kradeelav

https://www.kradeelav.com


This blog is an artwork history and work in progress log. NSFW/R18 images are present.

Please use the tags and categories listed below to navigate, or the archiveto see multiple posts. For a working RSS feed, copy and paste https://kradeelav.com/diary/tegalog.cgi?mode=rss& amp; into your feed reader (delete the space). Enjoy!

全年9月1日の投稿122件]2ページ目)

2024年 この範囲を時系列順で読む この範囲をファイルに出力する

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old fe: three houses art, filed under #fegen
byleth/jeritza is a gift to ConcernedCactus ~  I was delighted to see that Nagamas (FE secret santa) was still going after I took a break from the series and couldn’t resist jumping back in.

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replaying #fetellius

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CREATION MYTHS (2019)
Rowan Grover (author), kradeelav (artist)

Rowan commissioned me to draw his #original post-apocalyptic story with three archetypical monsters-turned friends who had chance meetings up until the end of time itself. Featured in an anthology. Was a pleasure working with Rowan and had a ton of fun bouncing ideas around with him; see below for concept art.

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LUCID - a #hellsing zine

first zine completed, and being prepped for printing. happy to send this one off given it was started August (2019) and has a lot of ghosts with it. I was listening to an old favorite song from the soundtrack of the Brave Little Toaster and it makes me think about the type of horror that I love. Not as a genre, but the undercurrent you sometimes sense in certain media. Not even as a scene, scare, plot beat, or tacky symbolism – it’s a subtle peculiar lived-in horror of the id that’s most potent through poetry or lyrics. That sing-song (silent scream) aching familiarity you sometimes feel in your bones and makes old skeletons rattle.

That movie and hellsing has a lot in common there.

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:)c (don't look at me - nsfw under the cut)
#zihark

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last #ironcrown /GBN post when i officially scrapped the latter.
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nsfw under the cut
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old #hellsing strip.

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tormod & #zihark in senri kita's style
filed under #fetellius

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( "samecharacter" hashtag meme on twitter, 2020)

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remnants of #ironcrown doodles
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#original leather-centric work

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part of a #ironcrown scene i started coloring and never finished

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even after everything, i was drawing these two.
#zihark

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abandoned piece for a #hellsing doujin i wanted to do. 2020 or so?

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giftwork of MoltenGoldArt ‘s Ila and @SpottyJaguar‘s Idris ~ had fun with these two.

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i keep finding random #ironcrown smut crackships lol

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more nsfw images under the cut

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some of the better #ironcrown patreon posts (back when I had one)

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last few #ironcrown / 'good, bad, nasty' smut artworks
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(posting some tips about art i answered back on the NSFW blog)

ANONYMOUS: Any tips on drawing leather? Yours always looks so realistically shiny

A: Thank you! Honestly feel like I only cracked that code in the last few weeks; it's absolutely much trickier than it looks at first glance. A few tips that helped recently:
- Have an idea where the light source is in the picture, likewise where ridges/creases tend to build up. It doesn't need to be an exact science, but it'll give a sense of consistency (for example, underlighting versus side-lighting versus above will all change how creases look - and they tend to build up around joints, the crotch, and/or if it's folded up in places.)

- I tend to color it all in black, and then go in with an eraser and "draw" out the highlights/creases organically. Much less time consuming.

-Spend the time familiarizing yourself with how it feels in real-life, for example to see if your style works better with textures added or not. if you don't have access to a jacket or gear, movies are a decent option. (ironically the last Tom of Finland biopic was an *excellent* example for research not to mention a deeply moving piece of art on the subculture.) (... there are also, ahem, certain online stores and lifestyle photographers that have a proliferation of handy pictures, if definitely NSFW. :v)
- spend time checking out how different artists do it. I render leather differently than say, how @/kmclaude (twitter), the aforementioned Tom of Finland, @/hawklewds (twitter), or other JP artists do - there's a myriad of delicious takes, and no wrong way. Wishing you the best!

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(posting some tips about art i answered back on the NSFW blog)

ANONYMOUS: Do you use references for your nsfw art? If not, how do you get two characters to look right in a nasty setting?

A: "references", snerk. (I actually don't with erotic art, but had to grin at that. :>)
That's a really good question, though - and appreciate the ask! Personally have done live figure drawing (and would heartily recommend that at least in some portion of time in any artist's training), though most of that happened a long time ago.

Interestingly I would say that studying animation and drawing_comics_ as a generality has helped me the most to "get them to look right" - once when an artist has a basic handle on anatomy, it's almost more important to get the gestural, posing, and body language part right. Clear body language has always been one of my top priorities - Walt Stanchfield's two "Drawn to Life" books are the masterclass on this. Read those books, if nothing else.

Now, to be perfectly blunt, I also think kink in general has a lot to teach here.
it's many things to many different people - but very often it's about power dynamics, power play, who controls the scene, how the sub follows, introducing tools/toys/props - but always, always, keeping the magnetic charge the whole way. Even vanilla erotica has some of this to an extent as - thank god - every individual is different and is going to approach intimacy with their own preferences.

However, with kink, by getting into the id and mind of the characters (like an actor) and recognizing the physical cues of someone who controls the moment - the tilt of an observant head, whether they (as a character) prefer subs who kneel (what kind of kneeling? there's plenty. are they a brat? how?), do you use the camera angles to show it from the dom's point of view (or not)? are you going for a rom-com silly- intimate angle or the energy of a hard scene?  you get a *lot* of mileage. And, with a bit of elbow grease - get to breathe life in them. Good luck.

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guess who made an appearance again~
#fetellius #zihark

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I really wanted to draw KM CLAUDE‘s Tielfer with sacrilegious disney villain vibes (because wow, mood) – enjoy, padre. see his work here

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+ an extra gift
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#hellsing is a very serious show about a traumatized vampire and his vampire hunter master, clearly.

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byleth/hubert ships
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three houses art aka #fegen since i was into hubert for a hot sec. bonus:

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crops from the #ironcrown - verse R18 aborted zine, 'the good, the bad, the nasty'. in a time i wasn't having a lot of fun with my art, these were the pieces i most enjoyed.

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more NSFW images below the cut

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really started to get a name for myself with #hellsing smut on twitter around 2019 or so. short lived, but learned a lot stylistically.
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i played a little longer with diane/hardin (#ironcrown characters) in a r18 doujinshi i wanted to do called 'the good, the bad, the nasty' ... it didn't happen but it was the first real foray into smutty zines.
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if *i’m* the one to think of black materia as a ball gag first, I’m going to be severely disappointed in y’all.

ff7, filed under #mscfanart

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last #ironcrown -specific smut doodles. i played a little more with diane/hardin afterwards as its own thing, though.
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“I don’t want to see you with boys, Diane. I don’t share well. If you’re with me, you’re mine.” he murmurs, and she shudders under the weight of his voice.

a scene from a R18 fanfic from the skilled and kind aspareme, #ironcrown - verse. fic below.


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Because bad ideas are best shared with good company…Absolute filth below the cut, which is funny because nobody even gets naked. You have been warned.I don’t own any of this, and am infinitely grateful to @notkrad for letting me write awful things with her awesome characters. Thanks for sharing the sandbox!

Heads up: generalized power-play

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“We must be careful, little miss, or we’ll be caught. You have to be so quiet, Diane. So… so quiet. Will you do precisely what I tell you to, Diane, exactly when I tell you to do it?”

His gloved hand cradles her chin; the joint of his thumb bends at the delicate bone of her jaw, and her head is tilted up to accommodate it. It isn’t comfortable. She couldn’t care less, because his lips are at her ear, and his voice is saying the things she’s only dared dream of.

She knows she’s probably being played; nobody wants nothing from her, and she’s been told that bad boys only want one thing from pretty girls. With her mousy brown hair she’s more pigeon than peacock and she knows it, so it’s not like he’s after her for her looks.

And he isn’t a bad boy, anyways.

Captain Hardin is a man — a dangerous man — and she knows he’s killed people. She doesn’t know if they were all on Father’s orders, either. It ought to disgust her. It will one day. But for now all she wants is for him to keep doing…

Whatever it is he’s doing to her pulse.

It thuds in her ears, a mortal instrument. She wonders if he’s close enough to see it at her throat.

“Yes”, she whispers, and the grip tightens a little.

“I thought I told you to be quiet, Diane.”

He drawls her name into her ear, and she can’t help but let a little moan escape. They’re tucked away into an empty office that’s fallen into disuse. It’s dark here, and it’s got a heavy door; she knows they can’t be heard over the music coming down the hallway.

But Hardin sounds serious. His grip on her jaw certainly is.

She shivers helplessly in his grasp, but doesn’t apologies. She’s got to be quiet. He told her so, and she’s always been told to trust her security detail implicitly.

“There’s my little miss”, he purrs, and the shivers turn into quakes trembling down her thighs. Pinned apart as she is, Diane knows he can feel her tremble. Her back is to the door, and her legs are forced wide over his thigh; her wrists are pinned above her head by one of his hands, and she is altogether helpless. The ballgown’s skirts are bunched around her hips, and she’s so aroused it almost hurts to think.

She knows she ought to feel bad about it, but doesn’t. She’ll worry about it later, because —

“You were bold the last time, little miss, and it was charming. I enjoy an ingenue, especially the sort that come crawling through my window at night.” He gives her a cold once-over, as though assessing something he was considering purchasing. Searching for flaws, maybe, or otherwise cataloguing points of interest. He stares at her, and she feels… bared.

Diane’s wearing three layers and he makes her feel naked.

She realizes to her absolute horror that she’s wet at the same time that he lifts his leg. The muscle bunches under the black trousers of his formal dress uniform, and she lifts precariously up on to her toes.

Her legs have fallen open, and now she must rest her full weight onto his thigh. She bites her lip against the cry that wants to escape. She feels the heat of his leg through her silk knickers, and knows she’s making a mess.

She’s mortified, cheeks flushing and eyes prickling with sudden tears — even as Hardin makes a noise of appreciation in the back of his throat.

“There there, little miss. Shh, that’s enough. No need for these”, he murmurs, thumbing away an errant droplet. “I’ve got you, Diane. I’ll take care of everything. I’ll make sure we’re not discovered, little miss. All you have to do is trust me, absolutely. Can you do that? Will you do that for me?”
Pinned as she is, she can only nod.

She knows it’s a bad idea even as she does it.

It won’t stop her, though. She wants him. Strong, commanding… and his voice can be so warm with pride, approval, interest.

Hardin cares… or can fake it convincingly. She can’t make up her mind which, and it clearly doesn’t matter. He’s here with her now, and she’s pragmatic enough to take what she can get.

It isn’t her brain calling the shots today anyways.

“Very good, little miss. Now, here are the rules. You will obey them to the letter, and they are non-negotiable. If you are well-behaved, this… can continue. If you are disobedient, it stops immediately. Do you understand? You tell no-one, and you follow the rules.”

She thinks of her father, of his growing collection of empty bottles and conspiracy theories. Diane isn’t delighted at the idea of him finding out that she and Hardin have… anticipated something that might not happen in the first place. It’s not like she doesn’t know why princesses are valuable, but she resolves to be selfish and steal a little something of her own.

She nods.

Hardin smiles, but his eyes stay cold. They look like chips of February skies, when the blue is clear and lethal. She has trouble holding his gaze, and drops hers after a second or two. With her chin held up as it is, it’s a subtle submission. He sees it nevertheless, and she’s rewarded with a stroke of his thumb up the blade of her jaw to her chin and back up. The slide of silk against her skin is decadent, and she likes it more than she should.

“I don’t want to see you with boys, Diane. I don’t share well. If you’re with me, you’re mine”, he murmurs, and she shudders under the weight of his voice. He sounds possessive, and she wants to be wanted back.

She nods, and he continues.

“And I love an ingenue as much as the next man, but if we’re to do this, I’ll be calling the shots. No more climbing through windows unannounced, little miss. I’ll let you know the nights you can come. When it’s safe for you to come.”

She flushes with dull mortification; she really had managed to get into his room, and had made rather a mess of her confession. But the kiss he’d given her had been worth it, even if she’d been deliriously happy and sickeningly anxious by turns the rest of the night.

You’re beautiful, you know”, he murmurs, and she feels her cheeks burn again. She’s never been called beautiful until him, and she’s discovering that she quite enjoys it.

“Tawny, as many shades as a mountain cat; you make it hard for me to control myself. I’ll never put you — us — at risk, little miss, but I like to hunt. Do you understand?” His hand gentles on her jawline, but his eyes don’t soften.

He’s always seemed capable of reading her like an open book, but she’s never felt flayed open like this before. He knows her worst impulses, sees what she tries to hide as though she’d painted it orange.

And he’s still here, with her.

So she does trust him, and nods. She knows that even now, she mustn’t make a sound. He must be pleased by that, because he shifts the hand holding her jaw down to the place where his thigh meets… her.

“Good. Then I’ll take what’s mine when inclination and opportunity strike. Any objections, little miss?”

The way she’s straddling him stretches the silk over her mound. His longest finger strokes over the damp fabric, tracing every rounded contour with a marksman’s precision. It’s the first time anyone’s touched her like this, and she can’t help it. She moans.

His eyes narrow, and that is the only indication he gives her before he snaps his thigh up. She’s truly on tiptoe now. She rides his thigh, hips squirming for purchase and finding only a keen and wild darkness of sensation.

Hardin’s small moue of disappointment makes her want to cry. She didn’t mean it. She doesn’t want him to go, so she shuts her mouth and lowers her eyes. He must know she’s contrite, because he keeps stroking her through the silk, until she’s flushed and panting silently for air.

“You’ll learn, little miss. You’ll learn. But what am I to do with you until you do, hm? And when I asked you so nicely, too. Your punishment, little miss…” he pauses, considering, until his eyes light with something hungry.

His thigh disappears at the same time as his hand.

She lands flat on her feet all of a sudden, and wobbles. Now released from the pressure, the heat between her legs throbs. She can feel her pulse with every thud, a strange ache that makes her skin feel too tight around the edges.

“Your underwear, Diane”, he orders, and it is an order. He’s even got his hand out; his face is dark with promise and something that looks darker than lust and more intense than desire. She trembles under his gaze, and helpless — unwilling — to resist, she does as she’s told.

When she hands them over with a trembling hand, she is mortified to see how wet they are. She can smell iodine and something organic, a richness and tang, like seaweed and brine. She realizes with a start that it’s her, and her cheeks flame.

He tucks the fabric into the inside breast pocket of his suit, and Diane realizes she’s not getting them back any time soon.

Hardin smiles, and brings his lips to her ear. “Until I give you these back, Diane… you don’t get to wear any. To make sure you remember, hmm, little miss?”

She is helpless to resist. She’ll give him whatever he wants to have him to herself. It’s reckless, and dangerous, but she wants to hear him call her sweet things again, wants to see that look of lust, of haughty assessment and cruel intentions.

She ought to hate it, but can’t deny the effect it has on her. She wants him to make her feel, even if it’s not right or good or smart.

Diane nods, barely capable of sucking in a breath.

“Good girl”, Hardin drawls against the soft skin of her jaw, at the tender place where it meets her ear, and Diane shudders once, hard, and feels her inner thighs go slick.

She sags against the doorway, blown as a deer chased by wolves, and he watches her with the same predatory interest. It’s not like she’s unaware of the picture she makes; tousled and rumpled and well-used, for all that he barely touched her.

She feels her lack of undergarments acutely.

“We should return, little miss, or you’ll be asked after. I’ll leave first; you clean yourself up and follow when you’re ready. If we’re challenged — you felt self-conscious and retreated for some privacy. I noticed you missing and went after you. Do you understand?”

Though their assignation is clearly over, she finds it hard to speak. She nods instead, and a smile blooms on his face. This time when he cradles her jaw, his hand is gentle.

“There’s my little miss.” She feels lighter than air, and knows she’s got a stupid dreamy smile on her face. He steps around her, hand on the door knob, and then pauses. She shifts closer to him, aching for another taste of him. His gaze rakes over her, head to toes and back. She likes the way he looks at her, the quiet way he wears command.

“Oh, and Diane?” His hand cups between her thighs, a firm and possessive grip. He doesn’t ask permission; she doesn’t exactly mind. She does, however, stay quiet.

“The next time, I want you bare.” The thought of tender, bare flesh is so shockingly arousing that her breath catches.

He meets her gaze and the cruel slash of his mouth widens into something almost warm. “Enjoy the party, little miss”, he whispers into her ear, and slips out of the room before she can do anything else. Alone in the dark room, she sucks in a whooping breath, and lets it out through her teeth in a sibilant hiss.

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