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pensmenagerie · 2 months ago

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So uh we dug this thing up in our yard a couple of days ago, oddly the garbage workers refused to take it.

Was wondering if you had any insight into what it is.

That, my friend, is what we call a Druid's Heart. They form from the roots of plants, normally trees, that grow in close proximity; usually taking about three centuries to really start coming together. If the host plants it's from aren't dead after it's fully formed, it'll start to beat like a normal heart, and transfer water and other nutrients more quickly than the normal methods. After that, the movement rates of the connecting hosts seem to increase dramatically. Think of those plant timelapse videos but without the need for the timelapse.

Once a Druid Heart starts beating, the awareness of the host plants also increases, to the point of some calling these plants sapient. They can react to stimuli with remarkable speeds, being able to move their limbs as fast as one can move their arm, some even using their smaller branches like fingers with impressive dexterity, comparable to Humans and other primates. How the plants are able to intake stimuli at this speed without a brain is currently unknown, but they have been recorded reacting to light, sound, and temperature.

The extent of their 'sapience' has been debated, the only true thing holding any research back are the lack of specimens for study. Trees are the best subjects for study given their longevity, however given that old growth is needed, the variability of conditions for hearts to form, human intervention, and the protected status of many areas where Druid Hearts would ideally form, finding specimens is rare, to say the least.

Studies have shown that the plants affected by Druid Hearts have about the same logical reasoning skills as small children, and although they cannot speak directly, we have been able to communicate with one specimen made up of Redwoods via paintings. They would grasp paintbrushes that were supplied by researchers in their branches, and drew answers to prompted questions. Somehow they understand English, and while being unable to write back, they were able to comprehend all questions asked. Given the location of the specimen used to be within close proximity a hiking trail, now abandoned, it was hypothesized that they learnt it over time through hearing conversations of hikers. This specimen, made up of five individual trees, were all prompted the same questions and, while each painting was different, the overall themes present in each one gave the impression of either a shared consciousness or hivemind for each tree. Below are the questions prompted and description of each response.

'What are you?' Painting 1-A shows five lines in a circular formation, with the impression of depth, so that the one in the center of the landscape is depicted the closest. Each line at the bottom then suddenly juts toward the center point between the five lines. Painting 1-B shows five lines radiating from a center circle, leading researchers to believe it's an aerial view. Painting 1-C shows four lines, very close to frame. This is believed to be from the perspective of the individual tree instead of the group as a whole. Painting 1-D shows five lines, but instead of being the focus they're off to the right, and then smaller figures are shown on the left side. This is believed to be a depiction of humans, either the past hikers or the current researchers. Painting 1-E shows five lines, much like Painting One, but this time they're right up at the front of the canvas. They dominate the field of view, and only taper off about halfway up. There are smaller lines at the bottom, again believed to be humans.

'How old are you?' Painting 2-A is a mess of rings, believed to be eluding to ring dating. Overlap stops us from getting a definitive number. Painting 2-B shows five lines, much like Painting 1-A, however around it are much, much taller and thicker lines. It's believed to be a drawing of the group during its 'youth' as they are the tallest trees in the immediate area at the time of writing. Painting 2-C shows five vertical lines among a landscape of horizontal ones. It's suspected that these represent the other, older trees of the area, now fallen. Painting 2-D shows horizontal lines with some substance overtop them, outstretching into the upper part of the canvas. Painting 2-E shows little vertical lines near the horizontal ones, ignoring the five taller vertical ones. Small studs at the bottom of the canvas are also present.

'Do you have a name?' -All prompts blank, suggesting that they either did not have one, or are unwilling to give that information.

'What are some of your favorite things?' Painting 4-A shows a big circle above five lines. This is believed to represent the sun Painting 4-B shows a thick, curved line going through the forefront of the canvas, with five vertical lines appearing to be in the background. It's believed to depict a nearby river. Painting 4-C shows five lines with an array of smaller lines around it. This could be interpreted as the neighboring forest. Painting 4-D shows five lines but with tiny splotches on and around them. At this time, it's conceded that they are meant to represent birds. Painting 4-E shows five lines with nothing around it. We're unsure as to what this means. Theories range from it liking itself to solitude.

'Would you like to answer more questions for us sometime?' (Note: as to not overload the specimen with questions, it was decided to end with an open prompt to garner it's feelings toward us and our being there. This felt appropriate for the time, but the answers given must be taken into consideration for the next barrage of questions.) Painting 5-A shows five vertical lines with smaller vertical lines around it. Painting 5-B Is ten vertical lines with five topped with a horizontal line, a smaller vertical line, and square. It's believed to be depicting the research team on our scaffolding and canvases. Painting 5-C is a mess of lines. However given the vigor of the act it's believed to be enthusiasm towards the aspect of painting again. Painting 5-D shows five lines with smaller lines farther away. Given the sluggish way in which it was drawn this was interpreted as sadness at the aspect of the research team leaving them. The canvas for painting 5-E was destroyed when prompted. The specimen smeared the canvas in paint, then stabbed it repeatedly with the brush and varying limbs. All following interaction with this individual has been halted for the safety of research crew.

#writing #creature concept #creature design

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sunflowerbeepwp · 2 years ago

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Drawing dump!

Drew my friend @pippyparty 's oc!!! (I like the one I did on paper more)

Finished the 3rd Stan drawing without using the touchscreen but I accidentally made the bottom part of the canvas smaller so it cut off 90% of the drawing :'/

Random oc bullshit

#friend's oc #mostly just my ocs #stan marsh #haven't rlly been drawing sp these past few days but I wanna post so take some random drawings #pippyparty pls dont eat my art . . .

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ekleipsi · 2 years ago

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long strides guide the stallion over, towards girlfriend's smaller frame. leaving her in the painting zone for but a moment longer, until he is all but to slump into her back. leaning one's weight almost entirely, upon her spine. arms drop, around femme's shoulders. digits languidly seeking a path, within overall of hers. ( maybe he'll get to unclasp her bra. ) ‘ .. at least tell me how long this one's gonna take? ’ he isn't one to complain, nor to possibly hurry kurai to finish up usually. but damn.. his girlfriend at least needed to eat and drink for once.

‘ - c'mon rai, five minute break? your food's gonna get cold at this pace. and you don't want me to eat your share now, will you? ’ oh, he's managed to unclasp her bra. nice.

/ ( kurai&ciphor ! )

--- How many hours had it been? Lost in thought, the stream of conscious train had recklessly slid away from its tracks and pulled whatever intention she'd started with along with it. Fingers were curled around the paintbrush, sitting upon stool in her studio- sacred ground, as far as she was concerned, and only known and permitted to precious few. Her brother and twin, her boyfriend, Citri...she'd not even brought Esyn here, not yet. That said, Ciphor had come over hours prior with the intention to keep her company but she'd been so trained unto the canvas, she'd barely paid him mind.

--- Barely paid anything mind. Memories and thoughts spun around like weak threads, twists of fate and a story that she couldn't tell. One that was all blurred stars and violent crows. Vultures. Was that blood? The pressure against her spine drew her from her thoughts, blinking once...twice...one more time, as crystal blues returned to her surroundings, gasping aloud as she looked at the strikingly colored piece before her.

--- Whatever it had started as...it wasn't that, any longer. Dusty browns and reds, almost as if set in a desert was marred by black...blobs. Were those dots in the upper part birds? There was nothing coherent about it, and she was quickly distracted by the way Ciphor weight pressed upon her, feeling the warmth of arms around otherwise naked flesh. Sweats and a bra, per usual while here and relaxing, skilled fingers slipped over pale skin lightly and teasingly, until she arched slightly and bit her lower lip.

--- Brush meets canvas once more, but she doesn't move it, scrutinizing it a bit longer as if confused. ' Not...too much longer? I think? Hard to say... ' the answer was lackluster, and definitely wishy washy, she knew as soon as the words had left her lips before she's tipping her head back against his chest and upon shoulder with a snort at the notion that the food would get cold...though even more offense is taken when he threatens to eat hers. ' Did you make it yourself, or did you order in? ' she grins teasingly, rolling her eyes.

--- ' Alright, alri-- ' she starts to hum out her response, before the clasp of bra is popped and the garment loosens significantly, ample chest spilling from the bottom of cloth cups. Eyes widen in shock, though it's temporary before she huffs rather loudly and quickly teases the paintbrush along his nose, painting a small streak of red over it. ' This is a crime in some countries! ' Was it? She didn't know, but surely it had to be, somewhere? With a noisy protest, back arches once more before paintbrush is set down and she instead seeks out both his hands.

--- Once found and tugged at, she lifts both of his palms and pushes them against chest until he's properly cupping breasts and glancing over her shoulder at him. ' You can hold them up yourself then, if you're so eager to get rid of the bra, you menace. ' she says softly, though voice is laden with teasing notes as she sticks tongue out at him from current position, trying to slide from the stool while keeping his hands pressed against her so they could both head to the kitchen.

#you're the only one who; drags me kicking and screaming through fast dreams | kurai & ciphor | ;#equos #THIS IS RLY CUTE?#alskdja IT'S SO #domestic and relaxed but so sweet #ciphor worrying for her #BUT ALSO BEING SO SLY AND SAUCY #U DOG CIPHOR #i love them ur honor ;;

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americxn · 4 years ago

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Hey! I love ur writing so much. I'm happy ur a part of this community<3🥰 I was wondering if I could request a super dominant reader and James March smut?? He is so dom himself that I rly crave an uno reverse card on that. like, choking him, ordering him around, him shocked af at your dominance but enjoying it immensely, maybe even caning him with his own cane?? wekdjfksjfke 🌝 thank U in advance & it's totes ok if not, mwah have a gorgeous week<3

Satiated (James Patrick March x Fem!Reader)

this is... I don’t even know what this is but it’s not good lmao, I’m so sorry; I’ll probably rewrite this but I didn’t want to leave this request waiting for too long

wordcount: 4.3k warnings: NSFW, caning, penetration, riding, choking, swearing

“I want to try something.” You announced, shouldering open the door to your shared bathroom, James’ dark eyes flicking to you in the mirror, the scars littering the strong, pale planes of his bare back like slivers of silver in the bright light. “Yes?” He drawled, turning partly to you whilst continuing to pat his face dry with the freshly laundered hand towel in his grasp; your eyes scanned the pronounced valley of his back, trailing downwards to the loose waistline of his black slacks clinging low on his hips, his braces having been pulled from his shoulders and allowed to dangle at his thighs. Stalking for him, you took one of them in your grip, pulling on it harshly and forcing his body to angle fully towards you. He surveyed you, curiously setting his dark eyes alight, the pristine towel tumbling from his grip as he blinked at you, the force with which you had maneuvered his body utterly out of character.

Your confidence faltered under his scrutiny but you spurred yourself to continue, reaching to his other hip for the elastic of the brace residing there and simultaneously tugging on both, James’ hips knocking into yours as you claimed his lips with your own. James bit back his dazed grunt of surprise as your lips connected to his, teetering slightly on his bare feet before allowing his eyes to flutter closed, surrendering himself to the determined warmth of your lips. You hummed at his softness, retreating slightly to reangle your head before crashing your mouth onto his with renewed vigour, giving him a mere moment to adjust to your new approach before prying his lips apart with your tongue and flooding into the heat of his mouth. Much to your delight, James shivered, his back arching slightly further into your body as you ran the tip of your tongue along the roof of his mouth before meeting his own tongue, answering to his demanding nudges with possessive ones of your own. You smiled onto his mouth, pleased with how he was responding and reaching to the waistband of his pants, ensuring to keep the kiss deep and claiming whilst your fingertips worked to unclip the brace dangling limply by his left thigh, then the one at his right hip. He didn’t even seem to notice, too indulged in simultaneously tasting you and silently willing you to taste him more, his velvety tongue brushing against yours with demanding fervour. Having successfully detached the accessory from his pants, you brought it up around the back of his neck, looping it around and holding it in a tight grip with one hand at the hollow of his throat. Detaching your lips from his, you swiped your lips softly across the tip of his nose in a lingering touch, smiling in anticipatory delight as you tugged firmly at the brace around his neck. James took a responding step forward. You evaded his advance by taking a step back of your own, his eyes alight with timorous curiosity. You passed him a wickedly sweet smile before turning, your grip tight on the thick elastic around his neck as you began walking casually back into the main room of your shared suit, James staggering after you, both full of apprehension and eagerness, enticed by the newfound domineering sway of your hips as you lead him from the bathroom. You dragged him over to the bed, giving the makeshift leash at his throat a harsh tug, eliciting a surprised intake of breath from him as you forced him closer to the mattress before you, the backs of his knees hitting the edge of the wooden bedframe. Releasing the brace from his neck, James’ eyes caught on it as it fell to the floor, his gaze shifting to you as you uttered a soft praise at his cooperation, his eyes darkening even further when your fingers dropped to the front of his slacks, the clinking of his belt filling the thick silence of the room as you deftly worked to undo it. James shuddered under your touch as you moved to the buttons holding his pants together, your knees bending to follow their journey down his legs until you were knelt before his feet, your hands reaching up to grip onto his pale thighs. His chin rose as you tightened your grip, his cock twitching from the confines of his cotton underwear, trying to strain for you as your nails bit into his skin. Leaning in, you placed a single lingering kiss to his navel before rising, allowing your fingers to trail up his thighs, journeying across the material of his loose fitting underwear as you stood to your full height, the corner of your mouth curving into a self satisfied smirk at the smattering of goosebumps that rose onto his skin in the wake of your fingertips, the column of his throat working as he swallowed thickly. “May I inquire as to where this has come from?” He asked feebly, his fingers itching to take ahold of your waist. When he reached out to try you batted his hands away, offering him a reproving glance from beneath your lashes. He shrunk under your disapproving scowl, his lips closing tightly. “You’re always in charge. Now it’s my turn.” This was your only explanation before you commanded him to remove his underwear, stepping back to watch as he did as instructed, a small blush rising onto his cheeks as he fully exposed himself to you, any remaining dignity stolen as you watched on, fully clothed. You took a lingering glance at his semi-hard cock as it presented itself proudly to you, his thighs tensing under your branding gaze. Dragging your eyes back up the quilted surface of his torso, you painted a lovingly unforgiving expression onto your features, bringing your face close to his. His eyes drifted shut, lips parting slightly in anticipatory invitation, wanting to feel your mouth on his once more. Instead, you took ahold of his hips, rubbing your thumbs along the swell of protruding bone. “Where’s that cane of yours? I want to put it to good use.” Unsurity swarmed gaze but he dipped his chin in an obeying nod, shuffling around your body, the prominent muscles in his ass working as he strode to the corner of the room, retrieving the cane that was resting against the far wall; a thick sheet of arousal draped over you at his unfaltering compliance, all of your attention narrowing in on the shifting of his powerful muscles beneath his tight skin as he hurried to obey you. “Thank you.” You crooned when he hastened back across the space to you, the polished dark wood of his cane gleaming in the dim light of the room as you took it from his grasp. Reaching out a hand, you drew the tip of your finger up the centre of his torso in one long stroke, your nail scraping softly as it completed its trail up the column of his throat to his chin where your finger stilled to force his head to tilt up towards the ceiling. “I didn’t think that you would be so willing to surrender to me.” You mused quietly, applying more pressure to the bottom of his chin with your fingertip, his eyes never straying from yours as you forced his head back further, displaying the full length of his throat to you. He fumbled for words, eyes scanning yours as you pressed your body closer to his, your clothes soft against his too sensitive skin. “I’m intrigued.” He finally whispered to you, the tip of his cane striking the floor as you loosened your grip on it, leaning your weight onto it slightly. Smiling sweetly at him, you took ahold of his hips, harshly turning him and shoving him down onto the bed. His body bounced slightly atop the mattress, his elbows grappling to gain purchase on the surface of the bed to push himself up. You waited until he had rose partly onto his elbows before reaching forwards to place your palm flat between his shoulder blades and forcing him back down flat with a firm push. Giving him no time to recover, you adjusted your grip on his cane, raising it into the air before bringing it down on his bare ass with a harsh crack. His body lurched forwards in response, his stunned grunt muffled as he buried his face into the soft covers. It took him a moment to retrieve his senses following the burning lash you had laid across his bare skin, by which point you were already raining a second strike down across the pale curves of his ass. And a third. And a fourth. He groaned, his teeth latching onto the sheets beneath him in a futile effort to stay quiet as your assault on his ass continued, each strike fuelling the burn radiating across his skin. With several more strokes administered to his increasingly flushed skin, he seemed to succumb to the pain, became drunk on ecstasy, greedily feasting on the hurt you infused into him; not accustomed to being the one receiving any sort of physical punishment, his back arched of its own accord, his pert ass parting in a silent plead for more. “Pitiful.” You tutted, reached forwards to rake the tips of your fingers through the red welts highlighting the pale canvas of his skin. He mewled, toes curling in perverted bliss as you painted smaller marks onto him with your nails, relishing in the simmering warmth radiating off his abused skin under your touch. James was mumbling incoherently around the mouthful of sheets caught between his teeth as you stepped back, delivering several more strokes to his ass with the hard wood of his cane. He shrieked when you laid the final, harshest, strike on his ass, the pain both sweet and strenuous, some drool escaping from his lips and soaking into the covers beneath him. Admiring your handiwork, you gazed across the gracious curves of his ass, marred with ever deepening sangria welts rising onto the contrastingly pale mounds. Reaching for him, you lightly tapped his hip, encouraging him to turn over; he heeded your wordless request and winced as his tender ass rubbed against the soft sheets. You cooed at the sight of his fully engorged cock, the purple head swollen and dripping a pearly bead of precum, his liquid need having left a small damp patch on the covers beneath him. You let out a breathy chuckle as he lifted his hips up, rutting his cock into the air in shameless need, showing you the effects that your rough treatment of his ass had pried from him. “I didn’t think that you were so much of a whore to get off on me hurting you; you’ve proved me wrong.” Your words had a broken noise cracking from the back of his throat, suspiciously close to a whine as his cock twitched, beckoning you to give it attention. His eyes were glazed with undiluted arousal as he stared up at you, and you noted the way that his eyes flicked feverishly from your face to the cane still tightly gripped in your hand, yearning to feel its impact upon his skin once again. With a pointed smirk, you placed it on the covers beside his head, his arousal radiating off body, turning the air that coated your fingers warm. Withdrawing your hand, you turned away, ensuring that all of his focus was fixed on you as you slowly rid yourself of your own clothes, discarding each article in a neat pile by your feet until you were just as exposed as he was. He scanned your body with greed as you turned back to face him, his hips once again making a futile thrust into the empty air above him, the swollen tip of his cock screaming for attention. “I could leave you here like this.” You mused, taking a step closer to the bed. He threw his head back in premature despair at your softly spoken words. “I could make you wait for your pleasure. I could reduce you to nothing but an unending pit of desperate need; I could make you crave me.” He let out a shakily spoken “no” of disagreement. “No?” You pushed, taking another step towards his tense form on the bed. He lifted his head to watch as you crawled onto the mattress, positioning your knees on either side of his thighs, his cock straining up to reach you. “No.” He bit back in confirmation. You cocked your head as you settled onto his upper thighs, lifting a hand and brushing your thumb over his tip so gently that the touch barely registered to James, who didn’t dare take his eyes off your hand as you gathered the single drop of precum threatening to spill; lifting up onto your knees, you reached to bring your hand up to James’ mouth, who instantly closed his lips around your thumb, his tongue swirling over the soft pad of it. He groaned at the bitter taste of himself on your skin, his lips parting to allow you to withdraw the digit. You decided that you could spend hours upon hours toying with him, watching him pitifully roll his hips up into nothing, the sight of his puffy lower lip caught tightly between his teeth to prevent any undignified noises from slipping out absolutely delightful. But your own arousal was causing your patience to slip, and so you maneuvered back down his body to where his cock was stretched to attention. Lowering your core to him, you laid your palm flat to the curve of his shaft, spreading your legs in order to part your cunt before rubbing yourself along the underside of him. His eyes drifted shut, his head falling back onto the covers beneath him as you steadily rubbed him between your engorged folds, your wetness smearing onto his vein decorated shaft as you drew yourself from his head to the very base of his length, your hand flat as it held him to your pussy. A string of breathily mumbled curses fell from his parted lips; you smirked. James very rarely swore and the rare profanities only spurred you on, pressing him further against your core as you continued to rub yourself up and down him. “More.” He stated after several more moments of this, his obedient demeanour slipping as you continued to tease him, drawing out the soft pleasure you provided him with your slickness. “Sorry?” You questioned, halting your movements; with a pitiful grunt, he bucked his hips into you, trying to use you for his own pleasure. “I don’t recall allowing you to make demands.” You finished, pushing yourself slightly up on your knees to hover just out of the reach of his cock that now glistened with your juices. “You’re playing too much.” He complained, pushing himself up onto his elbows and reaching for you. With a scowl, you slammed your palm into his throat, closing your fingers tightly around his neck and forcing his upper body back down. “Ungrateful bitch,” you spat, pinning him to the mattress by his throat. His eyes flashed in surprise as you increased the pressure of your grasp, fingertips burrowing deeper into his skin. With a flush working its way into his cheeks, he seemed to instantaneously surrender to you once more, his body settling back into the mattress as he seemed to recognise how direly he had underestimated your determination to switch the roles for once. “Maybe I didn’t cane you hard enough.” The words were carried on an exaggerated sigh as you sat back, moving to push yourself off the bed entirely. “No!” James sputtered, his lithe fingers closing around your hand that strayed from its hold around his throat as you made to stand. Pausing, you raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m sorry. Please, just do something. I need you. I need to feel you. Please.” Your stomach twisted in sick delight as you watched the man who had never begged for anything in his life moan his defeated craving for you. Grinning down at him in savage delectation, you settled fully back onto him, taking his length in your palm and guiding him into your cunt. His jaw fell slack, his pupils seeming to dilate with pleasure, pleasure that was only magnified at the returning grasp of your hand around his throat. Sinking fully down onto him, his groan of relief was sweet to your ears. You rocked your hips experimentally, pausing to reach for the cane beside his head. He accepted it as you guided it horizontally into his mouth, his teeth closing tightly around the hard wood which groaned under the force of his bite; the cane was ornate, expensive and thus, heavy, and a dim ache spread along the length of his jaw almost immediately with his efforts of keeping its weight balanced between his teeth. Picking yourself off his cock slightly, you slid down its length once more, ensuring that he was seated fully within your slick channel before rising once more to repeat the movement. James shuddered beneath you, his eyes drifting closed and his hands closing around the wood of the cane at either side of his head. The grip of his fingers was just as tight as that of his jaw, needing something to ground him in the midst of the vast pleasure already unfurling within him. With one more rise and fall on his cock, James was bucking his hips up into you as you sunk back down his length, unable to keep still beneath your ministrations and forcing his cock to plunge even deeper inside you. Your eyes shuttered as he did so, the walls of your cunt tightening around him, attempting to pull him deeper; the urge to reprove him was strong, but the pleasure that his rutting sent skittering along your nerves was even stronger. The sensation of him fully filling you drew a broken moan from your throat and you lifted yourself up once more, only to slide slowly back down his length, repeating the unrushed action several times, drawing out the pleasure that the simple movement gave you. James let out a soft groan around the polished wood of his cane, his eyes fluttering with his tongue pinned beneath it and rendering him inarticulate. His pulse fluttered beneath the palm still pressing into his windpipe, the sheen of stubble populating the skin prickling into your touch. Your clit pulsed steadily as you seated yourself fully back onto his cock, your need to touch him, to feel him, becoming indescribable as James resumed his reciprocating action of lifting his hips up to meet yours, the two of you establishing a feverish pace, the swollen head of his cock hitting hard and deep, your movements becoming increasingly febrile. With you own pleasure mounting, the sight of his face, scrunched up with bliss, a red hue coating the skin from your harsh grip on his throat, the lightning shaped vein forking through his forehead was divine and all other thought but of that of him inside you, of the pleasure you were evidently giving him, evaded your consciousness. A breathy moan of your own drifted from your lips, James’ eyes cracking open so that he could watch you ride him through a heavy-lidded gaze, eyes glazed with gratification. You continued to pick yourself up on his cock before fully slamming down once more, again and again and again, your slick, sensitive walls pulsing around him, his head continuing to hit deep, each thrust ripping away at the bundle of pleasure glowing in the pit of your stomach, the orgasm hidden at its centre your goal as you fucked yourself on him. You clenched the inner walls of your tender cunt, letting out a shakily moaned “fuck” as it forced James’ thickness to press into the entirety of your slickness. James mewled beneath you in response, much to your satisfaction, his teeth tightening around the wood of his cane, biting down hard as you rode him closer and closer to release, the series of pleasure filled whimpers that tumbled from his lips quietened by the intrusion. You groaned deeply in response, James’ eyes almost rolling at the sight of you trailing one of your hands down to your cunt, rubbing at your clit harshly as the other hand came to grapple with one of your tits, fondling the soft mound whilst you pleased yourself. His eyes were wholly dark as he watched this, his mouth going utterly dry as you let out a soft gasp, your eyes drifting closed. Your fingertips brushed against the very bottom of his shaft as you drew ever larger, harder circles onto your clit, drawing in a hissing breath. You knew James was getting close when the fervour with which he thrusted up into you faltered, his grip on the cane turning bonewhite, his knuckles visible beneath his pale skin. Slowing your pace, you giggled in cruel, blissful amusement at the despairing groan of protest that leaked from around the cane in his mouth. “I’m tempted to finish myself off on your cock and then leave you here.” You mused softly in a honeyed tone. James shook his head to the best of his ability with his teeth latched onto his cane. “No?” You hummed in patronising question, sinking yourself even deeper onto his cock than before, your knees slipping further apart in order to fit your hips snugly onto his, grinding onto him slightly. James threw his head back, a single tear of aggravated need leaking down the side of his face. You cooed at his pitiful display of desperation, stilling fully on him as you continued to work yourself with the tips of his fingers. A small thread of drool leaked from the corner of James’ mouth at the sight. “Go on,” you groaned, deciding that you needed your own pleasure to be provided to you by his cock just as much as he needed his pleasure to be provided by your cunt. “Use my cunt. Make yourself cum.” He slammed up into you immediately, the force with which he rammed his entire length up into you nearly throwing your body off of his, both of your hands falling to rest on his torso to ensure that you remained seated on his cock. The tendons in his neck become more pronounced as he slammed into you again and again with reckless abandon, your heavy, aching tits bouncing with the force and your knees struggling to maintain purchase on the silky bed sheets. You blinked, trying to clear your blurring vision as your eyes strained to retreat into the back of your head, James’ cock stretching and filling you so perfectly that you felt intoxicated on pleasure, your toes curling and fingers trembling in their place on his flexing torso. He knew the exact angle with which he needed to pound up into you, his swollen head hitting deep, abundantly fuelling the pyre of ecstasy building within you, his breaths coming out hard and fast, fogging the polished wood of the cane lodged between his teeth. “Look at me.” You ordered when his thrusts became dangerously messily, leaning forwards to catch his tightly clenched jaw in your sweat coated palm, the muscles within feathering and twitching under your touch. His eyes locked with yours, a shuddering, drawn out groan floating from him as his hot seed spilled up into you, catalysed by the look of pure hunger he beheld in your meeting gaze. His unleashing of hot, liquid bliss had your own orgasm crashing into you, it’s force utterly euphoric as it passed through you in waves of electrifying heat. Your eyes rolled, pupils becoming lost to pleasure as the planes of James’ abdomen clenched, the tightening and pulsing of your slick walls around him drawing out his own release as you struggled to gain control of your body amidst the throes of your own, your face contorting in bliss. James was released from his orgasm with a strained grunt, his body melting back into the mattress, the tight planes of his body coated with sweat as he watched you recover from your own orgasm, completely sated beneath you, his back teeth digging into the wood of his cane further and exacerbating the ache threading through his jaw. Your fingers trembled, struggling to grapple onto his scar flecked skin, needing to grip onto something in a futile attempt to ground your mind that was lost to abundant pleasure. With a shuddering gasp, your eyes righted themselves, jaw falling slack as your muscles were released from the tight knots that your pleasure coursing through you had forced them into. Panting, you collapsed forwards, James’ skin hot beneath your lips as you planted a kiss onto the hollow of his throat. His cock softened within you, his eyes glinting with appreciation as you reached up, coaxing his fingers to loosen from the cane and withdrawing it from his lips. Shallow indentations had been left by the fierceness with which his teeth had sunk into the hard material. You crooned softly at the sight, bringing the length of the cane to his eye level to show him his handiwork. He smiled weakly, satisfied at the marks he had left, a constant reminder of the pleasure you had given him. Patting his cheek, you offered him a softly spoken praise, genuinely thanking him for handing you the power that he usually exercised so keenly before capturing his lips with your own in a sweet, healing kiss.

taglist: @kitwalker02 @three-eyed-snail @forevercountess @kitwalkerangel @milly-louise @thecountessesglove @undeadcortez @kitwalker64 @samsassinparvismagna @xmaximoffic @divineruler @liandav @tatesweaterweather @evanmybeloved @tatelangdonsupremacist @ikkleroniekins @ananad1 @shlutnutt @sanni333 @mossybank (dm me to be added or removed <3)

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bloededhoine · 4 years ago

Text

the witcher: chapter 1, part 1

or,

content warnings

violence - our yet unnamed protagonist kills some people with a sword.

summary

a mysterious man (yes, the same one from the last part) arrives in a town called wyzim in the late afternoon, after all the shops had closed and everyone's gone home. even though it's really hot out, the man is wearing a heavy black coat. odd.

he passes by the more popular inn and goes to the shadier one. he then walks up to the counter and just stands there like this

the man orders a beer and the narrator informs us that his voice is "unpleasant". he's also pretty unusual looking, with his white hair and apparent immunity to the heat (1).

after he gets his beer and finally takes off his coat, revealing a sword strapped to his back like a crossbow. he doesn't sit down and instead has a one-sided staring contest with the innkeeper while he drinks his beer.

he then asks for a room, but the innkeeper refuses and tells him to go to the nicer inn in town. the man does not like this at all, but when he speaks again some other people at the inn recognise his accent as rivian and go to bully him into leaving.

apparently, wyzim is a nice respectable place and doesn't need people from rivia causing trouble. ironic given the wyzimians are the ones causing the trouble here.

anyways, the rivian man again refuses to leave, so these self-appointed cops decide to make him. in barely a second, however, the rivian kills all of them.

this causes the attention of some local guards, who corner the verifiably-badass rivian and try to arrest him.

this time, he makes a weird motion with his hand (2) and tells the guards that these are not the droids they're looking for they will escort him to the castellan (basically the person in charge of running the castle), since he's new in town and doesn't know the way. you nerds may recognise this as the axii sign

quotes

"The stranger was not old but his hair was almost entirely white. Beneath his coat he wore a worn leather jerkin laced up at the neck and shoulders."

"...and with his right hand raised toward the guards, swiftly drew a complicated sign in the air. The clout-nails which studded his tunic from his wrists to elbows flashed."

notes

these are general approximations of geralt's outfit if you're curious. the leather jerkin (top left) would be worn over the tunic (bottom left), and a black version of the cloak (top right) would be the outermost layer. the boots (bottom right) have a weird lacing system i don't totally get, and were apparently quite light weight and easy to repair. i also looked up what clout nails are, because they sound fun, but they're just those flat-headed nails used for roofs and stuff.

full text under the cut

The stranger did not enter the Old Narakort. He pulled his horse farther down the street to another tavern, a smaller one, called The Fox. Not enjoying the best of reputations, it was almost empty.

The innkeeper raised his head above a barrel of pickled cucumbers and measured the man with his gaze. The outsider, still in his coat, stood stiffly in front of the counter, motionless and silent.

“What will it be?”

“Beer,” said the stranger. His voice was unpleasant.

The innkeeper wiped his hands on his canvas apron and filled a chipped earthenware tankard.

The stranger was not old but his hair was almost entirely white. Beneath his coat he wore a worn leather jerkin laced up at the neck and shoulders.

As he took off his coat those around him noticed that he carried a sword— not something unusual in itself, nearly every man in Wyzim carried a weapon —but no one carried a sword strapped to his back as if it were a bow or a quiver.

The stranger did not sit at the table with the few other guests. He remained standing at the counter, piercing the innkeeper with his gaze. He drew from the tankard.

“I’m looking for a room for the night.”

“There’s none,” grunted the innkeeper, looking at the guest’s boots, dusty and dirty. “Ask at the Old Narakort.”

“I would rather stay here.”

“There is none.” The innkeeper finally recognized the stranger’s accent. He was Rivian.

“I’ll pay.” The outsider spoke quietly, as if unsure, and the whole nasty affair began. A pockmarked beanpole of a man who, from the moment the outsider had entered had not taken his gloomy eyes from him, got up and approached the counter. Two of his companions rose behind him, no more than two paces away.

“There’s no room to be had, you Rivian vagabond,” rasped the pockmarked man, standing right next to the outsider. “We don’t need people like you in Wyzim. This is a decent town!”

The outsider took his tankard and moved away. He glanced at the innkeeper, who avoided his eyes. It did not even occur to him to defend the Rivian. After all, who liked Rivians?

“All Rivians are thieves,” the pockmarked man went on, his breath smelling of beer, garlic and anger. “Do you hear me, you bastard?”

“He can’t hear you. His ears are full of shit,” said one of the men with him, and the second man cackled.

“Pay and leave!” yelled the pocked man.

Only now did the Rivian look at him.

“I’ll finish my beer.”

“We’ll give you a hand,” the pockmarked man hissed. He knocked the tankard from the stranger’s hand and simultaneously grabbing him by the shoulder, dug his fingers into the leather strap which ran diagonally across the outsider’s chest. One of the men behind him raised a fist to strike. The outsider curled up on the spot, throwing the pockmarked man off balance. The sword hissed in its sheath and glistened briefly in the dim light. The place seethed. There was a scream, and one of the few remaining customers tumbled toward the exit. A chair fell with a crash and earthenware smacked hollowly against the floor. The innkeeper, his lips trembling, looked at the horribly slashed face of the pocked man, who, clinging with his fingers to the edge of the counter, was slowly sinking from sight. The other two were lying on the floor, one motionless, the other writhing and convulsing in a dark, spreading puddle. A woman’s hysterical scream vibrated in the air, piercing the ears as the innkeeper shuddered, caught his breath, and vomited.

The stranger retreated toward the wall, tense and alert. He held the sword in both hands, sweeping the blade through the air. No one moved. Terror, like cold mud, was clear on their faces, paralyzing limbs and blocking throats.

Three guards rushed into the tavern with thuds and clangs. They must have been close by. They had truncheons wound with leather straps at the ready, but at the sight of the corpses, drew their swords. The Rivian pressed his back against the wall and, with his left hand, pulled a dagger from his boot.

“Throw that down!” one of the guards yelled with a trembling voice.

“Throw that down, you thug! You’re coming with us!”

The second guard kicked aside the table between himself and the Rivian. “Go get the men, Treska!” he shouted to the third guard, who had stayed closer to the door.

“No need,” said the stranger, lowering his sword. “I’ll come by myself.” “You’ll go, you son of a bitch, on the end of a rope!” yelled the trembling guard. “Throw that sword down or I’ll smash your head in!”

The Rivian straightened. He quickly pinned his blade under his left arm and with his right hand raised toward the guards, swiftly drew a complicated sign in the air. The clout-nails which studded his tunic from his wrists to elbows flashed.

The guards drew back, shielding their faces with their arms. One of the customers sprang up while another darted to the door. The woman screamed again, wild and earsplitting.

“I’ll come by myself,” repeated the stranger in his resounding, metallic voice. “And the three of you will go in front of me. Take me to the castellan. I don’t know the way.”

“Yes, sir,” mumbled the guard, dropping his head. He made toward the exit, looking around tentatively. The other two guards followed him out backward, hastily. The stranger followed in their tracks, sheathing his sword and dagger. As they passed the tables the remaining customers hid their faces from the dangerous stranger.

#the witcher #geralt of rivia #geralt #witcher saga #witcher series #the witcher saga #the witcher books #the witcher series #witcher lore #andrzej sapkowski #the last wish #mine #saga tag #geralt tag #haven't got a fucking queue

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leda-x · 4 years ago

Text

Ladybug has five minutes left with Chat Noir, and she isn't ready to give them up.

Ladybug woke in the cooking section of a library with the word “chance” tumbling from her lips. It was the ancient atrium of a newly modernized building. Like always, she was crouched down behind a bookshelf with Chat Noir at her side.

Far, far above her head, thin marble columns rose upwards, curving into graceful arches to meet in the middle. Early morning light shone through the enormous circular skylight positioned at the center of the atrium’s domed ceiling. It illuminated little specks of golden dust that had been disturbed by them seconds before. The room was empty, sound hushed.

Meeting her gaze, Chat tapped the screen on his baton and the numbers 04:58 began to flash. 04:57… 04:56... He reached down, flipping through a cookbook at his side, stopping at a random page. “Lobster tails meunière,” he read aloud to mark the attempt, green gaze flicking back up for her lead.

There were 2,000 recipes in The Escoffier Cookbook and Guide to the Fine Art of Cookery. That one was new. Ladybug took it as a good omen.

There was nothing but seriousness in Chat’s face right now. Seriousness and a rosy glow of determination and confidence.

Ladybug’s fingers drifted off her bracelet to cradle Chat’s cheek. Her gloved thumb followed the line along the bottom edge of his mask, right at the exposed part of his cheek. She watched the depth and vibrancy in his eyes. Could see a ring of eyelashes through the colored glass. Could feel the heat from his skin. He had a freckle on his upper lip. Not for the first time Ladybug realized her partner was beautiful. The first few times she had stopped to really notice she had cried. An ache started in her throat and grew until her entire chest was sore, until she was breathless with grief.

A blush colored his cheeks and his neck. She watched, with some fascination, the steady beat of his heart through the vein in his neck. It was throbbing quick. He was searching her face for answers now, lip pursing into worry. “Uh oh… It’s that bad?” Chat joked.

She wasn’t ready. It wasn’t the right time around. Ladybug got up from her crouch and held out her hand.

Chat took it without question and allowed her to lead them both out of the atrium into a modernized foyer, then into an elevator. She pressed floor four.

“What’s the plan?” he asked as the elevator doors shut. Ladybug could detect a thread of nervousness behind his grin. He was probably wondering why they were going up when the akuma was last spotted below.

Such faith. It cracked her heart a little further every time. Ladybug squeezed his hand, watching the elevator numbers tick so she didn’t have to look him in the eye as she admitted, “No plan.”

The doors opened to an art gallery absent of people.

She let go of Chat’s hand, even though she never really wanted to, and began walking through the exhibit. She could hear the soft sound of his footsteps following her. Extremely large images of sand flicked by in succession. Ladybug didn’t stop to marvel at them.

Chat always did. “Whoah,” he said and she glanced back, catching him craning his neck. “This isn’t a photo. Someone drew this.”

Ladybug used up a few of her seconds to watch her partner, feeling a wash of fondness as Chat placed his hands on his hips and tilted forward, nose scrunched, face inches from the canvas. “LB how long do you think this took to make?”

Years, Ladybug thought. Aloud, she said, “This way.”

Chat let out a low whistle as they passed by a total of ten drawings. Each one looked alike. There were slight variations, however, upon closer inspection. It was the variations in Chat Noir that Ladybug kept discovering that made it impossible for her to stop doing this. They had been here over a thousand times before. Each time was a little different, but always ended the same.

They wound a corner and ended up in a smaller room. Ladybug headed towards the back where a replica of the interior of an old-style french house had been built. There was a bed and a little TV where you could learn all about Château de Blois.

It was the best place she had found for this. She had tried a lot of places. She had already dragged Chat around the entire city of Paris looking for a solution. Not that this Chat Noir remembered any of that.

She gestured at the bed, ignoring the documentary that was playing softly behind her, “I have a lot to tell you and no time to do it. How are we, by the way?”

Chat Noir obeyed, sitting on the bed, cat ears perked straight up, eyes bright now and curious. His knee bounced with pent-up energy. He glanced at his baton. “Three minutes, forty-seven seconds. Why? What’s going to happen?”

“I need you to pretend that everything I’m about to say is true,” Ladybug began.

Chat Noir gave her a funny look like, ‘why wouldn't I?’

Ladybug couldn’t help but smile a bit at that. She crouched down in front of him, placing a palm atop each bouncing knee. “You are going to die in three minutes,” Ladybug said.

Chat froze.

“Your heart. It stops. An arrhythmia,” Ladybug continued, keeping her eyes locked with his, making sure he was following along. They never had time to go over it again. “We’ve been here a lot. Anything you are about to say I’ve tried.” She had tried every hospital, every ER, every doctor; had tried Lucky charm-ing a solution countless times.

Chat’s eyebrows drew together. His eyes were still present in the room with her, though. They hadn’t glazed off or flicked away in fear. “What?” he breathed. He searched her for a long moment for the joke.

Ladybug knew better than to so much as flinch or blink right now while he was looking for a way out. Chat’s denial came in different severities every time, but it was never helped by her saying or doing anything until he did first.

A stormy look passed across his face as he took that in. “So... I’m dead and there’s nothing anyone can do about it?” he summarized, grinning.

Ladybug nodded, relaxing a touch. In her experience him grinning was usually the best outcome, even though it did seem a bit deranged. She took her hands from his knees, giving him a bit of space despite every bone in her body aching to hold him close. Even though she had held him so many times, it was always new for him. Too much of her affection too fast could scare him off.

“Wait. What about the cure?” he asked.

“You know Ladybug can’t bring people back to life.”

Chat leaned back a touch. A clawed palm drew up to rest over his heart, expression a bit dazed. Ladybug watched as her partner’s brain spun, processing. Then he glanced back at her, eyes startled. “How… How many times have we done this?”

“Many,” Ladybug admitted. “Each time is a little different. Sometimes you don’t believe me. Sometimes you call your dad. Sometimes you call Nino. Sometimes we just sit together.”

“Nino?” Chat caught.

“I know you are Adrien Agreste,” Ladybug said and then waited to see how he would react.

Sometimes this revelation hit hardest. It was more real, more believable. Often the fact that she knew his name at all was taken as proof she was telling the truth about everything else. That realization typically followed with denial. Sometimes terror.

Ladybug watched closely as Chat’s chest heaved in panic.

A humming noise suddenly kicked off. It was only after it stopped that Ladybug realized the air conditioning had been on. The change shocked Chat back out of whatever place he had gone. “Do I know you?” he whispered.

“Do you want to?”

Suddenly he recoiled, gaze suspicious. “You’re not Ladybug,” he stated, as if the thought had just dawned on him. “This isn’t real.”

Ladybug’s heart sank.

He was standing now, stumbling backwards. His shoulder hit one of the wood beams of the replica, causing him to twist.

With a sigh she reached down and twisted the bracelet back into position.

. .

Ladybug woke again in the cooking section of the library.

Chat tapped the screen on his baton and flipped through the cookbook. “Eggs benedict,” he read aloud.

Ladybug was still reeling from last time. They had almost parted ways on terms she could (maybe) accept. But no— Chat had to get paranoid. Not for the first time she cursed all the replicas of herself that her partner had faced. Maybe if he hadn’t been tricked previously they would have a better chance at this.

“Ladybug?” Chat’s voice broke her out of her thoughts, worried. “What’s wrong?”

“Why do you wake up in the morning?” Ladybug asked, eyes locked down at the book in his hands. At the long pause she got out of her crouch and into a cross-legged position, chancing a look at his face. Sometimes his living face in all it’s animated glory really hurt to look at when seconds before it had been dead.

Chat was staring at her in uncertainty. After a beat he mirrored her, settling down at her side and putting down the book. “That’s a weird question. Why? Something to do with the akuma?”

“Yes,” Ladybug lied. “I need to know.” She needed a break. Even though she never grew physically tired, emotionally she was exhausted. She used up rounds getting to know him better, plucking up the courage to try again to say goodbye again.

He had a grin on his face now. “Usually because of my alarm clock.”

. .

She was back in the library.

“Grammont pullet,” said Chat Noir, to her right. He set down the cookbook and tapped his baton.

Ladybug laughed. She laughed and then she cried. She wasn’t sure when she stopped doing the first and started doing the second. They sort of happened together, just like all of these second chances and all of these subtle striations.

Chat’s hands hovered beside her arms like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to comfort her. His ears flattened, green eyes distraught. However, when Ladybug leaned in his arms looped around her in an easy embrace, chin resting atop her head.

Eventually emotions passed and Ladybug went quiet, listening to the sound of Chat’s heartbeat and the rumble of his voice as he asked, “What’s the joke?”

“You started the timer after you read the recipe this time,” Ladybug said.

Chat’s grip shifted. He fell silent, as if weighing something, before he admitted, “I don’t get it.”

Ladybug reached up and patted his back. She hadn’t expected him to.

. .

This time around was coq-au-vin.

They had made it to the elevator. This time, Ladybug pressed ‘Floor 4’ right as Chat pressed ‘Basement’. The elevator suddenly had a choice, and it chose to go down, and instead of twisting the bracelet to start over, Ladybug decided to take out some of her own anger on the akuma.

The fight was over before it barely begun.

The umbrella Ladybug tossed to Chat skidded across the floor. Chat stumbled. Ladybug reached down and spun the bracelet before she had a chance to watch him fall.

. .

The last recipe was profiteroles. And it was only the last one, because Chat— like always— surprised her. Ladybug supposed it was only a matter of when, not if. She could only do this so many times before Chat turned it back around on her.

He was glaring at her now, green eyes bright and vivid, unobstructed by goggles. Ladybug internally cursed whenever Chat decided to transform back because it meant there was no more baton— no more timer— and she always felt a bit lost within these three minutes without it.

“How many times have you put yourself through this?” he was asking her, again, since she couldn’t give him a straight answer. Suddenly, and swiftly, he got up from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed and took two steps forward into her personal space before Ladybug had a chance to stumble back. “How many?” he repeated.

“I-I don’t know!” Ladybug answered truthfully, suddenly flustered beyond belief. This was the first time Adrien Agreste had had the audacity to step this close to her, to get this mad at her.

“Marinette,” Adrien realized, sounding a bit punched in the gut. “You’re Marinette. This whole time...”

Not trusting herself to speak, Marinette nodded, eyes wide. The amount of times they had both come to know each other’s identities were slim. Rarely did it ever get this far. From this point on was uncharted territory for Ladybug. This Chat Noir suddenly became very real, no longer this strange version of himself that repeated the same phrases and did the same things over and over. No, all the sudden this profiteroles version of Chat was wholly unique.

“If I die in three minutes—” he began.

“Any second now, actually,” Marinette corrected.

“—you’ll do what, exactly?” he finished.

Marinette knew how bad it sounded, but she said it anyway, “I’ll go back to when you’re not dead.”

Adrien’s eyes flicked to the Miraculous around her wrist for a second, brows scrunching. “And then what?”

Ladybug only had to meet his eyes for a brief second to answer that question.

Suddenly Chat had a strong grip on her arm, yanking it towards him.

It took Ladybug a full three seconds to realize what he was trying to do. “Chat. Stop. Chat, stop,” she hissed, veins icy, mouth dry. If he took the bracelet it was over. She twisted and ripped her arm out of his grip, stumbling back and away. A quick glance down confirmed the bracelet was still there and still activated. She kept it pressed tightly to her polka dotted chest, holding it with her other hand.

Adrien was shaking his head, bits of blond hair falling in and out of his eyes. “You can’t keep doing this,” he said, a little out of breath.

Marinette wondered if his heart had stopped and her fingers rested down upon the bracelet, but after a few seconds passed and he remained standing she let them drift away.

If Adrien noticed, he didn’t mention it. “Other people need you,” he accused. “Paris needs you.”

“Paris can figure it out,” she hissed.

Chat blinked, surprised. His face slowly morphed, surprise bleeding into understanding. “It’s ok, Bug. It will be ok.”

Her throat clenched and it felt like he had cleaved her entire body into two pieces straight down the middle. How? How would it ever be ok? When she thought of her future now she only saw darkness. There was nothing left.

“I know I can’t keep doing this,” she gasped, the words ripping out of her. “I know other people love me, need me. But you’re not the one that has to walk out of here alone." The word 'alone' made her own heart swell ten times too big until it felt like it would burst. She hoped it would. That would be a whole lot easier. She had wished a whole lot of things recently that would have appalled her younger self. “I’m not ready.”

“When will you be?” Adrien asked softly.

A hot surge of anger raced through her and she felt the insane urge to shove him or hurt him or do something because how dare he ask her that. How dare he! How dare he die in the first place! Ladybug was tempted to twist the bracelet just to get away from this Chat and go back to an earlier version who was still malleable and innocent. Just erase this attempt all together from his memory so she would never have to answer.

All she had to do was twist it. But then he’d be right. And if she didn’t twist it, he’d still be right. Because… he was right, regardless. And no matter how many times she could make him forget it, she would never forget it.

Adrien wobbled, taking a few quick steps back until he was slumping back on the bed, face pale. Time’s up.

Her anger evaporated and she was there, tugging him close into her chest, because this was the closest to Chat she had ever gotten in all her attempts. The crown of his head tucked underneath her chin, gloved fingers running through his hair, as she felt all the movement and life drain out of him. It was like this every time. Quick, quiet, sneaky. As quick as a switch. One minute the lights were on, the next they were off.

She had no idea how much time she had before her five minutes were up. If she had to guess it was down to seconds. Her fingers detangled out of blond hair and dragged along her side, along her arm, until they met her wrist and bumped against the bracelet.

Was she? When would she be? Ready, that is.

#Miraculous Ladybug #fanfic #angst #adrien agreste #time travel #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Chat Noir #Ladybug #Sorry I'm not sorry #If anyone needed a good cry

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rukanrin · 4 years ago

Note

mind it i drop a small request? argh i long for a fluffy domestic v x painter!reader (just imagine - the poet and the artist, both suckers for each other 😍 so romantic 😣) don't mind my enthusiasm i just love him too much 😅 and btw i LOVE your content! keep it up!!!

The Poet and The Painter||V x G/N Reader

Awww thank you so much! and of course feel free to drop any requests whether it be big or small,hell yes i see those two roles fitting so damn well since I’ve tried picking up those two hobbies in the past,hope you enjoy and the reader is gender neutral since no specific gender was requested,and sorry for it being so short i really wish i could develop that idea even more ;-; enjoy! -Ruka ---------------------------------------------------------------------------It was a rainy day,which upset you slightly since you wanted to paint outside in the garden of the house you and V owned,speaking of the romantic poet,he was currently snuggling with you on the couch in the living room“cheer up,sheesh,you can paint another day“ griffon,one of V’s familiars, screeched,but he was only teasing since he was always sitting on your shoulder or an object beside you to watch you paint and comment on it, then there’s shadow, she always brought you your paint supplies as long as they were clean so she didn’t have the taste of paint in her mouth afterwardsV planted a small yet loving kiss on your forehead before releasing you from the hug and going to get something while shadow made sure you were still where you sat by climbing on top of you.A short while later V came in with some of your art supplies,mostly pastel colors,two canvases and your paintbrushes already in a clean jar of water,placed them down on the table and gave you a small smile, “my dove,do you mind painting a fair flower that represents me and my familiars?” his voice was calming and gentle,you agreed and shadow came off you.You grabbed a wide paint brush and drew a base made of dark purple,another smaller one made of blue and indigo,a black one and a black and white one, then did a quick mix of colors while the bases were drying,the three followed your every move,whether it be how gracefully you move the paintbrushes and mix colors to get the exact one you wish for,or frowning slightly when thinking of ways to improve the painting,at the end you decided to paint a little chibi version of each one of your companions next to their flowers,V had a lovely black to silver rose,griffon had a purple and indigo poppy,shadow had a nice black buttercup,and nightmare was made a purple tulipShortly after giving the group the canvas,they were all looking at you with mischief in their eyes,oh boy,you knew what was gonna happen so you ran upstairs and hid in the closet,burying yourself in the pile of spare cloths and blankets on the bottom,footsteps could be heard and the closet door opened,then closed? but you heard growling ‘well shit’ you thought as the mighty panther dragged you back to the group,who all gave you a bit too much love,V cradling you,Griffon praising you and Shadow licking you,you had no choice but to let them thank you as you closed your eyes and enjoyed the moment“the poet and the painter,who know they would make a better pair then the star crossed lovers of fair verona“ (romeo and juliet) V mumbled,lying down next to you on the floor as the familiars disappear, whispering sweet nothing to you till you both fell asleep in the middle of the floor

#dmc v #v x reader #fluff #i love this request #thankyou for the support!

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allsassnoclass · 5 years ago

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Prompt: 28, 10 and Lashton

You said lashton in an art gallery. I said Off-Screen circa 2017 (aka Luke’s Utah Era). this might feel a little out of context, because it is. the theoretical prequel that I'm writing would explain more of the surrounding circumstance, but the most important thing to note is that Luke moved in with Ashton in Utah after the end of the SLFL tour. This takes place in January of 2017.

lashton: “Where are all of my hoodies? Did you borrow literally every single one of my hoodies?” + art gallery

The last guest has left when Luke arrives, the gallery technically beginning to close for the night. Ashton is tired, all of the frantic energy from the past few months building up to this evening of schmoozing and revealing the deepest parts of his soul to be judged by the art community, and he feels empty now that it has passed. There’s a glass of some sort of fancy alcohol in his hand, but he hasn’t had the chance to drink it all night, and his suit feels like it doesn’t fit his shoulders correctly. It’s been bothering him, but he’s been too focused on smiling genially and making nice with every single person who passed through the doors to look at his art to do anything about it.

The sound of the main doors opening is loud in the quiet of the space, and Ashton tenses where he’s talking to the owner of the gallery. He relaxes once he sees that it’s not another art snob or a random person who got lost, but Luke. He stands at the threshold awkwardly, fiddling with the hem of one of Ashton’s college hoodies, beanie stuffed unceremoniously over his hair. It’s getting longer, and he’s been letting it curl more instead of spending hours styling it and trying to get it to sit right.

He looks just as breathtaking as ever, and Ashton is almost overwhelmed with how lucky he feels to be one of the only people to see famous rockstar Luke Hemmings with his guard completely down.

“Luke,” he sighs, relief too obvious. Luke just smiles and wanders, stopping short when something in a painting catches his eye.

“Friend of yours?” the gallery owner asks, and Ashton turns his attention back to her. It’s too easy to forget that anyone else exists the moment Luke enters a room. Ashton needs to get a grip.

“Yeah, that’s my housemate. Do you mind if we look around for a bit? He couldn’t make the normal gallery times.”

He logistically could have, because Luke doesn’t have responsibilities here in Utah, but Ashton knows that the idea of him having to look nice, be in a crowd of people, and possibly be recognized almost sent him into a panic attack.

“Sure. I’m locking up by 10, though, so be out before then.”

Ashton thanks her profusely, and the look she gives him is a bit too knowing for his taste. Still, she heads towards the back with an artistic grace, and Ashton joins Luke where he’s staring at one of Ashton’s paintings.

“Hi,” he says quietly. Luke leans into him in a practiced move, shoulders brushing together. Luke has always been familiar and comfortable, despite how little they see each other.

Ashton knows he should feel bad that Luke felt so lost in LA that he had to come all the way to Utah and Ashton to try and find himself, but selfishly he’s glad. For a few months, he gets Luke to himself, curled up on his couch and eating at his kitchen island instead of off traveling the world and meeting adoring fans. Besides, having Luke here helps. Ashton can’t take care of another person if he’s drunk every night, and meals are easier to prepare when there are two people to eat them. It’s easier to fall asleep if someone else is breathing slowly next to him. It’s easier to keep the loneliness at bay with Luke stepping into the gaps in his life.

“Was it a good showing?” Luke asks.

“It was,” he replies, resisting the urge to do something inappropriate like pull Luke closer and tuck his face into his neck just to breathe him in. “I even sold a few paintings.”

“You did?” Luke lights up. “Ashton, that’s amazing! Which ones? Wait, I want to see them all anyway. Walk me through them as we go.”

Ashton does, trying his best to remember the thought process and inspiration behind each of the paintings hanging in the gallery. For the earlier works it’s easier, because objects inside are more defined and they have clearer stories. For recent creations featuring bold strokes and swirls of color and more ambiguous shapes, the inspirations shift towards ideas. Some of them he created while drunk, and he has to check the title cards to figure out what he was going for, because while drunk Ashton isn’t good for much, he at least always writes titles in his notes app when he paints.

His professors made him include some of those works, saying that a few are profound and mesmerizing and probably your best work. It makes Ashton feel like he can’t create anything if he doesn’t have a few drinks in him. It’s a mindset he’s trying to move away from, but it’s hard. At least he has endless inspiration with Luke in the house.

Luke looks at a piece entitled Longing for a few minutes, and Ashton prays that he doesn’t ask who or what he was longing for while painting it.

“Come on,” he says when the swirl of blues and purples (with just that shimmer of gold to represent the person of desire, possibly forming a hazy constellation of Luke to anyone who knows what to look for) becomes too much. “I want to show you the synesthesia section.”

“Section” is a generous term, because it’s actually just four paintings on the same wall. He has many more paintings for various songs and albums back home, most of them on smaller canvases he can get from the craft store, but there are a few songs that evoke such strong, beautiful visuals that he had to paint them properly.

The first painting has a primarily blue background, mixing with black in short strokes by the edges. Traveling diagonally across the canvas are an assortment of other colors, mostly yellows and reds until they meet strokes of white in the middle. The paint is thick, creating textured mountains where the colors meet, and that’s Ashton’s favorite part about painting, really. He’s not very good at 3D forms, but paint never lays completely flat. He likes how dynamic it is because of it.

“Gravity,” Luke croons as he looks, “is working against me.”

Ashton loves hearing him sing. He was worried for those first few weeks Luke came to him, because he rarely heard it, but now he can count on random melodies filling the house at all hours.

“John Mayer makes nice songs to look at,” he says. Luke smiles at him, then they move on to the next one.

This painting has a bit more variety in color. Ashton remembers mixing them on his pallet, unbothered by the streaks it caused in the brush strokes, knowing that it was necessary to capture what the song makes him see. A dark background gives way to a curve of reds, purples, pinks, blues, ending in some greens and yellows and a hint of orange. He splattered white and black on afterwards, just a little bit near the middle of the curve, and Luke leans forward to see all the small dots.

“This one really does look like ‘Karma Police,’” Luke says. “Even I can see it.” He straightens and gives Ashton another grin, and he knows that he can’t capture that smile in a painting (he’s tried, so many times), but he still wants to attempt it again.

“I can’t believe how talented you are,” Luke says. “It’s almost unfair.”

“Thanks,” he says, ducking his head. Luke nudges him with his elbow and moves on to the next painting. This one follows a similar pattern to the other two, a dark background with color in the middle, but it’s messier. Blue and purple feature the most, but there are hints of orange and yellow, and white overtakes the painting in peaked chunks and thin streaks.

“You’d think that for a Prince song, there’d be a bit more purple,” Luke says, tilting his head.

“Maybe he should have written more purple songs, then,” Ashton shrugs. “‘Joy in Repetition’ has more blue.”

“Wait, is “Purple Rain” even purple?” Luke asks, alarmed.

“Yes, that one fits the title.” Luke looks reassured at that, and they continue to the last painting. Ashton feels nerves clench in his stomach.

He didn’t submit any of his photographs or colored pencil sketches of Luke, not even the really good one of Luke sleeping in his bed with an arm over his face that Ashton drew one night when the insomnia was hitting him hard, but this painting could be just as damning. It’s different from the other three because it’s slightly bigger and oriented differently, vertical instead of horizontal. The background is also based in white instead of black, primarily creating a pale blue to match the cautious optimism of the song. More blue meets with seafoam green, peach, and white in the middle, dripping down the canvas until all the colors fade into just the green. The lines of this one are smoother, blended together evenly, but there are bursts of gold in the middle and near a few edges that he bought a specific brand of metallic paint for. Ashton watches as Luke’s eyes trace the painting before he turns to the name card.

“Luke?” he asks when a few moments have gone by with him completely frozen.

“Really?” Luke asks, voice cracking. “This is what you see?”

“Yeah,” Ashton says. He knew he was going to end up painting the song as soon as he first heard Luke’s voice singing about tasting the ocean. “It’s mostly “Outer Space,” but I incorporated some of what I saw for “Carry On” at the bottom.”

“Oh,” Luke says, then turns and tucks himself into a hug, squeezing Ashton tight enough that he feels short of breath. Ashton wraps his arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer and letting Luke cuddle into him in a way that he’s almost getting too big for.

“I take it you like it?” he asks, just to be sure. Luke nods, and when he does finally pull away he swipes at his eyes with the sleeve of Ashton’s sweatshirt.

“Can I buy it?” he asks.

“Luke, you can have it for free.” Luke shakes his head vigorously.

“No, you’ve already given me too much. I want to buy it from you. You should be paid for your art.”

“Okay,” Ashton says quietly. Luke’s eyes are still fixed on the painting, and Ashton comes back to slide a hand around his waist again. “We can negotiate a price later.” He presses a kiss to Luke’s temple, because that’s something he can get away with still.

“Don’t try to give me a discount. I’ve already stolen your food and half your clothes.”

“Speaking of,” Ashon says, “I’m absolutely positive that this hoodie was the last one in my closet. Where are all my hoodies? Did you borrow literally every single one of my hoodies?”

“Yeah,” Luke says sheepishly. “They’re comfortable. They smell like you.”

Luke is going to kill him like this. Ashton can’t even be upset, because what a way to go, but things like that are not helping him keep a lid on how absolutely head-over-heels he is.

“I’d be more upset if you didn’t look so good in them,” Ashton says before he can stop himself. Luke’s breathing stutters, but he doesn’t do anything besides lean a little closer. Ashton’s heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest.

“Come on,” Luke says. “I still want to see the rest of your pieces, then we can go home.”

Home, Ashton repeats to himself. Luke thinks of your house as his home.

They wander their way through the last few canvases, then stop briefly in the photograph and colored pencil room before stepping out onto the street. Their hands brush as they walk, and Ashton wonders if he can get away with grabbing Luke’s. This night feels significant in so many ways. Something has shifted, and he’s not sure if it has to do with his art career or the man beside him. He wants it to be both so badly he aches with it.

When they have two more blocks to go before reaching the house, Luke reaches over and threads their fingers together.

A/N: I don’t have synesthesia, but the first three song paintings really exist and can be found here. the one for os/co was made up by me.

#my writing #lashton #drabble #off-screen #this just set multiple things in stone that were undetermined before today #but when (if) I ever write the prequel things could shift and change #also this Ashton has synesthesia. the kind where he can see music #also me writing the piece with os/co: 'oh Helen isn't going to like this'#ugh I had something else I was going to say about this but now I've forgotten #this is a little treat for the people who follow me here after reading it because this is not going on ao3 until after the prequel #off screen

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hometownrockstar · 5 years ago

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ok heres a little explanation how i drew those sprites with bigger pixels in photoshop :) its a little long since i added screencaps just to be thorough so i will put it under a cut!

i made a canvas that was 3000x3000 with a resolution of 300, and since my pixels were 3x3 my examples will show my settings for those, but if u wanted to use a different ratio then i’d say to just replace any 3′s with the number of ur choice. if u want a smaller canvas size then just 300x300 with a resolution of 30 should work as well!

then u change your brush and eraser to the pencil setting and set them to 3 px. to make the brush set down full pixel blocks in that size, just right click with the brush, click the gear and click “square brushes” at the bottom

next you go to Edit > Preferences > Guides, Grid & Slices and change the settings to Gridline every 3 pixels, with 1 subdivision (or substitute the 3 with the number of ur choice)

then you need to turn on the grid at View > Show > Grid. Also while youre there, be sure to unclick the Pixel Grid and Snap options if they are already selected. i dont know if the Snap one would work better with other pixel brush sizes but it was messing me up when i was drawing with 3x3 personally

then u just paint in the individual grids to make pixel art! :) obviously it is not perfect, as u can still paint outside the lines, but you can use the grid to see if u did so and you can erase the extra bits if you need! it at least worked for me, someone who didnt wanna get an actual pixel art program loool

#i always feel like my tutorials are overly long or overexplained... but i'd prefer that rather than underexplained #cause theres nothing i hate more than when im trying to google tutorials for like emulating or photoshop stuff #and i dont understand the tutorials!!!#happens far too often to me...#save

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ghostboy-gamedev · 5 years ago

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Learn Log #6 - Cozy Cabin (Exterior)

I’m finally returning to learning pixel art after taking a short break! This week’s Learn Log will focus exterior of my Cozy Cabin, covering my learning about houses, snow tiles, stone tiles and brick tiles.

House

I wanted to start with the house as I feel like that will determine how large I should make the canvas. I decided to return to 16x16 tile sizes after the beach piece and used this as the basis for my house.

First, I drew the roof outline as the size and shape of the roof will determine the size and shape of the building. You can certainly start with the building, however, during my practice, I realised that I much prefer starting with the roof. The shape does look a little weird, but I’m hoping that with the addition of shading it’ll look a lot nicer.

After the roof, I drew the outline for the building. I left a little of the roof hanging over the sides of the building to represent a gutter overhang. Once the rectangle shape of the building base was done, I added details including the door, a bench and two windows. I stuck the door out to make it clear that it can be interacted with to enter the house. Making interaction clear is crucial in the graphical design of videogames, so this is an excellent way to do so with doors, I think. The door should roughly be the size of the characters entering them. In this case, my character was the size of one tile (16x16), so the door was just underneath those dimensions. I then added other key features to the building, including the bench and windows to remove the empty space that would make the building seem odd.

I then added some colours and shading to the building to better display depth. The back of the roof and top of the building is shaded to display the reduced light hitting these areas. Meanwhile, some areas of the roof outline are highlighted to emphasise the sunlight is hitting areas with direct light.

Finally, I added details to the building to provide the viewer with more information. The roof was detailed with a simple brick pattern to give viewers the idea it is made of slate tiles. A simple brick pattern is simply composed of an alternating grid pattern with ‘bricks’ usually being stacked on the gaps between the ‘bricks’ of the line below.

I then wanted to make the walls and door of the building out of wooden planks. With the door, I did this by alternating shading with vertical lines which worked well. This could also work for the wall; however, I wanted the building to seem a little older, so I drew sporadic lines across the building in a lighter colour. This made the door seem solid while the wall was worn down.

I decided to make the canvas 240x160 pixels and placed my house inside.

Snow

Snow is very similar to sand, and a snow texture can be made with wavy lines as described in the last Learn Log. However, I think a grassy snowfield can also be created by using grass techniques with two shades of white. The colours used for snow can’t be a bright, saturated white but they also can’t be too dark, or it will seem unnatural. A highly desaturated, slightly darkened, bright blue seems to work well. After a bit of tinkering around, I made the tiles shown below:

This image is a 64x64 made up of smaller individual 16x16 tiles that can be placed separately. I think it looks pretty good, but it is a little flat. I guess I’ll set it into the scene and continue with these tiles.

I also added some snow to the building to make it fit into the environment better.

Stone

I wanted to transform these snow plains into a mountain range, so I created stone tiles for a cliff face. To create these tiles, I started by selecting two grey colours before drawing stone shapes (deformed ovals and circles).

I then added lighter and darker shades to the rocks to add shading, along with some brighter highlights to show where sunlight reaches in-between the cracks.

Finally, I needed to make this tile fit within the snowy environment. I decided to add a snowy overhang to the top of the cliff-face and icicles stemming from stones. I also added some dithering to each stone to make the shading appear more natural.

I was fairly happy with the tile, so I decided to add it into the scene for a quick test.

There was not a clear sense of depth here, making it seem more like a stone wall rather than a cliff. To add additional depth, I added a darker snow outline around the tiles and added shading onto the tiles. This shading should be a gradient with more light hitting the top of the cliff and less hitting the bottom. This also goes for the path to give a sense of elevation. Dithering is an excellent way to better transition these gradients. I also added a shadow to the building as I added the rest of this shading.

Path

To make the path I first made a grid texture with the same greys from the stone tile (to keep the palette minimal) and shaded each rectangle in the grid as I did with the stone tiles.

I then made two tiles with different snow cover to alternate between when laying out the path. I kept two bricks in the path tiles clear and utilised the darker snow colour to ensure the grid pattern is still present.

I finally added the path to the canvas and was pretty happy with how it turned out, so I called it there.

Conclusion

I definitely struggled with this week’s piece. The snow feels a little flat due to the limitations of working with white/off-whites which kind of sets the whole environment off a bit. The background was ok, but that depth really would have made the environment a lot better, I think. I particularly struggled with the cliffs. Trying to highlight the elevation to the next area of snow was quite tricky. Next time, I think I’ll use specific tiles representing a staircase or ramp rather than shaded standard tiles. Finally, while the house looks nice, it still feels off. I think I’ll have to do more tinkering with buildings to better understand what I can do to improve the shape of it because right now I’m quite unsure. Overall, it’s a good start. My work on the man-made tiles was quite decent, but I need to improve with my creation of depth and snow tiles.

That concludes this week’s learn log. Next week I’ll be covering the interior of the Cozy Cabin including floors, walls and furniture.

My learning and this blog post wouldn’t have been made possible without these fantastic resources. Go check them out if you wanna learn some stuff about pixel art!

How to Make a Pixel Art House by TutsByKai

How to Pixel Snow by TutsByKai

How to Create a Brick Texture by TutsByKai

How to Make a Pixel Art Stone Texture by TutsByKai

Tutorial: Pixel Art Tile Floor by Michel Mohr

#pixel art #learning #gamedev #pixel aesthetic #pixel #gaming #learn #art

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nwfmp2021 · 4 years ago

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Repeat Pattern-Process & Outcomes

Shown below is the process in which I followed in order to achieve my repeat pattern outcome on Illustrator.

Firstly I opened a 200mm x 200mm canvas in Illustrator.

I then found an image of 2 chequered flags because they are used through motorsport and would be a perfect image for my repeat pattern.

I started by using the pen tool and the vector tool to adjust the angles of the lines in order to complete one of the flags and one of the poles.

Selecting it I then went object-expand.

Next I then went object-live paint-make so then I can use the live paint bucket.

Then using the live paint bucket I filled the flag with a black and white chequered pattern.

Once filled using the live paint bucket I duplicated the flag (cmd j) and went object-transform-reflect and made sure the axis was vertical and the angle was at 90º.

Once positioned the final outcome of the flag is the above and I really like how it cam out because of the the shape of the flag itself and how there is a bit of shape and angle to it as if it is flying in the wind.

For my second image on my repeat pattern design I chose to do a motorbike helmet so I went onto google images and found a Dainese helmet as it the most well know helmet and protection gear brand.

Using the pen tool along with the vector tool again I did a basic outline of the helmet as I didn’t want it to be too detailed and I like how it came out because of its simplicity and I plan to match the colour of the helmet along with the colours of my text in my repeat pattern.

For my last image for my repeat pattern I decided to do a Pirelli tyre because of how they are one of the main components of a motorbike in terms of speed and consistency.

Firstly I used the ellipse shape tool with a black outline and no fill in order to construct all of the circular sections of the tyre and wheel.

Then using the pen tool I drew in the detailing of the wheel.

Once the drawings were complete I then went onto the 200mm x 200mm canvas and used the type tool along with the font “BubbleGum” from DaFont and typed out the words “adrenaline”, “speed”, and “motorsport” in various colours and sizes as well as using the free transform tool to adjust the angles of them, these words all link to my theme as speed causes a rush of adrenaline as well as speed being linked to motorsport in many ways. I then inserted the flags into the page as well as the drawings of the helmet and wheel, once inserted I made the drawings of the wheels and helmet into a live paint drawing by selecting them and going object-live paint-make and using the live paint bucket to fill them with colours to match the type, once filled with colour I adjusted the sizes of the drawings in order to create a range of sizes within my work. After that I made a new artboard and copied and pasted my pattern onto it and then used the rectangle shape tool with a black fill and then outlined the artboard and right clicked and went arrange-send to back in order to then have a black background.

To make my pattern into a repeat pattern I selected each section of the pattern excluding the background and went object-pattern-make.

Then I adjusted the repeat pattern so then it’s a bit more staggered in terms of everything not going in the exact same direction or in a straight line by changing the tile grid and the offset.

Once done it was then turned into a swatch ready to use.

I then made another artboard and used the rectangle shape tool with no outline and filled it with my repeat pattern, in addition to that I then scaled the repeat pattern down by going object-transform-scale.

I then changed the scale to 25% to make the pattern a bit smaller.

Then I made another artboard and copied and pasted (cmd c and cmd v) the filled rectangle.

I then went to appearance and add a new fill which I then made black.

Then I moved the black filled layer underneath the one with the pattern to form a black background.

I then made another artboard and pasted (cmd v) the rectangle pattern fill and went edit-edit colours-recolour artwork in order to change the colours of my repeat pattern.

I then selected the advanced options tab in the bottom right hand corner.

That then brought up this which I then adjusted in terms on colouring to swap some of the colour choices.

This is my original outcome with a black background and I really like the outcome because of how the colours both go well with each other along with the background.

This is my second outcome in terms of the background being black but the colours of my actual repeat pattern being changed to yellow and green as they both go well with black and they are both analogous colours and are very vibrant and refreshing colours.

This is my original repeat pattern along with a blue background as I found that it goes really well with the pink as well as the green.

This is my last outcome and for this one I changed the colour green to purple as I found as though it goes well with the pink as well as the blue of the background. Overall I think this is my favourite outcome because of how all of the colours go well with each other and I feel as though the purple and pink really stand out in the foreground of the blue background.

#process #development #outcomes

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resetpermalik · 5 years ago

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Creating an Animation with Photoshop

Navi from Zelda

Getting Started

So, you need an image. But, the one you’re looking for is either under copyright or only exists in your mind. This leaves a few options: search tirelessly among the internet for an adequate option, pay another entity to make one on your behalf or make it of your own accord. Choices, choices…

There is certainly a chance that a viable option exists on the interweb — somewhere. But, is it worth your valuable time to flip rocks over all day? Maybe, maybe not.

Hunting down a novice or even a professional to execute the task for you is always a sure-fire way to provide a finished and possibly-well-polished product. Though, in many cases, you must pay for this service (especially as you slide up the scale of quality.) Or you may simply want an animation for a personal project. In this case, finding free animators on freelance websites is within the realm of possibilities. If this last one is you, best of luck. If not, let’s press on.

The final option is to piece together the project yourself. And that’s the route I have taken for my latest endeavor. Using Photoshop, I made a basic animation of Navi (the flying blue companion of Link’s — from Zelda (: specifically, Ocarina of Time.) A great game, I know!

The following will shed some light instruction on how I went about building my animation, along with some tools available in the very powerful application — Photoshop.

Setting Layers

Before any magical talking fairies can be forged, we first must supply a canvas on which we will place them. The first step is to open your Photoshop app. This project was enacted using Photoshop 2021.

Upon opening your app, the splash page should appear. This page will welcome you, the user. Along with a warm greeting from the Adobe team, you will find the sidebar on your left houses a button to create a new project or open a file. Click ‘create new’. Then choose the size appropriate for your means. Moving on…

So you have opened your new project, our first objective is one of painting a background on which our animation will be born. Any color will suffice, though a color which allows for contrast will be useful — at least until after our work is finished. Your first layer will be preselected and may be verified at the bottom-right of your screen. To color your background, use your ‘paint bucket tool’ (with your chosen color appended) to click and cover your first layer. This should shift the whole layer to your particular hue.

Once successful, create a new layer with the plus sign in the tiny toolbar (underneath your layer tab, in the bottom-right.) After the new layer is opened, ensure ‘layer 2’ is stationed above your first, freshly painted layer. Also, you will do well to commit this layer function to memory — as it will be used several more times when adding the wings for Navi…or other pieces to your specific project. Now, we should have one layer on bottom with a certain background color applied. Placed over that should be a fresh layer — ready for the body of our fairy friend.

Navi’s Blue-ish Body

Building the body for Navi is straight-forward. This calls for a series of orbs (three: one darker blue, a lighter blue and white-blue) stacked atop each other. To place these orbs, grab your ‘brush tool’ from the dedicated sidebar on your left. The paintbrush is what you’re looking for. Select that and continue to adjust the hardness (how strict or spotted the edges are — like a sharpie vs. a can of spray paint.) Also, choose the appropriate size for your Navi body. This process will be repeated for a total of three times; in accordance to the aforementioned color scheme and from the largest orb to the smaller and smallest, centered orbs. I hope this makes sense. If not, the images supplied should be of help. Onward!

Pin Your Wings

Next we need those two iconic sets of wings which keep Navi floating around Link’s head — chattering “Listen!” for every step of the epic legend of Ocarina of Time. For wings, we shall chose our ‘line tool’. This may be located in the same left-hand sidebar.

After equipping the ‘line tool’, some settings for it must also be adjusted. Those will include (but are not limited to): pixel width, stroke type (solid, dashed or dotted), stroke fill color and so on. Calibrate your ‘line tool’ and we can start drawing those wings.

Exactly how your wings look is up to you. The wings I drew are all visible in the images posted, but feel free to use your imagination. I’m sure you either already know how Navi looks — or can simply scrape the internet for some images. Regardless, draw your first line. Then we can move onto the intermediary ‘warp’ technique. Exciting, right?

If you were successful with constructing your first line (of the first wing,) then head to ‘edit’ (while still selecting the respective line) at the top of your screen. We need to ‘transform’ your line with the ‘warp’ transformation, so rather than a flat, straight line — you will be able to manipulate the line into a curve for your wings. Again, select your line. Then ‘edit’. ‘Transform’. ‘Warp.’ If you follow, let’s push forward…

Warping Wings and Such

Warping your elements will take a slight learning curve. Really, only slight. You will just have to accomodate yourself to the functions of warping. This feature will be used consistently throughout the construction of each wing. Really, just try to watch how your lines move in relation to the dots as you maneuver and you will be just fine! As for the color of the wings, I chose grey. So long as yours look the way you want, any shade is perfect. Onto some added markings…

Now that each of your wings have be brought to life, let’s place in some wing-like lines to add a bit of character. Again, like the wings, I used the line tool for this portion. The only difference which should be mentioned is the color. For the veins in each wing, I set the lines to a slightly darker grey. But, as with the wing color themselves, choose as you wish.

With the physical structures of each wing built, the last few steps are only finishing the wings and bringing them (in a sense) to life. To do so, we will add a ’gradient’ and ’outer glow’ to each. Both features can be added by right clicking the respective layer and selecting ‘blending options.’ Next, I will briefly cover each option…

Gradient to Add Perspective

For your gradient, you may adjust many dials, sliders and otherwise to get things tuned just right. Under the devoted (‘gradient’) tab you will see: style (linear, radial, angle, reflected or diamond), opacity, reverse, scale and so forth. Set each one just so and you will achieve the best angle for perceived lighting over Navi.

Outer Glow for Emphasis

As far as your ‘outer glow’ settings, follow the same procedure to access them… ‘layer’, right-click, ’blending options’, ‘outer glow’. This will deposit you into a very similar tab. Tune your glow’s opacity, noise, spread, size, range and so on. After this step, Navi should be ready for action!

Conclusion

As discussed originally, there are many ways to allocate animations for any project you come across. That said, building your own personal image and/or character from scratch is a great time and brings to rise plenty of new skills which truly are not too difficult to onboard.

Maybe you have no interest in building Navi, but hopefully this instructional article gave some tips and hints on how to better utilize the Photoshop application in your workflow.

#Photoshop animation workflow tutorial design

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plasmavamp · 5 years ago

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How do you make your editing so pretty???

Hey there!! First off, kjfdgbjfdbgjhdfjh thank you so much. I know this is crazy late, I’ve been working hh. I’ve put a general tutorial(??) under the cut so it’s not too long on dash!! ♥

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First off, what I currently use:

Photoshop CC

@intramoon ‘s Patchouli Rose (primarily)

@magicbats ‘s Happy Pills PSD set (turned to 20% on both folders)

CANVAS SIZE: 1920 x 1080 (but screen size might vary?)

THE STEPS (”right-click > open image in new tab” if its too small!)

^ 1) slap your image on your canvas with all the bs listed above (or whatever you use as your editing psd!)

^ 2) since my current scene outside in the realm was kinda bright (for early early morning/late night of 3am in-game if i remember correctly lmfao), i had to tone down the brightness as well crank up the contrast for some Nice Touch of depth or whatever idk words. it makes a difference fam.

^ 3) this is what the brightness/contrast editing did btw. now, i stayed on the picture layer and used the flood select tool and grabbed morgyn; while keeping them selected, i made a new layer with that button on the side mhm. it’s time for some light editing hahah

^ 4) disregard the pun, im dumb lol. anyways, i took some peachy-orange and drew on some points where the light (from the opposite doorway in which they had exited in post 3) hits them. it’s not accurate but it is what it is. I set this layer to “overlay” and the opacity to roughly 50-40%. Make a new layer!

^ 5) new layer: do the same exact thing but with finer brush lines but in white (or off-white). This is more of the highlights on the sim (or subject, whatever you’re editing). Set this layer to EITHER “overlay” or “soft light”, then play around the opacity until it looks natural. you CAN take a soft-edged eraser (set opacity to about 20%) and kinda soften up the brushing so its not too sharp and harsh. CTRL+D to deselect the subject.

^ 6) this is the outcome :3 see the shadowing and lighting? it looks like the warm lights from the hall to Morgyn’s left is hitting them ~ Now, that things look okay, click off the brightness/contrast layer (you’ll wanna save this) and everything else EXCEPT for your picture layer and the layers you just did (lighting and such). Now you want to right-click on a visible layer and click “Merge Visible;” this merges the visible layers into one (I do this so that things dont get messy and disorganized in my layers bc i mass-open 4385873246 pictures and my post-edit psd has so many layers as it is lol) (but this is also a key thing to do for later steps~)

^ 7) Now with your merged layer of the edited pic, you want to duplicate the image layer so that you have 2. On the top layer, flood-select your main focus—this can be a sim, or a few, and the front-and-center focus area of the image. Once the stuff is selected (make sure you zoom in and get all the little details ie hair, etc), you want to hit your “delete” button on the keyboard (or use the cut tool, whichever is easiest) and watch the stuff poof, as shown above.

^ 8) grab your blur tool and set it to this setting. Then what i do is i just click on the (still top layer, the one with the erased focus!) layer and go HAM with the mouse. PS does this thing where the more i waggle the mouse the more it blurs. i just blur the background for 10 seconds and release. tada all blurred tf out. then, i go to the bottom (untouched!) layer and use a smaller size of the blur tool and lightly edge around the subject, just to casually blend the subject and background so that things look smooth. when done, merge visible again!!

^ 9) I then go into Topaz Clean 3 and smooth out the image!! here are my settings ^-^

^ 10) now my morgyn is a sunkissed-freckled bby. but topaz washes them out almost all the way :c so i take my splatter brush and zOOm in on their cute face and use an eyedropper to grab the color of one of their kinda visible fweckles. then i just splash that brush aLL over their face/skin in general. then i set that layer to multiply, then opacity like 20%?? Then i take a soft edged eraser, opacity to 20%, and kinda spam click all over to not make the “freckles” so consistent but also to blend them in a bit.

^ 11) this just shows the settings and outcome of the sunshine bby ♥

^ 12) these are just what i have set on the Happy Pills PSD Set! I have both folders set to 20% because at 100% + my reshade, shit’s bright as fuck [swEAts] lol. so I turned them down a bit and adjusted as so ~

^ 13) and finally, with all visible layers merged into one, the brightness/contrast layer turned back on, the Happy Pills PSD folders turned on, and my cinematic black bars on, we get the final image :3 here’s the pic after i finished some additional editing for my story post part 4

(: !!! I hope this helps lolol ^^ ♥

#answered #labeling as #wcif #bc of the resources i used #nonsims #editing tutorial #jdfhsgbjhfd idk

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randomoranges · 5 years ago

Text

Perfect Cities Painting

Edward kicked the doormat back into place after he retrieved the keys and let himself in. He had tried knocking several times, but he supposed the loud jazz music coming from the open living room windows had camouflaged his knocks. He didn’t know what he expected to find on the other side of the door, but what he found surprised him.

Étienne was in the middle of his living room, in front of what looked like an easel and a rather large canvas. Both were placed on top of a stained drop cloth and Étienne stood in front of this, wearing a sleeveless shirt and a pair of sweatpants that were equally stained.

Edward stopped, his breath momentarily taken away by the sight before him. For starters, he had no idea that Étienne painted. His friend had never mentioned it and he had never even seen a painting in the apartment.

But it wasn’t just his friend’s unknown hobby. It was the way he looked. Étienne, bathed in golden sunlight, his mass of curls tied up in a lose ponytail, the light bringing out the natural highlights of his hair. He watched, mesmerised, as Étienne made broad strokes on the canvas, a look of complete peace and concentration on his face.

From his angle, Edward could see only one side of Étienne and he observed the muscles of his friend’s left arm at work, the Stanley Cup tattoo that covered most of his upper arm seeming lighter in the afternoon sun.

If he needed a word to describe the scene, it would have been beautiful.

Étienne stepped away from his easel to mix more paint and finally noticed his guest. He smiled at Edward and walked over to his radio to lower the volume.

“Hey! Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in! How are you?” Étienne hugged him tightly and kissed him on both cheeks, as he would have an old friend. “Were you supposed to be in town and I forgot, or?” A flash of worry appeared on his face and Edward was quick to dismiss it, reassuring him that this was a rather impulsive and unplanned visit, courtesy of work.

“You paint.” Edward blurted out as a way of greeting.

“Yeah, I do. Come in, make yourself comfortable.”

Étienne took his hand and dragged him to his painting. Edward felt his heart beat a little faster. He looked down at where Étienne’s stained fingers closed around his own and tried to figure out what it was that felt different about his friend.

“I didn’t know. I’ve never seen you paint before. You never mentioned it.”

Maybe this was a recent hobby, he figured, but judging by the amounts of tools and material that were set up around the easel, he wasn’t so sure.

“Oh, yeah. I used to paint a lot more before. Well – I’ve always dabbled, but I picked it up a few decades ago.” Étienne picked up his paintbrush and resumed his piece as if this wasn’t a bombshell and as if Edward didn’t know any better when Étienne said he “dabbled” in something.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I was part of this community and we used to paint.”

“But what about your pieces? I’ve never seen them.”

Étienne paused and then shrugged. “Oh, we had our own space. I left my stuff there. Then, I either reused the canvases, gave them away, I think I may have sold a few – don’t ask me why, and I might have some in a box in my closet, or something.” He stepped back from his painting, frowned, and then changed paintbrush. “It’s a hobby really. Nothing more. I find it relaxing. I’m not doing this to sell paintings.”

“You – you have some here?” Edward asked, curious to see some.

“Yeah, you can look at them if you want.”He sounded so casual and nonchalant that Edward was having difficulty wrapping his head around any of this.

“Yeah?” Edward would have thought for sure that they were some secret thing, and instead was pleasantly surprised that Étienne wanted to share, even if it seemed rather – sudden and far too easy.

“Go ahead.”

Étienne pointed to the entrance closet with the end of his paintbrush and Edward moved towards it. He rummaged through it, knowing Étienne kept odd things in the back of it and he was surprised when he found the box of canvases. He thought the box would have been harder to find and retrospectively, he wondered why he had never stumbled upon it earlier. He pulled it out from the depths of the closet, through the coats, shoes, and other boxes, and then went to the couch to look through it attentively.

Étienne spared him a glance over his painting and smiled encouragingly.

Edward was stunned to see the various different sizes of paintings, ranging from tiny to big. There were also sheets of paper with sketches hastily stacked in and a multitude of sketchbooks, piled at the bottom of the box. It didn’t seem as though Étienne cared about preserving his work and Edward wondered why. Edward took out one of the smaller paintings and studied it. It was... he wasn’t sure what was going on in the painting, to be honest, but it was captivating.

There was an eclectic mix of bold colours placed in such a way that nothing was recognisable. No figures or shapes were distinctive. Yet, the lines were vivid and strong shapes danced before his eyes, giving him the energy of the piece.

He put it aside and looked at the next piece. It also seemed to be abstract, with bold blue lines juxtaposed with semi-transparent red ones, which went in many directions.

The same was true for the next several pieces and the sketchbooks held various human like figures that were grotesque in appearance. Yet, despite that, Edward was amazed. Each piece had a strong sense of vibrant energy, from the angry, thick brush strokes, to the juxtaposition of colours and shapes. He didn’t know what they meant, but he could tell that there had been thought placed in the way the colours had been applied to the white canvas.

“These are great.” He finally said; quiet, as if coming out from a trance. He felt a connection to the pieces, as if part of Étienne was hidden in them, left there for him to find and understand, but the moment his mind started to wrap itself around the message, it was gone, teasing him to look in the next one.

Étienne laughed. “You don’t have to sugar coat it. I know it’s not everyone’s style.”

“No, really, I like them. They’re bold.”

“Well, thanks.” Étienne hid back behind his canvas, focusing on his painting and Edward couldn’t see the emotion hiding on Étienne’s face.

Edward frowned and changed places so that he could look at Étienne to get a better read on him. He tried to figure out what it was that was different about him on this particular visit.

Étienne continued to paint, moving about his work, while the jazz music continued playing in the background. Edward felt drawn towards Étienne and the calm energy he seemed to be giving off. He could sit there and watch the other man paint for hours.

He watched as Étienne knit his brow in concentration and stuck out his tongue. All he wanted to do was get up and kiss him, let Étienne explore his body with those stained hands and wild eyes. He looked back to his face, to his wide green eyes and finally knew what it was that was different about him.

“You’re happy.” He murmured voice thick with awe and want. He rose from his seat and went to stand next to Étienne, arms itching to wrap around him, hold him close and feel him pressed to his chest.

His friend looked away from the smeared canvas and gave him a quizzical look. “I guess? I mean, painting makes me happy.”

“It looks good on you.” He admitted. The openness in his eyes, the carefree attitude with which he moved; it was as if Étienne’s guard was down and Edward could glimpse a part of him that was often hidden and closed off to all. He needed to taste and see this side of him that he seldom saw. Needed to feel it to make sure it was real and that he hadn’t dreamt any of it.

Edward stepped behind Étienne and leaned his chin on the other’s shoulder, feeling him move as he continued to work. His friend laughed and leant back into him, letting himself be held.

“I could paint you next, if you want.” Étienne suggested, a smirk playing on his lips, and how Edward wanted nothing more but to turn him around and let him do that and more.

“Are you implying something by that?” He asked, his voice low, breath ghosting on Étienne’s neck. He was no stranger to Étienne’s games and he knew that the best thing to do was to follow along – he could always get something out of it as well.

“Only if you want me to.”

“Good. Then why don’t you finish up over there and then you can redirect your attention to me. ”

He nipped at Étienne’s neck, passing his hands under his shirt, feeling warm skin. Étienne stilled and then relaxed under the familiar touch, shivering slightly at the contact, but he couldn’t say he minded. Edward gave a content sigh, feeling at ease with Étienne there in his arms, the way he sometimes wished it could always be.

“Give me a moment and I’m all yours.”

Edward rolled over on the drop cloth and pulled Étienne’s body to him. He pressed a kiss to the nape of Étienne’s neck, his hand caressing down the length of the rose and lily ivy tattoo on his body, before resting on his hip. Étienne turned to face him and he was blown away by the strong look of joy on his face. For a moment, Edward thought he read something else in those green eyes he had come to like – more than he could have ever thought he would – but then Étienne drew him close and kissed him, his eyes fluttering shut. Edward forgot about it and instead focused on Étienne, here in his arms, his body warm and welcoming.

FIN 27

Started writing: February 19th 2017, 11:23pm

Finished writing: February 20th 2017, 5:50pm

Started typing: April 16th 2017, 1:05pm

Finished typing: April 16th 2017, 2:04pm

#pc: montreal #pc: edmonton #Edward Murphy #étienne maisonneuve #fic #projocanondoko #perfect cities

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