#this but background full of ferns

[pinksilvace]

JUST finished boarding my first animatic... time to do everything else...

[gothgengargirl]

The Works

You came to the new salon mostly on a whim. It was a Sunday, so it’s not like you had anything special in mind for the next day. Just work. Boring, dreary, work. But you thought that feeling pretty might help the work week go a little more smoothly. Give your colleagues something else to talk about besides meetings and progress updates. You wanted to feel seen for once.

For such a nice place, it was a pleasant surprise that you were able to get a walk-in appointment. Fern’s Grove, it was called. Cute name. The ceilings were high, and the place felt remarkably open and airy for being just another building in a strip mall. A fountain bubbled away cheerfully, a variety of exotic plants growing alongside it. The air was even perfumed, floral and berry-like, but in a way you couldn’t quite place. And the woman at the counter, who set your bag in a drawer and got you settled into a astonishingly comfortable chair, was gorgeous. Everyone who worked here was gorgeous. If this was how they took care of themselves, you felt like you were in good hands.

Your cosmetologist came up to you just as you were getting settled. She was just as beautiful as everyone else, maybe more so, with her dramatic cat eye makeup, purple hair and generous curves. She handed you a laminated list of your options, and you could hear her whistling cheerfully in the background as she got her instruments together and you looked over your choices. Hair cut, hair color, hair extensions. Face wash, moisturizing treatments, full makeup. Permanent makeup? That sounded intriguing. Manicure, pedicure, they even offered waxing services (presumably those were in another room). And one thing at the bottom stuck out to you, drawing your attention like a light in the darkness.

The Works.

“I’ll take The Works, please,” you said, almost instinctively. You wanted to see what this place could do.

“Sure about that, doll?” Her voice was sweet like honey, with an edge of something in it. Condescension? Anticipation? Both?

“I’m sure.”

“Okay, then, The Works, coming right up. Lift your arms.”

You did so instinctively. You were always good at following directions. And you thought you knew what was going to happen. She would put an apron on you to protect your clothes, you would talk about what cut and color you wanted for the hair, maybe get your shoes off and your feet soaking for the pedicure.

That’s not what happened.

Cables descended from that high, airy ceiling, and wrapped themselves around your wrists. You tried, briefly, to pull away, but you were held in place. Like a puppet on her strings. Clamps emerged from the chair to do the same to your ankles. You were stuck.

A momentary wave of panic was replaced by a curious fear, as you could feel something seeping from your new restraints. Soaking into the skin of your wrists and ankles. It felt GOOD. Like you were being polished from the inside, like all of the tension in your body was replaced with pleasure. And as you sank back briefly, She placed something over your head. A visor. You tried to close your eyes, but the flashing colors shone through your eyelids, and you opened them out of curiosity. And once they were open, you never wanted to close them again.

At first the messages were simply soothing. Telling you to relax, to sink, to accept all of the new feelings in your body. And there were new feelings. You couldn’t see anything but the swirling colors, couldn’t hear anything but the whispered suggestions from that set of headphones that must have come on just after the visor. But you felt good. Hands nimbly massaged your scalp. The waves of whatever it was from your restraints spread all the way through your arms and legs, making them feel limp and loose and silky smooth and perfectly plastic.

Plastic?

Perfect. Plastic. Puppet.

Pretty. Programmed. Plaything.

This was what the suggestions in your head were saying now. And you kind of liked the sound of it. On some level, you knew that you had work in the morning. You were a Busy Woman With Important Things To Do. But you always hated it. There was another way now? And at least for this afternoon, you could enjoy being a

Perfect

Pretty

Plaything

...

Time passed. You couldn’t tell how long. Minutes? Hours? Days? Time felt less and less meaningful, paying attention to the sensations running through your body. It was almost like an orgasm, but orgasms came and went much faster than this. This was a slow build, leading to a great flowing tide of ecstasy. You didn’t want it to stop. You never wanted to stop being a programmed plastic puppet.

But then, as suddenly as it started, it ended. The visor and the headphones were pulled off. The restraints at your arms and legs snapped open, your arms dropping into your lap. Your hands moved automatically, one of them grasping a breast, the other rubbing at your crotch shamelessly.

As your eyes focused again, you were amazed with what you saw in the mirror. She… you… was different. Your clothes didn’t fit the same way—blouse swollen and buttons open, skirt disheveled and riding up over thicker thighs. Your mouth was hanging open, lips larger than they were before, and your tongue was hanging out. It was pierced! A blue gemstone sitting in your pretty pink mouth, its color matching your new long nails, your thick eye shadow. Your gleaming metallic hair. And the place on your neck that didn’t even look like flesh anymore. It was seemingly embedded in your skin, blue circuits tracing out from a thick black band.

A Collar.

You didn’t even look human anymore, did you? You looked like…

A Doll.

“What do you think, hun?” said the voice behind you. The voice you now instinctively knew as Owner.

“I don’t think. I just obey.” Automatic.

“Good girl. Stop touching yourself.”

You did, immediately. Arms limp at your sides. Awaiting further instructions.

“What are you?”

“I’m just a doll. An empty-headed plaything.”

“Excellent! And what do you want me to do next?”

“Please…” these words felt like they were escaping from your soul. They were your soul. All you had left was this one thought.

“Please play with me”.

You saw Owner’s luscious mouth open into a wide toothy grin as you said that, watching her and you in the mirror. And then you didn’t think anything else. Not for a long while. Dolls don’t think, they just obey.

Good Doll.

[camilleisdrawing]

they might be married a bit

[ID: Pavitr is wearing an eggshell-colour kurta pajama, a nath/nose hoop, many necklaces, and other shiny jewellery including the ring on his left ring finger, his hands up like a dance pose, his smile wide and proud. Their faces beside each other, Hobie hugs his waist, showing the audience a spiky ring on his left ring finger. Hobie is wearing an embellished deep red sari, bindi, nose ring and multiple bracelets. He has fresh flowers in his hair. Both of them wear henna on their hands and arms. Hobie's resembles spider webs or his torn fishnets, Pavitr's lotuses in full bloom. They also wear floral garlands on their neck. They look like a paper cut-out on a lime-green, cyan, magenta and violet halftone collage background, which consists of various leaves and flowers and a terracotta vase. Fern, lotus and gardenia just to name a few. Photos are taken from our garden.]

[ofsappho]

Magindara

When invaders threaten your home, life, and people, you, a sirena, strike a desperate bargain with Dream of the Endless to save them all.

Dream of the Endless x mermaid!reader, one shot (for now)

Tags: war, gore, torture, death/murder, mentions of SA, slavery, things that generally come with colonialism

Inspired by the episode “Jibaro” from the Netflix show Love Death + Robots. This one shot draws heavily from Filipino mythology, culture, and history. I ENCOURAGE and INVITE people who don’t come from a Filipino background to read this story and enjoy! There is so much beauty to be had in cultures of color, for everyone. Just as I have read many stories steeped in Greek, Celtic, Norse, medieval England, etc cultures, without coming from those backgrounds, I humbly ask you do the same and entertain this little fic. Thank you. I may write a follow up if there’s interest. Glossary at the end.

-

From the banks of your river, you can hear the horses.

Metal plate clangs and screeches against itself, swords jostle in their sheaths, and shields bump where they rest on armored backs so loud that you want to scratch your sensitive ears out, just to make the sounds stop.

Your ates and kuyas hide deep below in the caverns known only to your kind. When you close your black eyes, you feel them tugging at the edges of your mind like little lights in the deep darkness of the sea. They believe that will be enough to save them.

Only you have braved the surface, because only you know what these strange men upon their strange beasts want.

They want the gold in the dark, fertile earth. You don’t understand why - it’s just shiny metal. Only the dwarves under the hills covet it. But the men who ravage your lands and your kin like wildfires, grasping everything and destroying it in the same breath, care very much. They want the never-dying orchids that line the banks and the brilliant emerald green vitality bursting from every leaf and vine that could keep a mortal alive for a thousand years. They want to feed their glory on your broken bodies. They want to take the people you protect for slaves, the women shamed and disgraced and the men subservient and humiliated.

You’ve seen it for yourself.

You’ve tasted the water of streams running red with blood, the iron like acid on your blue tongue.

You’ve swam farther and seen enough to make you hate. Families torn apart, children with their hair cut off and given names in an ugly language, forbidden to speak their own - the same language you speak. Fathers dragged onto large ships, larger than a butandíng, never to return. Altars burned. The men put your red sisters who live in the balete trees, their hair tangled with vines and lovely, fierce, flickering yellow eyes, to the flame. You witnessed their dying howls and curses for vengeance.

Some of the white-haired annani have already begun to clip their pointed ears, tear the crowns of flowers from their hair, and even cut out their tongues so as to lock away the magic these men desire, never to be spoken again. “There is no place for us,” Those tall, graceful elves told you. “We will be gone in a generation, by sword or by starvation.”

They’re coming.

The jungle is quiet as it has never been in a thousand years.

You could no more hide your tail, glittering blue and turquoise, with long, sweeping fins like ferns, than you could hide the long sweep of hair that reaches your waist, or the ink-black lines embedded on your skin, painting your face, your neck, and your arms with the story of your people and your home.

The calls that echoed from the depths of the river have stopped. It seems that your family has accepted that you won’t come back.

You look at your webbed hands, test your claws against your flesh. What is one magindara to a hundred conquistadors?

When the men spear you, they won’t just be slaughtering a mermaid. They’ll be killing the stories you keep. Centuries of stories. Countless names. Each pearl around your neck is a tribe, full of the old songs of grandmothers and the new rhymes of babies. You’re draped in thousands of shimmering strands of pearls.

You may not be the cleverest, or the most beautiful, or the one with the sweetest voice…

But you can be the bravest.

“Lord Morpheus,” You intone, frowning as the syllables ripple wrong and harsh from your throat.

You’ve never spoken to any of the gods beyond your islands before. “Dream of the Endless.” All you can do is hope and pray this one listens and comes to you in time. Will they be kind? Will it be merciful? Will he, or she, save your home?

Perhaps such a god does not exist at all, and you are praying to wind and sunlight, and soon your guts will color the cerulean water purple and black. The strange men will defile your body, no doubt. A week ago, you crawled from your river to cut down the corpse of a long-gone ate from a stake, jagged holes ripped into the tail of her corpse that made you vomit and her dead eyes full of pain.

Once you’d laid her to rest in the water, she dissolved into nothing. “Prince of Stories,” You sing. That is what faces everything you’ve ever loved if you fail.

“I beg you, save us. Save our stories, our dreams. We call for your aid.”

The men bark at each other. Any moment now, they’ll see you, your hands raised and your face tipped towards the heavens, inky flowers blooming on your forehead and cheeks and crocodile teeth tattooed on the sharp line of your jaw.

A new quiet falls over the world. Like nighttime, when things are resting, not dead.

You have called, and I answer.

A being stands on the banks of your river in the shape of a man. His hair is blacker than Bakunawa’s maw and his eyes are filled with gold and silver stars brighter than any you’ve seen before. His pale skin carries no markings.

He is as grotesquely, menacingly beautiful as the razor’s edge of shark teeth, as a great python curling in a tree, as an eagle with its claws stuck in the beating, bleeding heart of a monkey.

You feel the weight of his gaze on your brow heavier and hotter than the sun on the longest day of summer, burning out the truth in your heart. “I would bargain with you, Dream Lord. For my people, and my land, and my home, which I love more than my own life.”

What would you have me do? When Lord Morpheus speaks, his voice pours through your mind ringing like the purest, clearest freshwater.

The many jewels around your throat, pearls, sapphires, rubies, diamonds, plates of beaten gold, click as you swallow nervously.

The dream king stands so tall that he could touch the sky if he reached up. And he doesn’t look away or blink. You can’t read the inhuman planes of his face whatsoever, you can’t find any familiar sign in his long limbs that might bring comfort. For all you know, you’ve spelled your doom.

“Keep them alive. Keep our names and spirits alive. Bring our stories into your kingdom so that we won’t be forgotten. That is what the men want. They want to raze us to the ground and rebuild the world in their image but we will not go.” You pause. “We will never, ever go,” You growl, fierce and deadly, around a mouth full of fangs. In your words you pour the horrors you’ve seen, combined with the beauty surrounding the two of you.

The hot, muggy air, the warm rain, the scent of night-blooming jasmines. Orange mangoes, bursting with sweetness, bamboo sticks clacking as joyful youths dance in and out of them, laughing gaily. Rolling drums. Bright feathers tucked into black hair. A toddling child reaching out to her grandmother with a chubby-cheeked smile, pressing the back of the withered, ancient hand against her little forehead. Love, so much love.

I have not walked these lands before.

You found traces of Lord Morpheus scribbled in the margins of paper and in the back alleys of lost dreams. Your last and only hope.

When you went to Diyan Masalanta, she wept and showed how the soldiers bound her hands. When you cried out to her brother, Apolaki, the sun god called back and said the invaders took his shield.

Bathala is gone. Mayari is gone. Lakapati is dead. The conquistadors stripped her naked, cut her ribs from her chest, and planted her bones in the fields they set their slaves, your people, to work.

“They say you are Endless. You preside over all beings in all places. Please, I beg you, preside over us. Are we not worthy of your favor? Do we not deserve to live in your dreams and nightmares?”

If Lord Morpheus refuses you, you’ll cut your throat before you let your enemies have you.

He tilts his head like he can hear your thoughts. One shining hand stretches out, almost as if to touch your face. You sing prettily, little siren. You draw back with a start. Why is there hunger in his voice? A hollow, all-consuming, terrifying hunger?

You know what it feels like to starve when the fish are scarce. This is leagues away, a typhoon to your trickle of rain. Shadows bloom under his hollowed cheeks. His pupils eclipse his brilliant aquamarine irises.

He’s-

He’s aching.

Morpheus flashes his bone-white teeth as he bends at the waist to examine you further. His gaze traces your tattoos, your large, frightened eyes, and your body beneath the necklaces and bracelets.

As scared as you are, as convinced that you’ll bleed the instant his fingers brush your blue-streaked skin, your numb lips move.

“I vow to you now, Lord Morpheus, before every god and being I know, that should you render us this aid, I will give you anything within my power to grant that you wish.”

Anything?

“Name it, my lord, and it shall be yours.” With that, your eyes flutter shut as you await his judgment.

You can’t hide from him, even in your mind. You don’t see him, but you feel a straining pressure build where he prods at you, pushing on the fragile edges of your being like he’s cracking a duck egg. He claws and scrapes until-

I will aid your people.

You open for him like a sampaguita flower. Dream of the Endless picks through your soul like he’s picking blossoms, you feel how much he wants with every brush, every long moment where he sticks his fingers in and relishes the feel of you. Nothing has ever touched you like this before.

He’s on his knees on the riverbank, the dark soil pressing into his clothes. His hands clench the rocky edge of the bank. Your wet hair sticks to your back as you rise up, close enough that you can count his night-black eyelashes. There’s a dizzying amount of them.

“Thank you. Thank you. Salamat-po. And your price, majesty?”

You’ll do whatever he wants. Does his thirst demand souls? You’ll harvest them by the dozen. You can picture Lord Morpheus unhinging his jaw, swallowing those soldiers whole. Their swords wouldn’t even scrape him going down. Riches? You have no use for them if you’re dead. He can take every speck of wealth to be had.

You. I want you.

Your sisters and brothers wail. They sense the foreign king tearing at the flesh binding you together. They feel him taking a knife to your indigo heart and cutting it loose from your body. Your head tilts back as you gasp for breath and see him hold the organ aloft. Dark blood trails in rivulets down his wrists.

“I-“

There are no creatures like you in my realm. So I shall have you, in every way that I wish, and you’ll obey. Those are my terms.

Your tail lashes in the water as if you fight hard enough, you can swim away. The cavity pulses with searing, unholy pain. You’ve made a mistake. You’ve summoned- He is an aswang, a devil, a soul-eater, you’ll never see your home again, you’ll never touch the water you’ve known since birth.

Lord Morpheus brings your heart to his mouth. His lips are beautifully-formed. You can’t find it in yourself to hate such a wondrous creature. Even your amethyst ichor looks more beguiling when he’s covered in it.

It was never a question. “Yes, my lord. I accept these terms.”

His white teeth stain purple when he sinks them into your heart.

-

Glossary:

Ate (ah-tey) - sister

Kuya (koo-yah) - brother

Butandíng - whale shark

Balete tree - very cool large tree native to Southeast Asia

Annani - elves from the stories of the Ibanag people, who look like humans with pointed ears. They are kind guardians of the forest and often share healing knowledge with humans if treated with respect.

Magindara - mermaids from the folklore of the Bicolano people. Beautiful half human, half fish guardians of rivers/streams/lakes/the oceans, who sing to lure fisherman and warriors to their death but leave children unharmed.

Bakunawa - a great mythic serpent and god/goddess of darkness. Various myths place Bakunawa responsible for eclipses.

Diyan Masalanta - Tagalog goddess of love, war, childbirth

Apolaki - Tagalog god of the sun and war, patron saint of warriors, soldiers, modern day patron saint of Filipino traditional martial arts (Kali/eskrima/arnis) practitioners

Bathala - the Tagalog supreme creator god

Mayari - the Tagalog goddess of the moon, war, revolution, and justice. She fought her brother Apolaki for dominion over the heavens.

Lakapati - the Tagalog goddess of fertility, food, bounty, balance, and prosperity. She represents both male and female and has both male and female genitalia. Patron saint of queer/trans people.

Sampaguita - the Filipino name for sambac jasmine, the national flower of the Philippines

Salamat-po (sah-lah-maht poh) - thank you (utmost respect) in Tagalog

Aswang - overall name for the malicious/demonic/monstrous beings in Filipino folklore. Vampires, zombies, ghouls, organ eaters, cannibals.

I hope you guys liked this! Let me know if you have any questions or want to read more from this.

[gardenletter]

Yandere orc x reader ❤️🔥🥀🔪💚 part 2

(We have met my uncommunicated goal for notes sooo let's gooooooooo)

That all Happened nearly 9 years from now...I still think of Xurl a lot.

Hope he's ok...

Time has changed a lot of things.Who know 9 years can change the world so much that the war is over... for the most part.People are living together.But Mixed species kingdoms aren't nearly as common and there is still prejudice,but things are getting better...

I wonder if I will meet Xurl again.will he even remember(....ooooooooOOO he REMEMBERS LOL)

I grab my Herbs as I walk out the door.I was met with trees and ferns as I enter the woods and make my way to town so I can open my shop.Time went on and I became an herbalist and became well known for my knowledge of various species needs...I believe that everyone deserves treatment and their species shouldn't stop me from doing that...it was hard and a lot of work.learning from so many different masters of so many different cultures and backgrounds was hard...but worth it.I made it to the clearing that my little town was in as I walked down the street to my small shop. The mornings were always the same

TO DO LIST

Start the fire

Make miss.Greenwoods green tea

Make the needed medicine

Make extra cold medicine (it's that time of year)

Give Mr.pine his medicine hidden in a cookie

Not very specific but it helps

I open the shop and start the fire to make the tea and follow the list from there.

The sun soon fell and the day ended.Closing the shop and entering the forest was always nice at night with the stars doting the sky.As I walked the path from the town to home I heard the sound of a wage coming...RIGHT FOR ME HEAD ON as I see the lantern light swaying from its holder. The wage was soon at my side and two arms were around my waist."who would have thought taking someone was so easy" a scruffy voice says as his lips were nearly tickling my ear.My heart starts to race and I start to squirm as I realize my situation,I start to claw at his hands and arms but he was strong...way stranger then I was.his companie just chuckled at my struggle and tears fell from my eyes...what's going to happen to me.

I smelt something...something I held dear to me, practically an obsession but it's been years...I had false hope before but something in me told me to follow the smell and my instincts.I left the cave I took cover in and followed the scent and as I adventured in the woods I came across a screen of someone being kidnapped...if there how I think they are...those men are dead.

I ran at full speed as I graded the head of the man holding the kidnapped person.I threw them across the forest floor and heard cry's of pain from the man of the floor .I heard the shock of the two still left on the wage.I soon grabbed the other kidnapper and threw him to the forest floor and anger rushed through me but I must stay calm(he not calm at all). I try my hardest to gently say"cover your eyes and ears" and as Soon as I saw the dark shadow of person in the wage cover their eyes and muffle there ears I walk over to the man on the cool forest floor. I see the terror and disbelief written all over their faces. Their eyes the size of bowling balls...the kind of face I felt petty for before I got into my line of work.With out remorse I crushed their skulls under my foot. I look back to the wagen and see the shaking small form.I slowly wakes closer and breath in their scent...it....it was y/n... it had to be.my heart started to beat faster and I feel butterflies in my stomach.I whisper as gently as I could "y/n...is that you...are you ok" the smaller form turned to look directly at me for the first time ..."t-thank for h-helping me sorry I'm just shaken up"

I looked at them....it....Was y/n.With out thinking I picked y/n up and held them close to my chest.

I didn't know if I should be scared shitless or feel safe as this orc straddles me in his arms.He felt so warm and safe...almost familiar...then I remembered he said my name."um do I know you...you said my name but I can't seem to place you...were you a past patient". After I said that he gently put and hand on my cheek and his face looked soft."No y/n I know you for much longer..you were my best friend..Im Xurl".

when his words finally seeped into my thick skull I gasped and tears welled into my eyes.

"Xurl"?..."OH MY GODS"

I warped my arms around his neck and buried my face into his shoulder.He held me closer and tightened his grip on me and with a shaky voice I say "thanks for saving me" my tears returning to my face.

"of course...I'm only returning the faver after all these years"

I invited Xurl to my house (ovy) and as we made our way there Xurl never let me out of his hold.The only time my feet hit the ground was at my front step."sorry if it's to small for you..."He only smiled and bucked his head under the door."nice place...it's almost as cute as you"I blush at his comment and look at him with a pout...this was the first time I saw him in...9 years...and the first time in light.

He was so different.

He was very very tall maybe around 6'7...7'0 tall with a toned body and a sharp jawline and his choice in clothes didn't help my wandering eye.He was only wearing a jacket and pants leaving his chest bear.His long dark hair was in a half up half down hair style with braids and gold jewelry.His tusks also grow...and they now have a thick gold ring around them.

"you like what you see"?...

"Yes...I mean you changed...a lot the last time I saw you.You were barely taller than me then me back then. he chuckled "Its nice to know you're just as cute as I left you",my cheeks became a deep red and I look at him.

"When did you become such a flirt hmmmmmm...I bet you flirt with anything that breathes."

He looked at me with puppy dog eyes . "Only if the things that breathes is you" I laugh at his trouble come back....

"I'm not lying....you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.Even when we were kids"...I froze at his words"you mean that"and he says so low and soft I could barely hear it "yes.i could never lie to you y/n"and he snatched me into a hug.

As I felt y/n agents me once more i could feel the instant relief...y/n was perfect so cute...small...I could die.But I must restrain myself .For y/n and what we can be.I finally asked the question that was itching at me sense I got here.

"y/n...can I stay here with you"

"Of course"

HELLOoOOO dear reader...thank you for reading my silly little storyyyyy💕.If guys like Xurl and want more of him show some love so I know you are interested in a part 3.hope you are doing well (some time later...WE HAVE A PART 3)

Gardenletter 💕✨

[leaves-and-inks]

🌿 Old Bones, Old Souls 🌿

The world of velociraptor is buried deep, deep in time. There is so much we’ve learned about it, yet so much we don’t know, and may never know about this ancient animal.

Hi everyone! It feels good to finally post this!! I’ve been rather swamped, but updating my tumblr is one thing I can check off the list!! This piece has been done for a little while, but I’ve only just had time now to format it. I remember doing the rough sketch of this back in the fall and not being too thrilled, but I can now say that I’m really happy with how it came out! This piece also is next to the dragon “Emerald Mist” and I feel they pair really well together :)

This is the last piece to catch up to my other social media, so things will slow down again after this!! I have some plans in the works for the future, but unfortunately I don’t have much of a time scale on it because it depends on my health and my school work. Regardless of when exactly, I am excited to make some new work!! :D

[ID: Sketchbook page with digital alterations featuring a velociraptor skull, ginkgo and fern leaves, a fossilized velociraptor claw, and a feathered velociraptor. The page is done in various colors of ink, the subjects being in black and sepia liners, while the background is made up of blue and green squares and rectangles, overlapping behind the subjects. In the top right is a velociraptor skull, facing 3/4 right and down. It is made mostly out of black lines, but with shading and details done in sepia ink. Its mouth is slightly open, and it is missing some teeth. It is also missing it bony eye supports. it overlaps the background shapes on the top left of the skull, along with the lower jaw, and bridges the gap between the two top shapes in the middle of the skull. Next to it on the righthand side is the gingko leaves and fern leaf. It is laid out vertically, the fern leaf, drawn in sepia ink and behind the two gingko leaves. The top gingko leaf overlaps the bottom one, pointing in slightly different directions. The leaves are also done in sepia ink, having white outlines to better differentiate them, along with sketchy yellow ink coloring. The leaves break the shape on the top, right side, and bottom, and only overlaps the one square. In the bottom left corner is a shaded study of a velociraptor claw fossil. It is completely done in black in, white a thick black outline. It only overlaps the lower square at its tip, which points left. The final drawing is a mostly full body sketch of a feathered velociraptor, cropped only at its tail, which fades out to the left side of the page. It its a side view of the raptor, who faces right. However, it looks over its shoulder to the left of the page. It is slightly hunched over, its arms lowered. The left arm reaches slightly more out than the right one, and it also steps forward with the left leg. It is mostly drawn in sepia ink, however non feathered areas (mouth, legs) are done with black ink. It also has a back and sepia brindle pattern on its back, along with a black stripe that starts at its eye and goes to its tail. Its body overlaps on top of the two bottom shapes. The sketch and background shapes are on an off-white, paper textured background.

Image 2: Crop featuring the velociraptor skull. It gets the whole skull in the crop, along with the leftmost side of the gingko leaves and fern.

Image 3: Crop focusing on the fossilized velociraptor claw. The whole claw is in frame, along with a portion of the bottom half of the tail.

Image 4: Crop focusing on the feathered velociraptor. It gets its whole body in the frame, minus the tail. In the top left corner, the ends of the upper and lower jaw of the skeleton are visible, along with the end of the fern in the top right.

Image 5: Crop focusing on the gingko leaves and fern. They are entirely in frame, along with a portion if the upper jaw, just after the nostrils. /end ID]

[pearlypairings]

Pssst.

Hey.

Hey you...

I did something, mmm, kinda out of the ordinary for my usual writing routine. AKA started a fic that's not hellcheer for once😅 forgive me Father Eddie, for I have sinned—

jonathan x chrissy | wip : 6k wc | slowburn, angst, eventual fluff | ch 2/?

summary: a photography commission from the unofficial Queen of Hawkins for her boyfriend sends introverted Jonathan Byers on a reluctant journey, discovering not all cheerleaders are the same. Some are very observant, thoughtful, and even full of self-doubt and responsibility like him...

read below the line for a preview :)

Jonathan carefully plucked the latest batch of photos from the first wash bin. The darkroom was bathed in red with the faint hum of the safelights burrowing into the background, Jonathan’s focus undeterred by the constant buzzing. Whenever he pulled those heavy darkroom curtains closed, he drifted into another world, a state of perfect flow for his work.

Last weekend he’d spent over 6 hours stalking through the woods, hoping to find the perfect overcast shadows over Skull Rock or a fawn grazing on the new growth at the edge of the pines. Instead, Jonathan had stumbled upon the ruins of a Hawkins High party, practically apocalyptic in nature with the way cans, bottles, and clothes were left strewn about the brush and the earth floor.

He had nearly rushed through the littered party ruins until a glint of the noon sun caught his eye. Under the cover of a weedy fern, a dainty gold necklace glimmered in the light, half-covered in patches of dirt and surrounded by a heavy shoe print, a thick-soled sneaker by the looks of the imprint. It was almost too poetic; the year of his graduation stuck out from under the dirt, bathed in a golden light, while the chain buckled under the dirt and grime of the life around it, like dismal foreshadowing.

Minutes ticked on as he adjusted his camera’s lens for a close-up, leaning back on his left foot to get the angle just right for the flare above the "86" pendant. He snapped two just in case—keeping his fingers crossed that he captured the foreboding atmosphere. There was something magnetic about it.

The rest of the afternoon he shot about a dozen more photos, including a rabbit poking its head out from its burrow which the older Hawkins folk would adore, a family of mossy stones congregating by a snaking vine, and a majestic hawk, brownish in color, opening its wide wingspan from its perch on the pine tree.

Not his best nature photography by his own scale, but there had to be something usable for the Hawkins Post, who always seemed in need of decent local photography to accompany their articles. He’d already been featured twice this past summer from his photos of the town fair and the downtown block party.

Jonathan had to wait until today to process the film; Tuesdays were when Mrs. Franklin unlocked the school’s darkroom for the school newspaper, The Weekly Streak, and the yearbook club. Jonathan had joined both groups in order to utilize the room for free and made sure to at least do the bare minimum for each club meeting. Mrs. Franklin turned a blind eye whenever he brought in his own film to develop, casually complimenting his artsy photos of sad, empty parking lots, once even slipping him a Lincoln to tuck a portrait of a distant stranger at Lover’s Lake into her spiral agenda.

Being a senior meant he only had one more year to take advantage of free film developing, a perk he never took for granted, since his part-time job at the Hawk barely covered the extra groceries at home—let alone stuff for Jonathan’s expensive hobby. Film added up pretty quickly, so whatever change was left over from his paycheck, he scrimped and saved until he could buy another 33mm cartridge from Melvald’s. The supplies for developing were way more than that and harder to conserve. With that somber idea in mind, he took care in transferring the first three photos from the prep solution to the next chemical mixture, not wasting a single scrap of this opportunity.

Some days he wondered if the acrid fumes helped or hindered him, the chemicals seeping into the air with a heavy, almost-metallic smell. As a freshman, it used to burn his nose, his eyes, any of the sensitive sources for sensation. Three years of experience later, he barely noticed any odor, having drifted with the humming of the safelights into the background of his awareness.

With the last slosh of the bath, Jonathan nearly jumped with the classroom light suddenly poking through the slit of the door creaking opening. If these photos were ruined, he’d have to start the painstakingly lengthy process all over again from the negatives. Fred Benson, another senior in the journalism club, had a habit of ignoring the “in use: keep out” sign and incidentally destroying all of Jonathan’s hardwork with his objectionable entrances.

Jonathan sighed, almost a groan by its volume, in exasperation. He didn’t have the energy to deal with Fred’s incessant questions right now; he always seemed to have special requests for his articles at the last minute. And while he claimed to prefer Jonathan’s work to the other student photographers, it never stopped him from making Jonathan retake photos of the same art class gallery or demanding another professional headshot for his college portfolio.

He covered the bins and snuck past the curtain protecting the developing photos, narrowing his eyes at the unwelcome thorn in his side. “Fr–”

“I’m sorry,” The voice that interrupted was sweet, meek even. Definitely not Fred’s weasley intonation and that caught Jonathan off guard. “Fred said it was okay to come in, but I should have waited—you look busy.”

Chrissy Cunningham shrunk her frame, her arms crossed over her cheer sweater, with the dip of her head showing off the blonde bangs perfectly coiffed over her brows......

More in the link:)

[winged-wolf-s-collection-of-arts]

pinned post! latest edit: April the 10th

Howdy!!! I'm Doc, or Wolfy, or whatever name you want to use. Any pronouns are fine!

I have an unreliable sleep schedule/forgetful/message notifications don’t show up- so if you need me uhh keep yelling until I notice? Aaahhh...

Not a system! I have a dozen sonas/fursonas (not sarcasm) (I hope you plural peeps have a good day-)

I put reblogs in a queue or schedule!! If I like an art post of your but don't reblog, don't worry, it'll be out in a week or so.

--

Tag list, ordered by most common to least common in each category. Starting with my personal tags, then general navigation tags.

Art tag: wolfys art (my art), 2022 artchive (specifically my art from 2022)

Cool art by pals: grand showcase of arts

Doc says something: wolf chats

All art month challenges: Just Here To Have Fun

Kiley and co stuff (commonwealth setting): little wastrels

NOTE the au is getting rebooted so old stuff is not canon.

second fallout au (island setting, custom location for an rp): badlands crew

My main story stuff, not fallout: Split Fates au

posts that vaguely relate to my ocs: jeanposting, jerposting

-

Other aus- SCP Jailbreak!, museums monsters n marvels, voidspace crew, When Multiverses Collide, eternal spring

I kind of hit my story with a hammer and it shattered into a million pieces. oops

--

Misc fandom tags: fallout, whump stuff, bg3, doctor who, ace attorney, hermitcraft, qsmp, warrior cats, good omens

Misc common tags: described (posts with image or video ID), michaelnordeman (his animal photography), birds, food

important tags: reblogging for future reference (general tips), promo (friends news), boost (donation posts), flashing, eyestrain, psa

"You have to reblog!" And similar phrases: rebait

Subcategories of tips tags: drawing tips, writing tips, fave (personal favourites), cooking tips, health tips, tech tips. (more to be added soon)

Note- these are not tagged reliably: ghouls, zombies, blood, skeletons, suggestive, insects, spiders, guns, drug use, smoking, all caps, partial nudity, death

--

Characters that frequently appear are... ( updated 10 April, more descriptions to be added soon, please hold!)

Rabbit: A human-sized anthro rabbit! Light grey and white fur, green eyes. Usually in a grey suit with a green tie and gold scarf- or in white robes with gold jewelry. Sometimes drawn with long curved gold colored horns.

Wolfy: A cartoony anthro wolf, exactly five feet tall! Medium grey fur, has oval mirrors (with two shine marks) in place of eyes, and has grey and purple wings and a bird tail over his wolf tail. Always in a medium grey suit with a purple tie. Sometimes drawn with deerlike antlers.

Parsure: Looks like a blonde and light skinned human dude with dull blue eyes! He has shoulder-length hair with jagged bangs, and has a goatee and mustache. Always wears jeans, a white t shirt, red converse shoes, and a leather jacket. There's a large red bullseye on the back of the jacket. There's patches on the left sleeve: A red X symbol, and a night sky with a black stripe down the right side. On the right sleeve: A yellow axe symbol, and grey hexagon with a blue and orange background.

Jerome Drew (should be updated to Jerome Heulwen, I'll get to it soon), <- my main guy :D

Rev -(belongs to hollyrosecheeks),

Vince: A were-snow leopard! Um. Imagine a snow leopard, but with gold eyes.

Jodie: A were-pine-marten! Like a ferret but bigger, brown furred with white patches on the face and chest.

Kiley: (new oc, aaaah- I will redo my reference soon)

Jean: (probably) human dude with short brown hair! Wears a full mask that looks like a crow’s face. Usually wears a white shirt, grey vest and tie, grey slacks, and brown dress shoes. Sometimes wears a simple black jacket. Or a scarecrow's hat and black gloves.

--

Psst if you have a spare dollar can you pass it along to my pal Fern!

Cashapp: cash.app/$AustinToach

PayPal: paypal.me/AustinStidham

Venmo: venmo.com/u/Austin-Toach

uh if you show me you've donate something I'll draw you a doodle-

--

End of the post! Have a good day, wahoo

[hpowellsmith]

Honor Bound Character Intro: Savarel

Savarel is a newcomer to Elene's Prospect and Ozera School, having moved to the town a few months ago with no family connections there. They briefly had a job elsewhere, but are now starting to put down roots as the town priest, assistant to the town doctor, and school nurse at Ozera. Will you build bonds of friendship or romance, work for mutual goals together, or end up clashing?

INTRO POST | BONUS PLAYABLE PROLOGUE | DEV DIARY & FEEDBACK THREAD | PATREON EARLY ACCESS DEMO | PUBLIC DEMO COMING 4TH JULY |

Full name: Savarel Lopes

Age: 28

Gender: selectable between cis man (he/him), cis woman (she/her) and agender (they/them)

Background: having grown up in a recently-built town in the rainforest, Savarel remained in the military after completing Teranese Service, trained as a medic, and joined a disaster relief team as a medic and, later, as a priest as well. About six months ago, they were discharged with honours thanks to their aid work in the wake of tsunamis across the Teranese Islands. Now, they divide their time between a few different part-time jobs and associated responsibilities.

Personality: driven, warm, principled, hard-working

MBTI: ENFJ

Appearance: of medium height and build, with olive/light brown skin and dark eyes, and wavy black hair that reaches to around their chin with a few grey hairs here and there.

Style: Savarel usually wears loose, comfortable, flowing clothes in undyed or lightly dyed colours. They always wear a pendant depicting a blue fern, the symbol of the Church of Teran, but no other accessories or ornamentation.

At their best: earnest, ethical, meticulous

At their worst: workaholic, independent to the point of harm, self-righteous

You'll like Savarel if you like… mutual support, shared experiences of trauma and recovery, teaming up to work for something bigger than you, unpacking layers of obligation and survivor's guilt; someone who will do what they're certain is the right thing at cost to themselves or their reputation.

You'll like romancing Savarel if you like… looking after someone who finds it hard to look after themselves, being looked after at the same time, exploring vulnerability that isn't revealed to others, someone who will go all in on you, who wants to connect but struggles to feel they deserve it, who is very keen to give comfort and support.

[daydream-cement]

No but how would ferns family (parents & grandparents) react to finding out fern died and the two “incidents” at her stay at nevermore (the whole Thornhill thing and the death connected to plants on a new level thing). Especially curious how they would react to them finding out due to a slip of tongue (for example them talking about what they’ve been doing and either fern or Larissa says something like “after the incident….”

-Ara

there is a little snippet for you:

"Fern Elizabeth! I was taking my grandbabies for a walk and please tell me why there is a tombstone with your name on it?"

You and Larissa exchange glances. You were both driving home from the yearly outcast educators conference when your mother called. Her voice rang over the speaker phone and you felt your grip tighten on the steering wheel.

"Well, I- It's really a funny story..." You reply, trying to find the right words to explain to your mother.

"Larissa Marie? Any words? Any explanation?" Larissa and you had been married long enough that she was no longer safe from your mother's wrath either.

"There was an ancient curse of sorts years ago and Fern saved the school." Larissa's explanation was a start, but it certainly didn't satiate your mother, "But she died in the process."

"You died? What kind of outcast foolishness is this?" Your mother still didn't grasp the full scope of outcast life, nor did she understand the diversity of abilities and dangers that came with it.

You could hear Violet in the background talking to your mother, "Granny Di, mommy was saved by the power of love. That's the story that mom tells me."

Larissa smiled triumphantly to herself, happy that her daughter was using her version of the story of your death. You mother didn't seem so convinced by Vi's version of the story, "Fern..."

"She's technically not wrong. We can share the full story when we get home, but essentially... I was chosen by the forest, after an initial near death experience, to use my powers to save the forest from the third coming of an evil pilgrim. I had to give my life to save the forest, but my life was returned to me as a token of gratitude from the forest. Larissa planted a tree on my grave that saved me from being buried alive."'

Diane stood speechless.

"Mom?"

"Diane?"

"Mom, are you there?"

"I'm here. I just have no fucking clue how to respond to that." Diane admitted, her voice was one of absolute shock.

"Grandma!" Violet yelled.

"No swearing!" Althea chimed in.

"Good work kids!" Larissa encouraged loud enough so the both of them could hear.

"Mom, I promise. I'm okay and everythin-"

"Nope. I'm sorry I asked. This is outside of my wheelhouse and I have no interest in ancient curses or pilgrims. Just keep Larissa and the girls out of that nonsense."

[spotsupstuff]

Dyou associate any smells or tastes with your ocs?

I think caper would taste like pomegranates (or just capers lol)

And haboob looks cheesecake flavored

Sparrows smells like fresh cut grass and rain maybe

Spore is obvious

And I'm not sure about the others

hmm............ Euros keeps reminding me of either raspberry or strawberry jam, mostly cuz of his colors and cuz he's usually a sweet guy. also jams are hardwires into my brain as Slavic Things™ cuz of cartoons n technically speaking, with the RW map over real world map thing, Euros n Sparrows r russian so like... brethren...... he'd ALSO smell like a strawberry/raspberry jam. really strong sweet smell

Sparrows is blueberry and her smell would be wind in meadows in early morning. something very timid that falls into the background of perception

Haboob is a green olive!!! or pears. both smell n taste

Boreas smells like thunder and lighting- basically rain but way more oppressive and powerful and electrified. taste would prolly be like licking keys or smth like that, no actual food

Zephyr smells like cut grass to me! combined with ferns and a little brook. OH also coniferous trees!!

Notos smells like the night or a cave. very cold. her taste is like bitter purple grapes that makes you scrunch up your face n everythin

Orion is obivous (milk Orion choclate but also this sweet called Mila actually), Spore is specifically champignons on a pizza, NAE smells like vanilla, Expiation is a bubbly grape soda, Gem like a forest full of water and her taste is like red semi-sweet wine and like Vinea (local soda drink that mimics wine with coloration so kids can join their parents in Them Cheers) when she's actually being nice

[444lpblue]

Frieren: Beyond Journey's End #6 - The Hero of the Village

Screenplay: Tomohiro Suzuki Storyboard/Episode Director: Tooru Iwazawa Chief Animation Director: Reiko Nagasawa Animation Directors: Keisuke Hiroe, Akiko Takase Key Animation: Mayuko Kandori, Ayaka Satou, Airi Takahashi, Dana Akahara, Hidekazu Ebina, Toshiya Kouno, Kohaku (Yutaka Nakamura), Kai Shibata, Hironori Tanaka, TOMATO, Keisuke Namioka, Ruoyu Wen, Tsutomu Miyazawa, Yukiko Busa, Eiji Yamamori, Rai, Keiichirou Watanabe, Hiroyuki Kobashi, Toshiyuki Satou, Yoshiko Matsumura, Shun Enokido, Chris (Yen bm), Mark Kenta Corcoran, Takahito Sakazume, Mami Takaishi, Youko Tsukada, Hiroo Nagano, HAHI, Houjicha, Saho Miyano, Shingo Yamashita, Tatsuya Yoshihara, Ruochen Liang

IT WAS SO GOOD, IT WAS SO GOOD..Uhh mhmm.

This week's Frieren episode was a showcase of the animators that the show continues to hold, top-tier level animators who you would typically see creating "sakuga" moments for just a few moments in a show. However, they are constant animators throughout the entirety of Frieren. And while you should have already been impressed, the Stark fight scene against the dragon truly showcased their talents.

An underrated role that people don't typically mention is the animation producer, who is mostly responsible for gathering the animators for a show. In this case, it's Yuuichirou Fukushi, who has been the animation producer for Sonny Boy, takt op.Destiny, One Punch Man, and more. The staff he assembles for his shows is simply top-notch almost every time, and I felt like I needed to mention that, especially when he is now responsible for two of my personal top shows, Frieren and Sonny Boy. Takashi Nakame is also listed as an animation producer for the show, but I don't know as much about him. Nevertheless, he should also be mentioned. In the Stark fight scene alone, you have Hironori Tanaka, Keiichirou Watanabe, Shingo Yamashita, Tatsuya Yoshihara, Chris (Yen bm), and Yutaka Nakamura. That's a team of multiple superstar animators that you wish one of them would be in your own show, but Frieren has all of them together, and the result is something you just have to see for yourself.

While I never really read Frieren's manga for its fight scenes, I was excited to see the action scenes in the animation. We did see it in the four-episode debut, but that was a more stationary wizard magic battle (which was still very cool). However, Stark vs. the dragon feels greatly enhanced compared to the manga. Just from the moment Stark runs to engage, the camera naturally follows him as he charges in, continuing to track him as if it were a boss fight in a video game. The fluidity and character acting amidst all of this action are phenomenal and it's all done in completely 2D including the backgrounds and dragons which is rarer nowadays.

The decision for a closer, more dynamic adaptation of the fight scene can be credited to Tooru Iwazawa, who is the action director for this episode. He also storyboarded and directed the entire episode.

Setting the action aside, I loved the episode as always. The attention to detail in translating the characters' expressions from the manga to the anime never ceases to amaze me. As someone who used to collect Fern's funny faces in the manga, I'm delighted to see all of them in their full glory. It's also heartwarming to witness the budding relationship between Fern and Stark in this episode.

[the-possum-writes]

Green Knight (Fern), prompt 12, full moon. Non-binary/gender-neutral reader goes for a walk with GK, it’s a full moon, and things get a lil risqué in a clearing. Everything else is up to you!

🍁[Halloween Prompts] 🎃

12. Full moon

A/n: Oh hey it's you! ☺️ Won't be needing to tag you in this one hehe, good day.

🔸Character: Green Knight (Fern)

🔸Fandom: Adventure Time

🔸Tags: Suggestive content, Gender neutral reader

🔸Wordcount: 708

🔸Taglist: @watchingfromthefloorboards

Small talk is non existent between you and this green knight. Your muddy boots on the other hand, chat with the forest soil as you stomp through crunchy leafs and twigs, the trees eventually thin out into a clearing, unraveling the full moon that was hiding behind tree foliage looming over your head for the past hour.

While GK carries most of the scavenged goods on his back it doesn't slow him down in the slightest, he walks past you with a grunt. "What's the hold up? Move it." he commands from under his helm, but you ignore him, in exchange for plopping down on the nocturnal grass.

"We've been going on at it since 8am, let me catch a break." you insist but the knight isn't persuaded.

"Gumbald wants this stuff by dawn," his tone reminds you of a pushy ex manager.

"If he wants it so bad he can come for it! even better just take my part and go on without me."

The crickets singing in the background is comically fitting when he doesn't snap back, eyeing your burlap bag with consideration before giving up with a sigh. Raising the visor from his helm like a sign of peace, "Ten minutes." he states, dropping his own share of scrap metals as he joins you on the ground. You stare upwards, admiring the celestial object floating in the night sky, its complete body bright enough to illuminate the clearing. When walking through the forest you could only see glimpses of its light, but now that it's in full view it's nothing but relaxing.

"9 minutes." your friendly knight interrupts your train of thought.

"Oh glob, what are you an alarm clock? Enjoy the scenery dumb dumb, you've been cooped up inside Gumbald's lab I thought you'd appreciate it.." you snap back, but the way he avoided your line of sight was a telling sign that you pinched a nerve. "...Sorry."

"No need, you're not the one who shredded me to pieces." his tone softens, leaning back as he preps up his upper body with his elbows. "He brought me back and gave me this cool armor, the least I could do is scavenge and deliver stuff on time." Green Knight stared at the bag he was carrying before redirecting his gaze at the moon.

He so pretty like this, the moonlight reflecting his armored body, so many spikes hiding a soft interior.

You scoot closer to him, not caring if it left grass stains on your bum. He's worth it. "Hey. How about we pretend nothing of that exists? just for the next 8 minutes." not only did your body get closer to him, but so did your hand. Gently encasing it over his, the pointy gear felt uncomfortable in your palm but he reshaped it so that it was his normal hand intertwined with yours. Gk wiggles his fingers for a bit, feeling your  tender skin against his grassy one before gripping it tight. Oh how he would cherish the touch of those hands on him, so warm, so comforting. The moon remains as the only witness during the first kiss, soon followed by another, and many more after that. An ever growing want surfacing between the two of you with each lick and involuntary whine, your hands going up to his chest as if he were a life ring keeping you afloat from drowning further, if the moon could talk it would call you out for lying. I mean, you're already tipping on the edge here. Your knight in shining armor coaxed you onto of him, knees already on either side of him as you  mount him like a trusty steed.

With a final breath you pull away from Fern while a trail of saliva glints in the night light, giving the young man a taunting smile as you remind him. "It's already been 10 minutes~"

GK makes an audible groan, sounding more annoyed than anything. "Forget about that." he pulls you in for another smooch but you lean away. "But what about Gumbald?" you continue to ruffle his grass blades.

Your Green Knight grabs a hold of your legs, pulling you closer to him as he states. "Gumbald can wait!"

That's the spirit.

[follyglass]

Follyglass : View

It was, she decided, time for a change. After living six years in the house her mother had left her – only her, her mother’s will stipulated, as Bren was the only one who could properly care for the house – she finally started to feel as though it might actually be hers. It was hers, right? She looked around. Everything from the hutch to the briar-patterned curtains and even the wonky toaster somehow still belonged to her mother. And though she dutifully ate dinner every night at five-thirty in the dining room, there was one chair that she never sat in: the head chair. It was her mother’s, and she suspected that she would always feel it was her mother’s place.

Really, all of it was still her mother’s place. Mostly, it was a comfort.

Ever since Bren was three, her mother had taught her the rigid rules of upkeep. And so the toaster still gleamed, the worn towels were folded the same way as her mother had taught her, the clocks wound on the equinoxes.

Sometimes, Bren just wanted her own clock. One that didn’t need winding.

It was time, Bren reasoned, to make this house her very own. She was going to change the curtains for something striped. Add some fresh color. One of those huge old french posters. Perhaps paint the sconces. Get rid of that rug; it was stained anyway, a memory of someone’s birthday a decade or so ago (and the stain always bruised her mood, as her mother said the stain was Bren’s fault for not cleaning it correctly). But the more she looked around and saw the stacks of blankets, and couches, and pillows and books and linens and candlesticks and vases she became quickly overwhelmed, her spark faltering. And then she realized that there were twelve more rooms full up with Mother's belongings.

Perhaps she would start tomorrow. Yes. That’s the idea, tomorrow. She could read a book instead, and perhaps the story could drive away her traitorous enthusiasm. Stories had a way of occupying space, of chasing away sorrows. Bren had learned this ages ago, when the one-two combination of ammonia and cloying rose oil chased her into the corner of her room. But then she realized she had the same thought, the same spark of a new beginning only a few months ago. And if she didn’t start, would Bren just have these same thoughts all over again in a week or months? So, now. Now was the time to begin ridding her house of most of her mother’s things. But where would she begin?

She recalled some advice about starting with one small action, no longer than five minutes. What easier thing was there than one small change?

Bren knew where the change was to happen; there was a painting in the dining room of a drably colored forest scene – it featured in the background of all of her memories here, partly because she hated it. The composition was wrong. The light unnatural. Where other paintings might have a deer or bird or something, this one seemed to lack life. The artist was unknown, the painting undated. And when she got old enough to see these things, it only made her more frustrated. What was the point? Why did her mother like this painting? And why did she insist on polishing the frame every day? Any questions Bren had asked her mother while she was alive were met with a tight face and hard gaze.

The only question that remained that she could answer herself was ‘do you want to continue dusting the carved whorls of the frame?’ and her answer was ‘no,’ so she placed a firm hand on the frame and began to lift the painting off the wall…and its view shifted. Now, she could see the edge of sky deckled against the treetops. And when she slowly spun to move the painting off the wall, the view spun with her as though she had held a window to another world.

It was magic. All of this time, and she didn’t know.

Why did her mother not tell her? Bren’s mind reeled. Where was this place in the painting?

Bren slowly spun while holding the painting’s frame, taking in the views. A heap of ferns browning against moss. At the bank of a brook, a tree great and gray, stripped of its leaves. The forest darkened and deepened, the rounds of sunlight becoming smaller until they looked like flickering candles in the night on a distant shore. A stillness threatened to settle over her heart as something else came into view; as she brought the painting ‘round to her mother’s favorite chair, Mother’s crudely rendered likeness floated into view. She did not move. She could only stare back at Bren with eyes hard as stones.

[robboyblunder]

Because I've been binging Stardew Valley I was inspired to create a complex piece featuring my farmer, Jasper! I really love the bountiful beauty of the game even if it's simplistic in style. This piece is fully traditional ink pen and alcohol markers on paper! :)

image ID under the cut!

(please don’t repost or use this, and leave my description; thanks! reblogs super appreciated!)

start image ID:

a traditional ink pen and marker drawing on paper featuring a custom farmer from stardew valley surrounded by different aspects of the game. The farmer is looking up to the left at the full moon where a meteor is passing by in a hole through colorful clouds. Falling from the sky are star shards and iridium ore. The farmer is carrying a blue backpack, the galaxy sword, bamboo and iridium fishing rods, tools of varying metal quality, and a basket bursting with crops, a stardrop, and a pink junimo cheering in the center. On his shoulders is a gray and white cat with a red color pawing playfully and the fish bursting from water on the right side including two serpents, the crimsonfish, and a super cucumber. Playfully clinging to the farmer are three more junimos on his tools on the left while a rock crab bounces up near the farmer's legs. The background is full of various plants from the game including salmon berries, fiddlehead ferns, palm trees, and various brush from cindersap forest.

the second extra image in pink is a disclaimer that reads ‘please don’t use or repost somewhere else’.  

end image ID.

[forgetmenightshadevn]

THE LONG AWAITED DEVLOGS BEGIN.

Abyss here! Sorry for the delay!

Since we're in early days, I don't have overly much to put here, but I wanted to get into the habit of writing these. I want there to be transparency on what exactly is taking so long as we work, and help you to feel as if you're going along on this journey!

That does mean that there may be things mentioned here that end up not making it into the finished product. If you have questions on the status of anything, always feel free to ask!

As it stands: I'm slowly teaching myself Tyranobuilder, and so far things are going smoothly. I'm already itching to add animations and jumpscares and all sorts of stuff! I'm trying to move slowly and not get too ambitious for the demo.

Scripting is coming along nicely, I have a full outline for both routes in the demo, each of which have three basic endings. There is some 18+ horror content in the demo but no adult themes. The full game WILL have both though!

The backgrounds are all being hand-painted, which, as you can imagine, can be labor-intensive. We're discussing ways to streamline this for the demo without cutting corners or losing the quality of the work. Currently, backgrounds are full-color, like so:

But we may decide to go with a stylized way of minimizing the amount of color, such as making the backgrounds and CGs mostly greyscale with a few pops of colors for accent. Like so:

If you have an opinion on one or the other, let me know! One of course is more colorful, but one will mean a faster demo! Neither one is finished, of course, but it at least gives some idea of how they would look.

The sprites will be full color no matter what. We should have some previews of those to share soon!

Music and voice acting are both undecided: we have to decide about budgeting, but it's too early to think about that yet!

Thank you everyone for the support and questions! I'm sorry for the delays in updates and responses: my day job is as a gallery artist, so I also need to allot time for refilling inventory.

Happy belated New Year!

Abyss/Fern