My author has been having weird dreams as of late, and she recently had one that involved creepy waffle tarantulas. I wanted to make them super cute so she wouldn’t be scared of them anymore, and this happened. 

This waffle tarantula enjoys making syrup spiderwebs and floating on rivers of whipped cream.

Nightly doodle I did after inking some pages for a thing. Alter, looking… peaceful or something. He always seems to be the character I draw when I just let my hand go, hmm.

Character turnaround I did for a portfolio thingy~ This is Theo! He’s a character I’ve been playing around with for a little bit for a story I wanna draw one day. He’s the most southern boy ever, yup.

PS: click for fullview because the small view kills this image ;__;

Color study/painting study~ Alter, as always, because for some reason he’s my default doodle character. I don’t really know what he’s doing here….

The best hands I have ever drawn in my life. I will never be able to recreate these u__u;; WIP of a thing I’m using for a color study. 

After playing a session of D&D, the group started talking about fancy clothes and how awesome it would be if the characters all had to dress up to get into a ball or something really cool like that. And then… this kind of just happened. Alter cleans up well!

So this happened. Llyr, as a pokemon trainer because that’s what the world is about. He’d have a Charmander as his starter and then a whole team of Eevees, bent on getting all of their eeveelutions. The end.

Expression meme exercise! Featuring (from the left) Ries, Alter, and Llyr. This was challenging but fun~ 

Original (blank) meme is here.

new character! His name is Keir and he is a sad puppy. Just a little painting exercise. Worked off of a color palette since white/pale is hard to work with hffff

Ash

There are nights when he dreams so vividly that he’s sure it’s real. Those dreams are the ones in which he sees multiple futures, each one flowing in and out of possibility. Many are snuffed out just as they start, the choices of others in the world conflicting with the continuous unraveling of time. There are a few, though, that are prolonged. It’s these that he feels discomfort with— they can repeat over a period of days or weeks, causing him to worry and grow ill with paranoia. He is not a nervous man by nature, so anything that can get under his skin like this frightens him.

Recently, he’s had a handful of such dreams, each one leaving him feeling drained when morning breaks. The first he sees is him older, frailer, and exhausted. In the dream, he can feel his magic humming in his bones just as it does now, only the thrum is weaker, faltering. It’s also in this dream that his mind wanders, unable to keep on a thought for too long and his memory is poor. He steers his dream away from this as much as possible, feeling sick to his stomach if he keeps on it for too long.

The next is not a future, but a past, something caught on loop. He feels like it’s trying to tell him something, but when he wakes up, he can’t remember enough of the details to know what he should be looking for. In this dream, he lives a past life, doing magic he’s just now getting used to again. There’s a man whose face he can’t make out, asking him to do work and smiling so predatory that he always feels a chill run straight through him. It’s harder to pull his mind away from this one— almost as if the man with the glinting teeth has his hooks in him.

At last, he arrives at the most prevalent of the dreams. This one doesn’t fill him with illness or creeping dread. Instead, it suffocates him with despair, like ghostly hands coming up to choke the life out of him. Here, there is nothing but ash, where once things stood, where people lived. Fires swell in the distance, and the wind around him screams. He looks around in this one, often, trying to find someone, anyone, but he’s left alone. At the corner of his mind, he has the sinking feeling that everyone is dead, but all that remains of them are scorch marks and smears of dried blood. He wants to grieve for them, but the air is so hot it dries what little tears he has left.

It doesn’t take him much to figure out what this is.

Whenever he drags himself to waking after, he swears again that he’ll end the Worldslayer.