#maia can draw

[ethereal-maia]

I have this very dumb little video I made last year for Dracula but never posted… please take it in its much-too-fast glory…

[ethereal-maia]

um I have visuals from the morning after I woke up and wrote down everything about it

Reblog and put in the tags the weirdest dream you had about one of your interests (a book, a tv show, a movie, etc)

[ricky-mortis]

Some more character drawings- but this time they’re Pulp Musicals!

[dekuscalves]

we stay silly!! @nyancrimew now owns a page of my gay sketchbook (=sketchbook with gay flag on cover)

1 : ok tiny ref ; fluffy ; evil little grin ; two! ; small

2 : in your bloodstream

3 : what is this creature

4 : pose from my friend's cat (toad)

5 : omg i found it the rare creature

6 : at work

7 : would you invite her to ur island

+ here are some of the references I used

(my friends cat is the middle one, she's called toad and I love her)

[bleaksqueak]

hi! i hope you're doing well. is there a ref sheet you have anywhere showing how the rothsraine uniform works? specifically which section of the capelet the jacket sleeves & cloak connect to. it would help with fanart, and no promises but if cosplay is ever on the table it'd be a fun challenge.

Hey! So I don't currently have a finished up-to-date ref sheet/model sheet, the ones I do have don't show what you're wanting to see and are a bit old! So, since I've been meaning to replace them, I decided to let your ask push me to start on that lol.

I can go ahead and give you these sketches for the time being that show the basic outfit component breakdown for Maia's. The sectioned duster and winged cloak are attached to a shrug-style jacket base. Beneath that, a standard button up and bottoms combo that wouldn't seem too out of place in any academy. The button ups have the school's emblem (or student's attunement) embroidered on its sleeve in the same color as the shirt, creating a subtle visible effect when catching the light. A completed version with more detailed reference will come a bit later to include details for the trim, the enchantment sigils, back views and other details. The Rothsraine uniform has several accepted alternate options accessible via its enchantments, as well, but for here's Maia's!

[sesamenom]

Ar-Pharazon from the Reverse Gondolin AU and as Witch-King of Numenor - thanks to @who-needs-words for helping develop this idea!

[proqhetic]

lottie doodles while procrastinating LOL

[reliquiaria]

hello mooties <3 sorry for being unable to keep up with all of you !! i’m currently fighting demons (my roman history exam which i’m preparing for with an abysmally fucked and short studying schedule) so if i disappear for a couple days don’t worry! i’m just busy with getting my ass beat by a gaius or marius or claudius or god knows who at this point

[persimminwrites]

when you're at work and an idea for art you want to make hits you and you just have to sit there like this

[goddevouringserpent]

(all our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death.)

old art. but I still kind of like it

[ethereal-maia]

i cannot stop thinking about beelzebub they are soooo character design

[thtupidity-wips]

Slight changes have been made, this is just a quick lazy sketch bc GOD I gotta sleep

[backwardpuzzle]

heartburn

[churchmousey]

happy(?) harpy family! from left to right: Lyra (older middle), Phoebe (youngest), Maia (stepmother), Bas (family friend), Cassiopeia (birth mother), Deliah (younger middle), and Gian (oldest).

[bleaksqueak]

I would read an entire book about the magic system and study in Solivaga… i love intense worldbuilding. Do sigils retain/transmit energy or intent through a shape or letter system? Neither, and simply have to be unique and enchanted by the Magi making the sigil?? Or is that more the concept behind Loci… Maia can use sigils, but cannot make her own? Does the attunement of the caster affect the sigil?

None of these are specific questions, I just love the amount of detail in everything. (But if you want to answer anything… I would not stop you 👀

On the other hand if you’ve answered any of this before ignore me)

So I've been wanting to answer this one since the day you sent it, but between my backwards sleep schedule and being busy, I just hadn't had a moment to or the brain power to... yet, today I am here. Sigils absolutely retain the energy and intent spent to make them. You might notice in Chapter 2 when Prof. GB gifts Maia the imbued sigil, even when dormant, it's radiating *her* aetheric signature's color and energy. When activated, the Trapper's Thrall retains the aetheric signature of the magi who originally cast it. Maia remarks later that it's always ever been borrowed magic-- because, to her, especially, it has. She's never seen her own magic's signature, but she's seen, through these pre-cast imbues, the magic of others. Madame Zoe, the owner of the Apothecary (and knickknacks) shop that Maia works at, sells imbued sigils that she (and Maia's coworker, who we'll meet in another chapter) make. There's other shops around town where they can be purchased, including specialty shops that sell them for convenience, younger/elderly magi, and as general disability aids for those who need them. Their most common usage is simply that of convenience-- a sigil cast has already had that aether spent, stored, and replenished for the magi who made it, saving the need to expend further aether in the now for someone who needs to catch some pests or who wants to have their floors swept up and cleaned. Cooling down, heating up, a spare light, pain relief-- even party tricks, ready made sigils are great usage for convenience. As for how they're made-- The spells all have a precise shape language that builds their foundation. The trapper's thrall I did three stages for in chapter 2 -- the precise geometric perfection of the spell in its official state, I did Madame Zoe's handwritten version, and then I did Prof. Gwennebat's.

You can see them here... the slight differences between the two quickly hand written ones, and the perfected model. The spell in its entirety is written in the sigil itself, and the more complex the spell, the more dynamic the working parts of the geometric language that comprises it. Madame Zoe is older and never became an eidolon, but her work is enough to catch some Mice or Gallynappers (you know, crane flies!) like Maia said. Gwennebat is, however, an eidolic expert in her field, and her shorthand writ for this spell reflects a stronger sense of knowing exactly what must be and where. Each spell must maintain the exact necessity of the language to summon it, but new ones can be made (Granted, this isn't exactly an easy task, and a great deal of the most commonly used spells used by magi within the veil were all coined by a single, well documented scholar from the time before "the worlds were split", as Prof Rasputin put it.). It's a very pictographic writing system with individual sigils themselves feeling more akin to a writing system like kanji, but it's not advised to string a bunch of sigils together to form a cheeky sentence. That's how buildings get evacuated at worst, and angry neighbours at best. As for Maia, before I end this-- Maia can use any sigil so long as she has her vial. Her vial may not be attuned, and it may be magically weak as all nascent aether is, but the vial casing itself and the housed nascent aether still behaves as the catalysts of will. So long as Maia provides these things and enters the mental state required to connect to and summon from the pre-cast sigil, she doesn't need words of invocation, the spell will activate. She carries a fairly large stack of varied, commonly needed sigils with her at all times in her bag. Those imbued on slips of parchment are sadly single usage, so she needs to restock fairly often... luckily, Madame Zoe is fairly generous with her and gives them to her free in exchange for a little bit of extra work around the shop.

[lovebugism]

hi bug! Can I request you a ditzy or shy!reader where some girl flirts with Steve in front of her maybe at Family Video? Little angsty because she feels insicure of herself? Thank you🩷

ty for requesting!! — steve doesn't realize he's being flirted with because he's so in love with you (ditzy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, 1.6k)

You color in a scribbled heart with enough vigor to break the pink crayon in your hand.

Steve always hangs your drawings in his locker in the Family Video break room, so you tend to take your art pretty seriously. ‘Cause there’s absolutely nothing humorous about the two stick figures holding hands — each of them vaguely resembling the both of you — that you’re passionately scribbling behind the front counter.

He’d watch you work your magic on a piece of lined scrap paper if he could. He’s too busy tending to a regular now. Mia, he thinks, or maybe Maia. She rents movies every week, but according to the system, she doesn’t watch a single one of them. 

“Well, what do you recommend?” she questions with a smirk on her painted lips, leaning her elbows on the counter until her chest juts out.

Steve leans slowly backward and tries not to cough at the overwhelming scent of her fruity perfume. “Uh… I don’t know,” he answers with an unenthusiastic shrug. “I usually just watch whatever.”

The girl squints her dolled-up eyes. “You don’t have a favorite movie?” 

Steve ponders the question for a moment. ‘Cause he doesn’t have one, really. All his favorite films are your favorites because he spends the majority of movie nights watching you instead.

So, at a loss of how to answer, he tells her your first choice. “The Star Wars movies are pretty alright.”

“Do you have them here?” she wonders.

Steve nods and points her in the other direction. “Yeah. In the Sci-Fi section.”

“Can you show me?” the girl questions with a hopeful glint in her pale eyes. Everything about her sparkles with mischief, like a predator hunting for prey. Stealthy, like a ninja, Steve would’ve called the approach a couple years ago. Long before he found you.

He’s more into forthright proclamations of love these days — bubblegum pink lipstick stains pressed to his cheek and handmade pictures drawn in crayon.

But, for the sake of Keith totally reaming him for not helping a customer, Steve nods and rounds the front counter. “Uh. Yeah. Sure. Follow me,” he urges halfheartedly, sparing you a forlorn glance as he goes. You’re much too distracted to see it, though.

You’re too distracted to notice most things, really.

That’s why Robin’s angrier than you are about the whole thing. She exhales a big huff and stands across from you, peering over the tower of tapes there. “God, he’s so oblivious,” she groans.

Your hand freezes as you color in Steve’s vest. You glance up at her with wide eyes, heart sinking at the annoyed look on her freckled features. “Huh?”

“Steve. That girl’s been drooling over him for five minutes, and he hasn’t even realized.”

Your brows pinch. “What girl?”

“The one that’s hanging all over him,” Robin answers, nodding her head to the other side of the store. The girl in question lingers at Steve’s side, a little too close to be casual. She hangs on every word he says — which certainly can’t be a whole lot, considering he knows next to nothing about that Star Wars franchise.

“I thought she was just being nice,” you shrug.

“She was flirting with your boyfriend,” Robin corrects in a monotone. “It was disgusting. I’m pretty sure her flirt got all over my pants.”

You look back at the two across the room. Steve tenses when the pretty redhead presses her chest against his arm. For the sake of not making things totally awkward, he forces himself not to shrink away. What had seemed virtually innocuous to you now makes your stomach ache. 

“She’s so pretty…” you observe quietly to yourself. 

Robin only scoffs. “Yeah. If you’re into girls like that.”

You don’t know exactly what she means, but it makes you lean slightly forward in interest anyway. “Do you think… Do you think Steve’s into girls like that?”

“No,” Robin answers, features twisted like it’s obvious. “He’s into girls like you.”

For the first time ever, you find that slightly hard to believe. Why would Steve ever pick you over someone like her? The way she smiles is pretty. The way she laughs is pretty. Even the way she talks is pretty.

And what do you have? A couple of stupid crayon portraits?

A strange feeling sears your chest when Steve and the pretty girl walk back to the counter. He must’ve told her a joke or something ‘cause she tips back her head to laugh loudly in response. Jealous tears sting your eyes accordingly. You take your art and your box of dull crayons and scurry off to the break room.

“I can help you check out!” Robin offers, suddenly very chipper. 

The redhead’s face twists. “Oh. I thought that—”

“Steve’s needed in the breakroom, actually,” Robin tells her when the stranger’s pleading eyes flit to the boy beside her. “I can handle it from here.”

“Wait— What’s in the breakroom?” he wonders obliviously.

“Your girlfriend, dingus.”

Steve blinks once. The sudden lack of your presence makes his chest ache. He stalks off to find you without another word.

The redhead, Mia or Maia or whatever, doesn’t bother to disguise the shock painting her dainty features. “Girlfriend?” she echoes, quiet with disbelief.

Robin nods and takes the tapes from her hands, knowing she’s only renting them ‘cause she thought Steve liked them. The scanner beeps as she rings them up. “Yeah. He’s kinda in love with her, turns out. It’s disgusting.”

The conversation fades the further Steve gets down the hall. He opens the door to the back room with a grating squeak. The rusted hinges screech again in protest when he swings it shut behind him. He finds you slouched over the table, vehemently scribbling with vibrantly colored crayons.

He can’t help but smile at the sight of you. “Whatcha doin’?” he lilts in place of a greeting, sliding back a chair to sit across from you.

“Nothin’…” you mutter distantly.

Steve folds his arms over the tabletop and rests his chin on top of them. It bobs with every word. “Why’d you leave me, huh?”

You shrug with a faint I don’t know type of sound.

“Can I see what you’re drawing, at least?” 

He grins and reaches for you without thinking — because you always let him see. Needless to say, when flinch suddenly away from him, it scares him far more than it should. You scramble to cover the paper with your arms like you’re doing something wrong. 

“No,” you answer in a mousy voice.

A chuckle spills from Steve’s mouth. “What? Why? You always show me.”

“It’s stupid…”

“It’s not stupid! I love when you draw stuff for me,” the boy insists with a lopsided smile, distantly surprised by your sheepishness. The pretty pink grin slips from his mouth at the crestfallen glint in your eye. He softens without thinking. “What’s wrong? What happened? Did— Did Robin say something?”

“No.” 

“Then what?”

You avert your eyes from his prying ones, feeling half-suffocated beneath his honeyed gaze. You start to color again with an absentminded hand, if only to have something else to look at. “You’re just…” you trail off, shifting uncomfortably in your chair. “You’re too pretty.”

He laughs before he means to. “What?”

“You’re pretty, and I don’t like that other people get to look at you,” you confess quietly, coloring in Steve’s hair with the ‘deep golden’ crayon. “It’s not fair— No one else should think you’re as beautiful as I do. I don’t like that.”

Steve props his chin on his palm and hides his grin behind his fingers. He reaches for your busy hand with his free one to get your attention. “Well, you know what?” he starts when your eyes flit up to his. “You’re the only one I want looking at me. So what everyone else thinks doesn’t really matter.”

“It is when they’re drooling all over you,” you answer with a scrunched nose.

Steve can’t help but scoff out a laugh. Those words have Robin Buckley written all over them. 

“Last I heard, Rob was giving that girl what for, so… you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he tells you, both to soothe the misplaced jealousy and to make you smile. He thinks it only half works. “Can I tell you a secret?”

You perk up at that. Steve grins and leans in close like he’s about to confess something serious. His dark eyes twinkle with mischief. 

“I’m so stupid in love with you that I forget other girls exist sometimes,” he murmurs in true secret-spilling fashion. “And when they’re… drooling all over me? I don’t even see it. ‘Cause all I’m thinking about is how I have my own girl back home. And that I’d much rather have her drooling on me.”

“…Am I the girl?” you press in a tiny voice, just to be sure.

“Yes, baby, I’m talking about you,” Steve chuckles. “You should know that— You’rethe one drooling on my pillow every morning.”

Your nose scrunches sheepishly. “You’ve said that word too many times… It doesn’t sound real anymore.”

“What’s that called again?”

“Semantic satiation,” you answer without missing a beat.

“Well, now I’m gonna tell you I love you ’til you’re semantically satiated,” the boy teases with a knowing squint in his eyes. “‘Cause I love you.”

“Steve.”

“I love you.”

“Stop,” you say, sterner now, though your gaze still glimmers with something soft. Your eyes follow his form when he rises from the table, shifting the short distance to sit in the chair closest to you. “Steve, stop—”

“I love you,” he repeats, anyway, taking you into his arms and smacking a dramatic kiss to your warm cheek. Between each innocuous peck, he mumbles, “I love you— I love you— I love you—”

Steve doesn’t stop kissing you until he hears you giggling again. The pretty sound brightens the dull breakroom. And all he can think about is what a lucky schmuck he is. To get to kiss you and make you laugh forever.