look at them they are my sons

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Character design of some families in my comic.
I absolutely love designing families!! It’s fun to create characters out of a few basic prompts (family resemblances), while keeping them individual. How I do it is that I start with the base character, identify their features, and remix them in various ways for their relatives
(for the deCordobas, I started with Zeynel, who has eyelids that curve downwards, and a generally sensual (romantic?) look. Then I designed his parents - Efraim is the one with the downwards eyelids,the long face, and… well, he’s his son’s father. Zeyneb is the one who provided the dark eyes and the sensuality. Once I figured them out it’s easier to design the siblings, and move backwards to the previous generation.)

Anyway genetics is fun and wild.

BONUS:
Here are everyone’s silhouettes since I am a sucker for that kind of thing

Grateful (ChoicesCreates #31, TC&TF)

Grateful
By Misha

Disclaimer- Not mine. I’m just borrowing them for a little while and will return them when I am finished.

Author’s Notes- This is my entry for ChoicesCreates31: Gratitude. It’s an expanded, slightly changed look at Luther’s death scene in Chapter Sixteen. It’s one of my favorite scenes and I wanted to give a glimpse into Diavolos’s mind.

Pairing- Kenna/Diavolos

Rating- PG-13

Summary- Diavolos reflects on his feelings towards his father.

Words- 820

“Don’t think I won’t put you down for this, you ungrateful fool,” Luther sneered, slashing his sword at his eldest son.

Diavolos easily dodged his father’s blows. Luther might have once been the most skilled warrior in the Five Kingdoms, but he had long since handed that title to his son.

As Diavolos prepared to take down his father, he considered his words. Or rather one of them. Ungrateful.  

“You’re wrong, Father, I’m very grateful.” Diavolos corrected, deflecting another of his father’s blows with a casual swing of his sword.

“Aaah,” Luther cried, stumbling backward.

“I’m grateful for those few years before Mother died when you were a real father to me…” Diavolos continued, blocking another attempt at a blow and then delivering a kick to his father’s side that knocked him down.

The memories were fuzzy, but he could still remember the way Luther had once laughed and the way he would take time to wrestle with Diavolos. He remembered his father setting him on the back of a horse and being so proud when Diavolos was able to take the reins by himself.

“Oooff.”

“I’m grateful that your neglect and cruelty pushed me to become the formidable warrior I am today.” Diavolos continued, moving on from the pleasant memories to the not so pleasant.

He thought of the way he had forced himself to become the best warrior he could, sure that that was the way to win his father’s love and approval. He thought of how good it had felt when his father had finally acknowledged him, but also how he had soon learned it would never be enough. He thought to the way he had dedicated himself to the cause, convinced that he could never be more than a weapon.

It was hard to regret his training and discipline though because he truly had excelled on the field of battle. He might have become a soldier to impress his father, but it had become more than that, and he had forged bonds that had nothing to do with his father. However, more importantly, it was the path that had lead him here to this moment, to Kenna.

Luther swung at him then, but Diavolos stopped him, disarming his father with a casual twist. It really wasn’t much of a fight, he mused. Of course, his father was nearly thirty years his senior and desperate, while Diavolos was in prime physical condition and he had the knowledge that for once he was on the side of right. More than that, he knew there was no way he could let his father harm Kenna. Not now, not ever.

“But mostly, I’m just grateful that I’m the one who will be your undoing,” Diavolos finished, resting his blade against his father’s neck.

He felt like his whole life had been leading up to this moment. He had finally realized who he was without his father, that he was more than Luther’s shadow, more than just a weapon for his father to use and abuse. It was time for him to become his own man, to stop letting his father dictate his actions and beliefs.

To his surprise, his father smiled. “Well, well… I  wondered if you would ever scrounge up the courage to challenge me. I’m proud of you, my son.”

Diavolos could hear the sincerity in his father’s voice. He knew his father truly was proud of him, as twisted as it might seem to an outsider. But Luther Nevrakis had never been a typical man, he had his own way of viewing the world, and for him perhaps this was the most fitting end.

Diavolos felt another rush of gratitude, suddenly thankful that he had been shown a different light and no longer viewed the world the way his father did.

“Thank you, Father,” he said with a small smile before he swung his word and cleanly severed his father’s head.

As his father’s body dropped to the floor, Diavolos turned his attention to Kenna and her injured shoulder. “Are you alright?” He asked, helping her to her feet.

She smiled slightly, “I’ll be fine.” She looked at him carefully. “What about you?”

“I’m fine,” he told her, “I think, in a weird way this is what he wanted.” Kenna nodded and then stepped closer to him, putting her hand on his face.

“Thank you,” she told him and then pressed her lips to his.

Diavolos resisted the urge to deepen the kiss, remembering her injured shoulder. Instead, he cupped her face. “Anytime,” he assured her, “Now let’s go get that shoulder looked at.”

He carefully lifted her into his arms, noting how right it felt to hold her like that, and headed down the hall. As Diavolos left the throne room, and his father’s body, without a second glance, he thought of the thing that he was most grateful for: the chance to love this woman.

-          End

shipping your own OCs

shipping one of your OCs with 4 other OCs and not knowing which pair should be canon

pfffbfbbbttbtt

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What’s devastating is that these are two people who loved each other, who were best friends, who had a history together. And after losing everyone, his killer turned out to be Damien. And that’s why, even now, as heads of the Ego Table, both Dark and Wilford respect one another. They were both driven into madness and vengeance – and the only thing that remains is them and a primary objective.

Lance looks like he’s waiting for Keith to laugh at a really terrible joke.

A little fun clothes study using Emilio & Ivan Martinez as reference. Tried to stay away from drawing any more VLD fanart, but NOPE, my brain wasn’t having any of that. I’m well and truly stuck with these dorks.

I’m not a Klance shipper, I like em better in this very platonic bromance but whatever floats your boat is cool.

Edit: Rebumped it with a texture and some cleanup!

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Can you believe I stopped in the middle of a serious thing just to draw this bullshit because honestly I can’t

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I love how Jon repeats what Damian said to him in the second panel. Even though he bickers with him and they fight a lot, Jon does listen to what Damian says and takes his words to heart. I love that about their relationship. They act like they don’t get along but in the end, there is this kind of grudging respect between the two of them. It’s great and I honestly can’t wait for them to become real friends.