delay with this month's report. It's been a rough couple of weeks since my last report, but I am here with an update!

As always, if you're interested in my work, feel free to check out the Masterlist or my Artstation for more.

So without further ado, let's begin.

Project Progress

Writing Method

So truthfully, I'm behind where I would like to be with Pro:Des right now. It's not so much not knowing what to write and more of trying to find the time to write. I took on this big project early January and it ate up more of my free time than I planned ^^; Time management was never my strong suit.

Anyway, instead of talking about what I have written, why don't we talk about the method I've started using to track progress and get me actually write more.

So if you remember my hiatus update back in September, I got the go-ahead from my professor to use Draft Two as my project for the semester and as a way to get me to write more in shorter periods of time, I started using a spreadsheet to track my progress.

Three times a week, I have an hour set aside just for writing [and/or storyboarding]. After this brief period, I record the kind of writing I did: Outlining, Writing, Editing, and Storyboarding.

Each category is pretty self explanatory, but here I am explaining it anyway.

Writing and Editing count towards my total word count. Writing is anything new I write (new chapter, new scene, etc) while Editing is adjusting something that's already written. You probably don't need to have them as two separate categories, but I do just so I can see what I focused on more that day.

Outlining is notes or snippets I wrote, but don't contribute to my total word count. I may outline a lot, but I don't want total that with the words I actually write towards the manuscript lest the number gets grossly inflated.

Storyboarding is when I dedicated the time to draw sketches for the in-book illustrations rather than writing. Unless you are making an illustrated book like I am, you don't need this category.

And finally, for days I didn't have time to write or didn't have enough spoons to dedicate towards writing, I'll mark the time as Didn't Write.

Because I don't have a lot of time this semester to dedicate towards the writing, it's essential to me to try and have these short bursts of writing. Some progress is better than no progress after all, and if I'm consistent with it, I can get Draft Two done in a timely manner.

Goals

Goals for February:

Finish Act 2 by next report (March 18th)

Work on storyboards for Chpt 3, 5, & 7

Complete Clotho's concept art

Have a video posted for Youtube channel by next report (March 18th)

That's all I've got this month. A fairly short report this month, but I wanted to be sure I wouldn't leave you all empty handed. Thank you for reading and I hope you'll support me in my future endeavors!

[clambuoyance]

do you have any advice of exercises people can do to get better at art?

like for example how doing a bunch of quick timed sketches of photos of poses helps people get better at anatomy

what would you recommend to help people get better at drawing faces, (expression or different shapes), and get better at things like coloring? was there anything that helped you?

(thank you in advance if you end up answering this! i got a new art program and am kind of excited to get back into the groove of working on and improving my art)

Hmm i'll do my best to give a good answer :0

Anatomy

I think the best thing for anatomy is figure drawing, which I myself should definitely do more of...Of course there are different things you can do it with it too.

First, I'd observe a bunch of poses and try to take mental notes of important things like shapes and angles. Basically, you're trying to deconstruct the pose with your mind so you can reconstruct/recreate it later with your own hand. And maybe if you want to have an exercise, pick a theme, like dancing or fighting or sitting and do a bunch of drawings of the same thing!! Or pick a character and make em do a bunch of stuff . Then find a stack of relevant references.

To help with that, it's okay to trace over poses, especiallyyy if you're trying to learn, bc the physical action of drawing it also helps to lock that knowledge in your brain. But when you trace, try not to "mindlessly" trace? Like really outline the shapes of the different limbs and stuff.

The other thing is to draw it while looking at it. So don't trace it, but recreate on your own from scratch. That's what you do with figure drawing. And you get faster the more you do it because you've trained your brain to know what information to look for and how to translate that info to your drawing.

And I said this before but If you're like me and find just drawing random people lacking in motivation, you can do what I do and turn those Poses into Characters I Like...I also love looking at superhero poses, because they really Push the angles and its suppppeeer fun.

2. Faces/Expressions

Well, expressions are my favorite thing to do, so even though I'm lazy with drawing fullbodies, I love taking a character's face and making em do like 10 diff expressions.

I'll try to find my old post about shapes and faces, but yeah an exercise you could do is draw a bunch of weird shapes with some being more organic and some more geometric and then try to find a face you could make out of it!

And then for expressions, when I was younger and starting out I looked up those expression/emotion sheets? And then just took a character and make em do it all. I might make a separate post on just expressions though. But 80% of it is in the eyebrows I think lol they are just so expressive.

3. Coloring

Hmm I should do this more but an exercise you could do is taking a premade color palette and trying to do a piece with just those colors, or pick a theme or mood--cool, warm, monochrome, pastel, etc and experiment with that. Or do like color studies (helps to use movie screenshots) where you try to recreate the colors of a photo.

Theres Probably good videos on YouTube but hope these help

[luveline]

you know, I'm coming right back [Fred Weasley x Reader]

summary: you're a lonely artist and Fred is your adoring model

word count: 2.4k

tags: reader insert, lonely reader, artist reader, seventh year, kids in love, first kiss, getting together, pining, fluff, friends-to-lovers

It was easy for you, usually, to act fine. To feel fine. Any loneliness that clouded your life was pushed firmly into the depths of your thoughts. You tried to focus on the things that mattered, essays and charms and your art.

You loved to draw. You had sketchbooks filled to the brim with sketches, some half finished, others coloured and lined. You drew everything, though you struggled to bring anything from your memory. Everything you drew had to be done right there, right then, with unsuspecting models. You sketched students eating their dinner, scribbled side profiles when you managed a spare minute in class. But you're most impressive artwork was done in the library, where nothing moved. Everyone was silent. You had pages and pages of bored, tired looking students. When exams approached, you hurriedly copied down the expressions of people on the edge of depression and panic.

You had friends, ish. You knew people. You'd had intense friendships that somehow always ended in awkward drifting aparts. Well, you thought. There must be something wrong with me. They liked me before they didn't, so the fault must've been mine.

You huffed out a sigh, pressing your face deep into the textured page of your sketch book, breathing in the smell of charcoal. You were sketching the illusive Fred Weasley, who you'd never truly drawn before. Maybe you had scraps from your second or third year when you'd still attempted to draw moving objects before getting comfortable and accepting that still life was your forte.

He was maddeningly good lucking when his eyebrows puckered in concentration. He seemed to actually be studying for once, sat at a table with his brother, George, and housemates Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet.

You were sat by yourself, and couldn't help listening to his lilting voice as he bantered with his friends. They were talking about Umbridge (the current victim of the Hogwarts' student body hate train), and quidditch, and their recent ban from quidditch. You'd never played.

"Watch out, dolly fell asleep," said one of the girls.

You bit your lip. You'd been nicknamed dolly by the girls in your dorm because of your porcelain doll you'd had since childhood. Even though this year was your last, you still hadn't felt the need to hide her away. She made you feel much less anxious and alone.

The whole school knew, naturally.

"Don't get any funny ideas," said Angelina,  to the twins.

"Come on Angie, you think so little of us?" said George.

"Yesterday I watched you trick a group of forth years into taking puking pastilles." Angelina said.

"It was hardly a trick. We told them they were multi-faceted," said George.

You could hear your heartbeat if you focused. It was in your ears. It bump, bump, bumped.

Bump bump. You flinched, a hand settled on your shoulder quickly moved.

"Wake up, dolly. Library's closing."

You squinted up into Fred's face, head halo'd by candlelight. Lifting your head from the wooden table, you stretched your neck to the left. It clicked.

"Uh..."

"Hmm?" You prompted him, smoothing your hair behind your ears.

"You have - dirt. On your face. Here-" He said, reaching forward. You closed your eyes as he gently wiped the skin above your eyebrow.

"It's charcoal."

"What?"

"It's not dirt," you said, peaking at him through your eyelashes. "It's charcoal."

He looked mildly surprised. You shifted, hoping to cover your sketch before he caught sight of it.

It didn't matter.

"It's me. My gorgeous dolly, you've created quite the masterpiece right there, haven't you? I look vexingly handsome, of course. Thought if that's a consequence of your skill or my handsomeness is anyones guess."

You were lost for words. "Uh, quite."

"Yes, yes, quite. Say, could I keep it?"

"... You want the drawing?"

"I'd love it, if that's okay."

"I," you quickly dug your thumbnail into the paper, tearing carefully at the centre. The paper came away a little ragged and smudged. "Of course. It's yours."

He handled it with care.

The librarian jingled her little bell again.

"Thank you. So, see you?"

"Yep," you agreed.

He nodded his head and bowed out with his friends. You tried not to feel paranoid at their laughter.

-

You were curled up in a hidden alcove, though it was hardly hidden. Most students knew where to seek privacy in the castle. You just so happened to get there first that evening.

You were trying to sketch Fred again. It felt weird to be missing a page from your book, and weirder still that you couldn't remember his face when he wasn't right in front of you. You tried, but it kept going wrong.

When you finally managed one you liked well enough, you had accidentally ruined it with a heavy hand and the wrong shade of brown.

He looked much too brunette.

You carefully rolled your coloured pencils back up, securing the leather ties tightly so as to keep every pencil confined.

Sighing morosely, you flipped to a new page. Things got so complicated sometimes, it made you agitated. You doodled a little sad face in the corner of your page. When the one thing that you enjoyed in life started to go wrong, it set off your whole mood.

Your birthday was coming up. It had been on your mind a lot lately. You'd spend it alone. That's what you figured. Nobody would know it was your birthday, or if they did, you weren't friends now, so...

You began with an arching circle, bisecting the lines appropriately. Feeling out the familiar lines of your own face came easy, the slight upper tilt of your brows, your hair and your pursed mouth. You always looked sad in the mirror, and it showed, dotted here and there when the only thing to draw was your own face.

The rudimentary outline of a birthday cake took form. The candles were unlit.

In a fit of unhappiness, you scratched out your mouth. It was never smiling.

"What did that piece of paper ever do to you?" said a voice.

You jumped. Fred was peering down at you curiously, wringing his hands. You put your pencil between the soft cover and smashed it flat, closed.

"Hi, dolly."

"Weasley."

"Oh, not even a first name?"

"You neglected mine first," you reasoned, rolling the words. He smiled at your joking tone.

"How rude of me. Hi, Y/N," he corrected himself.

"Hi, Weasley."

He smirked.

"Anymore of me in that blessed vessel?"

"Nah. You never stand still."

"If I pose for it?" He asked. You patted the ground in front of you.

He was a lovely model. He stayed infinitely still, more still than you imagined possible for him. He sat at a 3/4ths angle, chin up but not too far, mouth tilted and eyes open.

His eyes were the one thing he couldn't keep still. You tried not to flame in the cheeks everything you'd catch his gaze on you.

You sketched fast, choosing to hatch rather than render, big swooping lines to give the illusion of a depth that wasn't really there. You would've loved to do a full render, maybe even a colour portrait, but he was beginning to look a little antsy.

You set the book on the floor to face him and pushed it into his eyesight softlt. He turned. He looked nice like that, face bent, hair falling into his eyes.

After a moment, he began scrounging through his robe pockets. He set down a box, a lighter, a pair of gloves.

Finally, he set a galleon onto the floor close to your crossed legs.

"For you," he said, smiling at your inquisitive look. "For the drawing."

"Oh, I can't accept that. And I'd like to keep this one, if it's alright."

Fred thought for a moment. "Alright, you keep it. And the galleon, too, for the one you gave me the other day."

You bit back a smile. "I can't take your money, Fred."

"I can't keep having you draw me for free. It's as valuable a service as anything else. Plus, I'm not sure if you know, but I run a lucrative business these days."

You picked up the coin, rubbing your thumb against the engravings thoughtfully. "It's hardly a service."

"A talent, then. A skill. You're very good."

You're neck almost snapped as you looked into his face, wanting to assess his expression for genuineness. He looked earnest, and kind. You blinked away the gathering heat behind your eyes.

"Thank you."

He waved a hand at you. "Think nothing of it."

"Really-" you cleared your throat, "-you're doing me a favour. I'm not good at drawing things that move."

"I'm sure you're better than you think," he said.

You shook your head, smiling smiling smiling.

"What's in the box?"

"Oh, this old thing?" Fred weighed the box in his hands. It was soft at the corners, like a simple jewelry box that you had in your trunk. He offered it to you. You opened it carefully, the lid sliding free with a shhhhh sound. Inside was an evil looking fruit pastille, a match stick and a dried up flower petal.

It felt like a very private thing to see, suddenly. Such an eclectic collection of items couldn't be random.

"The first puking pastille George and I made. Or rather, the second - the first was forcibly fed to Lee Jordan in our third year. The match stick is from my Uncle's matchbox. I never met him. And the flower was from Ginny, when she was 9." He sounded nervous.

"It's a memory box."

"I- yes. It is. Things are sometimes so miserable now, with Umbridge and you-know-who. Scary, even. I look at them when I feel like it won't ever end."

You took them in for a little while longer and then placed the lid onto the box with nimble fingers. You scratched the lid with a fingernail.

"It's nice. You're right. Things are so awful right now, it's good to have reminders of why we keep going."

"Exaclty. Dolly, can I interest you in a fruit pastille?"

"Not on your life."

"They're perfectly edible!"

"Sure, Fred."

-

The honest conversation you'd shared with Fred was a catalyst between you. He often came to find you, each time whining and nagging you to just sit in the library like most people do.

"What, so your housemates can throw paper balls at me?"

"They thought you were sleeping!"

A likely story, you thought. He sometimes asked you to draw him, posing with the elegance of a natural born model. It was great for you personally, you felt that you were really getting a feel for his face. Eventually, you were able to draw his face from memory, the details of his nose coming to your fingers as easily as a first year spell.

It became about capturing emotion. You could capture his likeness now without a second thought, but his emotions were much more complicated. How would you show his veiled frustration the day Umbridge kicked him off the quidditch team? Through the clenching of his jaw? The shy veins in his forehead? How did you showcase the fear when he'd come back to Hogwarts after Christmas break, through his eyes, downturned and squinting just a little?

Today, it was poorly hidden elation. "How come you're so happy?" You asked, pencil between your teeth. He grinned. You measured his face with your thumb in the air, forming an L.

"Is it a prank?"

"You're thinking too small."

"A new product?"

"Still need to go bigger!"

"Hmmm," you hummed. Measure twice, cut once. Or in your case, sketch once.

"George and I, we're gonna open a shop."

"A section at Zonko's isn't enough for you?" You asked, casually, though you were very very happy for him.

"It's going to be amazing. We're going to run it, just the two of us, and you won't catch me in these scrappy long sleeves anymore. The next time you see me, I'll be in a full suit and tie."

"The next time? Is that not tomorrow?"

Fred closed his mouth, realising his mistake. He had revealed something he hadn't intended to. "We're leaving," he confessed. "We were going to wait for our NEWTs but... Well, we won't need them. This is going to work."

"So. You're leaving today?" You asked, crestfallen.

"Hey," Fred said, rubbing a placating hand over the curve of your shoulder. "Tomorrow. During the DADA OWL. We have a plan."

"This is goodbye?"

"No! No. Not if you don't want it to be. Actually, I've been meaning to ask you something, and maybe now isn't the best time, I had this whole letter planned and I didn't want to distract you from your exams and-"

"What do you want to ask me?"

Fred straightened. "I wanted to ask - will you go out with me? Not, you don't have to be my girlfriend if it's too soon, I'd love to take you for food someplace, I was going to ask you to Hogsmeade, but when the shop officially became ours, the plans changed so fast and I didn't know if you'd still want-" you cut off his rambling.

"I'll be your girlfriend," you said.

"You will?"

"Sure, if you'll be my boyfriend," you murmured.

Fred moved the arm that had been on your shoulder to the nape of your neck. "That's a dealbreaker," he said, leaning in.

He kissed you chastely on the lips first and then pulled back to look into your face. You chased him, a moment of bravery, and opened your mouth to taste him. He was sweet, like sugar. Your sketch pad crinkled beneath you both as he pressed forward. Your chests touched, heaving.

"You're not gonna be my boyfriend?" You asked against his mouth, breathing hard.

"I'm gonna be much more than that, dolly," he said heatedly.

Your mouth was tingling. "Kiss me again?"

You gasped at the force of him, laughing. He laughed too against your lips, and the sound tickled. He gave you a multitude of short and sweet kisses before pulling away again.

He wiped the wetness from your lip with his pinky finger. "Godric, you're cute. Look how flushed you are! You're insane."

Something churned in your stomach. The butterflies had acquired a trampoline. You felt happier than you had in a very long time. "You're not half-bad yourself, Weasley."

[softness-and-shattering-art]

Ok process!

(And btw I may have fucked up a new pen by deciding to re-draw the lines over the pastel, after experimenting and seeing that that didnt work well, bc I got lost in the moment. The ink is exactly flowing nicely now. If you have any tips to save the pen please say!)

I bought some new materials the other day (a3 art diary, brown a4 diary, white pencils, black marker pen for outlining), and Ive never actually had any of those materials before except the pen, so I wanted to start messing around with it. And Im hoping Big Paper will help my brain in deciding thats worth getting the (acrylic, mostly) paints out. (I have about 0.1 watercolour skills so thats a whole project to learn).

So first I just fucked around with the above and pencil and and oil pastels to just see how it looks together and on brown paper. (Midtone paper?)(the adhd brackets are strong today).

To be perfectly honest my first days attempt at Harrow looks like this:

[Image description: a Harrow face in pencil on brown paper. Her nose line and bottom lip have been coloured in white pencil. Her top lip and around her eyes are done in black pastel, which are comically large compared to the face size. It looks like someone with a big black mustache in a superhero eye mask. Little bits of pastel have escaped the eye outline and lodged themselves in the details of the eyes themselves. Its pretty silly.]

I remind myself that I do in fact have the entire page to work on, and I end up with attempt 2:

[Image description: A pencil sketch of Harrow's face and neck. Its got the hair, the anger, the bone earrings; but none of the face paint or blood. Also the ears are relatively detailed which Im also proud of. The ears are quite prominent, for some reason this is important to me. Her ears are expressive.]

Next up, linework in my new pen (?RIP? HELP!).

[Image description: Same as above, now outlined in pen. The eyes now have an obvious reflection circle on the pupil. Her head hair, eyebrows and curly sideburns have been done in the outline pen.]

Some lines are a little wobblier than ideal, but Im really learning to let go of "perfection" in my art. So what some lines are a little wobbly, the art is still doing all the things Im trying to get it to do. My hand will strengthen and make swoopier lines, or it won't. Doesnt make this bad art. Just a little wobbly art, and thats fine. (Maybe a slightly thicker pen would look more like in my minds eye?)

I considered giving her a tiny bit of upper lip hair, but I decided that 1. It wouldnt work well visually with the face paint lines and 2. I dont think she got far enough into puberty. Tbh Id be kinda surprised if she menstruates with any kind of regularity.

Next picture I took because I knew it would look cool and yay new materials.

[Image description: same as above; Harrows eyes, teeth, and bone earrings have been coloured in white pencil, which looks both bright and comfortable against the brown paper. Its kind of like highlights? Its gently pretty. Also her pupil is coloured in black pen and the...iris? The coloured bit? Has been filled in grey pencil.]

Not much else to say, the white looks super cool.

I dont remember exactly which is next, I hope this is a fantabulous introduction for it anyway.

Almost there!

[Image description: Same as above, now with Harrows black face paint done in oil pastel. The design is symmetrical side to side. Big circle-diamond shapes around the eyes, lines coming down both sides of her forehead. The sides of her nose are also covered, sort of swirly T-shapes on either cheek, a line under the curve of her nose, straight vertical lines on her upper lip, two slanty lines on her chin, and these little dots on the diagonal between nose and eye. The top of her neck has sort of swirly tentacle shapes going downward.]

I think in hindsight, doing black pastel over top of white would have been easier than dodging the black to put down the white and also try avoid too much grey smudging. Although given that she's worked up, I think some smudging actually adds to the realism. There, I totally had that planned the entire time because Im super thoughtful and totally didnt mess up my NEW PEN.

I was going to take a picture after the face-paint, but I got distracted thinking about an earlier idea to make her bloody also. Because thats just how Harrow is. I was trying to think what would go nicely on top of pastel, since by now I had realised that Id maybe fucked up my pen, and also I specifically wanted the paint to be pastel, because its described as chalky, so I didnt want to also do the blood in pastel. What about paint? Thats so messy that requires a palette- wait I only need a tiny bit! Huzzah!

So I just. Found a small paintbrush and dipped it directly into the tube. And it worked wonderfully! Could I have been more subtle with the paint, sure, and I did rein myself in from adding more, but I dont think its too much. I think its exactly the right amount for an artwork by me who leans more maximalist than minimalist when it comes to details. I will probably need to restrain myself from the painting the background yet another shade of black.

Oh and I decided that grey didnt look right, so I went over her irises in brown texta (marker) which now look totally black which makes her look creepier! Totally as intended!

Here's the final product again to complete the sequence:

Aand I can't copy paste the image description back down on mobile. Its the same picture though. Im sorry about that.

Have a Harrow!

Im gonna talk about the process under because Im really proud of it. But firstly heres the final version (for now? A background is itching at me but also blank space is allowed and in fact important):

[Image description: A photo of a mixed media artwork of Harrowhark Nonagesimus of The Locked Tomb, just her neck and head. She is pulling an angry face with big diagonal eyebrows, a scrunchy nose and a snarly mouth with teeth. She is wearing face paint to look like a skull, rendered in oil pastel so that it looks chalky. The paint covers her entire face, ears, and top of her neck. The paint is primarily white, with big black shapes around the eyes, most of the nose, and the upper lip. There is also some other black decorative paint in lines and circles. Harrow has short very curly black hair and sideburns, which are drawn in pen. Everything is outlined in black pen. The background is brown paper. Her ears are littered with bone earrings, mostly studs. From her orifices, including sweat glands on her forehead, she is exuding bright red painted blood, which also drips down her face. ]

[phoenixyfriend]

The Family Tree is... a Disaster

Takes place in the TCW Leverage AU. It does contain a few deviations, namely that the narrative ended up shifting Plo's role in Ahsoka's life, and Ventress's role overall.

This is mostly just dialogue where I outline the fuckery that is the disaster lineage family tree, not actual fic. It stemmed from my incessant need to justify "25yo Obi-Wan somehow got custody of 9yo Anakin without Shmi dying."

Warnings for: canon character death (modernized), canon violence (modernized), and references to Nazis and white supremacists (Palpatine collects WWII weaponry as a parallel to his canon display of Sith artifacts in his office as chancellor, and Ahsoka thinks it's sketchy)

----

"Okay," Cody says, setting down a glass of whiskey as he drops into the seat across the table. "What the hell is your family tree like?"

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow, and continues cleaning off the definitely-not-stolen crystal komodo dragon he'd won in today's job. "I beg your pardon?"

"You and Skywalker," Cody says, gesturing between Obi-Wan, who is just sitting there minding his own business, and Anakin, who is across the closed-for-tonight bar and doing something inadvisable on the pool table. "You've said he was your brother, and mentioned raising him, which, sure, I'm over twenty years older than my youngest brother, people take over parenting roles all the time. But you have different last names, have mentioned stepfamilies that the other doesn't have, reference things as 'your aunt, not mine,' and I am just getting... very confused. I figured it was personal and I could leave well enough alone, but considering your older brother almost shot us today--"

"Okay, Xanatos is not my brother," Obi-Wan immediately says. "Just. I just have to stop you right there. Xanatos was a student of my father's for a time, but I promise he's not family. Nobody except maybe Komari would consider him even close, and she doesn't count since she's in prison for life and the farthest thing from stable."

Cody gestures. "That, Obi-Wan. That's what I'm talking about. I don't even know who Komari is."

Obi-Wan purses his lips in a failed attempt to not smile. "Do you actually want the explanation? It's long and unnecessarily complicated."

"So's mine," Cody snorts. Obi-Wan waits, patient and pleasant, and is rewarded when Cody sighs. "Please."

"Of course, my dear. To answer your first question, though, Anakin is my half-brother." With a smile, Obi-Wan digs a piece of paper and a pen from his briefcase. "So, center of the chain: me, my father Qui-Gon, my grandfather Yan, and my great-grandfather Yoda. With me so far?"

"Easy enough. Do you have to go back that far?"

"Great-grandfather Yoda is still alive and regularly escaping the old folks' home to terrorize younger relatives, so yes," Obi-Wan says. "Given that you may just meet a tiny, meddling relative of mine when he's bored, we do in fact have to go back that far."

"...how old is he?"

"We don't know for sure. A hundred and eight-ish is the best guess." Obi-Wan shrugs. "It's not a huge deal, mostly he likes bothering Anakin these days. Anyway, grandfather. Yan Dooku. Inherited a minory duchy from his maternal grandfather decades back. Mostly hangs around there because he's on terrorist watchlists in the States."

"Oh, lovely."

Obi-Wan grins. "Trust me, it gets worse. Anyway, grandfather never actually married, but spent most of his time with his 'best friend' Sifo Dyas, who died about a decade back."

"Gay?"

"Well, we know that now, but they got together in the seventies, and this was back when they were both working government jobs, so, you know. It happens."

"Good to know," Cody says. "So, Yoda's kid is Yan, who inherited a title and land from a maternal relative, and had a life partner but never married. With you so far."

"All of Yan's kids were adopted," Obi-Wan continues, sketching out the first branch away from the Yan/Sifo partnership. "Rael was actually grandfather's cousin, maternally, and ended up in his custody after getting orphaned at five. These days, he does most of the stewardship duties at the Serenno Duchy. His daughter Nim is teaching military history at a university in Germany."

Cody nods. "Uncle number one is named Rael, technically your dad's cousin, has a daughter. Got it."

"About a decade after Rael, they adopted my father, Qui-Gon. He and grandfather fought, frequently, but they did care for each other. My father was a botanist, did bio-engineering. We'll get back to him later, because he's where things get complicated." Obi-Wan made sure to leave room around the name. "Just a few years older than me was--is--Komari Vosa. She is... serving a life sentence. I think she fought Jango once."

"She fought my father?"

"To the best of my knowledge, they both almost died, yes," Obi-Wan says. "She's in maximum security these days. She was an assassin. I'll get a call if she breaks out, and I'll let you know along with everyone else."

"Bad news auntie, got it."

"Last adoption, sort of, is Ventress," Obi-Wan finishes off. "A few years younger than me, is technically grandfather's personal assistant and does secretarial work and the like, but we all know he's planning to leave as much of the inheritance to her as he is to the rest of us. She's aggressive and unpleasant, but she takes care of him and hasn't actually threatened to kill any of us yet, so that's fine."

"How'd she join?" Cody asks.

"Ky Narec was a friend of Qui-Gon's; Ventress was his daughter. Ky died a few years after Qui-Gon did, and Ventress was a mess, after." Obi-Wan shrugs and scratches that connection into the little sketch of a family tree as well. "Grandfather offered her a job until she got herself back together, and then she just kind of... stuck around."

"Youngest aunt, more of a cousin." Cody summarizes. "Now we go back to your father?"

"Qui-Gon Jinn was a man of many skills," Obi-Wan says drily. "Adequate birth control was not one of them."

It's almost a pity that Cody wasn't drinking anything, because going by the way he chokes, Obi-Wan's pretty sure the spit take would have been spectacular.

"I'm sorry," Cody says. "Can you repeat that?"

"I was an accident," Obi-Wan says, not even bothering to hide his smile. "So was Anakin."

"So that sounds like... a story."

"It is," Obi-Wan confirms. "My biological mother has never been in the picture. They had a fling, she wasn't sure if she'd want to abort or give me up, just that she wasn't ready to be a parent, and Qui-Gon volunteered to take full custody so she could go back to her life after the birth. I've never met her, but I kept her family name. You can consider her irrelevant beyond that."

Cody nods.

"So, when I was about a year old, Qui-Gon reconnects with an old flame, they get married two years later. Step-mother number one is Tahl. Lovely woman, I absolutely adored her, and she had a daughter, my stepsister, Bant Eerin."

"I met her, right?" Cody asks.

"Yes, she was the doctor who patched up my bullet wound a few months ago," Obi-Wan says. "With the giant glasses that make her look a little fish-eyed."

"She was nice."

"She is," Obi-Wan agrees. "At any rate, that was our family for a while, and then Tahl died when I was fourteen. Bant wanted to go to a magnet school for medical studies, and Qui-Gon's grief was... not optimal for taking care of multiple teenagers, shall we say, so Bant moved in with her paternal uncle, Kit Fisto, and Kit's son Nahdar. He's a marine biologist, incredibly friendly, and has no idea of any of the rest of my side of the family's questionable activities. If you ever meet him, you will pretend that we are a legal firm with a team of security consultants."

Cody raises a brow. Obi-Wan despairs. "Best you could do?"

"We're not that likely to run into him." Obi-Wan draws out a new line. "So, Qui-Gon deals poorly with grief. This is also around the time that Xanatos came around to ruin our lives a little. He was a very rich and unpleasant man, but he's dead as of four hours ago, so you don't have to worry about him. Or his son."

"His son?"

"Anakin handled that," Obi-Wan says. "Thoroughly. Granta Omega is no longer an issue. He's not dead, but... well. Anakin has his ways. Er--I should probably mention Feemor; he was my father's assistant at the university for a long time. Anakin and I still call him our uncle."

"Also a person to avoid mentioning criminal activity to?" Cody prompts.

"Well... no, but only because I don't think he'd care. The man is, forgive me, more of a 'walking sweatervest' than I am. He's a very bland and unassuming man. He once described himself as the background character of the soap opera that is my family's existence."

"Sounds like a charmer."

"Oh, he's very kind and clever, and witty as well. I adore him, and he really is family. He's just also very, very normal. Not boring, but..." Obi-Wan trails off and shrugs helplessly. "He's an editor for an agricultural research journal. Also not someone I anticipate us running into."

"Noted."

"Right, so, Qui-Gon dealing poorly with his grief didn't involve much drinking, but there were a few months of him trying to... lose himself in the pleasures of the flesh?" Obi-Wan tries, and then deflates at the look on Cody's face. "He was slagging around. Shmi got pregnant with Anakin, who was born when I was sixteen. Shared custody at first, Qui-Gon got him weekends and every other holiday, that sort of thing, and then they got married because they actually did like each other well enough, and it was easier on the taxes."

"So Shmi is stepmother number two."

"Shmi is stepmother number two, yes." Obi-Wan sketches in Anakin and Shmi. "About nine and a half years after Anakin was born, Shmi and Qui-Gon were in a car accident with... well, it later turned out it wasn't an accident, there was a hitman called Maul involved, he's actually Ventress's second cousin or something, I don't know. Grandfather handled most of that problem. Qui-Gon died, Shmi was in intensive care, and I got custody of Anakin as his nearest adult relative. We weren't very close before that, because I was off at university by the time he was old enough to form memories, but that changed once he started living with me. I more or less raised him as a single parent from that point."

"This is why he jokes that you're like a father to him."

"Precisely," Obi-Wan says. "Shmi took about a year to recover enough to move again, and grandfather covered the costs. She still had to live with a dedicated carer and attend daily physical therapy. At that physical therapy, she met Cliegg Lars, whose son Owen was also a patient there. They hit it off, and three years later, they married. When Anakin refers to his stepfamily he's talking about the Lars out in Nevada."

"Nevada?"

"They have a farm. A very, very normal one. We don't drag them into our activities, unless we have an at-risk person who needs a safe house." Obi-Wan pauses, and then decides this really needs to be stressed. "This is important to me and Anakin, that we don't get them involved unless there's absolutely no other choice. Shmi's been through a lot, and the Lars are busy enough running the farm."

"Works for me," Cody says. "We've got enough safe houses that it shouldn't be an issue. I'm guessing this story doesn't end there, though."

Obi-Wan grimaces. "My own love life has been... a bit of a mess."

"I already know about Kryze, at least."

There's that. "I was temporarily engaged to a friend, Siri Tachi, shortly after high school. We were in a relationship, but this was mostly something done to appease a relative of hers that was getting overbearing to the point of absurdity, and she couldn't just cut them off. We broke off the engagement after the relative passed, and we're still friends."

He notes that down, then adds the other embarrassment of his early years. "First marriage was actually a drunken joke between myself and my best friend when we were in college. We got it annulled a few months later because we just didn't have time to drop by the courthouse before then, and he's actually engaged to Asajj now."

"Asajj?" Cody asks, watching in fascination as Obi-Wan tries to mark in both his own short marriage and the newer, long-term engagement without crossing any lines. He settles for just writing the name twice and including an asterisk with 'this is the same person.'

"Ventress," Obi-Wan clarifies. "Yeah, Quinlan's a fun guy. His little sister, Aayla, treats Anakin like a beloved younger cousin."

"Are they also off-limits for criminal activity?"

"No, Aayla's the one that taught Ahsoka how to vent-crawl," Obi-Wan says. "And I'm pretty sure Quinlan has contacts in every major government branch, criminal organization, and Fortune 500 company on the planet. I reach out to them regularly."

"Resources, then."

Obi-Wan nods. "Some time later, I married Satine. We had a son; you've met Korkie. We split due to incompatibility a year and change before Qui-Gon's death. Satine doesn't engage in criminal activity, but Bo-Katan is..."

"I've met Bo-Katan. I know what she's like, Obi. You don't have to explain."

"She works with Maul sometimes."

"...the man who killed your father?"

"Yes. It's all very stupid and convoluted." Obi-Wan still writes her in. "So, that's them. Korkie goes to boarding school, and I try not to involve him in anything. Anakin and Ahsoka like to teach him self-defense and the like, but Satine is adamant that he stay unaware of my less legal dealings until he's an adult."

Cody shrugs. "Makes sense. Is that every--wait, no, Skywalker's married."

Obi-Wan grins. "Yes, and Padme's got twins on the way."

"I was there when he told us," Cody says drily. "He was very loud about it. Okay, how does Ahsoka fit in?"

"Hold on, I forgot Beru," Obi-Wan mutters. "Owen's fiancee. Same rules as the Lars. Okay, you asked about Ahsoka. Right. So. Um."

He dithers. Cody waits for him, and then Obi-Wan just gives up. "Ahsoka, dear, would you like to explain how you joined the family, so to speak?"

Ahsoka looks up from whatever she and the boys are doing--there are multiple beer glasses and straws and duct tape involved, and Obi-Wan doesn't really want to know--and then flips off the table and over to Obi-Wan and Cody. She looks over the family tree chart, and then says, "Oooh, did you tell him about the cult?"

"You were in a cult?" Cody demands.

"No, Komari was. She was head priestess or something. I dunno, it's why she's in prison and stuff."

"I did not tell him about the cult," Obi-Wan mutters, already regretting this. "The Bando Gora aren't a problem anymore. I've already gotten to explaining how you and Anakin know each other."

Ahsoka rolls her eyes, steals his pen, and starts sketching in around Quinlan's name, over by Asajj since Obi-Wan's section is too crowded. "Okay, so, Quinlan's adopted. His dad is Tholme, and Tholme's dad is Plo Koon. Plo Koon is good friends with my Auntie, Shaak Ti, who raised me. They live next door to each other, out in the country, and I'd play in his yard a lot, because he had puppies, and he took me to visit his bees. Whenever Auntie needed a babysitter, she asked Quinlan or Aayla to do it since she knew and trusted them, and Aayla needed pocket money."

"This is so unnecessarily complicated," Cody mutters.

"It is!" Ahsoka chirps. Her grin is far too sharp. "So, this one time, Aayla was watching me when I was fourteen, and she was just helping me with my physics homework. BAM, the door slams open, and in stumbled Skyguy with his arm missing. I've never met him before, and my first introduction is him shortly after he's gotten an unplanned amputation."

Anakin, on the other side of the room, giggles. Obi-Wan just sighs. The Fett brothers appear to be in the land of 'horrified fascination.'

Ahsoka revels in it. "There's blood everywhere, I'm screaming, Aayla's panicking, Anakin's halfway to unconscious and insisting we can't call the hospital, and nobody can get Obi-Wan on the phone. Quinlan's in another country, and Auntie Shaak and Uncle Plo are at a movie, so they've both got their cellphones off. Tholme was faking his death at that point to get away from an incident with the Irish Mob, so we didn't even try him."

"What the actual fuck," Rex breathes.

Ahsoka continues with relish. "We get Bant to pick up, and she's there an hour later with Padme, because Padme knows how to drive the way Skyguy does, and the entire drive there is just Auntie Bant on speakerphone telling Aayla how to stop the bleeding and get him stabilized while Padme's screaming at traffic at the top of her lungs."

"I owe Aayla a fruit basket," Anakin muses aloud. "The anniversary of her saving my life is coming up, it's warranted."

"Five years, baby!" Ahsoka crows. She fist-pumps.

Obi-Wan just drops his head into his hands. "You're killing me, children."

Anakin shrugs, grinning. "You know, I think Fett Senior might have been involved in that fight."

"My shitty dad cut off your arm?" Rex demands.

"No, I think he was busy fighting the Interpol guy," Anakin says. "But he was definitely there. I think. Blood loss kinda got to me after a bit, but I'm pretty sure Jango Fett was there, and also Boba might've been hiding in the getaway car?"

"I need another glass," Cody mutters. He doesn't stand up, though.

"Wait," Rex says. "So who cut off your arm?"

Anakin shrugs with an unsure noise. "Someone tried to convince me it was Grandpa Yan, but he was in the middle of a court case in Italy for some kind of parole violation when it happened, so he had an alibi."

"...did he actually violate parole?" Cody asks, and Obi-Wan thinks he looks like he doesn't know if he actually wants an answer.

Ahsoka shrugs. So does Anakin. Obi-Wan carefully looks at a spot behind Cody, and doesn't explain anything about wine tastings used as covers for illicit arms deals.

"The arm?" Rex prompts, sounding a little desperate to get back to the question he likely thinks is the most important.

"I still say it was Skeevy Sheev," Ahsoka chimes in.

"It wasn't Palpatine," Anakin snaps.

"Your creepy older friend who took you to operas and gives you fancy gifts and knows way too much about swords who was conveniently there to talk to the police and cover for you so you didn't get arrested for getting in the middle of a gang war in the first place, yes," Ahsoka says, dropping into a chair and sighing dramatically. "The guy who definitely hasn't been trying to convince you for a year and change that your wife is cheating on you with your older brother."

"Ahsoka!"

"What? He is."

"Anakin," Rex says, "your life sounds like a trainwreck."

"I'm not going to assume a frail, elderly man cut my arm off!" Anakin protests. "Even if he wanted to, he doesn't exactly have the muscle for it!"

"Grandfather's older," Obi-Wan points out, even though he knows it won't help. "And he definitely still could."

"Ha!" Ahsoka shouts.

"He could have hired someone?" Cody suggests. "Doesn't need to do it himself, if he has enough money."

Obi-Wan has a sneaking suspicion that Cody is deliberately stirring the pot as revenge for Anakin sending him eighty-seven cat memes inside an hour during last night's dinner.

"You all suck," Anakin declares. "Also, what the hell do you mean 'knows way too much about swords,' Ahsoka? You know way too much about swords!"

"Yeah, but I'm like ninety-percent sure that his antiques are Prussian and mid-century German military officer dress uniform relics, and pairing that with the Nazi pistols he's got on display--"

"He's just a history buff! And his family's German, of course he prioritizes that region, it's not like he doesn't have Russian or French or English antiques in there too, it's all sides of the war and--"

"I'm just saying he's almost definitely sending me sketchy glances like he thinks I'm planning to steal the silver on the three occasions you've had me with you when you stop by, and I'm pretty sure it's got less to do with my criminal record and more to do with me being, you know, not white."

Anakin looks ready to blow, so Obi-Wan interrupts. "Ahsoka, you were explaining how Anakin passing out on Aayla and scaring us all half to death led to your friendship?"

Ahsoka blinks at him, and then sticks her tongue out at Anakin and turns back to the chart. "So basically, Skyguy had to recuperate in Uncle Plo's living room for a week or two, and I kept showing up to bother him because he was bored and nobody would give him a laptop for 'security reasons,' because he had to lay low and stuff. He made me help him sketch out designs for a prosthesis and do all the writing for the math he had to do for the 3D printer, and we got to chatting."

Ahsoka hops up and back onto a table, legs swinging below her. "I decided he was cool and started following him around while he was getting used to only having one hand, mostly because I was bored. He showed me how to hotwire a car, and explained the best places to put a bug if you were looking to make it sneaky, and he picked my pocket to show off so many times when he was walking around Uncle Plo's house that I made him teach me that, too. And, uh, then Aayla found out and they got into a shouting match about it and decided they both needed to teach me parkour so I could get out of any mess I got myself into, since I was obviously going to follow them into a life of crime."

"And you did," Anakin says, far too proudly. "You're the best thief in this half of the country."

"Only because Aayla moved out east."

Anakin rolls his eyes and pulls Ahsoka into his side, digging his knuckles into her skull. "Best thief! You are the best thief! Be proud of yourself!"

"Let go!"

"Never!"

Obi-Wan sighed heavily and rubbed at his forehead. "Children, please."

"You're not my dad," Ahsoka growls out at him. "Skyguy, I'm going to bite you!"

"Good luck, the only arm you can access is the one that's going to break your teeth."

Ahsoka shrieks in outrage and stomps on Anakin's instep.

It's almost funny, for all that Obi-Wan's seen it play out a million times before, but the really interesting part is seeing Rex's look of fond dismay.

Obi-Wan thinks he might be adding a branch out to the Fetts soon. He's not actually sure if Rex is interested in Anakin or Ahsoka, and he's smack dab between them in age, so that's not a help either, but... well. The expression is familiar enough.

"Please tell me you don't match-make," Cody mutters to him.

"No, I plan to let the pieces fall where they will," Obi-Wan responds, just as low, and far more amused. "I'm simply trying to predict where those landings are to be."

Cody looks at him, and then back at the roughhousing trio, and sighs heavily. "You know, I really didn't think that you technically being minor royalty was going to be the least convoluted thing in your story, Obi-Wan."

He laughs, because it's true. "I'm first in line to inherit the title, since Rael denounced his claim. Nim isn't interested, and Qui-Gon's dead, so... I'm next."

Cody makes a face. "Delightful. I'm guessing that's not a connection we can safely make use of."

"No more than the Kryze or Naberries, I'm afraid." Obi-Wan claps him on the shoulder. "Chin up, I've plenty others in the metaphorical rolodex, all far less legitimate and far more amenable to work with our little outfit."

"Rolodex, really?" Cody snorts. "You're not that old."

Obi-Wan smiles winningly. "You don't know how old I am, Cody. All my IDs are fake."

"Anakin's twenty-four, and you're sixteen years older than him, going by the story you just told me," Cody points out. "I do know how to do basic math, Obi-Wan."

"I had to try," Obi-Wan admits. "I threw a lot of information at you all at once; I'd hoped you missed some of the ages in there."

"I have eight brothers," Cody scoffs. "And literally dozens of cousins, plus niblings, uncles, aunts, and so on. I have experience on this."

"If I asked you to list of the age of every single relative you have, you'd be able to do it?"

"Do you want me to draw a chart? I can draw a chart."

Obi-Wan can't help but laugh. "I'd be delighted, my dear."

Cody rolls his eyes, but Obi-Wan thinks--it's hard to tell in the dimmed lights of the closed bar--that there's a hint of a blush on the man's face. Obi-Wan lets himself slouch to the side, drops his head to rest on one fist, indolent debauchery in every line of his body. Cody does his best to ignore him, but Obi-Wan knows how to smile lazily and blink slowly and draw a man in.

(The whole 'indolent debauchery in every line of his body' phrasing is Anakin's, from back when he was a teenager trying to read highbrow literature to impress a cute girl... and to come up with new insults for his older brother.)

"So," Cody says, with a cough meant to somehow distract Obi-Wan from whatever's showing on the man's face. "Why, uh, why is your grandfather on terrorist watchlists?"

"Well, he didn't initially do anything," Obi-Wan says. "He was just a gay man who didn't hide it quite well enough, and had too much money and too white a face for someone to just call the cops on a faulty report. The Red Scare was technically over by that point, I think, but if a few people made suggestions that he was more loyal to the country that gave him a noble title than to the United States... he received a few warnings, of course, and it could have all blown over..."

"But?"

"But my grandfather is not a man to do things by halves, and instead decided that if the government was to list him as a threat, then he would oblige and make himself a threat," Obi-Wan finishes. "Living up to their labels, rolling with the assumptions, whatever you'd like to call it. It all irked him, and so he made some incredibly questionable decisions to make the government's lives harder. Some weren't bad, like donating to anti-war foundations that were protesting the Gulf War and the interventions in Yugoslavia, that sort of thing, and some were... nobody really looks well on gunrunning, you know."

"For fuck's sake..."

"Indeed," Obi-Wan chuckles. "Ironically, he has minimal opinion on the optimal form of economics, for all that virulent xenophobia and the remnants of anti-communism were involved in the whole mess. He just wanted to create problems for the people that were causing him problems."

Cody shakes his head. "I want to judge that, but you've met my father."

"Jango Fett is, indeed, also not a man to do things by halves," Obi-Wan agrees, attempting to nod gravely but breaking into a smile at the end. "That man is absurd."

"At least he's not dragging Boba into it anymore," Cody mutters. He drags over the fresh sheet of paper and pen that Obi-Wan offers him. "Okay, right, let's start with Jaster..."

[momiji-bookhouse]

You’re prolly busy w/ all the other requests from the event but imagine reader got into a duel before the throne and kazuha gets all anxious, not that he doubts reader but he got scared. Idk if you’ll see this but have a great day anyways

TO BRAVE THE LIGHTNING'S GLOW

pairing: Kaedehara Kazuha x gn!reader

genre: angst, hurt/some comfort, canonical character death

When Kazuha began traveling with Tomo, he always felt like you're more Tomo's friend than his. Tomo has known you longer, traveled with you longer, and you guys even have jokes that often left him confused.

But that doesn't mean you don't include him or don't try to be his friend. As a matter of fact, upon first meeting the young noble turned wanderer, you immediately notice the intriguing air of lightness he has around him. A sort of feet on the ground, head in the clouds kind of aura.

That and his insanely flowery language, of course.

It takes some time to get used to, but once you do you find yourself liking the soothing tone of his dulcet voice.

You teach him how to identify which mushrooms and berries are safe to eat, how to press flowers and leaves to preserve them, and how to gut a fish in just a few minutes.

In turn, he teaches you how to look for the signs of a storm approaching, how to discern between the footsteps of a prancing fox and an approaching enemy, and how to play a leaf flute (which to be honest you still haven't mastered yet).

The three of you make an efficient trio: Tomo with his charming personality that can help get a free meal or a room at a discounted price, you with your foraging and hunting skills, and Kazuha with his ability to feel the slightest change in the weather.

You find yourself bonding with him, especially in the nights when Tomo is sound asleep and snoring up a storm.

The night is so cloudless that there's no obstruction for the moon to shine on you, lending you silvered light so you can write your letters to the people you keep contact with. Some of them will be sent with pressed flowers or leaves, while some will have doodles of places or random things.

While sketching the outline of Ritou harbor with spontaneous strokes, you try to hum along with the unpredictable symphony currently being played by the platinum blonde wanderer, who is situated comfortably on a tree branch.

Letting the leaf fly with the wind, Kazuha lands without even a sound and sits down beside you. "That's a nice drawing."

"Really? You can make out the harbor from this?"

He tilts his head this way and that as he looks at your doodle. "Now that you say that..."

You playfully punch his shoulder, who laughs in response.

It's one of those nights when you two tend to stay more silent rather than talk, but on this particular night you're unsure if it's because the presence of the other is enough, or if both of you are trying to not bring up what is one both of your minds.

"You're leaving early tomorrow morning, right?" Perhaps against your better judgment, you breach the topic first.

Kazuha nods, his palms placed flat on the grass. "It's going to take a while for me to go from here to Watatsumi, so I figured I go as early as I can."

Meeting new people and parting from them is what to expected in a life of a wanderer. As people who hop from place to place, it is bound to happen. Even when two wanderers meet, it's never certain that they will travel together for too long, especially when the destinations they have in mind differ.

You and Tomo plan to go back to Narukami to meet some old friends before going to Yashiori, while Kazuha has his sights on Watatsumi Island. As such, what is expected to come has come, and it's time for you to part ways.

You're no stranger to the goodbyes and promises of meeting each other once more in the future, but you can't fathom why this particular farewell leaves such a bitter taste in your mouth. Is it because you know that you'll miss him and his light as air presence? Miss his poetic musings that you can't deny has made you see the world a little more brightly and romantically? Miss the stutter of his laughter and the banter between him and Tomo?

Will you stay?

Stay. Stay. Stay.

The word claw at your throat, but your bite down on your lower lip and force it down. Alas, you will not let yourself indulge in such hypocrisy when you too have freedom for a heart.

"I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too."

A teasing smile pull at the corners of your mouth. "You just say that because you'll miss my cooking."

Kazuha chuckles, but the emotion that then passes through his sunset eyes is one of sincerity. "I'll miss everything about you."

You think you felt your heart skip a beat, and maybe even flip upside-down and do cartwheels in your chest. But you control the warmth to not let it spread to the tips of your fingers and instead only to linger in the pits of your stomach. There is no need for such feelings to take root.

"Me too, Kazuha. Me too."

As you expected, you said goodbye to Kazuha the next morning and go your separate ways.

And as you expected, your trip went smoothly and you had a lot of fun catching up with old friends.

What you didn't expect is for everything to change so quickly.

The news come as the first of the pale sun rays touch the horizon. Everyone scatters around, muttering with each other about whether it's true or not. And then the first Vision holder near the village had their Vision taken away.

The Sakoku and Vision Decree are now officially in effect.

As Vision bearers yourself, you and Tomo quickly go into hiding, learning to hear for the rumors of people from the Tenryou Commission passing through to avoid them. Your mind inevitably goes back to Kazuha, and every night you pray for his safety.

Inazuma seems to change right before your eyes, ironic for the supposed pursuit of eternity decreed by the Raiden Shogun. Some people try to convince themselves that everything is fine, but you see the listlessness in some of their eyes, the frustration and weary state of those in Ritou. Some has even been driven to madness.

You try your best to help, but in the end it's Tomo who decided to take the plunge and do something unfathomable.

"Do you really think I'm going to let you do this alone?" "(Y/N)-" "You're insane, Tomo, absolutely insane!" "But maybe it's only such insanity that can open the eyes of the Raiden Shogun."

"Do you really believe that one person can change her mind?" "No, but perhaps this could make her understand that her will is not ultimate, and that there will always be those who dare to face the lightning."

So against your better reasoning, you go with him.

When Kazuha heard of the duel before the throne, he couldn't believe his ears. Why would you and Tomo throw yourself in such danger? Sure, he has heard his dear friend said that he believed someone could withstand the Musou no Hitachi, but he never thought he would actually go through with it.

And you. You and your smile that's larger than life. You and your hands that can chop a vegetable in seconds and grace him with the gentlest of touch while bandaging his wounds. You and your doodles and pressed flowers and an essence that seems to contain the best parts of the world.

He feels his Vision coming to life, pumping the wind into his every step as he races towards Tenshukaku. The adrenaline that should be warming his body only serve to chill him to the bones. He knows of both your and Tomo's capabilities, having sparred (and defeated) with you one too many times, admiring the training honed into you throughout the years.

But it doesn't quiet the voices in his head, doesn't make the ringing in his ears stop, or make his heart return to its usual beating. The people walking around the city must have been caught off-guard by a sudden whirlwind that stirs up the breeze before quickly dissipating, but Kazuha doesn't have the mind to care about what others think.

He has to make it in time. He has to.

The duel is set in a courtyard in Tenshukaku, a spectacle for all to see. Kazuha notices the outline of your body as you stand over someone from the Tenryou Commission, possibly some high-ranking officer, in a victorious stance. His heart lifts for a moment, before the scariest sound enter his ears.

Your eyes glance over the same time as his does, only able to catch a glimpse of Tomo's sword flying from his hand, the blade severed as it clatters helplessly to the ground.

You open your mouth, your eyes wide with fear as you try to command your legs to move toward him. You reach your arm out, but already out of the corner of your eyes you can see a flash of deadly purple as it crackles with energy.

"TOMO!!!"

It all happened so fast. A second passes, and for a moment the glow that surrounds your friend is ethereal, beautiful, and transient. But the destruction left in its wake is everlasting.

There isn't even a body left behind for you to mourn. Only ashes and fragments of what was once whole and human.

You feel your heart shattering along with him, an abyss forming in the pits of your stomach as it sucks away everything, leaving only behind a pain so raw that it grabs you by the throat and wrap you in its suffocating embrace.

You want to scream, but how does one scream when no mouth or sound can do justice to your agony?

Meanwhile, Kazuha is shell-shocked, tears rimming his eyes and his ears bursting with sounds that he has long been unable to decipher which one comes from him and the outside. But even with this cacophony he sees the soldiers moving towards you, no doubt to seize the Vision hanging from your belt.

Kazuha runs.

He picks you up and into his arms before grasping his friend's Vision as it sails through the air. The remnants of what was once a man's ambitions dies out as it burns in his hand, but Kazuha doesn't let out a sound.

"Kazuha! Stop!! Put me down! I have to go back–I have to–Tomo–!!" You're unsure of what you want either, babbling in his arms as he leads you away, aware of the soldiers hot on his tail and shouting for him to stop.

But he doesn't look back. Doesn't allow himself to look back.

He runs and runs until at some point you finally let yourself crumble into his chest and cry. Cry until there's nothing left and you're numb, but the hole in your stomach still doesn't close itself. Kazuha aches with every tear and sob, but he can't stop, not until both of you are safe and far away from the smell of smoky ash and death.

When the two of you are finally miles away from Narukami Island and under the protection of the rebellion, you and Kazuha would look at each other and see the whisper of a dear friend hanging in between. You two would hold each other in a tight embrace, letting all the grief and agony break free as the old world that you once knew crumbles all around you.

You two would hold each other until sunrise, perhaps believing that only this will prevent you from breaking apart completely.

[airborneice]

I'm very new to digital art and was wondering what sort of process/brushes you use for your Hilda art? I absolutely love your trolls and centaur designs ❤️

aw that’s very kind, thank you!! tbh my art approach is kind of all over the place but I’ll do my best to answer!

first off, I draw in photoshop and use mainly these two brushes -

the 1st is pretty much the standard PS brush and the HB one is what I used for most of the trolls/centaur stuff! generally I pick one of these brushes and use it for both lineart and putting in colour/shadows. (to be honest photoshop somehow got the settings on the HB brush messed up a lil while ago which is why I use it for lineart less now, but it’s still nice for doing shadows bc it has a really pretty soft edge :) )

as for art process, I’ll try to explain with the hilda little mermaid drawing I did recently - explanation thingy under the cut!

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so with most of my art I usually start out sketching it on paper first and then move the sketch to my computer - since you’re new to digital you might find it easier to start that way, it helps make things less complicated bc you already have something to start from

so for the drawing in question I started with this which is. A Mess

everything is all over the place and yasha from crit role is hanging out in the middle of it but this is the type of thing I start with! first with the lil thumbnail sketch up in the corner, and then doing the characters in more detail separately (if I know I’m gonna end up moving something to digital I’ll just draw the characters anywhere I can fit them on the page, bc I can worry about fitting them together properly later)

u can honestly skip the thumbnail sketch if u want, but for bigger drawings I find it useful to have something rough to refer back to, so I don’t forget what I’m aiming for overall when I start getting into the details

anyway then I move the paper sketch to digital and arrange things properly and add anything I’ve missed, and depending on how messy it is I do another slightly cleaner sketch overtop -

I’ve learned the hard way that fixing things at the lineart stage is a lot more hassle so I try to make sure everything’s looking as it should in the cleaner sketch - david’s initial sketch looked mostly fine to me so I only redid a couple things and added some details, while I changed a lot of kaisa til I was happier with the pose. I knew the salt lion was gonna end up being mostly hidden so I didn’t worry about refining it

SO next I make a new layer and start drawing the clean lineart over the sketch. I like using coloured lineart these days, so I pick a colour to sketch and do lineart in - literally any colour except black, since photoshop lets you change the hue later (you can go to Image -> Adjustments -> Hue/Saturation and change things as much as you like). I did all the lineart for the characters here in purple, like the sketch, and I made sure to keep all the lineart for different characters separate so I could mess with it individually later. I’ve got a bit of what kaisa’s lineart folder looks like below, and you definitely don’t have to put Everything on a new layer like I did, but I usually keep the eyes, brows and little details like the fin lines and scales separate bc they’re the things I’ll most likely want to adjust later

once I’ve got the lineart done in that one colour, I’ll use the Adjustments-> Hue/Saturation slider to change some parts of it (this is where having things on different layers comes in) to blend in or stand out more, so by the end it looks like it does below. I made some swatches so you can see which parts I changed from the main outline colour:

so I kept the original purple for most of it, but I changed the salt lion’s lines to blue, and kaisa’s scales to a light grey so they’d blend in more, and made her eyebrows much darker so they’d stand out from her hair. (I usually do this step after I’ve started colouring them in, bc it’s easier to see what’s working then and what isn’t, I’m just showing it here so you can see it in isolation). also, I’ll usually set the whole lineart folder to ‘multiply’ so it blends in with the colour layer even more

(tbh you don’t have to do it as complicated as this, everyone has their own approach depending on what they’re going for and it might take some trial/error before you find what works best for you. I just do this bc I’m used to it and don’t mind the extra hassle. pretty colours go brrr :) )

for colouring in, I use the lasso tool to trace over areas of the drawing and the paint bucket to fill them in. I usually put every different coloured area on a new layer so it’s easier to go back and change something if I decide I don’t like the colour. so everything is built up over a number of layers, and I can use the airbrush tool to soften the edges of some areas (like david’s arm fins). for the parts with gradients like their tails, I put down a flat colour layer (like the orange for david), select that area and then make a new layer and put the gradient on with a big airbrush tool. also for stuff from hilda I usually colour-pick straight from a screenshot of the show with the eye-dropper tool, it’s much faster than guessing them

so then we have the flat colours done, and I can show you why I like doing coloured lineart even though it takes longer bc

here’s the lineart all in black vs the final result with the colours. like…it’s fine, there’s nothing wrong with the all black one, but having the colours really helps soften things imo!

I didn’t really do much by shading for this one but to go over it real quick -

if I was just drawing a character on a white background I wouldn’t bother with this step, but here I know this scene is taking place in the dark & underwater, so I selected the characters, made a new layer and filled in a dark green colour overtop on a low opacity & set to Multiply, so the characters get this slight green tinge and look more like they’re in the setting (I did the same with the salt lion but I’m gonna just focus on these two for now)

for the actual shadows I got the same green colour, and on another multiply layer blocked it in, and just played around with the opacity til it looked about right

honestly not my best job at shading lol but it helps give it some depth and put them in the scene! if I hide the colours and lines for a sec you can see that literally all I’ve added over the original colours is this:

and if I add the basic colours of the background in, you can see how much it helps compared to the flat colours I started with -

they look so much more like they’re in the scene!

anddd after doing the same thing to the salt lion (which is just the same shading process but more layers and darker) and adding the rest of the background that’s it!!

don’t worry they’ll be fine lol

anyway sorry this got so long, I hope it helps!! I’m not the best at explaining myself so if anything I said here doesn’t make sense then feel free to ask :)

[kyberphilosopher]

Dᴏꜱᴄᴇɴᴅᴏ Dɪꜱᴄɪᴍᴜꜱ

The reader tries to paint the Colossal Titan from memory, and Bertholdt seems to know more than most people. 

Requested: no.

Word Count: 2092

Docendo Discimus is a Latin proverb meaning "by teaching, we learn." It is perhaps derived from Seneca the Younger, who says in his Letters to Lucilius: Homines dum docent discunt., meaning "Men learn when they teach”.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

The human body is home to somewhere between six hundred and eight hundred muscles. There are two hundred and six bones, seventy-eight organs, one hundred thousand miles of veins, and roughly ten pints of blood. Every individual cell has a purpose, important and needed for the body to continue to function. 

Assuming the anatomy of a titan was the same to that of the average person’s, the Colossal Titan should be easier to render than this. You’d sketched the face of muscle and teeth over a hundred times by this point, and each one of them seemed to draw further away from realism than you liked. 

Sure, it was arguable that the Colossal just didn’t have the same anatomy in his face as the average human. But then there should’ve been more factors in his face that shouldn’t have worked. 

For example, the monster didn’t possess a muscle called the orbicularis. You could remember that specifically from the time you and your fellow cadets had gotten a bit too close for comfort. But based on the lack of orbicularis, he shouldn’t have been able to blink. And yet, he had. There was also a strange muscle in his temporal region with horizontal fibers, that couldn’t have simply been his temporal. It doesn't seem to have any particular function, either. 

God damn it. It’s appearance should’ve been the one thing about this bastard to make sense, but instead it had confused you just as much as the rest of it. Never mind how smart you were. If you couldn’t solve this simple turned complex mystery, why hold out hope for studying anatomy when the world would return to normalcy?

In your frustration, you slam the paintbrush back into your cup of water. A stain of red clouds erupts in the liquid at once, angry from how direct the solid hits the surface. In front of you, the canvas shines with the new layer of red paint. Beside it is a coat of salmon, also fresh and lined with the titan’s muscles. 

“So stupid,” you hiss, half to yourself. You grab your cadet corps jacket, shrugging it on swiftly before crossing your arms and stepping back. 

It was supposed to be a gift for Eren. He knew you were something of a painter and had once jokingly asked you to make a dart board for him. The moment you conceived this idea, you knew it had to be a stroke of genius. But you wanted to get it right, and for that, the artist and realist inside of you seemed to be punished for it.

Was it something with the eyes? No, it was definitely the anatomy of the titan overall. “For fucks sake,” you wave off finally, turning on your heel to walk away for a while. But when you turn around, you’re face to chest with one so broad you nearly stumble back. 

The figure tenses up immediately. You tilt your head up to see who it is, recognizing the nervous, kaleidoscope eyes of your comrade. Bertholdt, you’re sure his name is. You haven’t talked too many times, but you’ve seen him in your circle of friends. There’s a memory in your brain of asking your bunkmate, Annie, about why Bertholdt would hang around someone so upstanding and obnoxious as Reiner, but you can’t recall her specific answer. 

“O-oh, Y/N!” Bertholdt nearly wheezes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stand so close.”

“It’s fine,” you mutter, rubbing the side of your head as you step away. “What are you doing here?”

Yes, what was he doing here? A little closeted off room by the girl barracks? And aside from that, how does someone as tall as he even sneak his way inside? It’s suspicious, to say the least. 

“I was just-” Bertholdt stares down at you, sweat already beginning to form on his face. Oh, goddess. How is he to get out of this one? If Reiner was with him, he could just lie his way out of it. But now, looking down at your apathetic, borderline tired, frustrated face, he knows he’s never had much luck with girls. Especially not pretty girls like you. 

His gaze shifts to behind you. There, on a perfectly square parchment of thick paper, is a rough sketch of a long face without any skin. It seems to be all muscle, labeled and detailed. Half the sheet is colored in with pinks, browns, and scarlets, with the other half marked with insane little scribbled patterns that remind him of words. 

You’re still waiting for an answer. He sees your steady, patient eyes and your balled fists by your hips, and Bertholdt wonders if you already know. “I saw you bring in those cans of paint, and I guess I got curious.”

“Oh,” you reply flatly. “Yeah. That.”

“It’s um...” Compliment her. Compliment her painting. “It’s a nice painting. What’s it supposed to be of?”

“The Colossal Titan,” you tell him as you rub the back of your neck. Then you turn on your side so you can view your art, immediately narrowing your eyes in disgust at it. “It’s not my best.”

Bertholdt’s words come out a bit louder than he intended. “Actually, I think it’s really, really great, Y/N!”

You turn back to meet Bertholdt’s nervous, almost quivering eyes. You certainly wouldn’t call yourself an expert on the male gender, but this tall bastard was exactly the stereotype of someone who wasn’t an expert on the female gender. It was almost funny. No, it was almost ironic. 

“I just mean that... it’s really good. It’s easy to see that you have heaps of talent,” the brunette reiterates, seemingly calmer this time.

What a nice thing to say to someone. 

“That’s not really my point though,” you borderline sigh. “The point is that no matter what I seem to do to him, it doesn’t seem realistic does it?”

“What do you mean by that?” Bertholdt questions, his eyebrows furrowing. That’s right, he wouldn’t be able to squint without his orbicularis. Something your art model was currently lacking. 

Do you even bother to explain it to him? It’s not like either of you are close, or like he’d exactly understand what you were saying to him anyway. But where was the harm, really?

You walk back towards the parchment, with Bertholdt just a few steps behind. 

“See this area?” you ask, gesturing to the Colossal Titan’s eye area. “There's a muscle here that’s supposed to let people close their eyes. But the colossal titan doesn’t have that.”

“W-why is that?”

You shrug. “Damned if I know. But doesn’t it look wrong on him?”

Bertholdt observes the painting. He sees all the details, all the time you’ve put into it. While you are right about the image and the titan’s strange features, it’s now that Bertholdt realizes just how intelligent you really are. Unlike other people, you actually knew things. If he were an enemy, he might be starting to feel threatened right about now. Ironic indeed. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” the boy says shyly. “Why does it have to be perfect, though?”

Good question. 

“No real reason,” you tell him, trying to hide the hint of smile. “I guess it’s just how it is. Eren is the one who asked for this.”

“O-oh... you mean like a...”

Your eyes flit back to Bertholdt. “Like a what?”

Bertholdt can feel the sullen wave of anxiety wash over him. He hadn’t meant to let the stray thoughts fall from his lips, but now he can’t take it back. Now what does he say? “I just mean, is it a gift or something like that?”

“Sure.”

Were you and Eren...?

“I might be able to help you with it,” Bertholdt stutters, again, louder than he’d intended. He’s lucky at least one of you is level headed during this interaction. 

“How so? Do you paint?” 

“No, but I think I might know some things about the Colossal that you don’t,” Bertholdt offers. His right arm reaches behind to rub at his sweaty neck. In that instant, you can see that the boy has an almost identical structure to that of your subject. You’d have to note that the tall boy would make a brilliant model for something like this.

“Like what?” you question. “Could you give me some feedback on my piece then?”

Shit. Shit. Shit. You were going to find out. 

Bertholdt pretends to be in deep thought for a minute, knitting his dark eyebrows together. His green, blue eyes sweep over the picture, watching the slick settle. “Well, you’re right about the muscle around the eye. I’d take that out, but maybe place the shadow of it?”

“The shadow?”

“The outline. And maybe make his eyes more glossy than this. Titan’s have a second set of eyelids.”

You don’t have time to question him further. Bertholdt continues the onslaught of information. 

“I think you should also make some of these areas here a bit lighter,” he says, pointing to the side of the Colossal’s face. “From the steam and the high body temperature, it would get a bit smoky.”

“Yeah,” you begin slowly, watching the shine in Bertholdt’s previously nervous eyes. “I hadn’t considered that.”

The lanky male in front of you lets his lips curl into a sheepish smile, closing his eyes as his fingers thread themselves between his hair. “I doubt most people do, so you’re not really in the wrong.”

“How do you know so much?” you ask. “You’ve been quiet with everyone up until now. Do the higher ups even know all this?”

“I mean, they’d have to right? I guess I just took a lot of notes in class.”

You hadn’t remembered your professor mentioning most of these things during your Titan Studies period. But maybe it wasn’t really worth questioning him over. Maybe Bertholdt was just more observant than you had ever really considered. It wouldn’t have been the first time. 

Your eyes are fixated on him. Bertholdt was kind of cute, actually. His eyes are both big and slim, with pale green orbs. His skin was always a bit illuminated with a nervous sweat, and he was incredibly mild mannered. But maybe that was actually a good thing compared to all the boys in camp who seemed to lack any conception of manners. Pouty, chapped lips, a gentle smile, messy dark hair. He seems like someone reliable. Kind. Trustworthy.

“Yeah,” you say again, breaking eye contact. “So, are there any other suggestions you have for me?”

Bertholdt is still for a moment, thinking it over. “No, other than don’t think so hard about it, probably.”

“You two sort of have a similar face,” you say, staring at the muscled beast you’d attempted to replicate. “Maybe you should pose for me sometime.”

Bertholdt tenses. 

“I’m only joking,” you assure. Bertholdt’s broad shoulders fall as he relaxes, and a soft exhale leaves from between his lips. “But I would like it if you’d let me model after you.”

“Me?” Bertholdt stutters, shocked. “You mean you’d want to really paint me?”

“‘Course,” you say, nonchalant as always. “You’ve got one of those faces.”

Bertholdt smiles naturally. Soft, but noticeable. You return it after a few seconds, feeling your previous frustration and anger at the piece begin to wander away. 

“I should get back to work,” you say as you turn around. Bertholdt watches you unclip the parchment from your sturdy easel, place it on the stone floor, and grab another paper from a pile. 

“Y-you’re starting again?”

“Of course,” you say. Your dominant hand laces around a piece of charcoal, preparing to drag it across the page. In one swift and scratchy motion, an onyx line appears at the top of the paper. 

Bertholdt’s cheeks dust pink from behind you. He’s about to offer if you want him to pose for you so you can memorize what’s underneath his shy skin, but he stays quiet. Instead, Bertholdt is happy that he even got to speak to you in the first place. He wanders out of the room with butterflies in his stomach, and guilt in his heart. 

And you, with your eyes narrow, basing the monster that ruined your life off the boy who had just helped you. 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

I didn’t proof read this. I feel like I’ve just been cranking stuff out lately. someone remind me to go back and edit thank you