individual portraits

The Dregs | Six of Crows

Well here they are all together. It was a little trickier that I thought to group them up cohesively so I hope it looks alright. I knew I was gonna have them framed by crow wings but it kind of took a byzantine turn… I’m not entirely sure how that happened but I just decided to run with it. The words around them sum them up but at the same time kind of tell a five word story about their growth as characters. To see the individual portraits in better detail go here

The Libra walks a delicate path in life. The individual is
ascended on airy wings above a tightrope of oppositions and multiple perspectives that she is forced to reconcile and balance. She knows the
fragility of everything, especially relationships, the truth from the lie, the golden glow of madness, the ability to sink into the mind of everyone around her, the thoughts of others
crackle like thunder, their howls like wails from her own chest. There tends to be
a great interest in depth psychology with Libra. Attempting to intellectually understand the people around her and fuse this with incredible
social intuition generates a tremendous insight into pure human nature and behavior. She is a natural psychologist, she can read people
like books. The Libra  knows how to see the beauty in every soul, and to keep peace in the
Venus kingdom she tip toes around others, fearful of spraying poisonous conflict into the air she keeps diamond and free from dusty disharmony. She really is the Queen of Hearts. Love is the carousal ride that keeps the world rich with colour, delight, and
sensation for Libra. But it is not simply about romantic relationships, but about bringing the bliss of harmony through the world through reconciling
what is opposite, creating relationships with light, aroma, design, movement, and
fragmented parts of herself. There is something dainty about the Libra world because the individual sketches such portraits of perfection, projecting tremendous
ideals and lines of symmetry onto her surroundings. Life is a dance to Libra across cards gently placed, she twirls on imagination and spins in reverie, it is a performance of abstract movement, a tightrope display, a true display of artistry.


anonymous asked:

I'm addicted to your blog, can you write about tsuna , mukuro and hibari's reaction when they had vongola torture their s/o for info because they thought s/o is a spy that is giving another famiglia infos about vongola , but turns out the spy was someone else


admin adelheid


“Jyuudaime,” Tsuna remained where he was, standing in front of Giotto’s portrait as he held the engagement ring he had wanted to give you tonight on your fifth anniversary in his fingers. “They’re ready. Your orders?”

He had to do it. He had no other choice.

One of his men had his sixteen year old daughter raped and blinded; she’ll never be the same again.

One had even had his parents dismembered and their pieces hung in their family home. No one has heard him speak since.

Another of his men had now lost his mind alongside his dead wife who had been pregnant with their child. Shot in the head after being tortured into losing the baby. He didn’t even know she was pregnant.

All three of them now surrounded him. Eyeing him expectantly, their eyes begging him to give them their justice.

All because you had leaked Vongola’s secrets to an enemy. An enemy whose days were now about to end.

Tsuna turned away from the portrait and sat down on the chair facing his three victimized subordinates and the rest of the high ranking members of the Vongola’s inner council. All his Guardians were there too.

Gokudera looked angrier than usual. Yamamoto kept throwing him concerned glances. Mukuro had his arms crossed and glaring at him while although Hibari seemed cool his eyes flashed in irritation. Ryohei was restless, he could barely stand still. Lambo was surprisingly awake, tiny flashes of lightning running back and forth from his eyes and his hair in his angry frustration and Chrome could barely hide the fact that she wanted to cry behind her mask of neutrality.

Even the individual portraits of Giotto’s Guardians seem to be eyeing the assembly with disapproval.

None of his Guardians wanted this but the Famiglia was everything. The Famiglia wanted blood. The Famiglia came first.

And Tsuna was the one they expected to deliver. “Do it.”

He barely heard his right hand man give the quiet affirmative through his earpiece.

And then the screaming started.

Tsuna resolved to remain stoic the entire time. It was a testament to Reborn’s training that his face didn’t even twitch when he heard you scream his name. He was well aware what kind of torture you were going through right now, it had been a part of his training, after all. He had undergone some of them himself from the few times he had fucked up and ended up weakened enough to be taken prisoner back when he was still a wet behind the ears fool.

The hot pokers. The knives through the hand. The flaying… He had seen it all.

The members of the Vongola’s inner council were all indifferent, as indifferent looking as their Boss himself. But the man that had gone insane laughed a few times quite maniacally as he demanded more blood from you, more screaming even as tears dribbled down his chin. The man whose parents had been murdered flinched and twitched in his seat a few times while the man whose daughter was raped stared at the carpet; the skin around his mouth and the knuckles on his fists white.

Tsuna’s face remained unruffled and solemn. Like an undisturbed surface of a pool as your pained cries and begging and denials echoed throughout the sealed chamber that was the Vongola’s portrait room.

Suddenly there was a commotion out in the halls.

Tsuna didn’t move even though everyone else was turned towards the doors and the noise beyond it. It was as though he were in another world where no one could ever touch him.

Suddenly the doors were flung open. A half burned man came in with a handgun wrestled from one of the shocked guards outside. The smell of his burnt flesh and the gasoline used to accelerate it pungent in the closed space. It made several of the occupant’s gag but this man remained unbothered. His now deformed eyes furiously turned with murderous intent on the man whose parents had been dismembered.


And then there was pandemonium and everything went to hell.

Gokudera screaming into his earpiece to stop your torture, Ryohei running out of the room to where you are, Chrome calling for other Sun users and medics to attend to this burned man and the remaining Guardians, fire and ice blazing in their eyes stalking towards the accused man who was now backing away from them all in terror. He knew he was not going to die easily.

The Vongola’s inner circle members all started muttering nervously, their indifferent facades breaking into a string of unintelligible mumbles as they all shot their Decimo fearful looks.

But Tsuna merely rose from his seat, regal as a king; calm as spring rain. He walked out of the room without even glancing back at the people left in it. Everyone he met along the winding corridor towards his room bowed their heads to him but he did not even acknowledge their existence. As soon as he reached the bedroom that still held your clothes, your scent and the remainder of your essence, he locked the door behind him.

And then he fell on his knees, curled up on the floor sobbing into the hands that still cradled your engagement ring.


“Mukuro-sama, please―”


“I’m begging you, please! Just give me a little more time! I know she’s innocent; give me a chance to prove it!”

He turned back to Chrome with an incredulous expression on his face before he sneered. “Are you out of your mind, Nagi?! Even after we’ve seen the evidence?! Her entire squad gave her away!”

“They’re lying! Please! Hibari-san is investigating this himself. Just a little while longer!”

Mukuro laughed sadistically and patted his former protégé fondly on the head despite her desperate countenance. “My cute Chrome, have you forgotten that I am a master of lies? I think I would be more than be able to tell if she’s lying to me or not.”

Frustrated, Chrome grabbed onto Mukuro’s shirt and looked into his eyes angrily. “You’re blinded! You care about her! That’s why you’re so ready to think the worst of her! You’ve always been like this! The more you care about people the more you push them away!”

Enough.” He replied through gritted teeth as their eyes met in a battle of wills. “It’s too late, I have already surrendered her to the interrogators yesterday they should be done with her by now if they know what they’re doing. What is done is done. I don’t need anyone’s sympathy. Not from God, not from anyone and especially not from you.”

Mukuro left Chrome in the corridor, ignoring her calls as he stormed into the room where they held you down. It wasn’t just Chrome, though. In the past few days when your loyalty had started to come into question the Guardians had been torn about the entire discovery of your duplicity. This was not the first fight he had with his female counterpart about the matter. And although no one else said anything Mukuro had noticed them all walk on eggshells around him.

Ridiculous. Did they really think he was so attached that his judgment would be impaired by his feelings for you? Mukuro was used to be the liar not the one being lied to. And you having managed such an atrocity was a professional blow to him. He ignored the part of his soul that was burning in agony at the thought of you in pain.

He entered the basement that doubled as a dungeon. The dark, metallic scented stains on the wall a litany to the long history of suffering this place has borne witness to. He was allowed in the room you were being kept in without anyone batting an eyelash.

“Mukuro-sama! Forgive us. We didn’t know you were coming!”

Mukuro ignored the man and looked down at you, your body torn and battered and barely even breathing. But when you heard his voice you did your best to look up and meet his eyes. Mukuro was treated to your swollen face and your broken teeth. His mind almost exploded from the fury even as he fought the sting that suddenly filmed his eyes.

How dare you look up at him with such confusion in your gaze? How dare you look so beautiful despite all this blood? How dare you still wear his ring? How dare his heart clench at the sight of you?

“What has she told you?”

“Nothing, sir,” one of the people in charge of your ‘questioning’ replied, uneasy at the sparking emotions in the male Mist Guardian’s eyes. Everybody knew enough to know not to cross Rokudo Mukuro when he was like this. Most people knew not to approach him at all. “She denied everything. She’s… very well trained.”

“Leave us.”

He didn’t even bother to look as one by one the Vongola’s interrogators left the room. Mukuro couldn’t help but snort at the incompetency of these fools. He had offered to interrogate her himself but Tsunayoshi refused, telling him he was too close to the matter. Mukuro thought it was ridiculous. Tsunayoshi was just being kind. But he never had any kindness to spare for the people who betray him.

“I don’t really care about the crimes you’re accused of,” he began, his voice smooth and hard like a sharp, tempered knife. “I don’t care how many people you’ve killed or how many rules you’ve broken.”

You tried to open your mouth but they must have damaged your throat. All that made it out of your mouth was a high pitched string of sound.

Mukuro’s eyes were pitiless as he kept on meeting your eyes. “But you made me believe you loved me and because of that I gave you all of me. You made me live my own delusions all this time. I was actually foolish enough to think we could have a family. I believed you, damn it! For that, I will never forgive you.”

You tried to move your broken arms, reaching for his shoes as though wanting to beg and make him listen. Tears mixing with the blood on your face as though comforting him in his hour of pain. As though still trying to make him believe your lies. It was more than Mukuro could bear. All he wanted to do was pick you up and keep you safe. He wanted to hold you close and run away with you.

How could he still be so in love with you?

“Make her talk. Do everything you can to make her tell you who else has betrayed us to the enemy!” he ordered to the startled men who had been waiting outside.

Blindly he fled from the room, casting an illusion on himself to make himself invisible. He didn’t care if he bumped into anyone else along the way leaving people confused and frightened left and right. Rushing he went straight into the closest men’s room he could find and lost all strength in front of the mirror as he leaned on a sink. As soon as he saw his reflection he began to laugh through his sobs.

It seems Tsunayoshi was right all along. Since when did the little Decimo know him better than he knew himself?

Suddenly the men’s room opened and in came three men Mukuro had recognized all too well. They were members of your squad. They made it passed him straight to the urinals without acknowledging his presence reminding Mukuro that he was still invisible.

“I heard Mukuro gave her up yesterday.”

“Serves her right,” one of them, your second-in-command answered as they did their business. “She almost found out we were the ones selling all that info away.”

“Shhh! Are you out of your mind?! What if someone heard?!”

“Yeah, yeah. Still, I would have loved to see her face one more time just to see what expression she’d make if she found out the info we keep selling are the ones we keep on overhearing her talk about with Mukuro over the phone. Talk about a pair of total idiots.”

Mukuro was in too much of a shock to move. Even after they left his legs had turned into too much jelly to follow them. His will had weakened so much he let go of the illusion around himself.

He remembered your face just now. All the blood, all the tears, all the broken bones. He remembered the sound you made while he spoke to you so coldly. Worst of all he remembered the words that he had spat at your head and the fact that he had ordered people to deal you more pain.

His insides turned into water as he threw up in the lavatory sink.


“Are you sure you want to be here for this, Hibari?”

Kyoya said nothing. He didn’t move, he didn’t speak and no one in the room could even tell if he was even breathing. He merely stared right back at you as you sat clamped on that chair with the wires connected to the switch which would be the source of your suffering.

The room he and Tsuna were in and the room where you were being kept was divided by a glass wall and afforded you a chance to see each other. It was like a gruesome parody of a play’s front row seat.

You stared right back at him. He could see the fine trembling of your hands you were trying so desperately to hide even through the glass. He could see the faint traces of fear in your gaze. He could almost taste the guilt in your breath. He had always known you like the back of his hand…

Or at least that was what he thought.

Until the evidence he had gathered himself about the security leak in the Vongola led him to you.

All the deaths, all the money and territory that the Guardians were now sent out to regain were lost under his watch. Because he couldn’t keep himself from loving a traitor…

His clenched hands twitched at the memory and his mind desperately called for calm. Anger and betrayal swelled in his chest until it threatened to choke him. His pride lay tattered on the ground and you were the one who stepped on it and made it bleed. His eyes flashed violently and it even grew colder as your gaze broke under the indifferent violence of his gaze and your eyes settled on his feet. A further sign of your guilt.

“Hibari?” Tsuna called again.

The Don had not met his Cloud’s eyes since he entered the room. Hibari had known the brunette long enough to understand that he would rather have kept you as bait to lure out all the other rats and be patient but Kyoya had been too wounded, too hurt, too disgusted by the idea that he had been sleeping with the enemy. It was not in his nature to lie. He was not the damn Pineapple-head. And you were not just another woman he was keeping around just to sleep with. He had wanted to marry you, damn it. He had harbored you and your younger brother under his own roof and taken you away from poverty. He had never thought for even a second that you would betray him. He had given his entire self into your keeping and you gifted him with your false loyalty. You had the temerity to pretend that you loved him. Even now, as you sat there facing the judging eyes of his Family you still had the gall to wear his ring.

And the sight of it felt like claws digging into his heart.

“Why is that thing still wearing that?” he asked coldly, fury thick in the hoarse growl replacing his usually smooth monotone. His voice ruined by breaking his own rule of not overly imbibing any alcoholic beverage to the point of losing his self-control.

“It was the only thing she refused to take off, Kyo-san,” Kusakabe answered quietly, bowing behind his Boss. “She said we would have to cut her finger off before she surrendered it.”

Kyoya sneered even as his eyes stung at the memory of your promise the night he gave you that ring.

That you would never take it off until the day you died.

Only the truly brave would have noted out loud how the Cloud Guardian’s lips trembled or how his eyes shone brighter with the sheen of unshed tears. He hated this. He was no longer in control.

He can’t do this anymore.

“Begin.” Kyoya commanded harshly.

Tsuna nodded slowly at his side and reluctantly flicked his fingers towards the interrogators with the casual ease of a man who was used to dispensing immense power.

One of them obediently nodded and flipped the seemingly innocent looking switch.

And then your screaming started.

Your torturers were professionals, of course. They knew just when to stop the electrical current flowing through your body just before you lost consciousness. Each time they stopped they cajoled you. They threatened you. They verbally defecated you.

And all the while Kyoya stood beside Tsuna looking as outwardly calm as his Boss as he watched drool pour out of your mouth. As your eyes rolled towards the back of your head and your body tear itself up in agony. He kept a neutral face even as each scream tore at him like a storm of knives.

Through your pain he was reminded by a distant memory. A promise he made to you when he was still trying to convince you to be his.

That he would never allow you to be hurt by anything. Not even by his own hand.

His sense of honor screamed in agony with you.

He could hear the accusations and the demands from your torturers.

It lasted for hours.

But you said nothing. Admitted nothing. Denied nothing.

All you did was scream.

And seeing you in agony was more than Kyoya could take.

As your electrocution was stopped so as to give your torturers another opportunity to pepper you again with questions, the door to the room was suddenly opened and both Kyoya and Tsuna looked at the new arrival with studied expressions of disinterest.

Until the man threw a familiar young man at Kyoya’s feet.

“Dino,” Tsuna frowned at his older brother figure and the half dead young man on the floor. “What is this?”

“You were looking for a traitor right?” Dino replied, his grim eyes taking on your battered form still clamped by wires on the other side of the glass. Drool dripping from your mouth and eyes already on the edge of madness. “I thought there was something fishy about the way her brother was going around chumming with a group of boys his age who were notorious for committing petty crimes last time I came to visit. I had him followed for a few days now. Looks like his buddies were using him to steal information from you, Kyoya. He didn’t even know what he was doing. Apparently when he found out his sister was taken away for being the spy he put two and two together and he confronted them himself to get them to turn themselves in and save his sister. When I got to him he was already beaten up bloody.”

“Does this mean she knew? The reason she’s not talking is because she was protecting her brother?” Tsuna frowned at Dino’s nod and his eyes gleamed in the dim room. “You sure, Dino?”

Dino nodded grimly and pursed his lips in regret as he looked back at the shell of the person Kyoya loved so very much. “I’m sorry. I’m too late.”

A cold numbness spread through Kyoya’s entire body. It rushed and froze his blood from the tips of his fingers to the back of his head as a violent mix of fury, hate, fear, guilt and madness threatened to consume his soul.

He barely registered Tsuna ordering you and your younger brother be attended by a medical team immediately, the Cloud Guardian couldn’t even make himself look at your battered self. He was afraid. For the first time in a long time he feared looking back and face what may just be his biggest regret.

Both Tsuna and Dino could only resign themselves when they saw the crazed look in the eyes of the Cerberus of Namimori.

“Who?” the Cloud-user snarled coldly, practically frothing at the mouth.

Dino told him the Famiglia’s name and Kyoya strode out, Kusakabe already handing him his tonfas with a bowed head and violently gleaming eyes.

“Kyoya,” Tsuna had to ask. He needed to know where he was going to send people to clean after his Cloud Guardian later, after all. “What are you planning to do?”

The maniacal grin on Hibari Kyoya’s face would haunt the nightmares of many after that day as he gave his Don an answer.

“To war.”

Day 1: Self Portrait I guess this is what I look like???

Okay but I seriously have this thing I wanna do with killjoys so maybe reblog this with a description in the tags (or comment with a link to a reference if u have one) if I’m allowed to draw your killjoy for my lil project? ( /tagged/my art   is my art tag if u wanna see the stuff I’ve been doing recently )

I want the final product to be sort-of a suprise, so I don’t want to give out too many details, but after I post the big thing, I’ll be posting all the killjoys used in individual portraits for y’all, so you get to see your ‘joy child in the big thing and also have a full color, headshot style portrait of them!

If this is too vague for you (or if there’s anything about it you’d like to know more about) feel free to drop by my askbox or send an IM!)

anonymous asked:

I cannot believe Jaune and Pyrrha have children snrk (thefallenmaiden)


Jaune was depressingly used to that comment. Honestly, years and children later, he still sometimes wondered what Pyrrha saw in him. But he always responded the same way, despite whatever doubts he harbored. “Yeah, she married down. Wana see our kids, though? They’re beautiful!”

The blond drew a wallet out, and a sheet of plastic slowly unfurled from its contents. Thirteen children beamed happily out from their individual portraits. 

clubcluelesss  asked:

because of your vlog yesterday, i'm curious, how is your hunt for a cover artist for TSC going?? have a great day, Jenna!

I haven’t been focused on that as of late. TSC was just shipped off to an editor, and I’ve been working with a character artist for individual portraits. The cover art is something I might look into next month. Ideally I wouldn’t want to start it until I at least got my first round of edits back.
Rubens Drawings: 44 Plates

Peter Paul Rubens’ gifts as an artist were as comprehensive as they were supreme. A prolific painter of illimitable resource and invention, he was a master of intellect and emotion, figure and form, color and sweep. In all his artistic endeavors, he proved himself the true heir of Renaissance art of both the North and the South, inspired by — and assimilating — the best of both. Yet he was very much a man of his time and in retrospect the most powerful, exuberant, and sensuous exponent of the Baroque style in painting.

His extraordinary drawings reflect all of these qualities but color, and in them the viewer can clearly perceive — and enjoy at leisure — the awesome range of Rubens’ genius. In this superb collection of 44 of his choicest drawings are deeply probing portraits and powerful religious and mythical scenes. His self-portrait, full of opulent and flowing forms, reaches out to us with a startling, penetrating gaze. His individual portraits of a young girl and of George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, reveal in both instances a touching sensitivity mixed with aristocratic self-possession.

Here, too, are two scenes of poignant tenderness suspended in a majestic flow of movement: one depicting the entombment of Christ; the other, Venus lamenting Adonis. The exciting “The Death of Hippolytus” and “A Battle of Greeks and Amazons” reveal Rubens’ total command of complex patterns of action and movement. These and over three dozen other works offer limitless pleasure and stimulation to all who prize and wish to study the art of drawing at its most inspired. Meticulously reproduced on fine-quality paper, and offered at a very reasonable price, this beautiful book belongs with others in your collection, reflecting the greatest achievements in Western art.

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