KiroSveta

Fan art of Rean Schwarzer, Towa Herschel, and Celine from Trails of Cold Steel. A parody of the Tintin "Captain, it's Wednesday" meme. Rean says "What a week, huh?" while Towa responds "Rean, it's Wednesday." Celine is drinking beer in the corner

Current Mood

#TrailsOfColdSteel #art 🌟

recharging ⚡

A digital drawing of one of those drawing tutorials that says 'don't do this, do this.' The drawing is of an almost naked middle-aged man doing a flying kick. The 'Don't do this' one has a bunch of areas circled and a cross under it. The 'Do this' one is exactly the same but without the circles and a tick instead of a cross. The text reads 'Needlessly adding red circles will ruin your art' and a smaller bit of text at the bottom reads 'Bonus tip! Add a tick under all your art so people think you did it right.'

#3157 A helpful tutorial

When people look up the word ‘himbo’ there’ll be a picture of this man, or something like him; whether or not the small antlers protruding from his shaven side and soft deer ears exclude him is your call, but in every other sense he fulfils the definition. Observe the way he sits, legs totally unpoised, one folded before him, the other behind, with his arms propping him up. This man is no threat, his beef cake physique might suggest the potential but with that body language, in nothing but gym shorts and socks, the thought of pouncing upon anyone has not crossed his mind, indeed not much has crossed his mind at all. Who knows what he is blushing up at to his right, with doughy eyes, a goofy smile and a vaguely crimped brow (because after all he’s always a little confused); some lovely being or perhaps a lot of good food? Whatever it is, he's interpreting it in soft feelings and warm colours since syllables are a little out of range. Indeed somewhere behind his giant tits there beats a heart of gold, Behind that stray hair falling over his forehead sits a nice spaciousness cranium, And the packaging speaks for itself. Very much the epitome of the deerbros I draw.

Lights are on,
And to be fair, someone is home, but they’re playing the hamster dance really loudly and can’t hear you.

#art #fantasy #Deerbros #sketch

illustration of nausicaa standing by an ohmu

Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind

Sometimes you just gotta doodle your friend's OC getting terrorised by your own OC, it happens to the best of us.
But tbf, it's everything that @crossroadart.bsky.social's Theo deserves.

A four-panel comic strip. In the first panel we see Mira, a small bandana-clad girl, standing proud at the bow of a small row-boat splashing through the calm waters of the ocean. Behind her Zig, a rope-golem, dutifully rows. SPLOOSH! All of a sudden a giant purple, tentacled beast erupts from the water! Mira and Zig leap in shock! But Mira has a plan! Abandon ship! She leaps over the opposite edge of the boat, pointing authoritatively as Zig leans forward to stop her. We then cut to reality where a very muddy Mira leaps from a high-hanging flower pot down into the arms of her surprised dad Pero. Zig, still in the flower pot, reaches down in an attempt to grab her, their other hand holding onto a wooden spoon.

My quaint fantasy world of Avonvale has just been quietly simmering in the back of my mind for a while. So when I started making newsletter comics it seemed right to give it a whimsical little outlet. Anywho, here's Mira having a perfectly sensible time.

Wanted to paint this dog

This man is disgustingly pretty. Alarmingly even. What with the sharp jaw line and shoulders length the hair falling about the lines of his neck before his muscular shoulders. No one would blame you for being so startled by his very fey countenance that you resolved to hit him with your car; in fact you wouldn't be the first. It's not that he’s a bad man, he’s just not a very clever one, and hasn’t ever clocked that it's not that his antlers are making people assume he’s some roe buck, and thus startling them into a defensive reaction, but more the fact that he is neighked (forgive the spelling) and only confusing matters with his statuesque physique. When people give a police report on the adonis wondering through the woods, they won't even think to mention the doe ears, they never noticed them. Along side finding some clothes that do more for modesty that whatever that sarong is that he is currently tying around his waist, he might consider that when he looks through his brow at people with those come hither eyes, over that slightly rugged crook in his nose, he’s prompting a certain fight or flight response, and asking to eat a windscreen. Again.

He has no idea how much he is startling the bird watchers.

#art #fantasy #Deerbros #sketch

Happy Ace Week! 🖤🩶🤍💜

More Regular Man Mega Starmie
Pokemon is so silly sometimes

A digitally-painted study of a Norman Rockwell piece. In a pale yellow room, standing atop mottled green rug around brown wood furniture and floorboards stands Kay. He wears a red tartan shirt tucked into crumpled blue jeans, turned up over white socks and brown loafers. This contrasts with the soft, shimmering fabric of the layered, ruffled ball gown he holds up to his body, staring at his reflection in a full-length mirror. We see his face in the reflection, a conflicted look of longing lingers on it.

It has been drop-kicked to my attention (thanks @crossroadart.bsky.social) that art is better posted here one image at a time thereby allowing people to, you know, actually see it. So here's Kay once again pondering his life choices in the style of Norman Rockwell.

Parsnip Supplement ~ Issue 5 ~ 31-10-2025 31st October 2025 Previous Issue ...

This comic, and other somewhat spooky happenings, can be found in this month's not-quite-a-newsletter newsletter! www.crispyparsnips.com/2025/10/pars...

In a dark, red-tinted room, Jay in antiquated garb leans back in a wing-back chair silhouetted against a roaring fire. Decanting a glass of wine he looks up at the viewer, smiling laconically. Jay: Oh, hello. Care to partake in some wine? It is rather a... full-bodied vintage. In the following panel Jay rears up to us, wine glass in hand, mouth agape to show vampiric incisors. They stare down at us, cackling menacingly. Jay: Which is more than can be said about where it came from! Muhahahaha! Snap back to reality, Jay's boyfriend Kay walks in and picks up the decanter, looking at it incredulously, somewhat undercutting Jay's intended spooky tone. Kay: You don't like wine. Jay: Uh-huh~ It's not wine, it's blood. Kay: ...What kind? Jay: Blackcurrant.

Tis the season to be spooky and such. So here's Jay getting a little decadent with it.

The sun peeks through the curtain of a blue-purple bedroom, it's blue-haired, pink-pajama'd occupant Malakhi gurgling in bed as it shines directly onto his face. CRASH! BANG! SMASH! Other such onomatopoeia are heard outside the room as Malakhi reluctantly begins to struggle upright. "Well, Emm's awake. Guess I'd better get up..." he relents. On his bedside table his phone begins to shine and vibrate. Beep. Beep. Beep. A now very animate and angry Malakhi leans over the phone, eyes-wide with rage, and shouts at it 'SHUT UP!'. As Mal turns back to being wrapped deeper in his quilt, we hear the burbling 'BLLP BLLP' of his phone half-submerged in a glass of water.

Catching up posting old newsletter comics, here's Mal being characteristically compliant with external instruction.

It's 4 little pictures of Regular Man Mega Starmie, one with him carrying a briefcase, another of him petting a fidough, the third is him doing overtime at the normal human company he works at, and the 4th is Regular Man Mega Starmie trying to catch his baby Staryu

It's Regular Man Mega Starmie!
He's just a regular man, with a normal job, a kid and a dog. So normal.

Silver sisters 🌕✨

[ #hades #hadesgame #art ]

first flower of winter ✨️

A drawing of Beau (they/them), one of the Fatal Flaw crew. Beau is surrounded by various stickers of themself in chibi style, and a bright background of orange, red, yellow and a rainbow DDR style dance course. The words "Perfect Combo!" and "WOW FANTASTIC BABY~" are also in the background

Beau hits the field with colour and enthusiasm! As they approach everything in life. The only thing they're missing is their bestie Nix, and then life is right. 🌈

A digitally-painted study of a Norman Rockwell piece. In a pale yellow room, standing atop mottled green rug around brown wood furniture and floorboards stands Kay. He wears a red tartan shirt tucked into crumpled blue jeans, turned up over white socks and brown loafers. This contrasts with the soft, shimmering fabric of the layered, ruffled ball gown he holds up to his body, staring at his reflection in a full-length mirror. We see his face in the reflection, a conflicted look of longing lingers on it.

A side-by-side comparison between the original Norman Rockwell painting and the study. In the original a young lady stands in the place of Kay.

Sometimes a master study perfectly intertwines with your ongoing OC obsession. So here's Norman Rockwell enabling me by giving a young Kay some formative experiences. You'll get there, bud.

On a warm, sunlit afternoon in an ancient Greek-styled city, a stout dwarven craftsman Badruk leans upon an anvil with a hammer. His braided beard winds between golden rings and cascades over a rune-embossed leather apron, holding a variety of tools and bags. A collapsible, bronze shield leans against the anvil reflecting the roaring fire from the furnace behind. Behind that a market place bustles with activity, covering the steps leading into a grand column-adorned stone temple.

Amidst the smoke-filled ruins of an ancient Greek-styled city, a stout dwarven Barbarian rages wildly toward the viewer. Bare-chested with tattered leather skirt and cuffs, he steps forward, arms pinned back as if ready to lunge. Around him lie the crumbling rock and splintered wood of a broken blacksmith's forge and market square. Behind all this crumbles the roof and columns of a great stone temple, enshrouded in plumes of smoke matching the tumultuously orange sky.

Was commissioned to draw @darksunrebel.bsky.social's happy dwarf-dad Badruk for an Odyssey campaign. Things, it seems, took a turn.

Frustrated little dude gripping a pencil saying “how do I pack this down into something I can actually share?” While swirling rainbows labeled “INFINITE POTENTIAL” float around them. Little dude frowns at a tiny grey box, exclaiming “all that work for THIS?!” Little dude shoves the grey box into another little guy’s hands; Frowning, stomping off, and saying “Here you go, I made this, it sucks.” Second little dude cracks open the box, swirling rainbows project out onto their face. Second little dude stares in awe at all the swirling rainbows now floating around them.

Sometimes we’re unsatisfied with a thing we made because when it only existed in our head, we saw all the things it could have been and when it’s done we know all the things that it isn’t, but we can’t see the way it expands into a million new things when someone else unpacks it in their head. 🖊️🦑

The dusk was setting over an Irish coast, and from the sea a scrawny fisher waded through the water and pushef a his row boat up onto the beach. If he’s ever seen better days then little about his countenance suggests they have been recent. Something about him, possibly his small stature that fails to fill his baggy fishermen knitwear, his fluffy brown hair, the prickles on his chin that couldn’t grow a bread but regardless needed a shave, or possibly his large sad doey eyes, suggested he was in his late twenties, however the lines on his face age him considerably. The only fragment of colour that seems to be about him, was his belt; a woven band of blue, red and white, that in itself is hardly noticeable. His name is Morgan, though no one ever asked. Leaving his boat, he walked up the grass with his merger catch of fish in a wooden pail and a net that was in as miserable a state as he is, with holes that need mending. He examined and bundled up the sad excuse of a net when he notices something in his peripheral and stared in some bewilderment. There were people on what should’ve been, and always had been, an unfrequented and lonely beach. They were dancing on the wet sand. After a slightly longer examination he saw that they were also not human. They were clan of beings with speckled skin in shades of browns, greys, creams and reds, all plump and naked but for the pelts of seal tails that were flung over their shoulders or tied around their waists. A few of the beings are pealing their legs out of the pelt of seal tails; they noticed him with a look of confusion that matched his own.

‘On The Rocks’
Page 1/31
It Begins✨

I’ll b sharing 31 pages of this comic over #mermay & June
(the last 7 pages r available to $3+ patrons if u’r interested in the whole comic 🦭❤️)
www.patreon.com/c/crossroadart

*This post will gradually become a thread for the 31 pages
#ontherocks #mermay2025 #OCs

Annoyed frog hitching a ride

MY BOY (gender neutral)!! I still love this so much, thank you!! 💜

Video, you say? Well here's a little animation I made earlier this year of m'friend KiroSveta's frog character Max, upon learning that they can polymorph into a wolf (albeit they still look rather like a frog).

A painting with a nostalgic feeling of two young men, in the rain at dusk, walking down a street with their backs to the viewer.  Above them the clouds are purple and fringed with the orange of a setting sun. Power lines cross above the street between the dark suburban house and the road is so slick with rain that it ripples and reflects the street lights and the young men. The shorter young man, Theo, is offering the other, Miles, some chips from a packet. They are both soaking wet and don’t seem to care.

Quote repost some quiet art if u like 🪶

***
Times seem to be going at a gentler pace here for now,
Gonna share a piece to match the tone and enjoy it while it lasts.

#art #henchmensguide

The cover for my comic called ‘On The Rocks’, On it a small, thin, man is sinking in a curl of bubbles, down into the sea, weighed down by his wool jumper with his auburn hair floating in the aqua water. As he descends he looks out before him, with with bewildered regard at a large, dark brown, male selkie that is swimming by him, staring back with a stoic and mildly curious gaze.

This Irish fisher is named Morgan. He is thin, with brown scruffy hair, a crooked nose, tired eyes and an alarmed expression because he has been put into a selkie pelt and now his legs are a seals tail. He lays flat on his back, with his arms either side him as if he is trying to press himself into the ground to get away from his own seal tail that is arched up above him and drips onto him.

A large male selkie, brown in colour with the patterns of a seal, who’s hair is styled in long dark dreadlocks, sits up to his waist in the shallow water of the ocean shore trying to have a moments peace. He won’t be getting it though, and he knows it. There is a soft sound of paddling and it is getting closer. He begrudgingly opens one eye and observes the selkie pup swimming towards him, its head only just floating above the surface as is swims towards him. Selkie pups are small white fluffy mer-being, who’s brain cells huddle together for warmth. They are insufferable, attention seeking cotton balls and, for reasons best understood by the cotton balls, they adore him. This one, like all the rest of its kind, is gleefully intent on his personal space.

Hey! Happy mermay! And thank you for the art share 👹

I’m about to start sharing my selkie comic for mermay (like, starting tonight 😬😂) so I may share art relevant to them since they’re all I’m thinking about right now 😂

The dusk was setting over an Irish coast, and from the sea a scrawny fisher waded through the water and pushef a his row boat up onto the beach. If he’s ever seen better days then little about his countenance suggests they have been recent. Something about him, possibly his small stature that fails to fill his baggy fishermen knitwear, his fluffy brown hair, the prickles on his chin that couldn’t grow a bread but regardless needed a shave, or possibly his large sad doey eyes, suggested he was in his late twenties, however the lines on his face age him considerably. The only fragment of colour that seems to be about him, was his belt; a woven band of blue, red and white, that in itself is hardly noticeable. His name is Morgan, though no one ever asked.

Leaving his boat, he walked up the grass with his merger catch of fish in a wooden pail and a net that was in as miserable a state as he is, with holes that need mending.

He examined and bundled up the sad excuse of a net when he notices something in his peripheral and stared in some bewilderment.

There were people on what should’ve been, and always had been, an unfrequented and lonely beach. They were dancing on the wet sand. After a slightly longer examination he saw that they were also not human. They were clan of beings with speckled skin in shades of browns, greys, creams and reds, all plump and naked but for the pelts of seal tails that were flung over their shoulders or tied around their waists. A few of the beings are pealing their legs out of the pelt of seal tails; they noticed him with a look of confusion that matched his own.

‘On The Rocks’
Page 1/31
It Begins✨

I’ll b sharing 31 pages of this comic over #mermay & June
(the last 7 pages r available to $3+ patrons if u’r interested in the whole comic 🦭❤️)
www.patreon.com/c/crossroadart

*This post will gradually become a thread for the 31 pages
#ontherocks #mermay2025 #OCs