#i got this new brush set that’s like oil painting?

[romidoes]

he protec he attac but most importantly he judges

[zephyrchama]

You're in your room in the House of Lamentation, held down by the Avatar of Lust. He's got you secured in place just the way he wants you - back against the bed, face up towards the ceiling, eyes closed for the moment. He sits on your stomach with a brush in hand. Two heavy pouches are on your chest containing everything from basic moisturizer to specialized lip oils in a rainbow of colors.

"Just going to blend this a bit here," Asmodeus murmurs to himself. He adds another layer of eye shadow while returning to his story, recounting the time he watched a Little D try to rob a pastry shop. Absolutely hilarious, it was like a comedy sketch. You feel the gentle yet purposeful dab of the brush tugging at your skin and wonder if Asmodeus can see you blushing under the foundation he applied.

Every couple of minutes, he rakes his nails over your head as if moving hair aside. Powder is sprinkled on your face, making your nose tickle. You twitch and sniffle.

"Ah-ah! Patience!" he chides. The weight on your stomach shifts and the offending dust is blown off by a warm gust of Asmodeus' breath. It smells like berries. The sensation lingers on your mind more than the setting powder.

"Just leave everything to me. Your eyes are done now, so... Part your lips a little?"

His thumb is already on your lower lip, the rest of his fingers cupping your chin. You hear the clinking of glass as he roots around for something in the makeup bag. His pinky finger taps against your neck to the unmistakable rhythm of his favorite song. "That's my dear. Juuust like that."

His story now done, Asmodeus moves on to talking about his plans for the rest of the week. He's expecting a package from a new brand deal that's already been delayed twice and the company refuses to apologize. "Can you believe that?"

Your lips are wet and sticky from a fresh coat of... something artificially sweet. You don't respond, but his question was rhetorical anyway. On a whim, you flutter your eyes open. Asmodeus is leaning over you like a master craftsman lost in the trance of work. He's so close that the ceiling is totally obscured and you can almost make out your reflection in his pupils. It takes until he finishes swabbing something on your philtrum to notice that you're focused his way.

The instant he meets your gaze is obvious. He cracks a stunning smile, his face softens. He sets his tools aside, lining them up next to you. You feel his legs tighten around your ribs and he chokes back a giggle.

"Aah! I can't take this. You're so kissable, but that'd ruin all the work I just did! You're a sinful human, you know that?"

Asmodeus seems to be mulling over something in his head, but the way you smirk in response sends him over the edge. His lips are meeting yours. His palm hoists up the back of your head so he can make more skin contact without smearing your cheeks. The bags in his way prevent him from going overboard, but there's pressure on your chest as he pushes down to see just how far he can go.

With a final "mmph," he pulls away so you can breathe again, taking pleasure in the way your body moves to gasp down air. You wonder exactly what he's painting on your face, as his lips are a bright pink reminiscent of his sin color.

"There! Now we match."

[master-of-the-game]

Young Garak in the Obsidian Order Oil on canvas, 30x40 cm This is an oil copy of a fragment of a larger digital painting, I'll post the whole picture a little bit later.

Ok everyone! I'm still here. Since August I think I had something like an artblock, which resulted in trying new techniques and I realized that for now I've got a bit tired of digital art. Thus, oil... I've never tried it before and you can imagine how surprised I was when it came out that my digital brushes were set very very similar to real oil technique. It all means that now I'm here with oil. I might be posting with a bit losses in frequency, cause traditional painting takes more time, and it also doesn't mean that there will be no digital art. There will be. Bonus details

[envy-of-the-apple]

the jjk naga au is getting to me……..i fear im terminally ill with thoughts about it (seriously, top of the food chain is such a yummy series (?) and im soso obsessed with how you've written gojo’s and geto’s characters, i reread your works everyday, i just can't get enough! ^^)

and i hope you don't mind if i share a Thought i've had :3 (i was going for an mc who used to draw/sketch/make art just for this specific scenario)

Imagine that your time on the island's barely dragging on. There's only so many berries to pick and so many times you can braid Suguru’s hair into elaborate styles. You're bored, stranded on an island with these two naga captors and their (adorable) hatchlings.

Well, there's always playing with the hatchlings, or tussling with Satoru (he calls it playtime but you're far from amused when you get a faceful of sand when he tugs your legs out from under you) but you miss your alone time. That little bubble of yours. Ah, privacy. 

Like that'd happen, but you can dream.

It's a stroke of chance when Nobara comes to you with her new haul of human paraphernalia, all too excitedly. A leather satchel. Some printed photos of nameless faces with scenic backgrounds. A waterlogged cell phone, practically unsalvageable. A journal with pages so thoroughly soaked, it falls apart in wet clumps.

“What are these?” You can hear her rummage through the bag, her nose wrinkling slightly. “Smells weird.” And so you look over to see her glaring down at a (relatively new) set of oil paints, sealed away in the bag. It's likely that she picked up on the scent of the strange chemicals.

Your eyes are bright with hope as you gently pull it out of her hold. Ready to answer her million and one questions.

…

After all this time that you've thought of what you'd wished to be able to do, you're at a loss. You've got a wall to the cave to yourself, a set of oil paints and a makeshift brush from the wood of this one particular tree off the side of the island. The only thing you're missing right now is inspiration.

A muse.

Satoru and Suguru are snoozing. Peaceful and laid in each other's arms. you can appreciate the quiet to yourself.

You hear familiar shrieks and playful yells of the hatchlings' name. 

The slight bit of quiet, then.

Nobara and Yuji are wrestling in the water, arguing over something in a mix of clicks and curse words. The sight is an endearing one, but moving too quick.

So you do some searching inward.

And you paint what comes to mind. What you've felt this whole time.

…

“What's that?” Ever the curious one, Nobara rests her head on your shoulder to peer over at your artwork in progress. She doesn't understand any of it—and she wouldn't. Your human upbringing is leagues different from hers.

“... Home.” You murmur, and Nobara’s glancing up at you in wonder because of the way your eyes glisten, the way your hand lingers over to paint in a fine detail.

“Well, it was my home.” You smile back at her, and she's at ease. You're not sad—no, she'd make it everybody's problem if you were—and then she makes sure to know everything about the scene you've drawn.

“What's that?” She gestures. Careful not to smudge the paint off, index outstretched to a figure she doesn't recognise.

“That's a lamp. When it gets dark, we switch it on so there's light. Like the torches in the cave, you see?”

“Torch? Hmm… and that?”

It seems that talking about your old home brings a warmth to your voice. Nobara beams up at you all giddy as you explain, eager to learn more. Eventually Yuji slinks over to listen as well, more so to the sound of your voice than what you're saying.

You sound happy, the pair can tell. Like when you taste a berry sweeter than the others, or when you tell them stories of your own to lull them to sleep. They like the chime of joy in your voice, and neither stops you from rambling about your once-home. 

It's a moment of peace. and warmth.

Yet it shatters for you when you feel a strong muscled tail coil around your waist, that familiar sense of having your space invaded taking over. A very intrigued Satoru looms over you, eyes glinting as he takes in the sight. You know that something's off—he seems more punishing with how tight he holds you.

“Home, huh?” Satoru repeats, and even the hatchlings can tell that's their cue to leave. Nobara offers you a lingering glance, almost pouty before she slithers away, following after her brother.

…

The next early morning, you find your home gone. 

In a sense, it's a bitter joke to be played on you. Not only were you never going to be back at your own place, even the expression of the idea was taken away from you. Just like your freedom was. your choice. The wall of the cave was bare, not a hint of the paint or the sentiment lingering behind. As if someone hit a total reset. Paints nowhere to be found, your canvas scrubbed clean.

Suguru stretches out from behind you, one of the first few to wake up, wrapping you in a lazy hug, before he follows your gaze. You'd call the soft laugh that rumbles in his chest cruel. Mocking your homesickness in that loving way only he could manage.

“Must've rained last night.” He comments at the absence of your artwork, and you wish you could pinpoint at least an inch or sarcasm in his words. You nod quietly, and he draws you in closer.

Cold lips brush against your temple. 

“The only home you need is with us.”

The sand under your feet is drier than your throat.

(oh my god im sorry if i rambled too much, i hope its not annoying ^^;;)

jaw dropping. amazing. wHAT????

I love how anon made Nobara's characterization so much sweeter and innocent. Though it's probably cuz she's younger in this fic...considering she can still stay on land. And satosugu not even wanting you to THINK of your old home is so accurate. I feel the more they learn your language, the more eager they'll be to display ownership.

Anyway thx anon for making the fourth part! from now on if anyone wants an addition to the naga series turn to the anons not me.

[florencemtrash]

Flame, Shadow, Beast : Beast II

Azriel x Reader x Eris

Summary: Years after Eris frees you from his father’s prison, you’ve managed to find a new love, new friends, and build a life for yourself in Autumn. But when a certain Shadowsinger stumbles upon your home, dragging in painful memories of betrayal and longing, you’ll have to face the things you left in the past and make choices about the future you want.

Warnings: Angst and allusions to torture and death.

Flame, Shadow, Beast: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

You sat on Eris’s bed, your gorgeous dress crumbled beside you with the crown resting on top of the heap. It silently mocked you as you wrapped his robe closer around your body, burying your face in his scent. You shut your eyes and looked away from the door where Bryaxis was currently pacing on the other side.

Eris, Halvor, and Aurelia had been gone for two hours. Locked away in his official chambers discussing the matter of your bond with Azriel. 

“My Lady-” 

“Don’t call me that, Myrah.” The blademaiden had similarly tossed aside her glittering gown of silk and metal, choosing instead thin armor of bronze and soft leather. It was better suited for her slick style of fighting. She didn’t say anything as she climbed onto the sheets behind you and began to brush the tangles out of your damp hair.

“He won’t send you away.” She finally said after your hair had been brushed, oiled, and braided.

The bond fluttered as if in disappointment. You shoved it deeper, willing it to disappear entirely. 

“He may not have a choice.” 

Autumn couldn’t risk another war. Prythian couldn’t risk another war. But if Azriel dared to invoke the Blood Duel, no matter the outcome more blood would be shed.

No, he wouldn’t do that. You thought to yourself. Would he?

You’d heard of males doing worse things for less and Azriel was no male to be trifled with. And… He was in pain. 

As much as you tried to ignore it, and as much as he tried to shield you from it, Azriel was hurting. You felt muted waves of it through the bond like washes of tide against the shoreline.

If only you hadn’t chosen tonight to wear the crown or the dress or to subtly declare yourself the future Lady of Autumn. If only you’d had them leave sooner or… maybe this had all been a mistake. Maybe all the time you’d spent in Autumn had been a mistake, even if you were happy. Maybe… 

You looked around the room. The bedposts soared into the sky, disappearing into a ceiling that had been painted to look like the forest canopy. Colors of the sunset swirled down like wind. The roaring fire spread its molten heat across the warm wood furniture. Everyone spoke of the cruel beauty of the Forest House, its opulence and the disloyalty it housed within amber-encrusted walls. But you had only ever felt safe here. You’d fallen in love with all its old-fashioned peculiarities and the tales that had written themselves into the wood without anyone ever knowing. 

There in the corner was a dresser with burned handprints crawling up the sides- courtesy of Eris sneaking into the room to visit his mother after he’d just learned to walk. There above the vanity were two magnificent elk horns, altered to look like wings in flight. Lucien had found them shed by the river when Eris had first taken him hunting. Little trinkets you’d bought for him littered the room alongside the additions Myrah, Halvor, and Aurelia had gifted him over the years. Your own belongings filled the spaces previously left cold and empty, just like you spent most nights filling the empty spaces in his bed.

You set your jaw.

“Myrah,” She looked at you with wide eyes, “I think it’s time I got dressed.” 

“Eris specifically said not to let you out of his room. It could be dangerous.” Myrah said with a half-concealed smirk, walking beside you as you made your way towards Eris’s office. 

The Forest House was impenetrable… but a Shadowsinger could get into places others couldn’t. You felt the bond within you, daring to follow the string to wherever Azriel lay on the other side. The smallest tug and Azriel was stirring. You pulled away almost immediately. He wasn’t anywhere near the Forest House.

“He also said you were to be my blademaiden. Remind me of what that entails.” You said, refusing to slow down.

“To protect you with my life. To follow your orders… To care for you as my best friend.” 

You blinked and shot her a look. “The last part isn’t in your oath.”

She shrugged, “It’s not in my oath as a blademaiden… doesn’t mean I don’t have personal oaths I adhere to.” 

You squeezed her hand and she squeezed back harder.

Whatever conversations had been going on when you burst through the door died immediately. Halvor and Samson - third in command and Autumn’s spymaster - bowed when you entered, looking like a storm on a mission to render the room to splinters. Aurelia dipped her head, eyes shifting between Eris and you with a hint of sadness. It shaved away at your confidence.

“I need to speak with Eris. May we have the room?” You said, phrasing it more as a command and less of a question. 

Halvor nodded, making his way out with Samson and Myrah in tow. Aurelia lingered behind, squeezing Eris’s shoulder before waltzing out.

“What have you been discussing?” You said once the door had shut and you felt Eris’s magic wall up the sound in the room.

“I think you already know.” Eris said, standing up behind his desk and rubbing away the pressure building behind his eyes. He still wore his clothes from dinner and although he’d taken off his crown, a greater weight seemed to have fallen onto his shoulders. 

Eris swallowed. He had a letter crumpled up in his hand, half-written and blotted with ink spills. It began to smolder and burn.

“We weren’t sure-I wasn’t sure…” his voice trailed off, “I wasn’t sure if you’d already made up your mind.”

“About?” “About going to him. About being with him.” The words sounded strangled, like they were beasts that had fought against being spoken out loud. “He is your mate.”

“I don’t care.” 

Eris closed his eyes, “Y/n, I’m not-” “I said I don’t care.” 

He refused to look into your eyes, hands splaying out on the table as he fought back the fear in his chest. He didn’t want you to go. He’d given more of himself to you than he’d ever dared to before, and you had protected that trust with a fierceness he’d never seen. But this was something wholly out of his control. Something that had been dictated by the Mother. Who was he to stand between you and your mate? “What if… If you choose me, what if you come to regret it? What if I can’t give you what a mating bond can?” He said softly, as if he’d already given up on the hope that you’d stay. It lit a fire in your soul.

“I don’t care what the powers-that-be say about us.” You said, storming around the desk, “I don’t care if some force decided I am his equal or that we would make strong children together.” 

The bond was a sacred thing, more precious than anything land, gold, or blood could buy. But it was no guarantee of happiness. No guarantee of love. You would know, because you’d already found your happiness and love elsewhere.

You rushed forward, taking Eris’s face in your hands and feeling immediate relief when he didn’t move away. He leaned into your touch, turning his head to kiss the palms of your hands with reverence.

“I choose you, Eris. This hasn’t changed anything. Not for me.” You said with conviction.

“It hasn’t changed anything for me either.” Eris sighed in relief and touched his forehead against yours, your breaths mixing sweetly in the space between you two. 

“I would choose you.” He whispered fiercely, “Every. Single. Time. I would go to war for you, my love. Come hell or high water.” 

“I know,” You smiled, gently kissing on the lips and sighing when his warm hands traveled up the skin of your back, holding you to him, “I would do the same for you. But let us hope it doesn’t come to that.” 

Eris showed you the letter, the corners singed and flaking, and you smoothed it out on the mahogany table. Rhysand had been quick to request another meeting. Tension and worry were scratched into the curves of his flowery handwriting as he explained the situation in diplomatic terms: 

He was sorry for not attending the dinner. The Inner Circle had been unaware of the mating bond until it was too late. Azriel would behave himself and only come if called. The decision was yours. Whatever you chose, they wanted to continue being Autumn’s allies for the good of Prythian and to have you in their lives as friends, not enemies. It was delicate. Hopeful. A letter from someone who wanted peace as much as you did. Peace for his family. Peace for his son. 

The letter placed you in a position where you could wait for the tidal wave to settle. But just like the last time, this was not an issue you could ignore forever. An ax would always linger over your head, swaying dangerously close to your neck until you spoke with Azriel. So although you didn’t agree to another visit with the Inner Circle, you did allow Azriel to come to Autumn again.

You stood by the border, whispers of frost bitten wind snaking through the white gaps in the trees and reaching for your ankles. 

Samson and twelve of his best males and females stood behind you, archers at the ready and swordsmen with their hands gripping their hilts. They were more for Eris’s comfort than your own, and you would have your privacy when it mattered most.

Azriel emerged from the blizzard beyond like an ink stain on porcelain paper, bleeding into existence with his shadows swarming around him. He hadn’t been sleeping - you could tell from the faint bruises beneath his eyes. Somehow the imperfection made him more handsome, more mysterious. But you hadn’t had eyes for him in a long time.

“Come on.” You said, tilting your head towards the river that rushed and danced in the distance. You walked in silence, Azriel trailing behind like the shadow that he was and matching your shorter footsteps. He didn’t want to alarm you by overtaking you. Still, it was even more unnerving to know he was behind you without hearing or seeing him. You could only feel that bond tying you together, pulling you towards the male who walked ten paces behind.

You glanced back and he stopped, teeth clenching tightly as he looked at you. You were beautiful, shining in the burning forest like a flame. You’d always been beautiful and he had known this, but he hadn’t fully recognized it until it was far, far too late.

“Will you be slinking behind me the whole time like a kicked dog or will you walk beside me?” There was a biting humor in your voice that eased the tension in his shoulders. He walked beside you until you finally led him to the river. Any concerns that he might take this opportunity to survey the Autumn Court disappeared. He had his eyes on you the entire time like you were the only thing left in the world.

You sat down on the slick rock, dipping your bare feet into one of the clear streams that branched off from the river beyond, tumbling over boulders and stones with crisp clarity. Azriel took the cue to lower to the ground as well, his knee barely brushing against yours as he settled his magnificent wings on the cool stone.

“I’m sorry about Elain.” You said after a while of staring at the water. 

Azriel winced.

Maybe it was the wrong thing to say. It was no secret that five years after the Autumn Court war ended, Elain had quietly moved to the Sun Palace and mated Lucien. You’d met her briefly when he’d visited Eris, and as much as you wished you could resent her, she’d been lovely and kind, and kept good on her promise not to say anything about you to her family. You understood why Azriel had loved her… why he’d chosen her.

“I didn’t… I didn’t continue things with her after you were gone.” He said, choosing his words with care. His voice was rougher than usual, the sound rumbling out from his chest like the rolling of thunder. “It never felt right… I never felt right. I suppose I understand why now.”

He looked at you hopefully, hazel eyes wide and uncertain as he gently sent his thoughts down the bond. You shivered, feeling echoes of his love and longing for you along with the shame and guilt that accompanied it. 

He hated himself for the decisions he’d made. He had thought that Elain was meant for him - three sisters for three brothers. It seemed so simple, so obvious. So with each year that the mating bond hadn’t fallen into place, dark voices had whispered in his mind that he wasn’t truly a member of his family. Always an outsider. Always alone. It was why he’d traded you for Elain. A choice born out of a desperate desire to be loved and accepted. It was the worst mistake he had made in his life. 

“Azriel. I can’t.” You said, shaking your head and breaking eye contact.

“Can’t, or won’t.” He hadn’t touched you yet, but you saw his scarred hands flex out of the corner of his eyes, inching ever closer to where yours rested in your lap.

“Both.” 

You thought back to the first days you’d spent in the caves: Your wounds fresh and bleeding, the itching and pulsing of your burned flesh somehow getting worse as they healed, the desperation that came from existing in complete and total darkness. The only sounds you’d heard being the crunch and moans of the other poor souls that Beron sent down. 

It still hurt to think about and you didn’t believe it would ever go away.

“I learned something the day you left me.” 

“Y/n. Please-” He whispered, begging. His hands reached out for yours, and you let him.

You smiled sadly, tracing the scars that marred his hands. All the terrible past things that still clung to him. Things he could never forget. 

“Please.” He didn’t even know what he was begging for. He knew he didn’t deserve your forgiveness. He didn’t deserve the right to call you his mate. But… he could hope.

You traced over the scars once more, then let go of his hands.

“I learned I was never part of your family. Not truly. I was the one you were willing to sacrifice, not the one you’d burn down the world for.” 

Azriel swallowed thickly, pulling back on the shadows that had escaped his control and had begun to curl around your arms and your legs. 

He shook his head, “That’s not true. You have always been a part of this family. You will always be a part of this family.” 

You stayed silent.

“Is there… is there any chance at all for me to fix this?” Azriel asked. His hands now rested in between his knees, clasped so tightly together the pale skin of his scars blended into nothing. “To convince you to come back.” 

“No. No, I don’t think so.” 

He closed his eyes and deflated. A tear streaked down his cheek, dripping onto his lap. 

“I won’t leave him, Azriel. I won’t. Not for anyone. Not even for you.” “I know.” He whispered.

“I don’t… I don’t hate you. I never did. And I’m glad that Elain is alright. It probably was the right decision to make. I don’t know if Beron would have let Elain live. Not even as his prisoner.”

“Don’t say that. Don’t say that just to spare my feelings or to try and make things better.” 

“That’s not why I’m saying it.” 

Azriel stood up, furiously wiping away his tears and burying the feelings deep. He buried the bond even deeper and for the first time since the bond had snapped into place for you, you felt silence. 

You looked at him sadly. He hadn’t changed since the last time you saw him. He still loved deeply and hurt deeply too. 

You stood by his side, watched the river wind its way through the woods.

“It’s a beautiful place.” Azriel said softly, “I can see why you love it. And I… I understand why you love him. I do. I just wish it was me.” He swallowed thickly.

“You’ll find someone else, Azriel. I know you will.” You said, offering him a small, sad smile. 

He didn’t return it. Just looked at you for as long as he could, drinking in the sight of you. 

The next time he saw you he’d be calling you High Lady of Autumn. You’d be bound to this place and its magic, and he would never see you like this again. Gone were the days when you’d collapse on his office couch, chatting his ear off to help him forget the terrible things he’d done, or the days where you’d perch by the window in silence just to remind him he wasn’t alone. Gone were the nights where he’d gather you in his arms and shoot off into the sky to count the stars and find peace. He wanted those days back. He would have done anything to get those days back.

“No. I won’t.” Azriel said quietly and then said nothing more.

You took the cue and led him through the woods, tracing a path between the trees no one from outside the Autumn Court would be able to recognize. 

Samson bowed when you reached him, signaling his warriors to fall back. You would have your privacy.

When Azriel stepped over the threshold back into the Winter Court, you felt the magic in the air change, sealing the Shadowsinger out of your home. He pressed his hand against it, momentary panic freezing his lungs as he saw that you remained on the other side. 

You breathed in deeply, steeling yourself for the words you were about to speak.

“Azriel, I will say this once, and only once. If you so much as lay a finger on Eris or my home, I will never forgive you. I won’t hesitate to protect what’s mine.” 

“I know.” He said. The small smile he gave was full of heartache. He wished he’d done so many things differently, then maybe he would have been so lucky to hear you threaten someone to protect him. It was a terrible fate to be on this side of things.

“If… if anything happens - anything at all - know that I will always be here to help you. Promise me that you know.” “I know.” You said sadly. “I hope you find someone, Az. I really do. But that person will not be me.” 

He nodded. 

You didn’t look away, not as he held up both hands and pressed his forehead against the barrier. It was his own silent way of saying goodbye. Then, just as he had appeared, his shadows swallowed him whole, carrying him away to the Night Court where you hoped he would find a life that would make him forget all about this pain.

“Goodbye, Az.” You whispered.

But he was already gone.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

Might write some Azriel x Reader oneshots to make myself feel better after wrecking my own heart.

Sorry for this chapter, everyone. But Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate. Lol.

Love,

Florence B.

Taglist: @nightless @mmb-09 @thesnugglingduck @cleverzonkwombatsludge @kemillyfreitas @logankemaek @the-sweet-psycho @a-frog-with-a-laptop @flameandshadowx @applerubyy @esposadomd @imma-too-many-fandoms @bubybubsters @kalulakunundrum @chasing-autumns-chill @brujitafantomatico @emptyporsche @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @saltedcoffeescotch @djdjdhdheh

[foervraengd]

Soooooo i got the 2.0 update of clip studio paint so i wanted to try out some of its new features.

One of them is the customizable 3d head model. It’s pretty good but you will have more freedom in the sims 4, i sort of wished there was a randomizer button because that would be a really fun drawing challenge. You cant really make a more fat head with double chins etc, the different sets all have that slim chiseled anime jawline. And some presets like the chibi face or anime face adds some limits to how much you can change the nose. Not perfect but tbh i still think this is a great feature that will help artists to try out new face shapes.

The other new feature i tried out here is the “perceptual mixing” option in the ink tab in brush settings. It essentially makes you blend and mix colors like in Rebelle 5, it imitates the way real pigments behave. This isnt gonna make your colors any better than before, but it will make it easier to follow traditional oil paint tutorials to practice your color theory skills using limited palettes. One such palette is the “Zorn” palette - its the four colors shown in the bottom two screenshots here. We all know that mixing pure black and white is prone to create dull washed out colors. But if you have some skill you can still balance it out, with the new color mixing mode this is now a tad easier. It will make blending for example black and red into a more rich brown shade. The final painting have no post-touch ups etc. I only used these four colors and colorpicked the mixed shades in between them. This was so much fun.

[anticmiscellaney]

as an aspiring comic artist looking to move from graphite and oil painting to more ink/inkwash/watercolor like you- could you explain your process a bit? any tips for beginners? i love your art and you're at the top of my inspiration list right now :,)

Thank you! I've been using ink and watercolour for a long time, and ink/inkwash is definitely my favourite medium. A key tip for getting started would be to know the different kinds of ink available because they all work differently. The three main ones are:

Dye-based ink - these have their uses, but they are not lightfast at all (fade quickly) and they act kinda weird. The colours are very vibrant, but they tend to dry very fast, not be waterproof (tricky for layering), and stain the paper. I use very few dye-based inks. Some ink brands look like they have a big colour range, but when you look at the boxes half of them say "dye based" - don't buy Higgins those.

Acrylic ink - think of this as very liquid acrylic paint. There are a lot of fancy options, many specialty kinds (metallics, pearls, neons), but they aren't going to give you the transparent inkwash look. It's good for drawing opaque lines over colour, and you can dilute it with water for a wash, but it gets chalky. Waterproof may vary (test it first), and it usually has a matte finish. White acrylic ink is well worth having as you can detail over solid black or tint it with coloured pigmented inks, and god knows I love using neons, but I treat acrylic ink like "effects" ink. It’s not my main drawing ink. Daler Rowney is good and widely available (pigment-based is not the same as pigmented ink, this is still acrylic ink), they have a few lines at different prices. Liquitex is decent.

Pigmented/India ink - this is my favourite kind of ink and probably what you want! Pigmented ink dilutes well (it’s a transparent medium like watercolour) and often has a glossier finish depending on shellac content, and it will say on the bottle if it’s waterproof (test that first). It’s good for brush or nib, good for layering, works nicely with watercolour and other types of ink, can be mixed to make new colours/tints...she’s got it all. If you’re in Australia, Art Spectrum is great, I stock up every time I’m back there. If you’re elsewhere, I recommend Speedball for black ink (Blick Black Cat in the US is good). Dr Martins Bombay India Ink has great colours and they’re usually affordable.

There are many brands and everyone has their preferences, and over time you will find your own. I have a mix of different types and brands, though probably fewer than you’d think. Get a small bottle in one or two colours and play around, see if you like it before investing in a set. Don’t buy fountain pen ink or Rapidograph ink for nib/brush, those are best suited to being used in specific types of pens.

The nibs I use are Hunt #512s. #102s (called crow quills) are popular and I like them too, but they are very sharp and will rip up your paper, and can be a little too flexible and hard to control. The #512 is a good all-rounder with a smooth line capable of variation, and I think they’re a solid choice for a beginner. These nibs and holders are cheap and widely available. I don’t buy expensive watercolour brushes because ink will wreck them a lot faster than watercolour will. What you want to look for is the fibers holding a point - the brush should not have bedhead.

My only real advice to someone looking to try watercolours is to not buy the cheapest shittiest kind. You know from oil painting that all paints are not created equal and bad paint is going to frustrate you, especially when you’re starting out. I started with one of these twelve years ago and I still use it in conjunction with other sets I’ve built myself, I just refill the pans from (better quality) tubes when they get low. They last a long time. So do bottles of ink.

I’d like to do a process post, but I’m not sure what would be interesting or helpful to you, and I use ink/watercolour/gouache in a lot of different ways. If there’s a specific piece you liked the look of, I’m happy to demonstrate that method, or I can just go through my favourite approach.

As for comics...the best advice I can give you is pretty general.

Anatomy is a rewarding life-long study, but what really counts for narrative art, over technical accuracy, is GESTURE, EXPRESSION, and BODY LANGUAGE. Look at people. Look at how they move, look at their faces, look at their hands, listen to how they talk. In comics, you are the director and the actors.

Environments are a bonus character in your story and can add a lot of depth and atmosphere! Understanding perspective will make using them a lot easier.

Do not start with your graphic novel idea, start with a short story (under eight pages) and finish it. Finish it. Fucking finish it. Then do some more, getting longer over time. The best idea you never do is worth less to your progress than the worst finished piece.

There aren’t a lot of books that dig into the nuts and bolts of sequential storytelling for artists in a way I like. Filmmaking books are handy, but they’re dealing in moving images and don’t have to worry about page design. There are some good “how to make comics” books (the two Will Esiner did are my favourites), but as a genre it can be very hit or miss. I always look at what the writer/artist has made to see if I want to listen to their instructions - if you hate their art and think the graphic novel they made sucks, don’t buy their how-to book.

Bob McLeod, one of my teachers, gave us all this list:

These rules aren’t inflexible, but they cover the big issues.

For actual storytelling advice, the best one I have read was Directing The Story by Francis Glebas. It’s aimed at storyboard artists, which I was, but it discusses visual storytelling and explains how to approach it and the reasoning behind choices in a way that is useful for anyone making sequential art.

[asherloki]

The early present

Sherlock x reader

Fluff!

Part 1 of the Christmas story series. Part 2!

"oh" I said with utter disgust, "another article on you" I turned the page to my husband so he can see it too, yet he didn't, he was drowned in his microscope, "Sherlock Holmes was seen at Sussex the other day" I read "at night, what is he upto? does his wife know about it?" The media has always been a struggle since I was seen with Sherlock. I have read many headlines about me 'Mr Holmes walking with a common girl?', 'The detective liked someone who's rather dumb compared to him?' and those hurted me like hell, yet my man is there, always, to kiss my forehead and say, "their words shouldn't ever affect you".

I kept the newspaper aside and both him and I rolled our eyes, "next time tell them you're buying a house there, with bees" I said rather sternly.

He's always wanted a house and to keep bees after his retirement, and that's why he went there to look for a good place. I don't doubt my husband because the hezy picture of him here shows he's holding his phone camera to his face, and he was video calling me at that moment.

"they don't have to know everything and besides, they have no right to know about me buying a house or a mansion or even a hut" he replied not lifting his head from his beloved microscope.

"still" I said and out of the blue I felt a little... gloomy. Not really out of the blue, the articles are enough.

"what's wrong?" he asked this time, looking at me with concern.

"I trust you honey" I answered, "but these news... they upsets me".

He didn't say anything, just stared at me for a few seconds and then he inhaled a deep breath and said "how about we go Christmas shopping" he got up leaving the microscope and stuffs as it is putting off his dressing gown.

"like now?" I asked, mostly trying to tell him 'I am not neatly dressed, but he never cared.

"yes now, come on get up" he wore his coat and urged me to wear mine too. I wore my coat which basically covered my tshirt, and my pants were just fine.

We went out and walked aimlessly, I didn't ask him where are we going for shopping or anything, I like our sweet silence, both him and I aren't fond of much crowd, so we liked this late hours shopping, when only a few shops were open.

"what are we getting for Rosie?" he enquired, breaking the silence.

"colours? I saw some of her colors were almost done" I replied, her set of oil pastels needed an immediate alternative.

"okay let's get into this shop then" we got into a stationary shop, and started looking for the best colors. We searched every section for the biggest set of colours, Sherlock only prefers the best for Rosie.

After getting the bestest set of oil pastels we went to the counter. Standing in the small queue I looked outside, "snow" I whispered to Sherlock, it was snowing a bit outside. Sherlock indicated me that I can go and watch the snow fall, while he stands and buys it. So I did, I stood at the doorway, leaving enough space for people to come and go and watched the snow.

"well" my husband's voice was heard coming towards me, "looks like we may need an umbrella" as he stood beside me.

"hmmm, and we forgot to carry one" I said then turned to him, he smiled in return before giving me a paperbag with something heavy in it.

"for you" he said while handing it to me.

"what's this?" I took it and to my surprise he bought me the most beautiful and professional set of paint brushes and colors, "oh my love, this - oh gosh!" I knew not what to say, thanks would be an understatement, "you didn't have to spent so much on me".

He rolled his eyes at this, saying, "I think I'm your husband, so why can't I?" well he's right, "you were upset, paints will lift your mood".

He remembered it didn't he. I nodded, admiring the gifts, " my world is rather small Sherlock, so the articles hurts me".

"I know" he said, "you know better to believe the article anyway" he winked , he winked just like the time when we were dating.

"awww" we were startled at the sound, everyone from the store said "aww" together, we looked at them, confused.

"you two have to kiss" they said, looking up we realised we stood under a mistletoe. I stared at Sherlock with a smile and so did he,

"may I my wife?" he asked.

"absolutely my husband" with mutual agreement our lips found eachother's, I always get on ny toes to kiss my tall man, his hand cupped my face as we kissed for a minute while the small amount of people stared at us. After pulling away we smiled at them.

"let's get going?" I enquired.

"yes, otherwise we'll have to buy an umbrella too" he replied and we paced fast to our flat, with colors we got. 23rd December, winter and Christmas eve the next day, enough to make the world joyous.

[blazingstar24]

*cough cough* Uhhhhhh lol here’s the Ludinus fic no one asked for but me. And yeah u know it’s RQ is Lud’s mother theory truther time up in this house all the time:

******************************************************

The Moon of Ill Omen was high in the sky and the beautiful borealis of ley lines painted new paths. Everyone else was celebrating the solstice, but Ludinus stood beneath the town, staring at the crystal. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a raven flutter down. He smiled but did not turn to greet it. Of course only now she would come.

“You cannot stop me. Did you honestly expect me of all people to be hindered by you and your brethren’s obfuscation of knowledge?” he murmured.

The raven cawed softly but her voice was clear in his mind.

“You do not know what you are doing, the path you are heading down. Stop this.

Ludinus scoffed. “Any path away from your weave is preferable.”

The raven peaked at his hand, drawing blood. He let it run down his hand, no longer red but an odd almost oil like iridescent sheen to it.

“Look at what you’ve become. Cease this tantrum, you still have yet to choose where this all ends.”

“Do I? I believe that matter currently still lies in your hands.”

Ludinus wiped away the blood onto his robes and gestured to the crystal. He smiled, a vicious sight. His eyes still not meeting the raven’s directly.

“Let us be honest with each other for once. This little house call is nothing but a farce. What you call a tantrum, I call liberation. You’re afraid that I’m about to break free from your chains.“

He opened his mouth to say more but then felt a sharp tugging in his chest. It took his breath away and nearly sent him to his knees. The raven’s eyes were glowing gold and all the shadows in the room began to grow larger. A golden thread spilled out from his chest and again that sharp tugging sensation rippled through him. Ludinus let out a small hiss and snarled at the bird.

“Silence, child! You know nothing of this world, much less the truth of it.”

“And whose fault is that?” he growled, dropping to his knees from the pain.

The raven looked sadly down at the thread still spooling out of the elf’s chest. He glared at the bird, pushing down the flutter of anxiety. She wouldn’t dare kill him. A small traitorous part of his mind wanted her to, if only to know her touch again.

“I should have never let this get so long. It would be a mercy to kill you now.”

“Then cut it.”

The raven sighed. A sound a normal bird should not have been able to make.

“No. Your path is set. You have woven yourself into the tapestry of Exandria. To cull you now may unravel the entire thing.”

The raven flapped its wings and a feather landed on the thread still spooling. A rush of warmth flooded him and a long sealed memory unlocked in his mind. Ludinus growled, but it came out more like a whine.

“Get out of my head.” he said, voice wobbling more than he would have liked.

“He will not be any better than I was. And for that I am sorry.”

The raven disappeared into the shadows and the thread dissolved. Ludinus shakily got to his feet and stepped towards the crystal. He placed his hands on it and channeled his arcana.

“You will be.”

****

Gelvaan was quite a quaint town, but there was a subtle beauty to it. Liliana had wanted to see her home one last time and Ludinus was more than willing to give her this. It was a wish they shared. He waited patiently upon as a hill as he watched her invisibly walk through the town, through the fields, and down to the stables where a purple haired teen brushed the horses.

This was no surprise to him, she had confided to him about her daughter. Still an uncomfortable feeling squirmed inside his chest as he watched Liliana stand just outside of the stable doors, silently watching over her child.

A bird cried out and he tensed, but didn’t turn around. He didn’t need to.

“Your days are numbered.” he said, no emotion, just matter of fact. But his hand was tightly clenched around his staff.

“We shall see. You should let her go.” the raven said, equally calm.

“She’s made her choice and I will make her sacrifice worth it.”

“And if I said I felt the same?”

Ludinus’s grip tightened. “It doesn’t matter now. Your death is drawing near.”

The raven laughed. “A little elfling I knew once claimed nothing was worth losing what you are asking of her.”

“Well that child no longer exist, does he now?”

“I’m not so sure.”

The wind grew cold. His gaze didn’t leave Liliana’s visage. The purple haired woman was trailing behind her daughter who was taking the horses out to the fields. He watched as the girl tripped over a root and stumbled. Liliana moved to catch her but then stopped herself. The girl dusted herself off and laughed to herself, brushing the mane of the startled horse. Liliana drew away and met his gaze.

“Let her go.”

Ludinus chuckled softly. “Would you have gone back? Or are we both to live vicariously through her?”

“She has a choice and you are taking it from her.”

Ludinus’s gaze finally ripped away from Liliana and met the raven’s golden eyes.

“You had a choice too. This is nothing more than a dying woman’s regrets. Liliana chose to stay by my side, do not project your path onto her.”

“Then you will take her down with you. You and that abomination in the sky.” The raven said, tone growing as cold as the wind.

“No. I will set her free from you and every other god who tries to claim lordship over us. Let this be my final words to you, Mother.”

Ludinus gestured towards Rudius, eyes flashing with wrathful anger and a brief spark of long held pain.

“Good riddance. May Predathos take you swiftly.”

He walked away and down to meet Liliana. The raven flapped its wings and let out a soft caw. Her voice was still ringing in his mind as Liliana approached. He willed his heart to slow.

“May your death grant you the peace you are searching for, my child.”

****

In a bright red flash, Ludinus arrived back in Exandria. He internally sighed as his thoughts drifted to the task ahead. Incompetent fools had forced him to go to Aeor himself. He waved away the Vanguard soldiers as he descended the Malleus Key. His gaze drifting to the orb that was the Champion of Ravens.

He paused for a moment and then placed a hand on it. It vibrated slightly with the force of the half-elf’s screams.

“I do regret that we never had the chance to formally chat, champion. I think we would have had a lot to discuss.”

Ludinus’s gaze drifted to the skies. Not a raven in sight. He felt a flutter of triumphant spite and then a stab of disappointment which he buried. He wondered if he would ever stop simultaneously wanting her attention and for her to leave him alone.

“She rallies her forces but I’m afraid she will not be coming to help you. But you knew that already didn’t you?”

He paced back and forth along the Key, ignoring the glances of the soldiers.

“She never does unless it serves her. How many times have you asked for her aid? She hears you but chooses not to come.”

Ludinus let out a laugh that bordered on hysterical. “Even as your world is burning and you lay there half dead, she won’t come. Champion, did she say she cared for you? I know your story, Vax’ildan. The Raven Queen chooses a certain type of people to bestow her care upon.

He ran a hand down the side of the orb. For a brief moment, he did not know if the reflection was his or the champion’s. Maybe once, a lifetime ago, the idea that her champions looked just like him gave him hope. But now it curdled his blood with contempt and bitterness.

“All you wanted was to protect your loved ones, but see Champion, she doesn’t like doing that herself so why should you get to do so? I am sorry that this is how things must be.”

Ludinus’s gaze returned to the sky. No more of this. He had a job to do.

Just as his watery blue teleport blinked him to the snow covered land of Eisselcross, a single black feather dropped from the sky.

[hanasnx]

baking happens after you use all of your liquid and cream products. so foundation, concealer, cream, blush, etc.

(ex. cream blush would go before baking but powder blush can go after bc there’s no need to bake it)

baking is typically for full/heavier faces of makeup so it’s not a commonly used for makeup trends lately since they focus more on natural “no makeup” makeup. instead they use a light layer of setting powder (also used for making) or a pressed powder to set their face. it’s not even always used all over, sometimes just in my oily spots.

i personally just set under my eyes and use setting spray for the rest of my face because i hate looking too matte (but i do keep pressed powder on me when it’s hot out just to get rid of any oil that may show up throughout the day)

so baking doesn’t necessarily come after contour if the contour is powder, i’m p sure you can do it after. i’ll try to find a good tutorial but tiktoks search system is so fucked rn so give me some time.

https://www.ipsy.com/blog/baking-vs-setting-makeup

this is also a very good article explaining the difference between baking and regular setting. but i find a visual tutorial is always a little better.

you can do your base routine before or after eye makeup it’s really just a personal preference. i do mine before bc i have my go -to eye routine so on lock that i’m not concerned about fucking it up. i know a lot of professional make up artists do it first bc sometimes the way their eye makeup looks will dictate the placement of some parts of their base routine.

contour goes on the parts of your face where there are shadows. hollows of your cheeks, jawline, nose. i’ve been told to blend cheek contour upwards to make your face more sharp looking, and blend your jaw contour down to achieve that same effect.

bronzer (if you’re into that) would go on the parts of your face that the sun hit bc it’s supposed to warm you up. i tend to skip this step bc there aren’t a lot of cool toned bronzers.

idk if you put eyeshadow under your eyes too but i think it looks really nice. a small brush + blending it out just a bit under your waterline + eyeliner in your waterline!!! so good

i don’t have the right eyes for lashes (f in the chat for me) so i just really make sure my mascara is a good one. essence lash princess (the one with the green on it) is super affordable and very good. also maybelline has a shit time of popular and really good mascaras that are cheap as hell

pastes/pomades for brows are great, i use one regularly but i’m very light with my strokes bc i was once told i look like a villain if my brows are too bold. brow pencils are also great if you want preciseness

i also learned how to do my makeup through trial and error. a LOT of trial and error bc i A) suck at follow tutorials and B) didn’t have similar features to any of the people i was watching. so i just had to figure it out on my own so i really recommend that no matter what tutorials you watch A) adapt them to your face shape and B) continue using trial and error and explore your face and features on your own

i’ll be back with some vids if i can find any :)

idc about makeup trends rn with the whole "natural" "cleaner" look fuck that. i have a guy's face that needs to be painted over with gothic meets party girl makeup. thank you for explaining baking and for the blush bit. i typically don't use any blush at all and i don't see myself using it in the future, i've never been a fan of how it looks on me

the tip about keeping pressed powder on you for oily bits throughout the day, and the link are supremely helpful thank you smm

got it i'll skip the bronzer i didn't know if there was a cool toned version of it to use

i have like old mascara that i inherited from one of my sisters so ill prolly get a new one soon thank u for the tips, and for the eyebrows i have the clay/pomade like i told u but i got too light of a color so do that first and then i darken it with black eyeshadow and then i sharpen it using concealer which is what u saw in the pic. i think i could stand to make them darker bcos i like bold eyebrows but i guess it might make me look too masculine which would defeat the purpose of wearing the full face of makeup to warp those existing traits

the paragraph about learning through trial and error was literally what i've been doing my entire experience with makeup. no mainstream makeup looks ever complimented me and i wasnt rly going for a drag look bcos i'm trying to be a touch more subtle with it. the problem i was running into which drove me to ask the chat for tips is bcos im self taught that means a lot of stuff i don't know how to works or what to ask or the order etc so you've been extremely helpful on that front especially with building confidence so thank you

[studywgabi]

My Morning Routine with Body Dysmorphic Disorder

From the ages of 12 to 16, I spent 4 hours getting ready for school every weekday morning. First period started at 7:35 A.M., I woke up at 3:40 and usually arrived to class around 7:55 with an apologetic smile and a late pass. I said it was car trouble, or that my alarm hadn't gone off.

I spent the first hour-and-a-half of my day plucking my eyebrows, my temples, and my forehead up to my hairline, sitting side saddle on the sink and twisting around towards the mirror when I got tired of standing. I shaved the rest of the face from the eyes down: my cheeks, my sideburns, mustache, beard, and nose, my neck, and my ears with just water, no shaving cream. Then I spent another hour-and-a-half in the shower, turning the water on to rinse my razor and off again to shave repeatedly to try and stretch the heat as long as possible. I covered my entire body with shaving cream, painting myself white. I started with my stomach, then my breasts, my sternum, my nipples, then my sides, my underarms, my back as far up as I could reach and then my shoulders as far down, though I always missed a strip of skin above my waist. My hairline on the back of my neck, so nothing could stand up, even if I was scared. Then my arms, my hands, my knuckles, I wasn't very careful and I gave myself a few scars. Next my legs, feet, toes and pubic hair. When the water ran ice cold, I would turn it off, get out, and set up my makeup table while I waited for it to warm up again. I got back in, nicked myself a few more times, then washed my hair and body and used my prescription acne cleanser. My parents bought men's razors in bulk because I needed a new one every day. My clean skin only lasted a couple of hours, then turned into 11:00 A.M. shadow.

The next hour was makeup: sunscreen, moisturizer, primer, foundation, concealer, bronzer, contour, setting powder, blush, chapstick, lip liner, lipstick, eyebrow pencil, eyeshadow, eyeliner, and mascara. I wasn't very good at it; it always came out cakey or racoony. I listened to music, mostly Taylor Swift or Avril Lavigne, sometimes showtunes, while I worked. Then I brushed my hair, adding some brown eyeshadow to the bald spots to make it look fuller, got dressed in my school uniform, and packed up my lunch and books in a rush. No time for breakfast and I had the early lunch period at 10:35 anyway. I'm a girly-girl. I think I would have loved makeup the way I love fashion. I think it would have been fun to experiment with new colors, new styles, new brands, my favorite actresses' recommendations.

If I didn't do this, I couldn't leave my house. So I had the flu a lot. And I never went out on weekends. My one goal in life was beauty, or getting as close to it as someone like me could. It took up everything: my time, my energy, my focus. For the rest of the day, when I wasn't grooming, I was thinking about it.

Two years later, I don't do it anymore, but I miss it. If felt so good. It was so satisfying to destroy all those little parts of myself over and over again every day. I looked forward to it. I enjoyed the routine of it; it was so familiar to me. Mondays were my favorite, when I could free myself of all the evil that had built up over the weekend. I can't stand to touch my skin now and have to remember how smooth it used to be. I've scratched myself bloody trying to find some relief.

There have been setbacks. I snuck my mother's tweezers into the bathroom a couple of times, or she left her razor lying around after she thought I'd gotten over it. If I grow my nails out long enough, I can use them. I've tried other methods- new snake oil miracle razors, every depilatory cream, waxing, threading, bleaching, free consultations for expensive laser and electrolysis.

All the adults in my life were so happy and proud of me when I stopped. I don't feel I've made any "progress" as they define it. I don't perform those behaviors anymore, but I feel even worse. I hate myself even more, I feel trapped inside my own skin. I'm not any more loved or accepted now than I was then, which was all that mattered to me.

They have no idea what it is to be hideous. They could never, ever understand what it's like to have to exist in this world in this body. To have to live with yourself and sleep at night knowing what you are. To never be a woman, to never be young, to be inhuman, your own vile, repulsive species, something completely separate than everyone around you that should be kept locked in a cage away from society. Something that should be put down for it's own good. To be some kind of animal, or beast, to be born a monster. To want to gouge your own eyes out so you never have to see yourself, to want to die because you aren't strong enough to live this way. To know that you'll spend every last moment of your whole life alone.

It was so difficult for me to accept my BDD diagnosis. I guess I still haven't. I don't "fixate on my perceived flaws," other people do. I do my best to correct my very much real flaws so that other people don't have to look at them. I didn't come up with this on my own, I didn't choose to be ill, if that's what I am, and I sure as hell didn't choose this body. I don't want to look like this, I don't want to upset people with my appearance, I don't want it to be necessary for me to do all this to fix myself, but it's just what I have to do. I accepted that, and I couldn't understand why no one else did.

Is there someone who could prove me wrong? Is there someone who could wait for me, not mind that I'm late to everything, that I always cancel plans at the last minute? Is there someone who wouldn't mind that I'm a crybaby, that I'm too particular and too sensitive? Is there someone who wouldn't mind me? There wasn't then and there isn't now and I don't think there's going to be. And as hard as I try, I can't stop needing there to be, and I can't be that person for myself.

[moltengoldveins]

(I’m doin it again-)

Passerine tastes like blood and old paper. It smells like old paper too, and gunpowder. Wet leaves and rose oil. Sweat and an apple orchard. Oil paint and your mother’s hair. It is a whole book of smells, really. It sounds like a double flute, played at a distance over the hills, just close enough to hover in the back of your mind, just loud enough that you can’t unhear it. It shines like gold in a river, little flecks of perfect memory tossed into the water like so much chaff, lost amidst the gravel. It creaks when you read it, expanding and contracting like the trees in an old forest do, towering above you like sentinels. They’re watching, along with the stars and the little things in the moss. They’re waiting for something. So are you, though you might not know it yet. Nothing can truly describe the twists in this story. It’s like you’ve stepped to the edge of a great cliff over the sea. Beneath you, almost far enough that you can’t hear it, the water is crashing in grand white capped waves, beating the rock to a fine black sand. The wind picks up without warning, and within that little moment you realize you’ve overbalanced, you’re about to fall. Then your friend catches your sleeve, your heels hit the grass, and you’re safe again. But it haunts you all the way back to your car, that moment of weightlessness. Passerine feels like looking at a photograph of your great-grandmother and seeing your own face looking back at you. It feels like walking through a graveyard on a fall afternoon and chatting with the headstones. It feels like rolling gemstones in your hands, watching them scatter your skin in little rainbows, feeling them clatter. It’s lonely, too. You’re an astronomer standing in NYC’s Grand Central Station and staring up at the painted ceilings, tracing the lines of each Zodiac symbol, your shoulders knocking back and forth as New Yorkers brush past you. You realize all at once that you can’t remember what a single one of those stars are called. Despite the cacophony, you have never been more alone. (the last chapter feels like turning the corner of some random street and seeing a friend you thought you’d lost forever. Maybe they married someone and left you behind. Maybe they got into an accident and left everything behind. But they see you, and even though you’re out in your windbreaker and you’ve got a bag over your shoulder, they sweep you up in a hug, and you’re home again.) Passerine is the first fanfic I ever read. I think it might be my favorite, if I ever manage to read it again without sobbing like a child who’s lost her mother. I think it’s the best argument for the value of mortality and suffering in the human experience I’ve ever encountered. I like the prose. I think it’s one of the most original ideas for a fantasy setting in modern fiction. I think the jokes are funny.

I think you should read it.

[fightabear]

i bought a new oil paint brush set for procreate and goddamn if it isnt giving me all the joy right now.

i've got to finish this before the 25th so today was like 4 hours of just frantically trying to make what's on my head appear on the page

[flame-shadow]

hi! sorry if you've already answered this somewhere, but what program do you use and do you have any favourite brushes, particularly for colouring/shading? i use krita and have been meaning to experiment with new brushes, but it's just hard to know where to start, and i love the way your art looks so i figured this might be a good starting point. thank you!

I don't think I've answered that here, but I don't mind repeating myself if I have XD

I use Clip Studio Paint for my digital art, and I only use a few brushes for most of what I make. I don't know if they'll be compatible with Krita, but I'll share the sources anyway. All of these are free to download (though the deviantArt ones might require an account to log in? i got these brushes years ago so i don't remember for sure).

For sketching and lineart stuff, I use either Loose Inker Smooth or a brush I modified to be blocky. The cel brush is originally from this pack, but what I use looks pretty different now. While these are mostly for sketching/lining, I also use them for other parts of drawings too, such as giving a little texture to the edges of cell shading or for hatching.

For coloring/shading, I most often use Perfect Oil Paint 2 or Flat Brush from this pack. They both have nice texture to them and blend in different, fun ways.

I'm not sure how compatible brushes like these are with Krita, so some general tips I have for finding brushes are:

find brushes that you enjoy using

find at least two with textures that appeal to you. smooth lines and shadows are nice and all, but textures give bonus visual interest for minimal effort. good for backgrounds and accents if nothing else

if you like a brush in general but it's not quite satisfying, then make a duplicate of it and mess with the settings. poke around at enough things, and you might find your new fave! (this is what I did for my Cel blocky brush)

Good luck!

Bonus silly sketch because why not:

often when I want to shade a sketch, I'll block in the colors with a hard brush first [left side] then grab one of my textured brushes [this one was perfect oil paint 2] to blend some of the edges softer. bonus hue shift along the edge of the shadows because I felt like it. Drawing on a background that isn't pure white (eg. grey or a muted color) can add visual interest and allow for quick highlights to be added without needing to fully color the sketch.

[mel-addams]

HEY there's new folks here since I last rambled about Rebelle, and they've got a HUGE sale going on for the preorder of the next version, SO

TL;DR: amazing traditional-paint-emulating drawing program on huge preorder discount, $30 for Pro version GO GET YOU YOURS

I've been using the digital art program Rebelle for a bit over a year, and it is SO GOOD at emulating the feel of working with traditional paints, pencils, and pastels! It's got thick (or thin) impasto texture for oils/acrylics, water physics (!!) for watercolors, and can actually use the texture of your canvas to affect both wet and dry media brushes. It feels SO MUCH better than hooking a texture into a brush and working on a canvas that just...doesn't match it, or applying a texture afterward. BUT ALSO they're gonna be updating it soon, and adding not just standard digital niceties, but also METALLIC. PAINTS. Plus more texture stuff you can control, and even better texture reactivity, but METALLIC! PAINTS!! USING THE BUILT-IN LIGHTING AND TEXTURE SHENANIGANS, INSTEAD OF HAVING TO MESS AROUND WITH WRANGLING/OUTSOURCING EFFECTS YOURSELF

And the pre-order price from now until November 30th is ONLY $30 for the Pro version (which I absolutely recommend!), when the price is usually $150 (!!). The Pro preorder price will increase to $50 from December 1st to the 13th, then full price when it releases on December 14th. And they don't do subscription! Just free updates (typically good and/or requested features, as well as bugfixes), in between full upgrades like this that have been HUGELY discounted on release.

You can check out further info on Version 7's upgrade features, as well as the link to buy it, via the link at the top of the post. BUT if you wanna test out basic watercolor simulation, and/or test the trial version of Rebelle 6 (I think) to see if you like how it feels? You can check out this link: https://www.escapemotions.com/products/rebelle/try/

(Also they often do this sort of thing with the free bonus papers for spreading the word, as mentioned at the beginning of the Version 7 info link. I think it's happened...at least each time they've done a version upgrade, maybe once or twice in between? And it's been a different set of papers each time. But I already did my shared-post earlier. This post is genuinely just 'cause I think stuff like the feel of brushes reacting to visible texture and water physics (which you can pause!) are SO NICE, and the preorder price is bonkers-cheap. I still need side stuff like Affinity for like...fonts, but Rebelle is my current favorite for actual drawing and painting.)

PERSONAL EXAMPLE TIME

Playing around with watercolor drips, because you can control the "tilt" of the canvas (via either a tablet's features if it can, or a disk in the UI if not): Bakuratober Ghost prompt

Using canvas texture to get a RAD cracked-paint look on a dark canvas (I used the Straw canvas from the "Mulberry Coconut & Straw" purchasable paper set): Bakuratober Vampire prompt

Taking advantage of thick acrylic texture (plus watercolor which flowed into the brush streaks for emphasis), to simulate both muscle and sand texture (body horror warning): Bakuratober bonus prompt (Nightmare)

Combining a mildly textured pencil with a subtly textured canvas to emulate how I use physical colored pencils (plus layer effects for glowy ghosties): Bakuratober Dancer prompt

Combining wet canvas and watercolors to let the pigment feather out to create a "blurry" foreground effect (plus setting lineart as a masking fluid layer to keep colors contained): Disco (Elysium) Harmony

[kaz-foxsen]

AI Art Quest: Tattooed Cat Part 2

To read Part 1, click here: https://www.tumblr.com/kaz-foxsen/709160129308819456/ai-art-quest-the-tattooed-cat?source=share Next, I wanted to try upscaling.

I picked an image I liked and edited it in Photoshop to fix up that blank area, get rid of the whiskers, and make the design conform to the cat's anatomy better (I used Warp to stretch the design then painted some light and shadow over it).

I used the Ultimate SD upscale script, but I couldn't get realistic results with upscaling.

Maybe the pattern was too delicate?

I picked another image with a bolder design to try upscaling (after fixing it in Photoshop)

My upscales kept coming out too smooth and the tattoos were sloppy.

I don't think such a regal cat would get work done in some scratcher's kitchen!

Prompt: a ((photo)) of a tattooed sphynx cat, colorful Oaxacan patterns, thick intricate tattoo linework, blackwork tattoo, fuzzy skin, skin pores, ((detailed irises))

Negative prompt: fur, hair, whiskers, digital painting, fake, deformed, ugly, ((plastic)), ((cleft chin)), asymmetrical tattoo, ((asymmetry)), scratcher, crooked lines, scratchy lines, wiggly lines, scribble, ugly, gross, messy linework, amateur, warped pupils, lumpy chin, chin tumor, ((oil painting)), painting, shiny skin, 3D rendering

Steps: 40, Sampler: DPM2 Karras, CFG scale: 7, Seed: 366182082, Size: 1024x1536, Model hash: 00839a9f17, Model: kkw-FANTAREAL-V1.0, Denoising strength: 0.2, Mask blur: 4, Ultimate SD upscale upscaler: R-ESRGAN 4x+, Ultimate SD upscale tile_width: 512, Ultimate SD upscale tile_height: 512, Ultimate SD upscale mask_blur: 8, Ultimate SD upscale padding: 32 After asking for help in r/StableDiffusion, I read the suggestion to change the upscaler from R-ESRGAN 4x+ to LDSR.

I got better results, but there were still problems that couldn't seem to be solved by one Sampler:

The settings common to both images: Prompt: a photo of a tattooed sphynx cat, colorful Oaxacan patterns, thick intricate tattoo linework, blackwork tattoo, geometric pattern tattoo, ((fuzzy skin)), velvet skin texture, pores, ((detailed irises)), smooth lips, ((((good tattoo)))), realistic skin details, (((photograph))) of a cat, (((thick linework))) tattoos

Negative prompt: whiskers, digital painting, fake, deformed, ugly, ((plastic)), ((cleft chin)), asymmetrical tattoo, ((asymmetry)), scratcher, crooked lines, scratchy lines, wiggly lines, scribble, ugly, gross, messy linework, amateur, warped pupils, lumpy chin, chin tumor, ((oil painting)), ((((painting)))), shiny skin, ((3D rendering)), airbrushed, ((rough lips)), ((plastic ears)), sloppy tattoo, cartoony, cartoonish, illustration, smudged, smeared, ((fine lines)), scratchy lines

Steps: 20, CFG scale: 10, Seed: 306356658, Size: 1024x1536, Denoising strength: 0.22

When I use Automatic 1111's "Interrogate CLIP" feature, it reveals that apparently, the AI thinks my cat is wearing a sweater! That's probably why it looks roughly textured and a bit like embroidery.

Also, having or removing "Carlos Catasse" didn't seem to affect much at a Denoising Strength of 0.22.

I took the interrogated prompt and altered it to create img2img results with much better tattoos:

Settings I used for both new images:

Steps: 20 Sampler: Euler a CFG scale: 10 Seed: 306356658 Size: 1024x1536 Model hash: 00839a9f17 Model: kkw-FANTAREAL-V1.0 Denoising strength: 0.22

Since another suggestion in the thread was to improve my image's lighting, I considered that the shadows might make the image look more stylized than I wanted.

I tried really hard to change the lighting using Instruct-Pix2Pix, but couldn't alter the direction or mitigate the raging chiaroscuro going on:

I got so sick of strong shadows and excessively warty ears that I brought the image into Photoshop and did some air brushing to my image prompt.

Got some good results out of that. It's far from finished, but I'll have to continue the quest later.

prompt: a hairless sphynx cat with a tattoo on it's back and a smooth chin and yellow eyes sitting on a table next to a green background, a tattoo, photography, (((3-point lighting))), 35mm photo, photo shoot, subsurface scattering

Negative prompt: ugly, deformed, shiny skin, cartoon, painting, plastic, clay, fur, hair, whiskers, ((cleft chin)), ((((chiaroscuro)))), dark shadows, wrinkly ears, lumpy ears, warts, ugly warty ears, pimples, ((skin tags)), (((deformed ears)))

Steps: 20, Sampler: Euler a, CFG scale: 12, Seed: 3926695603, Size: 1024x1536, Model hash: 00839a9f17, Model: kkw-FANTAREAL-V1.0, Denoising strength: 0.29, Mask blur: 4