writingpracticeiguess

[writingpracticeiguess]

I received several messages asking about the brushes I use / how I colour, so here are my brush settings and the colouring processes of two of my shading styles using these settings! (feat. Klein fire emblem)

They’re like my jack-of-all-trades brushes and I adjust the edge shape (the four icons in the top row) and the density according to how I want to use them.

Some notes:

I did all of these in normal layer mode but you’re encouraged to experiment with various layer modes (like multiply for shading, screen/overlay for lighting) to make your life easier

If you’re concerned about tidiness, you can draw on a large canvas and shrink the piece down later

Hope this helps!

[writingpracticeiguess]

“The one you proposed with or the one that seals that evil demon thing away”

“The evil demon one”

“Yeah I still have that one laying around”

“Do you still have the ring I gave you?”

[writingpracticeiguess]

“Maybe if your curiosity leads you to the garbage I couldn’t take out before you whisked me off on another adventure you’d figure out why”

“Hey it’s not my fault you don’t do your chores I’m a guardian angel not a garbage man angel”

“Your apartment smells curiously like garbage.”

[writingpracticeiguess]

“Just holding them for a mate”

“Who are you?”

“No one important.”

“Oh, ok. So if you’re so ‘unimportant’, would you care to explain the crown and the flaming sword?”

[writingpracticeiguess]

Fathers day

I haven’t written in ages and I’m kinda sick but have some red hood on fathers day because I want him to be happy. 

He clutched the package so tight he was scared it would break, his knuckles almost white as he stared intently at the stunted wrapping paper. Trying to build the courage to just knock on the door. Breathing heavily he slammed his hand quickly against the old wood, trying not to leave before someone answered the door. Bruce swung the door open smiling, a new cut on his cheek and a batman party hat resting on his still messy hair. Jason watched the brief moment of shock flash across his face before he managed a grin.

“Hello Jason, it’s good to see you”

“Look I just wanted to say happy fathers day, I know I’m not always the best and I can be rude but you’ve been there for me even if I don’t see it and I got you this so you would know but you might already have it I didn’t check” he rambled on the door stop. Waving the gift back and forth as everything he wanted to say just fell out of his mouth. 

“Jason” Bruce cut him off “I’m really glad you came, we’ve never really talked properly and that’s more my fault then yours but I’m proud of you and I’m very thankful for the gift. Can I open it?”

Jason nodded nervously and Bruce neatly cut away the wrapping paper.

“It’s the special edition Mask of Zorro, it has directors commentary and bloopers and special features and comes in a cool metal case, I know you always liked it.” 

“It’s brilliant” Bruce laughed “It’s the nicest thing I’ve gotten all day, there is one other thing I’d like though. This movies a family film, I’d love to watch it with my whole family. Would you like to come in and watch it with everyone else? I couldn’t watch it with a son short”

[writingpracticeiguess]

I know I don’t say this enough but thanks for following me. it means a lot.

[writingpracticeiguess]

Hatred of a clown

A story based on @ogboywonder ‘s idea of batfam members bonding over shared trauma, this one’s Jaybird and Babs bonding over what the joker did to them. Sort of. I hope you like it and if you want me to continue it or write a different one I’d be more than happy to just let me know.

Jason could feel the rough, cold stone digging into his back and shoved his face further between his legs praying they wouldn’t see him cry. He could feel Bruce and Dick watching him and knew they were having the silent conversations they’d always had when he was still robin. The ones he didn’t understand. The ones he was never part of.

He hated that Bruce had saved him. He thought he was ready. That he could prove himself after he’d let him down so badly before. But he wasn’t. 

It was the laugh, that horrible manic laugh that rung in his ears and he collapsed, his knees gave way and his breath caught and he was stuck gasping on the floor until Bruce saved him. He could feel his shoulders shaking and desperately tried to push into the wall, to disappear before they saw how broken he’d become.

“I know how you feel you know”

Jason looked up tentatively to see Barbara, she looked just how he remembered, her hair pulled back into a long ponytail, ginger freckles dotting her nose and those same black rimmed glasses that sat slightly askew in front of her warm green eyes. Then he noticed she was sitting, noticed the chair.

“When did you? How did you?” he stuttered

“He did it” she smiled, leaning closer to him “he hurt me like he hurt you, to get at my dad instead of Bruce, the only luck I got was I managed to live through the experience”

Jason couldn’t look at her, he choked down a sob and slid further down onto the cave floor.

“I couldn’t kill him Barbara, he was right there. Right there. And I froze, I couldn’t even stand up and face him” 

“It’s okay Jason, I still can’t bring myself to. But I made my own choices, I’m Bruce's’ eyes and I can see absolutely everything in Gotham. I took control of what I have and now. Now he can’t come near me ever again” 

“What am I supposed to do then” he muttered 

“You start small, stand up. Go say hi to Dick, he’s missed you so much. Then get better, grow stronger, help any way you can and don’t push yourself” 

Jason nodded absently, managing to sit up and brush the remainder of his tears off his cheeks.

“Do you think Bruce will let me stay here? I really don’t want to go back to my place tonight”

“I can do you one better” Barbara smiled “I live in just about the safest building in Gotham and on top of that I have heaps of old comedy films and more popcorn than you could eat”

“I wouldn’t bet on that” Jason laughed softly as he pulled himself off the floor “but I really love the idea, thanks Barbara”

“Barbara’s way too formal, I feel like I’m talking to Bruce” she smiled back “Dick calls me Babs, and thinking of that you have to talk to him before we go. He worries.”

He sighed but shuffled towards him anyway, Barbara watching him as she wondered how he’d take sleeping in Dicks spare bed for the night.

[writingpracticeiguess]

“Trust me I won’t, it’s all there is to you”

“That’s so harsh” he pouted “surely there’s more to me than that”

“Let’s see there’s your arrogance, ego, constant depreciation of others and your general recklessness that gets everyone into bedlam. Yeah I think that’s it”

He sighed and collapsed backwards into his armchair. 

“There’s literally nothing else?”

“Well I guess you’re funny on occasion”

“Funny, I can die with that” he giggled to himself as he collapsed into his chairs leather, his shoulders slumped inwards on himself.

“I’m afraid that when I die everyone will forget my flaws.”

[writingpracticeiguess]

Jason pushed himself flush against the chimney and struggled to contain his laughter as the sound of Damian's wheezing came through his ear. He leant round the brickwork to try and catch Bruce with a second snowball only to see a flash of white before the impact rocked his head backwards. 

“How the fuck did he manage that” he could hear Tim gasping as he brushed the snow out of his hair.

“You got fucked Todd”

“Language Damian” Came Bruce’s stern voice over the comms 

“He hacked us already, how did he even know this would happen” Jason moaned

“Someone told him we were coming” Tim added 

“Grayson, the bastard told him”

“Language! Damian” 

“I shouldn’t have done that but I’m very, very happy that i did.”

[writingpracticeiguess]

Red hood  and Robin

So people seemed to like red hood and batman together so I thought I’d try Tim talking to Jason as more of an open thing than the Batman conversation. 

Jason sat on the edge of one of Gotham's many gargoyles with his blood leaking through his fingers and tried desperately to stay conscious. The winds at this height whipped against his bare skin helping to keep him awake but the blood loss was beginning to take hold as he felt his breathing hitch and watched the city blur in front of him. The last thing he felt before he passed out was a hand wrap firmly around his arm and yank him backwards away from the growing sidewalk. 

He woke up on a rooftop to firm hands probing his wound, putting all the effort he had into turning his face he was met with the familiar green mask he’d grown to hate.

“Fucking brilliant” he murmured bitterly “the replacement”

“Except this one wears trousers, I’m Tim”

“Fuck off”

He watched him smile slightly as he leant back to admire his handiwork, seemingly satisfied he started shoving bandages hastily back into his belt and pushed himself up to his feet.

“Y’know I wasn’t around for what happened to you, but I was around for what it did to Bruce, it ruined him, more than you know and you seem to be causing him a fair bit of issue right now.”

“You think I care what he thinks of me?”

“I think it’s all you care about, you just too stubborn to go back to him and he’s too stubborn to admit how much he needs you to.”

“Oh please, if he cared he might have waited a while before he dragged you off the street”

“If you bothered to ask instead of yelling your assumptions at anyone you see you’d realise I came to him. He was so torn up over you that he was basically dying every time he left the cave. He needed me so he didn’t leave the whole city as abandoned as you think you are”

“You have anyway of proving that boy wonder” 

Tim turned round and looked him over, his cocky smile still plastered on his face.

“He keeps your copy of Hamlet and King Lear on the table in your room, just something to think about next time you try to kill him.”

[writingpracticeiguess]

Any Requests?

Um hello, I’m not sure how many of you are comfortable talking to strangers or how many enjoy my writing enough to be fussed but if any of you have any ideas or prompts I’d be happy to write them for you. Just send me an ask or something.

Either way I really appreciate you lot hanging around, I didn’t really expect anyone to wanna see my practice so it’s really nice of you and I promise I’ll at least try do something good every so often.

Thanks 

L

[writingpracticeiguess]

Jason and Bruce

The first time the two really talk since Jason returns, albeit not a nice conversation. Edit, i fixed all the mistakes i made writing this when i was knackered. sorry

Jason felt his jaw break as Bruce punched him and felt his hatred melt into petty anguish as he bounced off the dirty street floor.

“Are you fucking kidding me” he screamed at the Bat who stood over him “you break my fucking jaw.”

“You’ve been killing people Jason! murdering people. Why didn’t you just come back to me, to us” 

“You think I didn’t try” Jason laughed, his voice like broken glass “You think after being dragged horribly out of that pool, after being left choking in the middle of nowhere that being back with you wasn’t the only thing I thought about. It took me months to get here Bruce and then I saw you, flying through the sky with my replacement, like I was never even there!”

“You think it’s like that” Bruce screamed back, taking Jason by surprise with his sudden show of emotion. “You think I didn’t mourn you. The only reason Tim was there was because I needed someone to stop me from becoming you!”

His last sentence hung in the air between them and Jason could feel the regret that leaked out of him, he watched his shoulders sag under the weight of what he’d said. But he didn’t care anymore, he knew what he really thought. 

“Fuck you Bruce” he muttered managing to hide the tears in his eyes as he dragged himself to his feet “tell Grayson if he tries to come near me again you’ll lose a second boy wonder, and I know you actually care about that one.”

“Jason stop” he pushed desperately “Please”

“I can’t Bruce, we wouldn’t want me being a bad influence after all. God forbid you end up like me.”

[writingpracticeiguess]

Transmutation

Just something small because I need to keep practicing or I’ll never be any good, it might have been done before but when Ed want’s to see further into the gate when he’s pulled before Truth he’s allowed to, but loses both his arms leaving him unable to save Al during the process. 

Ed stood before the gate and pushed his hands against it excitedly.

“I wasn’t wrong, human transmutation can be done, I just need to know more, please let me go back.” 

“Are you sure?, you’ve already paid a high price for the knowledge I’ve given you,for me to give you more I’d have to take something more, equivalent exchange right?” the truth answered him, an evident lace of malice underlying the humour in his voice. 

“yes of course, I have to know the rest” Ed replied without thinking

“Go ahead then” the truth smiled as the gate swung open for a second time “but remember that you asked for this, it’s on your hands”

Ed woke up on the floor of his basement facing the pile of empty clothes where his brother should have been, he could see in his head what could be done and realised what he had payed for the knowledge he’d been given. He could feel the pain at his shoulders and knew he’d his arms taken. Pushing himself along the floor he tried helplessly to climb up the wall. Flailing desperately against the dirty brick to try get to the armour that stood over his useless attempts to save his brothers soul.

“please” he gasped as he fell back into the growing pool of blood seeping across the floor “he’s my only brother, bring him back, please just bring him back” 

[writingpracticeiguess]

“Not many people would want to I imagine but in a weird way your grave says quite a lot about you doesn’t it. The people closest to you collectively decide how you’re going to be memorialized forever. They pick the brief words that will describe the sum of your life, and what mantle will forever bear it. My first grave once sat under a small tree in France, I was buried in the 15th century after I died of an illness that could now be cured in minutes and a small carving of ‘loving husband’ in the tree I rested under was all my first wife could afford to give me. My second was only 12 years later, I died in the hundred year war and was given an unmarked grave that I shared with 30 other soldiers, it’s by far my least favorite of them all. 

For as long as I can remember I have been dying only to wake up a year later, the same age but in a different place, and every time I will visit my grave to see how I was remembered by those who knew me. And now for the first time in my life I find myself staring down at the first age to take me by old age, this is also the first time I’ve ever had the pleasure of company on a visit.”

“I suppose it’s not the sort of company you expected” said the hooded figure who stood beside me

“No but after all this time it is certainly the sort of company that is welcome”

“Not many people get to visit their own grave.”

[writingpracticeiguess]

It’d been in the garden for at least three days, at least that’s when she’d noticed it. Smaller than expected it tended to curl around the tree that stood near their garden fence, small puffs of grey smoke curling into the sky from it’s long snout. Bright green with gold tints in it’s scales she had been watching everyone walk right past it without so much as a glance, even the man who owned the orphanage didn’t seem to mind, and he didn’t like anything half as weird as this when they did it. She couldn’t understand how no one saw the dragon. That was at least until Beatrice came to stay.

#620

If anyone else in the house had seen the dragon, they weren’t admitting it.

[writingpracticeiguess]

Megan woke up to the endless, crushing beeping that was her alarm. She had bought an alarm for the partially deaf after sleeping through every other alarm she owned, a mistake she was beginning to deeply regret. Slamming down on the nightmare machine she pulled her way out of bed, stumbled down her creaking flight of stairs and for the first time in the five years she’d owned this house, saw the doorway in her kitchen. Her coat rack, which normally stood where the doorway was, sat neatly in front of her fridge, and where her coat rack normally stood, there was a gaping doorway, connected to a beaten wooden door painted in a fading baby blue.

“Hello?” she called down the flight of stairs behind the door

“Um hello” a voice came back, sounding just as confused as she was, the voice sounded male, kind of elderly and definitely British as it echoed up to her.

“Can I please ask what you’re doing in my house” she called down again

“You know it’s awfully funny” the voice came back “I was planning on asking you the exact same thing. Do you live here then?”

“Yes I have” Megan said indignantly “For over five years now”

“Pfft” came the voice “I’ve lived here for three hundred”

Following shortly after the response came a man, wearing a worn tweed suit of purple and blue the man was remarkably short, barely four feet tall with tufts of grey hair sprouting from his head and chin. He came trotting up the stairs with some kind of metal contraption in his hand, a box with a large bronze handle that he turned over and over as he walked past her and sat on the counter.

“That’s ridiculous” Megan protested as she got past her initial shock, “you can’t be three hundred years old”

“I’m not three hundred years old, I’m six hundred years old, but I can’t live in one place my whole life, I’d get bored.”

“Well you can’t live here either. And don’t move my coat rack!”

“Don’t put it in front of my door then”

“I didn’t know the door was there, it’s never even been there before!”

“Nonsense, it’s always been there, it’s just hidden”

“How can you hide that, it’s painted bright blue”

At this the old mans eyes lit up, bright green they sparkled with youth that didn’t fit the man that owned them. He leant forward as a large grin filled with crooked teeth spread almost to his ears.

“Would you like to see” He whispered and as he did the box in his hands began to unfold and a small roar came from within.

#592

You’ve lived in your house for several years, when suddenly you notice a door in your dining room that wasn’t there yesterday.

[writingpracticeiguess]

Officer Grayson part 3

A continuation of this: https://writingpracticeiguess.tumblr.com/post/169939396604/officer-grayson-part-2

Dick is a cop chasing down Red Hood without knowing who he really is.

The Hood stepped forward and shrugged off his beaten jacket, the polished metal of his night reflecting the dim moonlight that lit the harbour. 

“Do you really believe you can take me alone” he growled 

“Oh I have no way of knowing” Dick smiled back “and no time to find out, so I called some backup”

The Hood realised quickly, spinning on his heel just in time to see the gloved fist that crashed against his helmet. Dazed, he stumbled backwards into Nightwing, who stepped in to meet him, kicking aside his knife and rolling him over his hip into the ground. Batman moved quickly in to assist, his boot cracking the Hoods helmet as Dick got to his feet and sent his own kick that bucked off his stomach and left him sprawled across the ground. His helmet too beaten to see through he tore it off with a scream of range and as Dick stepped forward to meet him he saw his partner balk at the sight. The Hood let out a horrible laugh, a mix of triumph and bitterness that raked across the docks. 

“Something wrong Bruce” he hissed “Looks like you’ve seen a ghost”

“Wait Bruce? You know him” Dick shouted turning to accuse his partner behind him when he noticed for the first time ever, Batman looked horrified. His arms hung limp at his sides, seemingly dragging the rest of him down as he stared frantically at the twisted face in front of him.

“Bruce?” Dick probed tentatively 

“Don’t mind him” The Hood said from behind them “he’s just upset he struggled to train a replacement for no reason”

Dick turned to ask what he meant but was interrupted by a fist that rocked his whole head, he felt blood fill his mouth as he hit the concrete and watched with blurred vision as the Hood picked his jacket off the floor and hurried away as the sound of sirens filled the night. Leaving him collapsed at Bruce’s lifeless feet.

“Wait” Bruce managed meekly

“Like you waited for me?” he called over his shoulder “get in my way again old man, and I’ll kill you both”