#oc clove

[dread0narrival]

I am so obsessed with Clover rn. I am so excited to see how dark his character can get, since he seems so chill in the demo 💞

[sugarwyns]

artfight is so fun i genuinely have never been rly motivated to make refs for my characters before but now i cant stop 😭

just a few of my harvest moon/story of seasons girls ! i have a few more but im redoing their designs. now i need to get back to working on revenges and attacks ^^

(i really wanna get the a wonderful life remake but im holding off for now ;; )

[artificial-radiance]

chapter 3: the unicorn

yes i have a princess oc :]

she branches from the damsel, and would occur when you decide to leave her chained up in the basement, alone. the one she thought would be her hero has abandoned her, so she became her own savior. possible voices would include skeptic, cold, and paranoid. i like to picture her as sounding similar to prisoner, but with a bit more feeling to her -- she's angry with the player and speaks matter-of-factly, and has her own and your destiny in her hands so long as she has the blade.

i drew this mostly because i wanted to emulate the chibi style for stp :]

was very fun -- i loved drawing the eyes

[hallowshumour]

My fursona timeline idk 🦝🦌🦌🦓

[archaicbones]

Clove Doodle - Digital

[flatw00ds]

two of them

[synth-peach]

a series i did to document clove's lore before 2077, definitely inspired by this post from @wraithsoutlaws because i loved it so much ♡♡

[chaobunnyarts]

Working on getting a carrd set up for my ffxiv oc's which means drawing little matching portraits for them!

[z0mbcat]

some none sonic related stuff + lined drawing for a Cloveang post lol

Expect more cookie run in the near future

[alli-ily]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY BAES @oya-oya-okay & @clovenoko 🥰🥳🫶🎉✨

💌🎂

Even though we’ve only just met, you both have already brightened my days with your kindness and support😭😭🫶✨ you guys have no idea how thankful I am to have met you two, it always makes me smile when I get to interact with you guys 🥹🫶✨ and see your amazing and gorgeous arts‼️‼️🥰

I hope we get more interaction in the future and further strengthen our bonds as moots🥰🙏‼️✨

So as a thank you—and a little birthday gift🎉💜—for being such an amazing twins to not only me but to others as well, I made this for you🥰✨‼️I really hope you like it, and I’m wishing you both a lifetime of happiness, good health, and many more birthdays to come 🙏🫶✨ MUWAHHH 💋💋✨

Art Reference: Here

[my-heart-beat-for-anime]

Fighter and Mother / Cato H. x OC

The night was cold and long. The house we call home is small and simple, but inside, there are seven of us—me and the six children fate has placed in my care. There isn’t much space, so we sleep together on a large bed made from a patchwork of old mattresses and blankets. We press close, not just for space but for warmth.

Mads, the youngest, is curled up against my chest, his tiny fingers clutching the fabric of my nightgown. Beside me sleeps Sunny, twelve years old, the only one who might still remember what it was like to have parents of his own. His breathing is steady, but I know he never sleeps deeply. His body is tense, always ready to wake and take care of the others.

Lucila and Poppy, ten-year-old girls, sleep on the other side, entwined like two delicate branches. They are inseparable, each the other's anchor. Poppy murmurs something in her sleep and nestles closer to Lucila, who instinctively pulls her into a gentle embrace.

Lerus, seven, is sprawled across the bed, his light hair tousled, legs stretched out so far that one of them dangles off the edge. And little Zira, only five, is curled up near Lucila’s feet, clutching the rag doll I once stitched together from fabric scraps.

Something wakes me. At first, just a slight movement—Mads shifting in his sleep—then a soft whimper. I open my eyes. The room is still dim, the first morning light barely seeping through the cracks in the walls.

I know what day it is.

Reaping.

A familiar weight settles in my chest. It’s the same every year. The worst part is always the morning—that brief moment when everything still feels normal, when the children are still asleep, and the house is quiet. But then comes the moment when we have to face reality.

Mads stirs again and lets out a faint whine. I run my hand gently over his back and pull him closer. “Shh, little one, I’m here,” I whisper.

Beside me, Sunny shifts slightly. “Zinny? " His voice is quiet but alert.

“Lie down for a little longer,” I whisper back.

“It’s Reaping Day.”

I know he knows. But he says it anyway. Maybe to remind himself that it’s real, that we can’t escape it.

“I know,” I say.

There’s a pause. Then, I feel him inch closer, just a little. Like he used to when he was younger, when nightmares woke him in the middle of the night.

“It’ll be alright, Sunny,” I whisper. Though I’m not sure if I’m trying to comfort him or myself.

Before long, the house stirs. Poppy shifts and stretches, Lucila smacks her lips in her sleep. Lerus rolls onto his side, pulling half the blanket with him, making Zira grumble in protest.

“Stop that,” she mutters, still half-asleep.

“I’m awake,” Poppy announces, sitting up. She rubs her eyes and yawns. Lucila follows suit.

“Good morning,” I say softly.

But no one responds with the usual morning cheer. Everyone knows what today is.

I rise first. Mads is still clinging to me, so I lift him into my arms, stroking his back. “Let’s make some tea,” I suggest.

Lucila stretches. “We still have a little chamomile,” she muses.

Poppy glances at the shelf where we keep the herbs they gathered from the Meadow. “We could mix it with mint.”

The children move into their small morning tasks. Sunny rekindles the fire in the hearth while I heat water in our old pot. Lerus helps bring the cups, though his hands are still clumsy with sleep.

In these moments, we are just a normal family. We may not be bound by blood, but we are bound by something stronger. The older ones care for the younger ones, and I care for them all.

Breakfast is simple—a bit of stale bread, traded for a mended coat, and warm tea. We eat in silence. Mads sits on my lap, nibbling on a crust.

Then comes the time to dress.

Our clothes aren’t luxurious like the ones children from wealthier families wear, but they are clean and carefully mended. Every piece of fabric was once something else, but I’ve tried to make them beautiful. Even though we are poor, each garment is embroidered with colorful threads to hide the seams and patches.

“You look beautiful,” I tell Lucila, smoothing down her sleeves. She smiles, but her eyes betray her nervousness.

Poppy adjusts her skirt. “We look like a rainbow,” she whispers.

“And that’s a good thing,” I reply.

Once everyone is ready, the hardest moment arrives.

We have to go to the square.

The sun was slowly rising over District Twelve as we stepped out of the house. The air was heavy, thick with unease that hung over the town like a suffocating fog. The walk to the square was short, but today, it felt endless. The children stayed close together, moving in silence.

By the time we arrived, the crowd was already forming. Peacekeepers stood at their posts, motionless like statues, ensuring that everyone took their designated places.

I knelt down beside Lucila, Poppy, Lerus, and Zira, gently brushing my hands over theirs. "You have to go there," I said, nodding toward the gathered spectators.

"I don’t want to," Poppy whispered.

"I know," I replied softly. "But you must. I’ll be right there, with Sunny. When it’s over, we’ll find each other. Alright?"

Lerus clung to Lucila’s hand, his eyes filled with worry. Zira only gave a small nod, her tiny fingers still gripping the fabric of my skirt.

Lucila took a deep breath and squeezed their hands. "We’ll go together."

I watched them as they disappeared into the crowd. Zira glanced back one last time before vanishing among the sea of people.

Taking a deep breath, I turned to Sunny. His jaw was clenched tight, but he gave me a small nod. Together, we walked toward the entrance of the designated area.

The Peacekeepers stopped us as soon as we reached them. We had to go through the registration process.

Without a word, Sunny extended his arm to have his blood drawn. I stood still, though I felt Mads shifting against my chest, letting out a quiet, unhappy whimper.

"You can’t take him inside," one of the Peacekeepers said.

Mads’ soft whimper turned into a distressed whine.

"If I put him down, he’ll cry loudly and cause a disturbance," I said calmly, though I was boiling inside. "I don’t want trouble. Just let him stay. I won’t put him down."

The Peacekeepers exchanged glances. One of them, an older man with a stern face, frowned slightly and shook his head but ultimately stepped aside.

"Fine. But no trouble."

I nodded.

Sunny glanced at me briefly, and then we stepped into the designated area. Around us, the other boys and girls from the district stood in their best—yet still humble—clothes. No one spoke. No one smiled.

Then Effie Trinket stepped onto the stage, and the bright, practiced smile she wore was like a slap in the face against the silence.

Effie Trinket stepped onto the stage, a false smile plastered on her lips. She spoke a few rehearsed phrases that no one was really listening to, and then she reached into the bowl.

"The female tribute for the 74th Hunger Games is…"

I felt as if the entire district held its breath.

"Zinnia Reid!"

For a moment, the world went silent. It was as if everything had stopped, and the only thing that existed was that name, spoken into the microphone. My name.

"Zinnia Reid!" Effie Trinket repeated, louder and clearer this time.

At first, nothing. Just silence as everyone in the crowd processed those two words.

And then—a scream.

"No!"

Lucila.

Then more voices.

"Zinny!" Poppy pushed through the crowd, shoving other children aside as she ran toward me. Lerus started sobbing, his tiny fists clutching at Lucila’s skirt. Zira just stood there, shaking, silent tears streaming down her cheeks.

"This is a mistake!" someone from the adults shouted.

"She can't go! Who will take care of the children?" another voice called out.

The Peacekeepers started moving, slow but determined. I saw one of them step toward the children, ready to hold them back.

And then—Sunny.

Sunny, who never cried. Who was always the reasonable one, the calm one, older than he should have been. Sunny, who wrapped his arms around me, buried his face in my skirt, and sobbed.

"Don’t… don’t go… please…"

His shoulders shook, his fingers digging into the fabric.

I took a deep breath. My heart was pounding, but I knew I couldn't hesitate. If I did—if I let myself falter for even a second—there would be no coming back from it.

I knelt in front of him, placing my hands on his shoulders, forcing him to look at me. His eyes were filled with tears, but beneath them, there was something else. Panic. Raw, pure panic.

"Sunny," I said as steadily as I could.

He shook his head. "No… don’t go, Zinny, please…"

"I have to."

"But—"

"Look at me," I interrupted, my voice firm. "Look at me, Sunny."

He swallowed hard, his gaze locking onto mine.

"You have to be strong," I said softly. "You have to take care of them. Do you understand?"

"I don’t want to…" His voice broke. "I don’t want you not to come back."

I took another deep breath, as if that could somehow hold back the pain ripping through my chest. I didn’t tell him I would come back. I couldn’t lie to him. Instead, I pressed Mads into his arms, and the little boy immediately squirmed and whimpered.

"Promise me," I said. "Promise me you’ll protect them."

Sunny was trembling. I could see the war inside him—the part of him that was still a child, wanting to say no, and the part of him that had never had a choice but to grow up too soon.

In the end, he pressed his lips together and nodded.

"Okay," he whispered. "I promise."

I ran my fingers through his hair one last time before rising to my feet.

Poppy grabbed my hand. "Mom…" Her voice was shaking.

I smiled at her, even though it hurt. "It’s going to be okay."

It wasn’t true. But maybe she needed to believe it.

I cupped her cheek gently, then turned away. One last glance at their faces—Zira, still silent, tears dripping down her chin; Lerus, clinging to Lucila; Sunny, standing there with Mads in his arms, looking as if he was breaking into a million pieces.

And then I walked toward the stage.

With every step, it felt like the world around me slowed. Every breath was heavier, every stare from the crowd burned into my skin.

When I reached the platform, I turned.

Lucila had fallen to her knees. Lerus was crying loudly. Zira had finally collapsed into Poppy’s arms. And Sunny… he just stood there, holding Mads tightly, looking like his entire world was being ripped apart.

I tried to stand tall. To be strong.

Because if I broke—who would be strong for them?

PART 2?

[meltedvinyls]

@comikbook held me at gunpoint and forced me to make a cowfolk so here’s clove

[artificial-radiance]

Voice of the Pursuer (Hunted/Stubborn)

made a chart of fusions for all the voices, this is just one of like. 55

drawn in my three voice styles

[perfriff]

[flowerakatsuka]

after trying to figure out his design for awhile, i finally finished a reference for kuroba's granddad, chouji!

[ more info under the cut! ]

YOTSUBANA CHOUJI ( first name meaning clove )

~ 70 years old • he / him • 6'2" ( 188 cm )

Kuroba's maternal grandfather and the previous florist at Yotsubana Florals. He opened the shop with his late wife, Hibiki, but after her passing and experiencing a severe fall at work, he retired and Kuroba took over the daily operations of the store. Currently, he lives with Kuroba's parents in Yokohama and checks in on them every other month, ( they talk over the phone almost daily, though. ) Despite his grumpy appearance, Chouji is actually pretty level-headed and kind. He can be fairly stubborn at times, though. Kuroba and him are very close, especially after Hibiki's passing. They respect him quite a lot as their grandfather and their mentor. His accident at the store rattled them quite a lot and lead to them fretting over him a lot more.

Born and raised in Akatsuka, but both of his parents were from Osaka.

Met Hibiki and fell in love at first sight while visiting Okinawa to study Okinawan Hibiscus, which her family was a supplier of.

His cat, Giku, was a former stray that hung around the shop near the time Hibiki passed. Eventually, she refused to leave the store so Chouji took her in. Her coloring reminded him of daisies, which were one of Hibiki's favorite flowers. Because of that, he also says that she sent her to keep an eye on him.

He started taking care of the family's garden when he moved to Yokohama, as well as getting really into tending to bonsai. Giku is the garden's " guardian " and chases off beetles that try to munch on their plants.

Karamatsu was EXTREMELY intimidated by Chouji when they first met, but they actually hit it off pretty quickly, ( especially when Karamatsu showed a lot of interest in hearing about Hibiki and his love story. ) He's grown kind of fond of him, which makes sense since Kuroba and him are pretty similar. Also, he's started looking into getting a Dwarf Blue Larix bonsai. No particular reason why.

Kuroba typically calls him Ochoujii-san, but will sometimes drop the honorific.

[synth-peach]

sanctuary ♡