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IkeVamp Holiday Exchange - Snuggles with sleeping Napoleon!

@yan-ni, here’s your IkeVamp Holiday Exchange gift! I hope you like it! Somehow I ended up implementing the very Christmas idea and it turned out to be quite experimental but I’m quite content with the effect!

(I kind of underestimated the difficulty of this and the colourful light, but I’m glad I managed to finish it in time...)

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Do I even still remember how to draw.

Any simple summertime ideas? I want to try if my markers haven't dried out yet.

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bring back tumblr ask culture let me. bother you with questions and statements

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No one reblogs on tumblr anymore.

No one leaves comments on Ao3 anymore.

Seriously people the lack of fandom interaction these days makes me genuinely depressed, it never used to be like this, makes me wonder what's the point of coming online to do anything anymore.

Reblog a post so other people can see it.

Leave a comment so the author doesn't feel like giving up.

Fandom cannot live on Likes or Kudos alone.

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⚠️ this blog does not support works created by AI software ⚠️

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I miss art.

And I miss the motivation.

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I shall and will reblog it on every active blog I have.

You guys do know you're supposed to reblog things, right

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Moonlight (4/4)

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku Character: Kenshin, Shingen Contents: friendship, magical realism(?), fear of loss, nightmares of death Ao3 link in the source. Consider leaving a comment there, if you liked it! Summary: Woken up by nightmares despite the cosy life with his beloved, Kenshin leaves her side to calm down - without burdening her with the delusions of his mind and the dread of the loss he dreamt. A few deep breaths in the serene night and a few words exchanged with an old friend - such a small thing yet it helps him collect himself enough to go back and fall asleep by his wife’s side again. Yet when your mind is haunted by fears, long is the way and hard. Four nights, separated by time.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

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Kenshin stood in the door of their room in the dead of night, gazing at the moon shining brightly over the walls of Kasugayama, solitary on the cloudless sky. The night was quiet, not a single gust of wind was disturbing the motionless leaves on the moonlit trees. For a moment lost in thoughts, he soon looked back into the room behind him.

At her, curled alone in her futon, face pressed into the soft blanket as she was sleeping quietly, unguarded and unaware of the world around her. The moon shone silver on her hair – and the glow on her face made her otherworldly beautiful. He lingered on the doorstep and took a few steps back to kneel at her bedside. He caressed her cheek gently and pushed a stray wisp of hair behind her ear, admiring her just like he did every living second through all those years.

Even now, she seemed like shining, bright in the moonlight – and bringing light to his life. He had never enough of loving her.

Ah, her blanket was sliding down from her shoulder. He pulled it up and tucked her gently in it, so she doesn’t feel cold without him at her side, albeit he knew it was only a temporary measure. Once more, he brushed his fingers over her cheek and gave it a few more tender strokes.

Then he stood up to exit the room, and casting one more gentle glance at her, he left her behind to stroll into the night.

He wandered slowly through the hallways, just like he used to on those nights full of dread when the moonglow was his only solace in the lingering nightmare. Eventually, he arrived to the garden and stopped, but didn’t sit down to watch the reflection of the moon in the still water.

The perfect mirror of the surface made it seem like there was another moon in the pond, as if it was a gate to another world, with another moon shining bright and pulling his gaze in.

“It’s been a while.”

The words seemed to have come out of nowhere, but he didn’t even look at the man approaching him. He didn’t need to as he would recognise the voice everywhere, even after such a long time.

“Yes,” he replied.

“No nightmares for so long.” Shingen stopped and leaned against a pillar, watching Kenshin with an inquisitive stare. Other than moonlight, there was no silver in his hair and just like moonlight he was on those nights with his quiet presence.

“Long was the way and hard,” Kenshin admitted with a sigh.

Shingen let out a hum in response and followed Kenshin’s gaze to look at the moonlit garden, still and calm without any wind to touch the leaves on the nearby trees. For a while neither of them broke the silence, just like usual on those sleepless nights. It seemed almost as if nothing has changed over the years – the night, the moon, and Shingen were as they’d always been, unchanging.

“Should we sit down?”, he asked with a relaxed smile on his face – still as youthful as Kenshin remembered.

“I’ve got enough rest.”

“Then a walk maybe?” Shingen stepped onto the grass and looked over his shoulder. “We haven’t had a chance to talk recently. Maybe it’s the right time to catch up.”

“Maybe.” Kenshin agreed and followed.

As they strolled towards the pond, for the first time, the night was peaceful, and nothing was unsettling his heart.

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Moonlight (3/4)

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku Character: Kenshin, Shingen Contents: friendship, magical realism(?), fear of loss, nightmares of death Ao3 link in the source. Consider leaving a comment there, if you liked it! Summary: Woken up by nightmares despite the cosy life with his beloved, Kenshin leaves her side to calm down - without burdening her with the delusions of his mind and the dread of the loss he dreamt. A few deep breaths in the serene night and a few words exchanged with an old friend - such a small thing yet it helps him collect himself enough to go back and fall asleep by his wife’s side again. Yet when your mind is haunted by fears, long is the way and hard. Four nights, separated by time.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

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He woke up in the middle of the night, frozen in fear. Deafened by the sound of his heartbeat thundering in his ears, the ice of dread had entrapped his heart. But as he watched her sleeping soundly, wrapped in her own bed hair, the ice slowly melted. He looked at her face – and albeit the darkness was almost deep enough to hide it from him, if he strained his eyes, he could still see her relaxed, unguarded expression. Her sleep was peaceful, without any hint of pain – a truly blissful sight he can never get tired of.

He leaned towards her to rest his head on her shoulder for a moment and listen to her breath – even and calm. Nothing was happening, but Kenshin couldn’t shake off the feeling his dream brought upon him. The cold in his chest might had been gone, but the frostbite remained.

As recent as yesterday, she felt as healthy as usual, no symptoms of early fatigue. There was no drop in her stamina, even going back for years in his memory, she only seemed to be getting stronger, more accustomed to all the work she engrossed herself in. Her self-defence practice has been going like usual, without a hitch as well. Nothing was amiss. There were no sign of death crawling into her body.

Or was there? It could had been sitting silent, hidden somewhere where no one could find it – until it strikes. Like in other people – claimed by illness early, when they should still have long lives to live – but their lives were cut short nonetheless. Not by sword but by the unexpected enemy within. Like hers in his dream, eating her from the inside.

He did not know all the signs – how could he be possibly sure, what symptoms might emerge – and if. And as the years pass and pass – some day she would develop an enemy within. Late or early, it was to happen. It could have been developing even that night. How could have he been so neglectful?

Creeping into his heart again, the frost came back. No matter how he kept reasoning with his mind, it wasn’t listening, it couldn’t be persuaded. She taught him how to fight the fear of preventable possibilities – but how does one fight the fear of looming certainty?

His mind knew it was right, no matter how he tried to calm it. This time it wasn’t going to let go and arguing with it could only let it sweep him with the avalanche of uncontrolled thoughts – in fact, he felt it already approach.

He sat up in his futon and let out a sigh of defeat. After such a long time there were still fears he could not handle.

He collected a blanket he kicked off in his nightmare, wrapped it around his shoulders and walked out to sit in silence and moonlight. In this warm summer night, he was in the hallways again, shivering in his blanket despite the comfortable, soft warmth. Yet it wasn’t enough to defrost the ice that settled in him.

All he could do was to disconnect himself. And so he tried, locking his eyes on the moon, hoping it’d clear his head with its bright light.

Through the sound of cicadas and his own fear ringing in his ears, he did not hear footsteps on the floor.

Shingen leaned against the pillar, as usual as if he appeared out of thin air, but not unexpected.

“Did you miss our talks so much?” He sat down next to Kenshin without bothering to wait for the invitation that would never come anyway.

Kenshin did not grace him with an answer.

He just kept looking at the moon, trying to get consumed by its glow, and in the corner of his eye, he had Shingen’s silhouette, calmly watching the night in the background, dulling the rampant thoughts with quiet, supportive presence.

But even if subdued, the fear was still there and the moonlight wasn’t cleansing it either, and neither was tracing the outlines of trees and buildings with his eyes.

“You seem really restless tonight.” Shingen gave him a knowing look. The hint of concern in his expression rubbed Kenshin the wrong way, but he knew that having company on those sleepless nights was helping him push away his thoughts.

And Shingen was right – that night the thoughts were persistent.

Yet, he didn’t ask Kenshin what was on his mind, what was haunting him so much that he couldn’t sleep again.

“Does death announce itself?” The words felt dry on Kenshin’s lips.

He didn’t look Shingen in the eye, his gaze still locked onto the moonlit garden. And he wasn’t even asking Shingen, who has never given him a clear answer that Kenshin didn’t already know – or was about to realise on his own.

“How heartless of you to ask me that.” Despite this reply, however, Shingen, didn’t seem to really mind. Smiling, even, he came back to Kenshin’s question. “Does it?”

“Have I just never cared before?”

He wasn’t one to pay attention to others around. Until she entered his life, and after that too, he never watched anyone but her. People would come and go – one way or another, and he didn’t give them a thought. He missed so many opportunities to learn the way illness works, how it looks like.

How would she even show, if she was feeling unwell? Would she show? Or maybe she was like a rabbit, hiding the symptoms until she couldn’t anymore? Would she tell him, if she felt the end approaching, Kenshin asked himself.

“I wonder.” Shingen wasn’t looking at him, but rather at the sky, with a serene expression of a man who found peace with the world.

Kenshin couldn’t. His sole presence in the hallway, where he was chased out of his bedroom by a nightmare, was a proof of it. There weren’t many things that could shake him – but loss was one of them.

Maybe this fear was the core of being alive. Maybe and will spend his life horrified of the certainty of loss and will never be free, as long as he lives.

“I wonder what would she say to your fears,” Shingen pondered.

He did not give him an answer, and he couldn’t. But Kenshin found it on his own.

There was no measures against this fear and no overcoming it, when the fate was sealed.

But was there a point of this fear? The fateful day would eventually come for her too, like it did for others, and age would claim her like it would claim him as well. There was no way around it, so the only thing one could do, was to accept it.

He couldn’t.

He just couldn’t.

Do other people just accept it, with peace in their hearts?

Does she accept it, with peace in her heart? He knew she had worries she kept for herself. That could be one of them.

But even if she was feeling the same, she was still smiling, she kept seizing the day and seizing it for him too. And the worst of crimes would be to let the fears spoil it. To ruin her hard work, the hard work she put her heart into.

He could not allow any dream to waste even one second of their time for idle worry – the time they had was meant to be savoured, and only that was right. He ought to give it what it was owed.

Fear was only in the way – and Kenshin did not tolerate anything that tried to interfere in their happiness. That was the true enemy he had to hold off and battle – not struggle with. Even if it couldn’t be slain for good, he was going to push it away, behind the walls of the fortress, where it could only attempt to siege – but it will not get in anymore.

And the fear finally withdrew, released the last bits of his soul from its claws, leaving only an exhausted void.

He was so tired.

He craved her warmth. He needed it.

“Going back already?”

As usual, Shingen could read him before Kenshin even said anything. So he just nodded – partially as confirmation, partially as a goodbye, and stood up.

Back in their bedroom, she was sleeping as soundly as when he left.

He snuggled up against her, nuzzling his face in the crook of her neck. She wiggled in his arms a bit, tickled by his hair, but calmed down soon, oblivious to Kenshin’s nightmare.

As he was falling asleep again, he promised himself to find and bring every possible medical book to Kasugayama. Instead of thinking of what he couldn’t prevent, he had prepare for the upcoming fate – that was something he could do. What is known, is much easier to expect – and mitigate.

His consciousness finally drifted off, this time without dreams.

=> Part 4.

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Back in 2020, when Obey Me! was still a fresh and new game, I had an idea for a small fic series for November angst.

Cemetery Tales were supposed to be a three-part fic focusing on the All Soul's Day and the mysterious man that'd been always visiting the family grave of reader's family, just as mysterious as the distant relative from the generation of their great-grandparents that no one really knew much about save for the fact that their name appeared some day on the stone.

One of those fics that'd take ages to complete, and I still haven't finished polishing the second half of the IkeSen Kenshin fic I started around 2018 despite having never ever hiatused it.

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It's always

"When will fanfic writers update their stories?"

And never

"Does this fanfic writer have adequate enrichment to engage in writing behaviours?"

Fanfiction writers (Scriptor fictus) are intelligent animals who need plenty of enrichment as well as encouragement! If they're stuck in poor conditions (e.g. have studies, work, have to actually write to have something written) then they require the proper enrichment to engage in more healthy behaviours, like writing. Remember, due to poor breeding and socialisation, over half of all fanfic writers suffer from low self confidence and executive dysfunction so take care of them!

Give your fanfic writers proper care. Fanfiction writers are a life long commitment.

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Hmm, Dame Simeon?

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I've seen people do this for Twisted Wonderland and Obey Me!, but I didn't find any for Arcana Twilight, so I made it myself!

Arcana Twilight MC Ask Game:

1. Does your MC know how to use magic? If no, would they like to?

2. How well are they taking being transported to Bound Arlyn?

3. Do they trust Sirius?

4. What's their favourite subject at CAM?

5. What's their least favourite subject?

6. If they joined a clan, which would it be?

7. What's a song that reminds of your MC?

8. Who is your MC dating?

9. Who do they get along with the best?

10. Who do they get along with the worst?

11. If they could bring the boys to Mid Eartheim, where would they bring them first?

12. What's the thing that confused them the most in Bound Arlyn?

13. What's the thing that excited them the most in Bound Arlyn?

14. What's the thing they miss the most from Mid Eartheim?

15. What's their current relationship with Vega?

16. Do they wear the CAM uniform? If so, how (pants, skirt, unbuttoned, etc)?

17. How are their grades?

18. How does your MC spend their time? With who?

19. What's the thing they love the most about Bound Arlyn?

20. Is there anything that scares them in Bound Arlyn?

Feel free to use!

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Let's Get ((REAL)) fic writer asks

✨What's a fic you've posted you wish you could breathe life into again and have people talking about it? (or simply a fic you wish got more credit)

💘Is there any posted fic you want to rework/re-edit/re-write? 💫what is your favorite kind of comment/feedback?

🌈is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with? 🦋what are you most insecure about when you post a fic?

🌻what makes you want to give up on writing? what makes you keep going?

🌿how does creating make you feel? 🍉in what ways has writing helped you process trauma and/or navigate through your own life?

🎀give yourself a compliment about your own writing

🎈describe your style as a writer; is it fixed? does it change? 🎉how often do you celebrate completing & posting a work? how often do you give yourself the credit/validation that you seek from others when you post? (if you don't, you should!)

💞what's the most important part of a story for you? the plot, the characters, the worldbuilding, the technical stuff (grammar etc), the figurative language

💝what is a fic that got a different response than you were expecting? 🤍what's one fic of yours you think people didn't "get"? 🕯️was there a fic that was really hard on you to write, or took you to a place you didn't think it would take you? 💥find your least kudos'd fic - say something wonderful about it. 🍭why did you start writing? 💎why is writing important to you? 📡why is writing and sharing your writing important for fandom?

🪄what is your post-writing/sharing aftercare? How do you take care of yourself or celebrate yourself when you've finished a fic?

🎙��which one of your fics would you like someone to make a pod-fic of? 🤲what do YOU get out of writing? 💋when you leave comments on a fic, do you want to hear back from the writer? ☯️how do you think engaging with each other through tumblr, twitter, comments, kudos, creates healthy fandom experiences? How do you deal with that if you're not a social person/experience social anxiety?

🧿what steps do you take to not take things personally if a fic doesn't do well, or if your writing/posting/sharing experience isn't going how you'd like it to? 💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

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Spica.

Really wanted to draw his hair. Though I admit, I messed up the length so couldn't fit them exactly. Coloured pencils on black paper.

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It might seem counterintuitive but some coloured pencils (those very pigmented and opaque wax based pencils) work best on toned or black paper.

Coloured pencils on white paper are... actually pretty dull. Unremarkable. I don't like working on white paper for that reason - the drawing doesn't have that wow effect. But most of my pencil sets aren't suited for black paper, they're too transparent.

Even Coloursofts have colours that aren't good on black paper. Yellows are notorious for not performing on black paper and not even Coloursofts can help. But The Softest Pencils In The World, Derwent Drawing set, absolutely can. The set though is all earth toned, so no bright yellows there.

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Counting pencils!

Only coloured pencils, no graphite, no charcoal, nothing like that.

First, Derwent with 72 Coloursofts. Second, more Derwent stuff. 20 Metallics and my absolutely beloved Drawing set of 24.

Now more pencils from something else. Koh-i-Noor, surprisingly I don't have many of them considering how big of sets those can have.

Now, things I imported.

Yes, I went all the way to get those pencils here when they're not available.

Deli (72):

Three sets of Castle Art (120+48+48).

Lyra Rembrandt Polycolor, main set of 72 and grey set of 12.

I also got some children's sets just because

a) shiny (10 + 12 + 12)

b) 50 pastel colours, that I heard of first, funny thing, in a British YouTube video.

Giotto Stilnovo, main set of 50 and skintone set of 12:

And lastly, 18 backup pencils:

Those should make...

688 coloured pencils.

Assuming that I can do maths.