#yellow+blue=green so take the yellow out of the equation and makes it a pale blue of some sort lol

[akkivee]

how we feeling about jyushi's possible heterochromia???? moonlight/blue??? aquamarine/blue???

[wandaluvstacos]

BRIGHT DAY BLUE DAY

CHAPTER 31 IS NOW UP

In the city of Yukiktrum, the hierarchy is clear even when the laws are not: Alphrim rule, betsra serve, and ometki bear young. Claiming a part of the city is easy, but keeping your territory is not, so Alprhim like Chramkut govern with talon and tooth. Maintaining power means control access to ometki, and by selling access to both them and their eggs, Chramkut has turned Themself into a ruthless and wealthy warlord.

Untkra once served as Chramkut’s prime ometki, but that time has passed, and Untkra has been replaced by someone younger. After one failed escape, it was only Untkra’s history with Chramkut that saved them from execution. Untkra knows that getting caught trying again will get them executed, but Unktra is willing to sacrifice everything if it means leaving the conflict-ridden city of Yukiktrum behind. This time, Chramkut’s prime laden ometki wants out, and they’ve begged for Untkra’s help. Untkra is done bearing offspring Untkra will never meet. It’s this way or death.

However, the desert landscape beyond the walls of Yukiktrum is hostile and unknown, and there’s no guarantee that there’s anything out there worth escaping to. What Untkra may not be ready for is what hope lays beyond the dunes, and the redemption that a new home can offer. Yet when another ometki needs saving, Yukiktrum calls Untkra back in what could be Untkra’s most daring rescue yet. 

Genre: Sci-Fi

Rating: 18+

T/W: This story is dark in nature, and while nothing explicit is ever shown, there are repeated references to rape (including underage), sexual slavery, and I suppose what equates to child trafficking (is selling eggs considered child trafficking?). There is also violence, murder, drug use, and prejudice/bigotry. This story also contains the trappings of a/b/o. It’s not so closely married to the trope as most a/b/o fics, but it is quite obviously based on it. 

Excerpt:

       Akche wasn’t sure at what time married couples decided to have sex. The Alphrim at school always joked about it, but there was no discussion of the specifics. Akche’s teachers had covered the details of it around the time Akche hit puberty, but again, they had spoken like Akche should know how to proceed the moment they had the access. It wasn’t that Akche didn’t want to, but in their fantasies, it had always been a given that the other party was interested too. Vamtlak seemed about as interested in fucking Akche as Akche had in finding sand roaches living in the kitchen sink drain. Some might say that the betsra’s opinion of it didn’t matter, but even if Akche could take advantage, the idea of it wasn’t titillating. Akche needed to feel wanted, not tolerated. Forcing Vamtlak would probably make them hate Akche, and Akche already felt resented enough. They were always told that Alphrim were protectors, and Akche couldn’t claim to protect someone while harming them. Akche would rather Vamtlak like them. Akche enjoyed being liked.

            Still, Akche found themself staring at the back of Vamtlak’s head, wondering what it would be like to kiss them. Akche had never kissed anyone before. Vamtlak always smelled a bit like food, and Akche liked that. Even though Vamtlak was tall, they had that slim-flanked betsra frame that Akche enjoyed looking at. They also took good care of their feathers, which were a pale yellow at the roots and a pastel green at the tips. Akche wanted to touch them, just to see if they felt as soft as they looked.

            Akche shifted onto their side, and they saw Vamtlak’s shoulders tense. Akche had thought someone being scared of them would be flattering, but instead it made Akche feel ashamed. They hadn’t done anything to Vamtlak. In fact, they’d probably done more than your average Alphrim to make Vamtlak feel at home. They told them to visit their bet-itlapt and a friend who lived just down the street. They complimented the food they cooked after every meal. They’d slept next to them every bright day without touching them. What more could Akche do to make them feel safe? Were all betsras this jumpy?

            “I’m not going to make you do anything,” Akche said, voice seeming overly loud in the confines of the bed closet even as they attempted a tone barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to be afraid of me.”

            Vamtlak didn’t respond for a few moments before slowly rolling back a shoulder to look at Akche. Their pretty pink eyes were full of apprehension. “I’m not.”

            “You sure seem to be.”

            “Just homesick, that’s all,” Vamtlak murmured, returning to staring at the opposite wall. “Thank you though.”

            There was a long silence as Akche considered what to say next. Finally they sighed and decided it was time to get up. They weren’t getting any more sleep this blue morning anyway.

[morg-among-the-stars]

Twilight/Duvet

Word Count: 1,937

(Inspired by the Vibes™️ of the songs, “Duvet” and, “Twilight” by boa. It’s tells of River and Payton’s last kiss, as we all know of the first.)

————————————————————————

The first kiss ever shared between Payton Hobart and River Barkley is one to be documented as unorthodox but wonderful.

It was a first, special for many, many reasons. But the last has its own importance.

Though, what comes in between the beginning and the end? The middle, those little insignificant moments that would end up swimming in Payton's mind after blood had gotten onto his hands; what would flicker in River's mind when Payton comes to him, spewing off in a rage.

Before the rage, there was peace. In that peace, his constantly moving world slowed down for a while.

The first kiss was short and sweet, sparking something new; a snowball effect.

Something new that Astrid would hear of, leading to numbers two, three, and then a blur until River's lovers left the hotel room in tears; first Astrid, then Payton much later.

But two and three, then the blur where all eager, wanting to be close, but never close enough.

Astrid was jealous of that. Really jealous.

Eager and close was different from the first, but difference isn't unwelcome.

After the fog his mind was in for the next few days, a fog of, "Oh my God, I almost slept with River Barkley," Payton lost direct count of everything. That pissed him off initially; he likes keeping himself and the people around him in order.

Though, order goes out the window in the safety of River's blue bedroom.

Between them, it's never said that River's room is safer or that it's preferred over Payton's, but River doesn't have the threat of cruel older brothers or the generally cold gaze of his father looming over him.

River has his own guilt and Astrid's glare burned into his mind.

That's enough.

But the threats and gazes are less prominent in the Barkley home than in the Hobart's; if they ever got caught, they wouldn't be shamed or mocked most likely, but questions about Astrid and Alice would be asked.

They keep their intimacy in the privacy of River's bedroom, in pale yellow and orange sunset afternoons and black and navy star-speckled nights.

Both of which have their moments.

River, of course, is not going to be picky over what time he gets to be with Payton, but he likes the sunsets the best.

Payton, in bed, with the sun from the big balcony window against his face.

He looks like an angel, he always does without fail. His eyes, gray with blue and green and a little bit of brown when River has enough time to really look at them... all swirled together, shining in the dying light.

He always makes time to look at Payton's eyes, to read him; to understand him in those moments.

Though, there are many times where Payton will shut his eyes and kiss River just so he doesn't have to be read so sincerely.

A distraction from his own thoughts and whatever River might find, he never wants him to dig too deep.

Kisses like those, where River wants to appreciate Payton's glory, but Payton can't stand it for too long, make up whatever handful of numbers come after the blur.

Maybe eleven, twelve, to fourteen small kisses, Payton can't keep track.

Payton likes the dark navy nights, because he can't see River and River can't see him.

They understand that each other are there and know where things fit into place, where hands go, where this-that-and-the-other go, but they cannot see the fine details of everything.

He likes these nights because he can lose himself in River and not see his face, he can strain himself and continue to detach himself from intimate times; it's all for the sake of pleasure, nothing more, nothing less.

Payton takes being intimate— together for the sake of being with one another— and tries to take that out of the equation.

Intimacy without being intimate, which amounts to something that serves its purpose, but River wishes Payton would look him in the eye during the night.

River, the same as Payton, looses track, but he only counts to one.

He'd only ever wanted that one kiss, every number that proceeds it is an added bonus.

He's known Payton, or rather of him for years, hearing him brainstorming and spitting off ideas about the steps required to accomplish his dream in the library long before their first Mandarin lesson.

For a while, he was intimidated, but then he saw what lies underneath all the ambition and precision.

Don't take it wrong, he'd fallen in love with the ambition and precision, but the underlying current of truthfulness had plucked his heartstrings the right way.

There's a time between orangish yellow and pitch-black navy, the last, but it's own first.

It's nearing the end of Summer, not that it means much for Southern California, but school is about to start up again and Payton is anxious.

But he's at River's house for another visit, one of the last before he'll have his head in his textbooks and research articles until June.

His first real campaign will be launching, pity to the poor fool who dares to go up against him.

In his anxiousness, wanting August to end and for September to desperately begin, he gets out of bed and opens the balcony door as quietly as he can.

The world is quiet, he can hear the water coming up to shore.

That was good day he had with River this summer, walking along the beach late in the afternoon. The ocean water had been a little cold against his feet and the sand was too hot, but he'd found a happy medium with the wet sand in between.

Payton has never been a beach-goer, but watching the sunset while River tried to teach him how to skip small pebbles was an exception.

Listening to the water and trying to relax his mind, he looks at the sky, in between his favored starry blue and River's golden yellow. Little streaks of purple and a pinkish color are present, too.

Twilight.

"What're you doing up?" River asks from behind him, moving to stand right next to him.

"I'm anxious for school to start," He admits straightforwardly, "I've got big plans."

He's said that for years now, he's got big plans, which he does.

It rolls of his tongue easily, a saying that'll win him the majority vote.

River smiles at him a little, still half asleep,

"You're the only person I know who's excited to get back to school." He teases, "I thought you said you were gonna enjoy the last days of summer."

"I am! I'm just getting excited. Getting excited for school is enjoyable for me." He says, smiling faintly himself.

The soft smile doesn't leave River's face, he's always happy to talk to Payton, even at dusk.

Though, there's something that he knows that Payton doesn't; he won't say it now.

Astrid has big plans as well, plans that River will enact on her behalf, because it's what's, "best for him."

River leans against the balcony railing, looking out at the blue, yellow, purply-pink sky, feeling happy in this moment in time.

Payton calms his racing mind, breathing softly in and out, in and out.

He reaches four breathes in and out, in and out, and looks at River, peaceful and incredibly gorgeous, like Poseidon himself.

He is hit with a sweet thought, a first of its kind.

River looks at him and meets his half-happy and half-pensive gaze, leaning a little forward to listen to talk and then listen to him,

"What're you thinking about? I know that look."

River's face is tired but kind, curious and wanting to listen. Payton never wants him to dig too deep.

Payton looks out at the sky, rainbow colored and beautiful, a balance between the times where he's had his own motives.

Where River is satisfied and dazed by the end of every time, but he looks like a piece of the equation is missing.

He looks right at River, at his eyes that hold an entire gradient of blue in them.

Impulsively, with a revelation of so much euphoric feeling crashing into him at once, he kisses River.

This isn't to distract himself, nor is it to lead him to bed.

This one is solely for River, Payton loves him. Oh my God, he loves him so damn much.

He loves this, so ironically, he loves summer and lazy, indulgent afternoons and other adventurous days with River.

Learning to skip pebbles in the cool ocean water and going on long drives just for the hell of it, where River insists on time away from preliminary studying.

It's sweet, it's the type of sickening sweetness that gives him a stomach ache.

He's come to love summertime because of River.

Though, quick and aching, what he's just done hits him as well. He pulls back a little and looks at River for a second. There's still a small amount of space between them, they are still quite close together. Payton lingers in the space before taking a physical step back, going back to avoiding his eyes like usual.

Summer is over now, get back on track.

A goal to achieve, plans set in stone.

River isn't upset, just startled and caught off guard.

The space between them, though small, was comforting. Payton was close to him and now he isn't, looking regretful.

"I'm sorry," Payton spits out quickly, though his voice is quiet, "I don't know why- why I... God." His voice is quiet, but shaking; wanting to build his defenses back up but keep them down at the same time.

The war never fully stops.

River let's the space between them stay still, he doesn't move,

"Payton, come on, look at me. It's okay. I'm not mad or anything, you just startled me a bit. I swear."

Payton looks at him, the fleeting moment of bliss replaces itself with guilt.

Guilt more than regret, or maybe a mixture of both.

School is starting soon, get back on track.

Alice, the perfect First Lady and a dream-team of his childhood best friends.

River has Astrid, that ice-cold, bitchy, damn-

"It's late. We, we should go back to bed."

"Payton, if you want to-"

Payton clears his throat and blinks hard once,

"River,” He says, “I don’t want to talk, I’m tired and so are you.”

The walls are build up fast, the concrete barely has time to dry.

The two of them settle back into bed, underneath the soft duvet and sheets.

River has some sort of instinct by now to cuddle up to Payton, hold him tight until morning.

But he doesn’t, he keeps to himself and Payton doesn’t rest his head near River’s chest to hear his heart.

When morning comes, River is alone in bed, his heart feeling sore, painfully sore.

Payton isn’t in the other room or down the hall or in the bathroom.

He’d gone home without a word, gone home to repress himself further.

The politician is going to win, pity for the fool who dares to go against him.

River is the fool, led by her majesty.

Payton wants to overthrow the monarchy and with an overthrowing comes anger.

Rage.

The memories of their eighteen months spent together stabs both of them in the heart as River takes the easy way out, a tragic goodbye.

River passes by the light of the vibrant sunset.

Payton watches the sun set and then to dusk, where twilight comes slowly once again.

[shadows-starlight]

Shadows and Starlight

Book 58: Planets, Moon, and Stars

-

Dusk was beginning to settle in Ebonvale when Malakar, the sorcerer, decided to conjure a portal to take them back in time to Pisa, Italy in the year 1609 to meet his old friend, Galileo Galilei, so that he could help teach his baby daughter, Aurora, about the wonders of the solar system.

When they emerged from the portal, they found themselves in Galileo's observatory which was surrounded by star charts, models of plants, telescopes, papers and chalkboards filled with mathematical equations, and beautifully framed paintings he made. Galileo, noticing the presence in his observatory, looked up from his work and greeted the sorcerer warmly.

"Well, well, well, as I live and breathe," gasped Galileo, extending his hand out to shake, "Malakar! È passato un bel po' di tempo (It’s been quite some time)!"

"Allo stesso modo, amico mio (Likewise, my friend)!" replied Malakar, shaking his hand.

Galileo's eyes fell upon the baby cradled safely in Malakar's arms, "And who is this charming young lady with you?"

“This is my daughter, Aurora,” Malakar introduced, holding Aurora up for Galileo to have a better look. “I brought her with me so you could assist me in teaching her the solar system.”

"But, of course!" said Galileo with a twinkle in his eyes, "come my friends and I will teach you all about the cosmos!"

The astronomer, painter, and mathematician gently tugged a rope which revealed a large model of the solar system to hover the ceiling gently. Each of the planets was finely crafted and painted to perfection with the shining sun in the middle.

Aurora’s dark olive green eyes widened with curiosity as she gazed at the model.

"Osserva attentamente, piccolo (Watch closely, little one)," said Galileo, pointing to the shining yellow sphere in the middle, "the sphere in the middle shining brightly is the Sun. It’s the center of our solar system and provides light and warmth to all the planets."

Aurora cooed in wonder at the shining yellow sphere. Next, Galileo pointed to a smaller, grey-looking planet right next to the sun, "Next comes Mercury. It is closest to the sun and it’s very hot. There is no atmosphere to protect it."

Galileo moved onto the next planet, "This is Venus. It is similar in size to Earth, but, is covered in thick clouds of gas. It’s incredibly hot and inhospitable."

Aurora cooed in delight. Then, Galileo moved on to a vibrant blue and green sphere. "Over here is our very own planet Earth. It is the only planet we know that has life."

He indicated a red planet. “This is Mars. It’s known for its red colour, hence why it's called Il Pianeta Rosso Tthe Red Planet."

As Galileo continued, he pointed to a massive striped planet with a big red spot on its side. “This is Jupiter, the largest planet in our solar system. It has a big storm called la Grande Macchia Rossa, the Great Red Spot.”

Aurora’s gaze shifted to the next planet, adorned with stunning, shimmering rings. “And this is Saturn, famous for its beautiful rings. They’re made of ice and rock. Makes you want to go ice skating on it don't you think?”

Aurora giggled.

Galileo then pointed to a distant, pale blue planet. “This is Uranus. It’s unique because it rotates on its side rather than vertically, making its rings look quite different from Saturn’s.”

Finally, Galileo showed Aurora a deep blue planet far from the Sun. “And this is Neptune, the farthest planet from the Sun. It’s known for its strong winds and deep blue color. Is extremely chilly over there. As you can see, all of the planets together make up the neighborhood of the cosmos, and who knows? Maybe one day a new planet will join us.”

Malakar smiled at her fascination with the cosmos, "Thank you Galileo. You have given Aurora a wonderful introduction to the solar system."

"It was my pleasure, my friend," replied Galileo, "now, I have a gift for the little one. I'm quite proud of this contraption."

He handed Malakar a hanging model of the solar system. Unlike a regular mobile, this one was hanging horizontally with a wooden spool that was supported by twine. Each piece of twine that was tied onto the spool had each of the eight planets made of felt and in the middle was the sun.

"It can go on the wall or even on the door of her bedroom," said Galileo.

"Grazie (Thank you) old friend," said Malakar, "It will make a lovely addition to her bedroom."

Soon, they said their goodbyes and headed through the portal back to Ebonvale. The second they got home, Malakar hung the felt planets up on the inside of the door of her room.

Aurora squealed in delight at the sight of the planets on her bedroom door and at bedtime that same evening, Aurora couldn't wait to dream of planets, the moon, and stars.

[yellowmagicalgirl]

📽

So, while I like Hisirdoux, mindcontrolled!Mordred!Douxie lives rent free in my brain so here's something set to Linkin Park's "What I've Done". I'm going to put this under a cut because it's kind of long and also Mordred's suicidal.

Send me a 📽 and I’ll tell you about an animatic I’ll never make

In this farewell There's no blood, there's no alibi 'Cause I've drawn regret From the truth of a thousand lies

Douxie sits at a table with Toby, Zoe, Steve, and Krel; who all look at each other nervously because on one hand, Douxie is their friend. On the other hand, Mordred is a powerful wizard whose name is synonymous to traitor... and he's also Douxie. Douxie sighs and begins to speak, asking them to hear him out and remember that he genuinely cares about them, even if his care won't save them.

So let mercy come and wash away

Douxie's image shifts to something a few years younger, with his clothing shifting to that of a 6th century British prince as opposed to a 21st century emo kid.

What I've done I'll face myself To cross out what I've become Erase myself And let go of what I've done

Put to rest What you thought of me

He's shown finding out about two of his parents' deaths as well as the prophecy that he's supposed to be the one who kills King Arthur. Mordred decides to try and push away his father, just so that Arthur won't die by Mordred's hand. He's also shown working with Merlin and Morgana, only for Morgana to betray Merlin. Mordred helps Merlin make the amulet.

While I clean this slate With the hands of uncertainty So let mercy come and wash away

What I've done

Unable to push his father away the way Mordred wants to, he resorts to drastic measures to take himself out of the equation. Arthur walks in on Mordred just in time and stops him. Mordred tearfully reveals his plan and Arthur reassures Mordred that he loves him, no matter what any prophecy may say. Behind Mordred's back, Arthur casts a protective spell on his son. The animatic would be done in shades of blue and grey, but Arthur's protective spell would be a very pale yellow color.

I'll face myself To cross out what I've become Erase myself And let go of what I've done

The scene shifts to Camlann, with a mind controlled* Mordred fighting his father. Arthur barely fights back against Mordred, who grins wickedly as he stabs Arthur through the chest before pulling out the blade.

* When Mordred is mind controlled he and his magic would be the color of his controller: green for Merlin, dark gold for Morgana, or red for the Arcane Order.

For what I've done I start again And whatever pain may come Today this ends I'm forgiving

Mordred breaks through the mind control and attempts to save his badly bleeding father, only for him to die in Mordred's arms. Overwhelmed by grief and guilt, he attempts to stab himself (either using his own sword or Excalibur) only for Arthur's protective spell to kick in and send him to the 21st century.

What I've done I'll face myself To cross out what I've become

The scene once more shifts back to the first scene, except now Douxie is sobbing and everyone else is trying to comfort him.

Erase myself And let go of what I've done

Douxie and the others face against said mind controlling villain once more, and they attempt to control Douxie once more.

What I've done (Na-na, na, na) (Na-na, na, na)

Douxie is forced to fight against his friends. There are flashes of Arthur's life and death interspersed with the fight scene.

Forgiving what I've done (Na-na, na, na) (Na-na, na, na) (Na-na, na, na) (Na-na, na)

Douxie breaks through the mind control (all without doing anything more than giving his friends a few minor cuts), and the five of them face the mind-controlling villain together. The villain teleports away and everyone hugs Douxie as he starts crying. He drops his sword to the ground and it turns to smoke that artistically looks like a family portrait of Mordred, Arthur, Lancelot, and Guinevere. The smoke then blows away.

[loveafterthefact]

Love After the Fact Chapter 66: On the Road Again

Lance makes a confession and tells Keith a story.

First  Previous  Next

Lance’s eyes scan the rocky foothills’ landscape. In the past few vargas, they’ve passed kilns, tanneries, quarries, gardens, orchards, and vineyards tumbling over the uneven terrain beneath the terraced mountain civilization. Now, he and Keith find themselves at the edge of the foothills, where the last of the mountainous landscape fades into rocky tundra. This is a more arid part of Daibazaal, though parts of it are temperate, or even tropical. And then there’s the vast grassy marsh at the equator, which filters all the water south until the continent slips into the sea.

Lance has since learned that the large body of water he’d seen from space is in fact salt water, and it’s so large that crossing it takes an entire quintant.

He won’t see the sea on this visit, but he’s already promised himself he’ll come back. The tundra, however, is spellbinding. On either side of the road are flowers in shades of yellow, pink, blue, orange, and white with thick, waxy, bluish-green leaves. Among the flowering hills with twisty-trunked trees, are small mounds, topped with little towers of stacked stones. Some have toppled over. Others have small nests in the gaps. Others are held in place with vines and foliage.

Cairns, marking ancient burials, Keith told him a ways back.

Ahead is a river, one so wide, so deep, and so fast that they need a bridge to cross it. Lance can already hear the water, and given how one of Keith’s ears is rotating in every direction, and the other is fixed on the rushing water, so can he. Every now and then, the ears switch duties, keeping an eye out for the many predators that call Daibazaal home.

It's the cutest thing Lance has ever seen.

Keith halts his bull elk by the river, leads him forward to drink. Lance follows his lead. Rubbing Bruna’s furry neck as she drinks at the river’s edge. They’ve been riding all morning, and it’s time for a rest, and some lunch.

Wrapped in leaves, Lance finds some bread, dried meat, and a soft, somewhat amorphous white substance. He sniffs the substance, finding it has a bit of a stink to it. It also smells… good? Somehow?

“Beloved?”

“Hm?”

“What the quiznak is this?”

“Oh. Cheese.”

“Cheese? What’s in it?”

“Milk. From the elk.” Keith pulls out his blade, slicing a bit off the lump, spreading it on the bread. “Try some. If your body produces lactase. Otherwise, do not.”

“I do. Some plants on Altea have lactose. Milk does, too?” At Keith’s nod, Lance shrugs, taking a bite of the offered food. It’s good. Salty, a bit gamey, a little nutty? No matter how Lance thinks to describe it, cheese sounds absolutely disgusting, but it’s delicious.

Keith hands him a wrinkled red fruit that looks past its prime. “Here, try this purp fruit. I know it looks gross, and I think they’re disgusting, but Lotor likes them a lot, so you probably will too.”

Lance takes a bite, humming as sweet, syrupy juices explode over his tongue. It’s delightful, probably the sweetest thing he’s tasted since arriving on Daibazaal. The taste sours almost instantly as Lance remembers something he’d said earlier. “Hey, Keith? There’s something I have to tell you.”

“Okay?”

“I may have made a deal with my father that we would return to Altea as mates.”

“You what?” Keith stares at his spouse, clearly displeased. His ear pin back against his head, tail twitching back and forth. “That wasn’t your place to say. At all.”

“I know. I thought it was fine, since it’s not like he’d actually do anything if we didn’t, but I also didn’t say anything, so… I got the feeling I was in the wrong.”

Keith stares at him, fur bristled, murmurs, “Did you mean it?”

“No! I-” The Altean’s shoulder sag. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so,” Keith echoes. “So you assumed that we would, and figured that meant it was fine for you to agree to those terms.”

“...I suppose,” Lance mumbles.

Keith shakes his head, disappointed in his spouse. Not that he’d say that. Nothing damages a person like hearing their loved one is disappointed in them. “Why, Lance? Why would you agree to that? You’ve kept me safe all this time. What changed?”

“He made it a stipulation of our trip to Daibazaal. I should have argued the point, but I just wanted to get you here as fast as possible. I wanted to make sure that happened, with as little trouble or wasted energy as possible, and as little stress to you. Still, I was careless, and thoughtless, and I am so. Sorry, Keith.”

The Galra sighs, staring at his mate. “Well, you told me, and I know you wouldn’t have forced yourself on me, so I’ll forgive you. This time. But even though I’m mated to you, you can still lose my respect, and my trust. Just like I can lose yours.”

“I know, I know.” Lance’s ears droop. “The idea that I could have damaged this…” He shakes his head.

“It’s nothing that can’t be fixed,” Keith murmurs, letting the hurt ease away as he gazes over the river, watching the wind move through the tundra flora. “You’re reasoning saved your ass though, just so you know.”

Lance chuckles, still subdued as he picks at the last of his food. “I really am sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m upset, but we’re gonna be okay.” Keith takes Lance’s hand, squeezes it tight. “You haven’t ruined this. Your intentions were good, if a bit careless, and we’re going to be fine.”

“Okay…”

“You need to be careful, though. It’s not like you to make hasty promises like that. We can't rule like that, so it can't become a habit.”

“I know,” Lance groans, carding a hand through his white hair. “The Ancients are going to smite me if I can’t get my shit together!”

Keith licks his lips, anxious. He still trusts Lance, and his intentions, no matter how misguided in practice. And the man clearly recognizes that he’s been an idiot. Now, he just wants to move on. “Hey. Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” The Altean rests his head against Keith’s shoulder. Keith wraps his tail around Lance’s waist.

“What happened to Romelle?”

“Ah. It’s kind of a long story...”

Alfor leaned against the control board of their small craft, shaking. On either side of him, Romelle and Honerva stood in awe as they gazed at the sight before them. A white hole, light pouring in seemingly endless arcs of light.

“I can’t believe it,” the blonde girl breathed. “We’re finally here.”

“Everything we’re searching for, everything we could ever want, is right here before us,” Alfor murmured. They stared a moment longer, then the king gave a cocky grin he’d later dread seeing on his son. “Let’s go get it!”

The women giggled, giddy on new discovery, as they hurried to their control panels, Alfor at the helm. They were here for everything they could possibly get, and the adventure, but also with a specific goal in mind.

Oriande, among other things, reportedly had its own unique flora and fauna, from which Altea’s organic life had evolved. It was possible, perhaps even probable, that they could find a cure for the thing that killed his wife.

“Wait. What exactly happened to your mother ?”

"A fungus. They found a capsule in her reading room. It... It grew up underneath her scales, and made them die and fall off."

"That's... horrific. I can't believe anyone would do that!"

“Mnh.” Lance sighs. “They cut me out of her as soon as they could so I wouldn’t die with her. They put me in a pod for phoebs, until I could breathe on my own and they were sure I didn’t have the same thing.”

“What an awful way to die,” Keith whispers, thinking about watching his power and lifeforce fall away from his body before his very eyes.

“Romelle’s brother died later from the same thing. We still don’t even know where it came from. We couldn’t figure out how to kill it. It kept spreading even when they were put in suspension.”

“Does Romelle know?”

“I’m not sure. We told her, but…”

“I don’t understand!” Romelle clinged to her research console, staring at the apparition formed from the light of the white hole. “Why won’t it let us pass?!”

Alfor glared at the ghostly obstacle, pale blue scales flaring in time with his frustration. “Try again. If it doesn’t let us pass, we’ll pull back and think of a new strategy.”

“Yes, your Majesty.” Honerva did as she was told, wheeling their craft back around, soaring through space, dodging the arcs of light curling from the white hole. The apparition struck again, sending them spiraling into another arc of light. The entire ship shuddered and creaked, threatening to come apart as it was assaulted by pure energy.

Alfor fell to the floor, wrapped his arms around the leg of the console. He heard a crash from behind him and assumed they’d taken some kind of damage. Once the ship settled, however, it became clear that wasn’t the case.

Romelle was on the floor, Honerva leaning over her, dark hair falling from it’s usual bun. “Alfor…”

The girl was bleeding profusely, gray matter visible from a gaping wound in her head.

“Ancients… Pick her up. We have to put her in a pod.”

“Alfor that could kill her!”

“What about her exposed brain? Couldn’t that kill her?”

Honerva grew pale beneath her orange, green-tinted scales. She nodded, scooping the girl into her arms as Alfor rushed to calibrate a pod to preserve her life.

As Honerva prepared to take them home, Alfor turned back to the formidable white hole. He’d been so close. He could practically smell that familiar, unfamiliar atmosphere just beyond these outer limits.

Were it not for the beast that guarded it...

“So what happened to Romelle?”

“My father spent decaphoebs rebuilding her brain. At first, everything seemed fine. That’s when she and Allura got close, and fell in love. But not long after that… She started talking about odd things. Guardians and descendants and glass that is water but also holding water and a blue ember growing cold. Weird stuff. Eventually, that took up more and more of her. I think that’s all that’s left now.

She doesn’t recognize Allura. I don’t think she even knows Allura’s pregnant. I’m not sure she even knows who she is, or that she’s a person. Alfor says that trying to fix her is just doing more damage and causing her pain. As much as I hate it, I think he’s right.”

“I wonder what she means,” he whispers. “I wonder what she’s trying to tell us.”

“I don’t know,” Lance murmurs. “But whatever it is, she’s too far gone to understand it herself, let alone tell us.”

“Right…” Keith frowns, unsure what to make of the story, but he lets it go for now. He’s heard Romelle speak plenty of times before he moved to Altea, Allura having gone out of her way to visit with him and try to ease his anxiety. It always sounded like nonsense.

All the same, he has a nauseous feeling that Romelle’s ramblings aren’t ramblings at all.

Keith stares at Lance’s scales, glittering up and down his arms, exposed by his rolled up sleeves. Blue, shining red in the light. Water and fire.

Suspend the ember in water. Stall its final breath.

The guardian waits for the descendant.

[hospital-wh0re]

greek mythology aesthetics

aes: persephone

dark mornings when nobody else is awake, biting his lip till he bleeds, flower-shaped bruises and bullet-shaped hickeys. lust, sharp, black winged eyeliner framing bright, angry eyes where the stark blue shades seem to twist and tumble around in the light, perfectly applied crimson lipstick and cheekbones that could slice your skin open. wedding dresses covered in bloodstains and dirt, crumpled old polaroids of tanned teens decked in flower crowns, furious, screaming arguments that split open the floor, earthquakes and finding the best in natural disaster, roses growing out of slit wrists and tragedy.

aes: hades

brooding in the dark for days on end, sudden bursts of fury where you throw things on the floor and smash them, misunderstood teens, wanting to be liked and sarcasm. swelling orchestral, dramatic rock music, black bedclothes tinged with deep purple and green and blue, cracked windows and alcohol-induced shaking hands, crows that circle your roof and black eyes glinting with silver slits. snakes and finding comfort in the dark, burnt wings and tousled dirty hair, old books with well-thumbed pages, lust and aggressive kissing. stroking her soft hands while you sit together, sharing a charred wooden throne and subtle touches of the arm throughout the day.

aes: icarus

sitting across from the window to feel the sun's warmth filtering through the glass, bright, whiskey-coloured eyes, optimism and books about angels, dark nights spent reading the same books over and over and flickering candles. tiny wooden carved figures, circular gold-rimmed hipster glasses, freckles on light brown skin and not trusting people’s advice. getting grounded and stuck inside all day, the smell of burning skin, old poems copied onto your hands in scribbled biro, obsessions with fire and charcoal drawings of the weather almost every day. fingernails gummed up with wax from making candles and origami wings made of construction paper, engineering equations in flaky chalk on a blackboard and hot summer days when the whole room glows yellow.

aes: achilles and patroclus

subtly nudging his arm when something reminds you of an inside joke, nursing each other back to health after battle injuries, smoothly carved gold-tipped arrows and perfectly structured bows, tracing shapes on his skin and hiding together in the dark. kaleidoscopic, mosaic-like eyes, colours merging and moving together, bronze coins, flakes of white from the temple brickwork caught on your clothes, “name one hero who was happy...i can’t...i aim to be the first”, and noticing the rust-like dried blood and raised scars littering his shoulders as you hold him. limping, learning morse code, sarcastic affection, laughing whilst struggling out of armour, fine glitter under your eyes and untangling thin golden wreaths from his hair.

aes: orpheus and eurydice

contrasts in personality, shy versus outgoing, evenings spent listening to old records, graph paper covered in scribbled lyrics and notes littered over the floor, perfect white weddings, light sunset-coloured glitter dusting her cheekbones, sudden scenery changes and habitually never looking where you’re going. groups of people you know you can’t trust, intense jealousy, racing and weaving in between trees, snake bites and tiny pinprick cuts that hurt more than you’d expect, personal ballads and laments that make even strangers cry and dark tunnels. soft pastel-themed bouquets stained with dirt, the crunching noise of someone falling to the floor, “don’t go into the light”, not controlling your impulses, cruelly specific rules getting you in trouble, dappled sunlight hitting pale skin and shadows wrapping themselves around you.

aes: helen of troy

mirrors and men everywhere, confidence in your reflection, fresh bedsheets the morning after, cliche running away with giggles and held hands, soft pink lips puckered into a pout, jealousy and betrayal. never truly being on anyone’s side, always winning, love notes scrawled in expensive ink on thick folded parchment, passed discreetly between hands, flimsy, gold, low-cut dresses, holding your finger to your lips to signal silence, not keeping secrets, gossip, knowing looks and always somehow being trusted. being caught swearing as a teen, free and obnoxious laughter, questioning your own morality, blowing things out of proportion and inadvertently causing fights between other people.

aes: medusa

teenage years, acting defensive, thick, wiry dyed hair, dark green dirt school blazers, silver snake rings wrapped around your fingers and staring at nothing. always having cold hands, pale mottled skin, dirty white shirts, being blatantly lied to, frozen puddles in the winter and warped grey, stone statues. cracks in the pavement, irrational fear, being forced into the role of the outcast, jealousy and doling out punishment. hateful glares, dark bruises blooming in green, black and purple, punching the wall and cracking the plaster, lisping the letter s, creepy gothic music with slow, groaning bass and soft drums, mumbling to yourself in a low voice and still, grey eyes. boasting and being told you’re wrong, curses, avoiding mirrors, ironic punishment and knowing the difference between confidence and arrogance.

aes: zeus

angry storms, standing outside and basking in the rain, checking over your shoulder for threats to laugh at, asserting your authority, splitting your knuckles punching the wall, cracking windows in fury and shards of glass littering the floor. taking joy in ironic punishments, gold rivers and dark blue robes, glinting silver, warzones and strong drinks, army officers jacket covered in medals and stained in other people’s blood, bright neon signs and sailing trips where you fight against the sea not to be capsized. vengeance and perfect aim throwing tridents, fluency in foreign languages, control and fatherhood. aggressive love-making, angry wives, towering mountains capped with snow, cigarette smoke surrounding your head and thick, long grey hair.

aes: medea

vengeance, bloody knuckles, running away, planning and plotting, love at first sight, being usually nice but ruthless after betrayal, guilt and hiding. cliche eyes that glint mischievously when the sunlight hits them, soft lips being aggressively kissed, riches to rags instead of rags to riches, deep royal blue, purple and red dresses dirtied and burned, that internal punch in the gut you feel when you get replaced and “teaching someone a lesson”. prophecies and steaming potions, knowing the exact ingredients of a recipe by heart, hip flasks filled with strong drinks hidden under the layers of your dresses and causing quick diversions. soft, dark hair with natural highlights in loose ringlets, hoop earrings and dusty pink eyeshadow, gentle, natural-looking lipstick and sharp, murderous warning glares when someone dares to wrong you.

aes: pandora

never doing what you’re told, “curiosity killed the cat”, boxes filled with coloured smoke, causing problems but having small solutions and never giving up hope. colossal mistakes, innocence, perfection, looking ethereal and pure, roses in vases filled with alcohol, blue glitter adorning the parting in your hair, butterflies, gifts and growing purple flowers in the cracks of the pavement. dainty fingernails painted baby pink, s,weet fruit going out of date too fast, angry angels, guilt, a string of green fairy lights going out and only managing to fix one bulb, jars of honey surrounded by bugs, screaming “I’m sorry” and perfect droplets of dark blood staining pale, smooth skin. marble statues smashing and uselessly trying to stick the pieces back together, shiny blades, soft hair that’s so blonde it’s almost white and naïvety.

[thehalfbakedlogician]

{for the Sicuterra server speculative evolution project}

SPECIES NAME- volantiaculum musicoranae {dart-flying music frog}

COMMON NAME- Flutterfrog

ANCESTOR- Dumpy Tree Frog, related to the graspers

BIO-

Diet- The flutterfrog feeds exclusively on flying insects during the night, and as this frog feeds by directly grabbing food with it's mouth it hunts more like a bat, catching prey by parachuting as it cannot yet properly fly. In order to parachute, they have large wing-like forearms and webbed back feet.

Reproduction- Male flutterfrogs are intensely social creatures, living in small groups together while the females are more solitary. They vocalize often, making soft hoos and gentle beeps and chirps. She may mate with many males from different groups. To attract females, the males chorus every evening, having no set breeding season. Their tympanums are quite large and females are able to hear males from very far away via their loud throat sacs. {females also typically have white speckles on their back and a pale white throat.} Color morphs include yellow, orange, emerald green, blue-green, gray-green, and grayish brown. After attracting her, the males will rapidly hop about from lily pad to lily pad, fluttering his wings as he does so. She will then mate with those who could leap furthest and fastest, and leave. She retains the eggs within her and they hatch into tiny, extremely precocial offspring, which can fly soon after being born.

Adaptations- flutterfrogs have a very long life span as compared to other frogs, and can get up to twenty years old. These are docile and gentle creatures, as they do not at this point have any natural predators. Their waxy skin helps them to not dry out as they never enter the waters below, instead taking advantage of the regular rains and ambient moisture in their humid environment. Females are also much larger than the males, although both are smaller than their ancestors, so as not to tip over the lilies on which they live. Adhesive toe pads allow the flutterfrog to grip the plants if they swing wildly when jumped upon.

DATE EVOLVED- 10 myf RANGE- Flutterfrogs dwell in the humid marshes wherever forests of canopy lilies can be found, close to the equator of the major continent but not within the rainforests themselves.

[leroiloup]

Colors

⚜ In which Klaus broods and reminisces. [ Character study stuff ]      ➥ Takes place in TO: S2      ✥ Trigger Warnings: None

                             Flesh stained with color, the cracks and creases of knuckles and fingernails caked with the surfeit of hues. It wasn’t that the owner of those sullied hands cared. On the contrary, he reveled in the feel of getting his hands dirty, of being in absolute control over his movements and the intentions with which he worked. Niklaus Mikaelson was in a mood. Though to be fair, he’d been in a mood for months now.

                            At first glance, the studio that he worked in would have looked completely disheveled, like it was the sight of some great battle. Upon closer inspection, though, one might see the method in the madness. The brushes were arranged together and within his reach. Canvases littered about, but all out of his way for the time being. Paints were strewn about haphazardly, but Klaus knew exactly where each color was. The balcony doors were open, letting in a humid breeze, the heat not bothering the immortal hybrid in the least. The only sounds of the room were his furious brush strokes and the signs of life wafting up from the quarter. The record that had been playing had long since finished and he never bothered to flip the album side.

                            The truth of it was, there was far too much noise inside Klaus’s mind as it was. That’s where the true battle was being waged. Loud crashes— yelling— shouting— crying— all tangled together in the memories that replayed for him and fueled his art.

                            Yellow— the color most often associated with happiness. His happiness was yanked from his hands the moment she was born. Hope was in trusted care, but her place was with her parents, her father. She had been swaddled in a blanket of pale yellow the night that he handed her over to his dear sister, Rebekah. It was like some sick poetry of a pictorial metaphor, him handing away his happiness. The first time in his miserable one thousand years of existence, he truly found happiness in that little girl’s eyes —and then all at once— that emotion was gone, leaving behind a hole in his soul.

                            Blue— the color of peace. Such a notion seemed a foreign concept most of the time to Klaus. Peace meant stillness, and stillness meant complacency which then led to boredom. He was always moving, always scheming, always working on something. That’s how his mind worked. He did better when set to a task. In his heart of hearts, though, Klaus yearned for peace. He craved it every bit as much as he feared it. With peace came walls that would be brought down which meant making one an easier target. He briefly equated the color blue with Caroline’s eyes. Those brought him peace, even when narrowed with fury at him. But to true to his nature, he ran from that, not allowing himself the weakness of love. Pushing her away was easier.

                            Now, blue was the sky that blankets New Orleans, covering the city and all its inhabitants. The city that he loved, the city that he built. Peace was all he wanted to bring to its limits, and yet everyone fought him on that. He didn’t understand why, but he knew that he couldn’t back down from his goal.

                            His brush mingled with the yellow on the canvas, mixing to create a green. Fascinating, he idly thought. Peace mixed with happiness creates jealousy. It was the only reason he could see that people fought him so ardently. They wanted what he had, what he envisioned, what he worked to lay claim to. That simply wouldn’t do. He won’t allow it. He had to be strong to fight for his city and his family, even if it’s his own family that moves against him. He knew what was best for them and he planned to show them.

                            Red— Oh, how often in his life Klaus had seen his hands stained with red. He could still recall a time when it frightened him. His own power and strength downright scared him, proving to him that not only are monsters very real, but he was one of them. Now it resonated in him as a sign of prowress. It was the color of rage, the color of war, but also the color of fire— of life burning eternal. He was not only a master of war, he’d perfected it. His rage was his greatest weapon, often leaving his enemies quaking before he even had to lift a finger. That, he knew, was true power. That’s what kept his family safe. That’s what kept the peace in the factions whole.

                            Perhaps he’ll never know true happiness nor peace, because it’s his burden to be the driving force that creates those for others. Whether those around him understood it or not, he was more than willing to step up and take on that role. After all, while a hero can be worth many things, Klaus Mikaelson knew that there was nothing better to unify people than a shared villain.

[mysticsparklewings]

Arteza Woodless Watercolor Pencil Test

Well, I was doing pretty good there and then disappeared for a week.  (P.S. I hate school) Anyway; my triumphant-ish return comes with, to the surprise of no one, a supply test that I finished a couple days ago and just didn’t post for reasons.   I got these pencils for my birthday, after having decided I even wanted them by having seen both woodless and watercolor pencils before and turning them down for various reasons. These satisfied both oddities in one set, so when it came time to put together a wishlist, I very quickly called to mind the video I had seen these in. Aside from life obligations, the other reason it took me a little while to test these pencils was that I had to think about the best way to do so. How do you test watercolor pencils when you don’t usually work with watercolors at all, and you still want to see how they work as Just Pencils? Obviously, I ultimately decided there needed to be two test drawings; one "dry," just using the pencils as I would any others, and one "wet," using water to see what I could get them to do. I thought about doing my regular galaxy job, but not knowing what exactly the water would do made me decide against it. Instead, I scrolled through Pinterest until I stumbled upon this picture of someone holding up a flower stem to the moon. That really inspired me, so I ran with the concept. As pencils, the first thing I noticed (aside from the packaging, but I’ll address that later) was how heavy these are. I’ve heard people talk about the Faber Castell Polychromos being heavier than Prismacolor pencils, but I didn’t really notice that much, and even holding one of each I really have to think about it to notice a difference between the two. These, however, I noticed immediately after opening them, without any other pencils at hand to compare them to. Which I attribute them essentially being pencil cores with no wood casing. Speaking of which... Now, I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve seen quite a few instances of people using various brands of woodless colored pencils (particularly Koh-i-Noor) and always walking away with at least one broken before all is said and done. Likewise, I was very nervous about these doing the same, so at first, I was skittish about putting too much pressure behind them and I still baby them when I’m moving them around since they really do appear to be just varnished watercolor pigment sticks and have no casing to protect them. But in this regard I think the extra weight ends up being helpful; it ends up accounting for that little bit I’m always holding back in terms of pressure. I did figure out that these appear to be a bit stronger than the other brands that I had seen other artists unwittingly break, so I was able to relax a little, but not by much. The other thing here is that [I am not an art scientist, but] I think because they’re watercolor pigments when you layer them they appear to darken without as much extra pressure as normal pencils. It’s hard to explain, but I guess it’s like they layer onto themselves better or something? So my precaution wasn’t as much of a hindrance as I thought it might be. Which I might as well mention here that they feel really smooth when they go down. Not soft like Prismacolors, but they do feel like they just glide around on the paper in a good way. This can feel a little odd when you’re trying to get darker pigment payoff, but not in a way that makes it impossible to work with. It's also odd because it makes them feel about as hard/firm as oil-based pencils like the Polychromos, though they otherwise behave more like wax-based pencils for the most part. I did notice a couple of the colors felt a little...dry? at first. Chalky isn’t the right word, but it’s the only one that comes to mind. But that seemed to go away after I took water to them and they were left to dry again. I think it might’ve had something to do with just the nature of them being solid watercolors in the same vein as some watercolors drying and cracking after being left untouched for months or years at a time. [Again, I'm not an art scientist, this is just speculation.] Oddly enough, they kind of reminded me of the Crayola Signature pencils I just tested in that the first couple of layers looked kind of patchy/scratchy, and you can still see that a little in the pink of the background and the moon, since they were only a few layers with lighter colors, but after that and with the darker colors, in particular, they smoothed right out. Though part of this also comes from that smooth feeling I was talking about; it makes it difficult to tell by "feeling" what the pencils are actually doing if that makes any sense. With regular pencils, usually, you can gauge what they're going to do by the resistance/texture of the paper. These just don't do that the same way. But this is one of those things that the more you use the pencils you can get used to it and work with it better. This made the moon on the “dry” picture more of a challenge, and I steered away from using the black because I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to get it to blend out fully. Also, the white was better than I expected as just a colored pencil, but it just can’t touch Prismacolor in terms of pigmentation and it didn’t blend as happily as the Polychromos one, so I had to try and supplement with my white gel pen to get certain parts of the moon as bright as I wanted. Which, I will say, for whatever reason my gel pen really did not like these pencils, as just pencils or as dried watercolor. I spent a lot of time tapping and scribbling between long strokes to quite literally get the ball rolling again. As just colored pencils, they worked okay, but with 24 pencils at $13-$17 on Amazon (the highest and lowest prices I’ve seen for them), unfortunately I have to say if you want just colored pencils, I’d still have to insist on Prismacolor, as they’re 24 for $14-$18 on Amazon and just do the job better. They're not terrible; I think I'd recommend these over those Crayola Signature pencils, they just leave a little to be desired when you know there's something better out there. However, once I added water to the equation, that story changes a bit. I’m not experienced with watercolor at all, as I already mentioned, (or most kinds of paint for that matter) so this was probably more of a challenge for me than it would be for someone who knows the medium better. I did at least use watercolor paper this time though, after learning my lesson last time, so that was one less thing to worry about. (Which is why the "wet" one is so much brighter; the watercolor paper is white instead of tan, so it doesn't naturally mute the colors.) I started by just putting down a few layers of pencil as normal, but not too many, then washed over it with water. I suppose I could’ve stopped there, but the shading on the stem went muddy and I noticed that the water really lent itself to the texture of the moon (and made what little gray I had put down almost disappear). And despite my best efforts, the sky was pretty patchy after the first pass. And so began the battle of applying water, applying color, light and then dark and then light again. The stem gave me the biggest fit as it was really difficult to apply dark or light color and blend it out without the color spreading too far and overtaking to the point of just looking like green mud. This I suspect mostly has to do with how small of an area I was working with. (To be fair, in general, I think with paint bigger areas are easier to work overall.) And for some reason, the light green brings up a considerable amount of yellow when it’s hit with water, which I hadn’t anticipated. The sky was less trouble than I thought it would be, though I did toy with the area around the moon trying to both keep the glow but darken up the sky. Ultimately I stopped messing with it and decided I’d just live with the sky being a bit pale and the glow a bit uneven. On the other hand, I was much happier using the pink as a watercolor. Picking the pigment up directly from the pencil gave me a much better color payoff, enough that I actually did a wash of water to pale it back out a bit. Also, I think the watercolor sky looks a bit more realistic because of the texture, though the color pencil texture makes the stars look better on the other one. Naturally, the pencil that suffered the most from my efforts was white. It too worked better as a watercolor than as a pencil, but because I kept painting it on and then neutralizing it, I had to overextend how much I was loading on the brush. So it has become noticeably shorter than the other pencils. (This is also how I learned that the shiny varnish on the pencils apparently doesn’t dissolve in water, or at least not very easily, and seems to have to be sharpened off, as it was a noticeable edge developing as I picked up pigment from the pencil tip). Which, I did sharpen a couple of pencils. No major issues, though I did notice you have to grip them more attentively because they don’t have the wood grain for the sharpener to grasp to help hold it steady. Also, since the shavings are just bits of pigment, I am saving them and planning to figure out something to do with them so it doesn’t go to waste. I do like the watercolor moon much better though. I ended up taking a bit of black, light blue, and purple to it since the gray in the set was looking a bit warm, and luckily the water dissolved them pretty straight away, so they blended in to cool the color down and darken it up a bit without overpowering everything. Of the two moons, likewise, the watercolor one is my favorite. Other than that, as I already mentioned my gel pen did not like going over even the dried watercolor. It kind of makes sense since I’ve tried it over acrylic before and it aggressively didn’t like that either. I guess gel pens just don’t like paint?  (They don't tend to like wax-based pencils that much, but they liked the paint even less.) I definitely need more practice, but their performance with water is what convinced me these were a good investment. I’m not sure how often I’ll get to use them going forward, considering how much I like working on my gray and tan papers that aren’t watercolor friendly, but I will definitely have them on my mind just in case. Mixed media projects, anyone? Also, after using these I can’t say I understand why you would ever go for watercolor pencils with wood; it seems like it would just get in the way and slow you down. Though it does make me curious about the Derwent Inktense pencils, as they’re water-soluble and aren’t supposed to re-activate after they dry...or the Inktense blocks... No, bad Mystic, you don’t need any more pencils! Or art supplies, for that matter! There’s only one glaring issue with the Arteza pencils though that I can’t overlook though; The packaging. I try not to worry too much about the packaging on pencils. If it holds them nice and sorted just fine, then I usually write off my complaints as personal. But this is a special case. (Pun intended). The pencils come in a clear plastic blister pack, arranged in two clear plastic trays. Keyword: BLISTER. There is no neat way to cut into the thing, leaving a nasty jagged edge capable of scratching unless you sand it down, and there’s also no way to fully close it back up, so you either cut it all the way open and it’s severed forever, or you do like I did and try to only open it enough to get the pencils out, which makes getting them in and out an absolute chore. Fortunately, I had enough space in the zipper case I keep my 150 set of Prismacolors in (since I didn’t care for that packaging either) to put them in after realizing just how annoying that blister pack was, but not everyone is going to have a solution like that at the ready. It’s also kind of a shame because I actually liked the plastic trays, but it seems risky to keep them in those without a box to put the trays in. (I do have them in the back of my mind in case I come across a reasonable solution to that problem). My issue isn’t that the packaging is cheap, my issue is that it isn’t easily reusable and just feels kind of obnoxious to use, even though it does look really good as an unopened display. (But you have to open it to use the pencils, so...) This made it kind of obvious that even though on Amazon their price is comparable to Prismacolor, more of the money from Arteza went into the pencils themselves and not the packaging since the 24 set of Prismacolors comes in a nice tin that was probably more costly to manufacture. Again though, my issue isn’t that the packaging itself is cheap. Honestly, I wouldn’t have given it much of a second thought if they came in a paper/cardboard box like a ton of cheap colored pencils (classic Crayola, Rose Art, etc.) do. To be fair, I can understand if they didn’t do that because they are watercolor and were concerned about people using them with water and inadvertently getting the box wet and messing it up, but still (Crayola came out with a set of watercolor pencils and didn't worry about that, for example). Or they could’ve designed the plastic more like the way Tombow Dual Brush Pens come packaged in the 10 marker sets: it looks like a blister pack, but it has little nods at the top like a clasp, so it’s relatively easy to open and close and reuse. It is a little fiddly sometimes and the markers do jostle a bit when you open it because they aren’t fit super snuggly inside, but I’d still much prefer that to the blister pack. Heck, even the Prismacolor Scholar pencils, which are supposed to be a more budget-friendly option to the regular Prismacolors, come in a plastic pack that can double as a stand, and they're $17 on Amazon right now. And yet I have to concede that I would rather have good pencils with sucky packaging than sucky pencils with good packaging because there is always the option of just buying a better case. So while I do abhor the packaging, I will say it doesn’t mean the pencils aren’t worth buying. It just means I think you should already have another storage system in mind or ready for them before you do so. I mean, if you don’t care about keeping them sorted and would just as soon throw them all in a regular pencil zip bag, then this is very much a moot point. I’m talking to those of you like me that prefer to have them sorted so you don’t have to spend minutes pawing through them to find the one you’re looking for. My final verdict? If you’re looking for watercolor pencils, I say give them a try. I’m definitely curious to work with them more. Just make sure you’re prepared to deal with the packaging situation. Though if you’re looking for just regular pencils, sorry, but you’re better off with Prismacolor as far as I’m concerned. Next up will either be a personal piece doing a bit of experimenting or a commissioned piece; depends on which I have to motivation and time to finish first after doing my school work I may or may not have procrastinated on. Oh, and there’s a certain redesign I plan on making a journal about when I find the time...And I need to catch up on correspondence, as usual ____ Artwork (c) me, MysticSparkleWings Inspiration image found on Pinterest ____ Where to find me & my artwork: My Website | Commission Info + Prices | Ko-Fi | dA Print Shop | RedBubble |   Twitter | Tumblr | Instagram

[c-bani-mation]

Necklaces and Butterflies

Rating: Mature(M)

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Relationships: Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Alya Cesaire/Nino Lahiffe, Tom Dupain/ Sabine Cheng, Gabriel Agreste/Emilie Agreste, Tikki/Plagg

Language: English

Summary: 16 years ago two royal families came together to celebrate the birth of a princess. Things go terribly wrong and they’re forced to do the unthinkable.Through out the years Mari Dupain has questioned why her parents gave her up to servitude. Was it really to have her pay off their debt or was it something more?Nonetheless she dreams of the day she’s able to pack her bags and start a real life of her own as a seamstress, but when her family’s past begins to unfold before her how will this affect her? And how will a certain green eyed, golden haired prince play into this equation?

***WARNING THERE WILL BE VIOLENCE IN LATER CHAPTERS(But I’ll make sure to label the chapters that contain that, it won’t be for a while down the road)***

Note: This chapter is set just about 16 years after the happenings in the prologue(Note:This series contains multiple POVs(Point Of Views), the transition will always be titled.

                              Chapter 1(About 16 years later)

                                                        Mari’s POV

   Mari had no idea why Chloe was suddenly being nice to her, even if they were in public, Chloe would always insult and antagonize her. Mari was used to it by now, for as long as she could remember, she was serving the Bourgeois family. Chloe and her grew up together, much to Chloe’s disliking. So why would she out of the blue act as if they were on friendly terms? Mari huffed as she brought her ‘highness’ her tea.

   “Thank you, Mari. I really appreciate it.” Chloe gave one of her fake nice smiles to top it off. Mari scowled.

   “You’re welcome, Miss Bourgeois.” Mari curtsied to her mistress and turned to walk out of the parlor.

   “And where, may I ask, do you think you’re going?” Chloe questioned right before taking a sip of her tea, not even looking in Mari's direction.

   “I was-”

   “Did I dismiss you Mari?”

   “Ah, no Miss… you did not.”

   “So why did you see it appropriate to leave?”

   “I just thought-”

   “You don’t have the rights to think.”

   “But-” In a blink Mari was on the floor, clutching her beat red, stinging cheek, her long, curly, raven black locks hanging in her face as tears pricked her bluebell eyes.

   “You, servant, do not talk back to your mistress like that. If you think that I was being kind because I pitied you, you’re wrong. The prince is stopping by to have some tea with his closest friend and soon fiancé.” Chloe looked smugly down at Mari.

   “Miss Bourgeois, you already know that Prince Adrien is betrothed to Ladybug.”

   “Of course I know that, but as I’ve already told you I AM Ladybug! Now get back to your work, or else.” Chloe hissed. Mari stood and dusted herself off. Giving a curtsy to Chloe, she saw herself to the door stopping at the door frame.

   “Anything for you, Miss.” Mari spat. Right as she rounded the door frame, she ducked dodging a tea cup thrown at her by Chloe. Crashing, and shattering the tea cup and all of its’ contents onto the floor.

   “Clean that up, you clumsy fool!” Chloe yelled. Mari huffed and went to go get the cleaning supplies from the kitchen. As Mari was emerging from the kitchen with a broom, a mop, and a bucket, a not-so-distant squeal could be heard.

   “ADRIKINS!” Chloe’s screech was so high, Mari had no doubt that the nearby dogs could hear it. She looked up to the stairs to see a familiar blonde boy. Of course Mari recognized him, who wouldn’t recognize the prince? They made their way up stairs with Mari a little distance behind them. Chloe looked over her shoulder and gave her an evil smirk.

   “Please be careful of the horrid mess my clumsy maid caused. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.” She batted her eyelashes and gave him a pout.

   “My apologies, Lady Bourgeois, Your Highness. I will see to that this blemish gets cleaned up right away.” She curtsied to the prince and then got on her knees to begin cleaning.

   “Please be careful with that glass, Miss. Wouldn’t want you to get cut.” Mari’s head shot straight up, just in time to see the prince himself getting on his knees to help her. Just as he was reaching for a piece of glass, Mari gasped and put her hand on his stopping him, something she could very well get imprisoned for.

   “Oh no! Your Highness, please do not take any notice onto me. I am nothing but your humble servant and if you were to get hurt on my watch I couldn’t live with myself. I will take care of it, nothing to worry about, Your Highness.” Mari looked straight into his emerald eyes and smiled. He gave her a kind, cheshire-like grin in return as he rose from his knees. Mari was trying to withhold a sneer from her face, she had always hated nobles with their snooty personalities and the way they would look down upon the common folk and treat them as less than human.

   “Thank you, Miss… uh. Pardon me, but what is your name?”

   “Mari Dupain, Your Highness.” Once again she curtsied before the prince. While her hair covered her face, she frowned and rolled her eyes, but quickly put on a fake sweet smile for the prince.

   “Mari,” He repeated, thoughtfulness flashed through his eyes. “Thank you, Miss Dupain. I wish you well.” He bowed, causing Mari’s face to flush. This exchange,however, did not go unnoticed by Chloe.

   “Adrien!” She snapped. “Quit talking to that lowly scum and pay attention to the important one! ME!” Chloe scowled, while Adrien’s eyes grew wide and he quirked an eyebrow.

   “Lowly scum? Chlo, why would you say that?” Chloe’s face broke out into a cold sweat. She laughed nervously.

   “Did I say that? What I meant to say was...uh...you better start cleaning up that mess, Mari. It would be a shame if it stained and Daddy were to find out.” Mari’s breathed hitched.

   “Of course, Lady Chloe, it would indeed be a shame.” Mari quickly started to put the large pieces of shattered china into her apron. Her brows were furrowed with worry and fear with sweat dripping down the back of her neck.

   “Then don’t doutle. Come on Adrien. Let us go to the sitting room.” Adrien looked to Mari over his shoulder with concern and confusion. She was too busy trying to clean up the broken tea cup to pay Adrien any attention. Adrien turned back around as he was dragged helplessly away by Chloe.

                                                     Adrien’s POV

   As Chloe lead Adrien to the sitting room for tea, he couldn’t help but be concerned for the well-being of that maid. She looked no older than himself, she was an attractive young woman too. Long hair that was so black it looked blue tied into a pink bow at the end, pale porcelain skin, wide bluebell eyes with obvious Asian heritage, and an off-white blouse tucked into a pink skirt with a white apron with a cherry blossom design on the corner of it. Though it wasn’t her appearance that was concerning to him, it was the fear in her eyes when Chloe had mentioned her father. Adrien’s face adorned a scowl as he was taken out of his thought by Chloe.

   “I am so glad you were able to come today, Adrien. You never have time for me anymore, it must be so refreshing to finally be able to spend time with people more of your status and not that monstrosity of a jester. I feel so bad for you Adrikins.” Adrien pushed the thoughts about the maid aside and looked at Chloe curiously.

   “You mean Nino?”

   “Whatever the low life’s name is.” Adrien frowned once more, which was becoming quite a common occurrence in Chloe’s presence.

   “Nino is my loyal friend. He’s just as good as any noble, if not better, Chloe.” She evidently found that thought amusing.

   “Of course he is Adrien,” She laughed. “and Mari’s not a maid, she’s actually a queen.”

   “Chloe, I’m serious. You need to treat people with more respect, even if they’re of a lower status.” This made her scoff.

   “Yeah, whatever, Adrien. Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about something important.” Chloe sat down on the love-seat, still clinging onto Adrien’s arm.

   “Which is?” Her icy blue eyes light up like a candle flame. Adrien picked up a tea cup and took a sip.

   “About our wedding, of course!” Adrien promptly choked on the beverage and started to cough violently. Once he recovered, he gave Chloe a horrified look that she paid no mind to.

   “What?!” Chloe tisked.

   “We have to plan our upcoming wedding, I mean, I shall not settle for anything less than perfect. I still need a dress, yellowed trimmed of course and-”

   “Stop. You know very well that I’m already betrothed to the Princess Marinette.” Chloe nodded.

   “Of course I know that, I’m the one you’re marrying.”

   “Pardon?”

   “I’m Ladybug. Or, well, Marinette.” Adrien was done with this visit and he hadn’t even been there an hour yet.

    “Okay, first off, my father knew your mother when she was pregnant with you and she wasn’t Sabine Dupain-Cheng. Second, you look nothing like Tom or Sabine, you don’t even have any Asian features, you’re pure-blood french.”

   “Well, I obviously didn’t take after my parents, but that’s not that uncommon, Adrien.” He groaned.

   “Do you know what Chloe? I’m leaving. I’m sorry, I’m just spent with you right now.” Adrien pried Chloe off of him and started towards to the hallway.

  “But Adrikins!” Chloe cried out, making him cringe.

   “Good day, Miss Bourgeois.” He said sternly. Adrien quick walked down the hallway and looked over his shoulder to check if Chloe was following him or not. While doing so, he managed to run into something. Falling to the ground, he caught himself with his hands. Looking to what he had hit, he quickly realized the compromised situation he was stuck in. Trapped underneath him was the maid from earlier, Mari Dupain whose face was as red as a tomato. China shards has spilled all over her from the impact of the fall. Adrien suddenly became very aware that he had not made a move to get up for much too long.

   “Oh heavens! I am so sorry, Miss Dupain.I-”He stammered only to be interrupted.

   “There is no need to be sorry, Your Highness. It was completely my fault.” Adrien, for the what seemed like the twentieth time that day, frowned.

   “I-uh, No it wasn-”

   “ADRIKINS!” Adrien paled. Oh no, he thought, I need to get out of here.

   “I’m so sorry, but I-uh have to go...right now.” Adrien explained. Mari’s brow furrowed with concern as she watched him basically run to the door, with Chloe hot on his heels.

                                 Previous Chapter  |  Next Chapter

[aboxthecolourofheartache]

@vassraptor​ replied to your post “I have stalled out on this fic.  Well.  All three of the current...”

moe and nif fusion? particularly mei changsu in jedao's place?

This is a bit light on the Mei Changsu, but it’s the part that sprang into my head first.  There’s a draft with more MCS-as-Jedao(ish) on the back burner, though!  It’s super ugly yet, and after a day of packing the moving van, I wanted to whack out something from a perspective that doesn’t thwart me at every turn.  ^^;

**Indirect spoilers for Revenant Gun**

Isolation pushes even the strongest to the brink.  Mei Changsu’s voice circles the vase of flowers, around and around.  Lin Chen finds it difficult to turn his back on the vase even though he knows, with absolute certainty, that Changsu is no threat to him as a ghost.  The Shuos in him wants more eyes on Changsu.

“You said you propagate them yourself?” Changsu asks.  His voice has not strayed more than half a meter from the chrysanthemums in the past hour.

Lin Chen’s shoulder blades prickle.  “I do,” he answers.  The flowers are spectacular.  Yellow melts into green so pale it all but vanishes against a white background.  Sunset reds nest between saffron oranges and purples from the edge of blue to the cusp of red.  Lin Chen brought them as a present for Mei Changsu, whose voice scrapes raw when he talks about colors.  Grid-projected flowers are colorful, but Lin Chen firmly believes only a real flower knows color best.  Perhaps they are too much for someone fresh from three weeks shut into the Black Cradle.  

Lin Shu’s self control flutters loose at the edges like a flag too long in high winds.  Successfully and safely modifying Mei Changsu’s new signifiers will take longer than Lin Chen expected, because he has to account for their combined effect on Lin Shu’s core ethics.  He and Lin Shu agree to protect those ethics at all costs, even if it makes Mei Changsu’s overall presentation more unstable.  The interactions of the three signifiers together is making for an alarming tendency towards self-loathing, which, mixed with Lin Shu’s recent latent traumas, promises disaster.  They are supposed to be talking about alternatives, but Mei Changsu cannot make himself leave the flowers.

“What do they smell like?”

The readouts under Lin Chen’s fingers display the coefficients of Lin Shu’s soul, if there is such a thing.  Lin Chen winces away from the heart-breaking spike in equations of longing when Changsu speaks, guiltily grateful that the revenant’s attention is fixed elsewhere.  Even a dead Liozh can still spin a web.  The Liozh Mirrorweb represented interconnection and meditative self reflection.  Lin Chen takes a self-deprecating moment to reflect that he, a Nirai with a Shuos variant, should have known better than to invite a web into his home and expect not to be caught up.

(Wishful thinking suggests Kujen drew the same conclusion and decided to rid the universe of spiders spinning webs of inconvenient conscience across space like cheesewire strung up for unwary psychopaths.  Moth meet web.  Perhaps he did not care to be sliced to the quick by a sense he deliberately cut out of himself.  In reality, the hanging curtains of Liozh influence likely offended his sense of mathematical aesthetics, so he dusted them out of the rafters with a rail gun.)

“...Lin Chen?”  Mei Changsu’s voice halfway between Lin Chen and the flowers.  He is shredding himself between his starving need for human interaction after the isolation and sensory stimulation after complete deprivation.

Lin Chen stands and sets down his grid tablet.  In return for complete trust, the bare minimum he can give Mei Changsu in return is his complete and undivided attention.  Changsu is a disembodied presence, but he is still a person, more than the numbers on a screen however entrancing they might be.  Thinking of people as numbers to manipulate in one’s favor is the knife edge of a precipice.  (Mei Changsu is not the only one with a core of ethics to protect.)  The Nirai boosts himself up to sit next to the vase on the table and touches the flowers.

“They smell like pollen and spice and earth and rot,” says Lin Chen.  “The red ones are a sweeter spice.  For some reason the yellows always end up smelling like surgical soap.  No matter what I do to breed it out of them - surgical soap.  The purples are modified from a perfume variety I cadged off an Andan who owed me a favor.  It took fifteen generations to make them smell like chrysanthemums again and not vanilla….”

[aizawa-yamada-shinsou]

When you thought things couldn’t get more absurd

Summary- In a group of murders, psychos, and demons, it’s the normal innocent egos that seem odd and out of place. But what happens when these egos aren’t as innocent as those around him are lead to believe? 

Genre- Fluffy fluff. 

@immortalpoptart I was gonna post this all at once but my roommate had some emotional issues I had to help her out with so I hope you still enjoy just getting the first part. I’ll get the next two parts up as soon as I can!

The office felt uneasy for days. The unfortunate discovery of Bim’s not so human background came as a shock to most, even without the little detail of them finding him snacking on a human corpse into the equation. He admitted he liked pretending to be human better than a demon so his deep purple ram horns and jagged razor claws stayed hidden, his eyes remained the brown they always had instead of the fluorescent purple slits that had appeared, his skin less lilac and more tan, and his mouth stayed human-sized full of human looking teeth. The game show host tried to act as he always did, happy and excitable, but there was an underlying unease to him as if he was waiting for… something to happen. The backlash from the egos he had turned timid probably, most unnerved after the display of bloodlust and gluttony he had displayed, or perhaps the demand, hidden as an offer, from Dark to use his power for the monochrome ego’s will.

Even the normally calm and collected egos or the innocently oblivious egos were acting on edge around him. Most concerningly were the Jims. The four brothers had seemed to flock to the older ego almost as soon as they gained life, respecting the weak light-hearted ego almost more than they did Dark and their creator. The week after their reveal all five of the egos seemed on edge around each other, each Jim glancing at Bim uncertainty anytime they were in a room together, opening and closing their mouths as if to say something before looking away. They didn’t seem to know what to do, and Bim seemed unwilling to push them one way or another just watching them with resignation.  

It was the Friday after the reveal that the others noticed the disappearance of the Jims. Even after Wilford had searched the Studio from top to bottom and the Googles checked the security feeds they still couldn’t find the quads anywhere on the grounds or inside the Office. With no other options in sight they tracked down Bim, he always seemed to know what the brothers were up to, even when they weren’t talking.

“Trimmer!” Wilford sang, kicking down the door to the greenhouse. The man leaped, magic shocking himself turning his usual black suit polka dotted. Bim shook himself out before turning to the entrance, eyebrow raised as Bing, Dr. Iplier, and Jackieboy followed Wilford inside.

“Everything okay, Wil?”

“Have you seen the Jims?” Jackie asked, tugging on his cape without looking at Bim. His eyes widen as he took in the people in front of him before removing his glasses to rub his eyes, mumbling deeply in a smooth chilling language a few recognized from Dark’s use of it.

“Uuuuh English please dude?” Bing asked, only to jump back as the older ego opened his eyes to reveal purple slits.

“I said I know where they are, but we can’t find them until it’s over.”

“Over?” Doc asked, tone even, but eyes hard and judging, “when what is over?”

“The meeting, probably,” the short reply came as Bim replaced his glasses, having them fade back to brown, “They’ll want as many people together as possible,”

“What exactly are you talking about?” Bing asked concerned, “you make it sound like their planning something.”

The smirk they received in response was not comforting. Though the look quickly faded into an angry scowl when Jackie glared at him opening his mouth to warn,

“If you’ve done anything to them…”

Bim growled low in his chest, “You know I haven’t changed Jackie, you just know I’m not human now. I’m still the same Bim that had movie nights with you every month and learned dances to musicals with.”

“You eat people!” He snapped back, arms crossed over his chest tightly.

“Not by choice!” Bim snapped back, “You eat meat and stuff, and nearly everyone that lives in the office has killed someone, so why am I suddenly the bad guy because I’m forced by my biology to eat human flesh? Because I’m more like everyone else that lives here then you realized?”

The superhero didn’t answer, just turning on his heel and leaving the greenhouse. Bim deflated as he left, face falling slightly as the others stared at him with mild unease. Wilford pushed past it first, placing a hand on Bim’s shoulder.

“Don’t be so sad, chap!” He said smiling brightly, “Some of us just need to get used to these changes. It’ll all work out in the end,”

The younger man just shrugged off his hand and turned, disappearing into a lilac puff of smoke, leaving the rest to stare at each other, guilt twinging their stomachs. Doc Iplier rolled his eyes, turning to leave as well.

“Honestly, you’d think a demon wouldn’t be as sensitive,”

Wilford scowled at the man but stayed silent.

Bim was one of the first to the meeting room, eyes trained on the table from where he was slouched in his seat. He seemed to wither even more as more people filled in, feeling the heavy weight of eyes burning into him. As Dark entered, singling the meeting as to start, he straightened his tie, noting that the four seats reserved for the Jims were the only ones empty.

“I see that our eccentric news crew is still missing,” He hummed as conversations faded around the room, “I thought I sent some of you to find them when they did not appear at breakfast,”

“Well Bim had some lovely insight on that, Darky,” Wilford answered smirking at the scowl his nicknamed earned, “apparently they don’t want to be found,”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Anti piped in from his place at the table, “The puff balls playing a game or something?”

“Or something,” Bim mumbled statement carried through the room. Jackie’s glare on him was intensified.

“How do we know you didn’t do something to them?”

Bim’s head shot up, boiling rage causing his teeth to sharpen, “Seriously!? Why the hell would I hurt the little Imps? Why do you suddenly want to make me the villain for everything Jackieboy?”

Before the superhero could fire back a retort the speakers around the rooms crackled to life. Fast pop music poured into the room making all the egos look around in confusion until two thumps were heard. On the table stood Jackieboy, and Doctor Iplier, eyes glazed and clothes slowly melting into a 90 esque girl clothing, matching baggy black graphic off the shoulder tees tucked into puffy pastel skirts paired with bright leg warmers and converse shoes. The other egos sat in shock, a mixture of amusement and horror growing on their face as the two egos began dancing and singing their hearts out to “Girls Just wanna have fun.” Anti, Wilford, Robbie, and Bing had no problem laughing outright at the start of the song, Jameson clapping his hands in silent laughter with them. Slowly Oliver, Yandere, and Chase started giggling soon after the pair started bobbing and shimmying to the beat, and by the halfway point, Marvin and Schneeplestien had joined in watching with keen eyes as Doc and Jackie, twirled around like preteens. Dark rubbed his eyes, a snarl rising in his throat. 

“Wilford, if this is your doing….” Dark trailed off as the floor was covered in dark tinted smoke that looked like oil spreading across the carpet, morphing into a ball pit, the plastic balls rising until they were level with the table edge.

“Oh I wish this was my handy work,” Wil wheezed out, wiping a tear from his eye as Jackie launched himself into the ball pit with a cry of,

“I LOVE BALLS!”

Doc backflipped off the table after him sending balls flying across the room. No sooner did both of their heads disappear under the sea of plastic that they shot to their feet, eyes clear.

“What happened?” Doctor Iplier asked shakily as he glanced around the room taking in the plastic balls and laughing faces, before glancing down and yelping, “What am I wearing?”

Jackie blushed, pulling down his skirt, eyes flashing over the egos in the room, “Funny guys, who did this? Anti I swear if this was you…”

“Aww…” Heads wiped around to see the four previously empty seats now were filled, “They keep giving our credit away to other, Jim,”

Reporter Jim nodded sadly at Weatherman Jim’s whining, “I know Jim, quite upsetting,”

“Why four came up with this?” Wilford’s question was met with the quad laughed loudly.

“Of course!” Cameraman Jim giggled, glancing at his camera screen, “We even recorded it!”

“We couldn’t let you guys getting away with being mean to Boss now can we?” Field reporter’s words were bathed innocence but the twisted grin on his face ruined the effect.

“Boss?” Dark questioned, mouth set in a fine line. Instead of the Jims answering Bim broke in.

“I told you four you didn’t need to do this,” He growled, eyes flashing purple as he glared at them. The brothers didn’t even blink, just smiling fondly at the irritated game show host.

“And We told you, boss,” Reporter started before Weatherman cut in,

“That we weren’t going to let people treat you like that,”

“Without getting what was coming to them at least,” Field Reporter added before cameraman laughed.

“Plus did you expect anything less from us, Boss?”

Bim sighed, shaking his head, “No, I know you four little shits too well not to expect you to pull something like this,”

“What you five on about?” Anti asked eyebrow raised, “Since when is he your Boss?”  

“Shall we Jims?” Report asked and the other three Jims nodded in unison.

“We shall Jim?” Most in the room jumped as the oily looking smoke covered the Jims fading away to reveal the four changed egos. Each was a different color, Dark reddish brown, then greying blue, deep green, and finally a pale yellow, but they were identical past that. Four pairs of black soulless eyes sparkled with mirth as the rest of the egos took in their newly revealed forms, from the devil tails twisting together behind them, the shiny scales climbing up their throats and sharp grins, with even sharper teeth, it was impossible to deny the Jims were…

“How are you demons!” Bing yelped, indignantly, “You guys are always freaking out at everything calling it demons before sprinting out off like you’re about to be killed!”

The Jims broke down into crackling laughter as Bim’s head slammed onto the table in front of him.

“I hate you four,” They heard him moan, making the Jims smirk, vaulting the table to crowd around the downed man.

“No you don’t boss!” the brown one, Reporter said cheekily.

The green one, Field, wrapped his arm around Bim’s shoulders, “You would have given us up to Dominix a couple of millennia ago if that was the case,”

“I am not the only one lost right?” Marvin managed to squeak out drawing four devilish grins turning his way.

“Sit down,” The hiss was unexpected and made the brothers jump before slinking off to their seats as Bim sat back up, eyes flashing purple and his horns fading into existence as his emotions spiked.

“You four fucking imps are driving me up a wall,” He said glaring at their deflated states before he let a fond smirk travel up, “At least people will believe me now when I saw you’re all little shits,”

“Trimmer,” Dark spoke evenly, aura twitching giving away his frustration, “Why don’t you explain,”

Bim’s smirk blossomed into the cheerful smile that he was known for, looking chilling paired with his non-human features, “You’re not the only one with Underlings, Dark.”

[lucyannsmith98]

Edits using Procreate (part 2)

There is many parts to this digital edits, i have tried to put them in to some sort of order.

This filter/effect is called hue, saturation and brightness. This allows you to change the colours in the picture from what was originally there. Hue changes the colours. Saturation changes the brightness of the colours, changes the colours from bright to white. The brightness changes the colour for the whole picture from white to black.

I changed the colour from the original colour orange to a bright red. It looks likes something from a graphic film or something that is not natural but could be natural. It reminds me of rolling smoke with coloured lights. I like that the darkness is at the front on the red. I didnt want the red to be too vibrant that it takes over the shape of the clouds.

When changing the hue this changes the colour to blue, changing the colour of the clouds to the inverted colours so the orange was inverted to the blue as they are opposite on the colour wheel. I love the dark moody look to this, i love how dark the clouds are. To get the desired result that I wanted i had to change the brightness and the saturation both down.

For this edit I changed the hue from blue to pink then I had to make the pink lighter for the desired effect and then changing the brightness down to help blend the darkness of the clouds and the pink together.

This was a different effect called curves it allows you to change the colours separately. Gamma changes the light and darkness of the piece and red blue and green changes how much of the colours. Even if you change one of the slides just a little bit and then it would change the whole look and colour of the picture and it is very hard to get the same colour and effect back again once it had changed.

For this image I decided to change the waves from the original. So that the colours is muted on the left side of the piece. Then having all the colours at full to the top or almost full on the right side.

This is the same filter but i was playing around with the the sliders and how far i could strech them. I love all the layering of the colours in this piece i like how the orange is on the back acting like the shading and an outline background colour on the tops and right side of the clouds. I like how the orange is next to the darker blue/green colour of the clouds. Then with the fluffy ness of the clouds it makes it look like the piece is digitally created. I like that the pink is on the top of all the dark colours. I like that around the edge of the window the pink comes back and it looks textured and brushed on. I also like that half the lamppost is a different colour it really makes it stand out and it is different.

This edit is different there is more pink as the pink takes over the whole of the background as the sky. I changed the red and the blue slides to the very top so that they are very high, I lowered the green and the gamma to allow the pink to come through. I like the bottom of the clouds with the yellow, orange and red gradient. I like that the clouds go from the red at the bottom to the darker red and then to the darker blue almost grey then as it gets to the top the darker colours fade out to a lighter grey/blue.

I like this edit i love the way that it looks. I really played with the setting on the slides, the way that the curves of the slides are positioned makes me think of a science or math equation with the ups and downs. I love the way tha the pink is in the background as the colour for the sky, but i love how this one is different to the last edit with the pink sky as the pink is split up with the white along the top of the window area. Along with the neon green at the top of the canvas, and then again at the bottom of the canvas is. I love the colour of the clouds and how they are so bright and then they still have depth to them.

I like the colour pallet that is used in this piece. I love the shade of pink it is bright and vibrant. I like the yellow layer that splits up the pink and the blue of the window area and then the green that comes in at the left corner. I like the colours of the cloud and how pale and light the shade of blue is. I like how the dark is at the right side of the clouds. I like that the top of the lamp post is the same colour as the clouds. I like that there is a peach between the bottom of the clouds and the top of the mounitan.

In this edit i like how i made there be 2 waves in the slides, i dont even know how i did it. I like how the background sky is orange and the yellow that separates from the black of the window frame. I like that this edit is so similar to the previous edit with the cloud colour staying the same with the yellow at the top but the changing the background colour to orange and with the the neon green being swapped for the a light vibrant blue. And instead of the darkness in the clouds being black or dark blue it is more of a dark red which blends in to the orange of the background.

I like how in this edit there is no black in it at all. The clouds are all white apart from the dark area that is a bright pink colour. I like that the colour in between the bottom of the clouds and the top of the mountain is yellow but with the bottom of the clouds and the top of the mountain being the same colour it makes it hard for me to separate where the clouds start and end.

[awesomemakeupcosmeticblog-blog]

Everything you wanted to know about concealers

Download MyGlamm Cosmetics Online Shopping App:

https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.myglamm.ecommerce&hl=en

https://itunes.apple.com/in/app/myglamm-buy-makeup-products/id1282962703?mt=8

Along these lines, in the wake of hearing individuals spout about what face concealers can do to your skin, you found that ideal concealer for yourself and now you are prepared to put your best face forward. In any case, how precisely to do it? The essential job of concealer is to conceal. Regardless of whether it is the dull or shadowed region of the skin like the region around (generally under) eyes, minor or significant spots or imperfections on the skin. Concealer, when connected accurately, can likewise be utilized to cover scars, pigmentations, little tattoos and different issues that reason uneven skin tone.

Difference between foundation and concealer

The face foundation is utilized for a general inclusion whether it's sheer, medium or high. It levels out the skin tone, making the face look impeccable, brilliant and smooth. Concealer stick is utilized to cover darker or pigmented zones, flaws, spots, marks and so on the skin, making it look even in all spots. Concealers likewise parity out redness on the skin. While Foundation gives a general inclusion, concealer enables you to spot right and spread moment or left-over imperfections, discolouration like dark circles and so on the skin. An ordinary concealer should be the precise match of your skin tone or not in excess of a shade or two lighter than your skin. Restorative concealers come in the hues like green, orange, peach, yellow, pink and purple.

Choosing the right concealer formula

Face concealers come in a wide range of structures. There is fluid concealer, concealer sticks, and cream concealer. These all offer various sorts of inclusion, and some might be preferred for certain skin types over others.

In the event that you have enormous pores and slick skin, you might need to maintain a strategic distance from cream or stick concealers, as they may make your pores look greater. Search for a fluid concealer. Utilize a pencil concealer for skin break out, as the directed edge makes it simpler to apply around the skin inflammation spots. Thicker, cream concealers are additionally compelling as they can be formed and mixed over the flaw.

How to utilize?

Concealers are normally connected utilizing brush/tool or even by fingers. Be that as it may, in the event that you are a novice or would prefer not to get untidy, stick concealer is your closest companion. Being in stick structure, it is anything but difficult to utilize, simply swipe it over the region to be covered, and the equation takes into consideration the simplicity of utilization. The non-chaotic, stick concealer can be your go-to face makeup when you are voyaging or notwithstanding for day by day office use. Being convenient to utilize and convey, stick concealers are best wagered for ladies in a hurry.

Picking the right concealer

It is ideal to go for a concealer which is nearest to your skin tone. On the off chance that you can't discover one coordinating your precise skin shading, you can pick a shade or two lighter, however, abstain from going past that. Applying concealer unreasonably light for your skin around the eyes can cause it to seem pale and like white rings around the eyes. On the off chance that you have blue-tinged dark circles, utilize a yellow-based concealer. It will veil the blue discolouration and light up the skin, making the eyes look more brilliant thus. On the off chance that your dark circles are darker, at that point utilize a peach or orange-based concealer. The greater part of the ladies falls under this classification. The orange or peach tones will offset the darker under the eyes making it coordinate your skin tone.

To use before or after

One of the issue individuals frequently face is whether to apply concealer previously or after the Foundation. While there are no set principles, makeup specialists and craftsmen prescribe utilizing concealer in the wake of applying Foundation. When you apply foundation cream first, it conceals a great deal of flaws without anyone else, chopping down the need to spot revision and the measure of concealer utilized.

[ultraisabellaroyal-blog]

Color Theory/Image Explanation/Final Look of Cards

Color Theory The effect that colour has on emotion

Our use of color and why:

We have three colors for the three different kinds of cards. The problem cards will be red, the serious card items blue and the silly item cards purple. The problem cards are red because they require some concentration. This card game is a type of “party game”, in the sense that people will be having fun, probably drinking or else not 100% taking the game as competitively as you would a different game, such as … By having the problem card red the players will be able to concentrate on the card and understand better as red seems to guide attention. Blue will be used for the serious item cards, as they are meant to be used to actually try and solve the problem. We have decided to do this because the color blue is overall a very pleasant color, increased relaxation and calmness, which is the emotions we wish the players to feel. Finally, the color of the silly cards will be purple. 

Purple is also a pleasant color, but in comparison with blue did not calm the players, which is something that we wanted. Blue was to calm, and then purple was to get people excited and into the game. The text on the game cards are in white, so that it is easy for the players to understand and see in comparison to the background color. We decided to do the images in a cartoon-y style to set the tone of the game- ie the images were hand drawn over preexisting images to give it a more unfinished look. Our team member Ben drew some, and the other images were found on a website called “Noun Project” which was a free to use resource. 

This game was a “party game”, which by definition is “a game to amuse guests at a party”, as our target audience was 18- 25 year olds these parties in question would most likely be drinking parties, when having pre-drinks before going out. Because this was the most likely scenario of this game being used we wanted to have the language used to fit this theme. For example, the name of the game is “What You Do!?” which is a quick catchphrase that you can remember. By doing this we were trying to make every aspect of the cards cohesive and work together. By doing this we were able to show the carefree nature of the game while also keeping it interesting and allowing students to learn through problem solving of the problem cards.  

For the logo on the upside of the cards we went with the catchphrase “what you do?!” in the colours that the problem, pisstake items and serious item cards had, so that overall our cards were cohesive in the color scheme. The problem cards (red) are in the size and shape of normal playing cards, however the item cards are in hexagonal shape. (However they can still fit in within the dimensions of the playing cards.) By having these cards in a hexagonal shape we made the items seem more like game pieces. We did this so that we could better differentiate the problem cards from the items- as everyone playing gets 2 item cards but only the judge gets a problem card. In the game the winner of the round gets to keep the problem card, which is counted up when the players wish to stop playing. The person with the most problem cardes wins. By having the items and problem cards different shaped this process gets easier to do and is more clear for the players. By changing the shape up we were also turning away from  traditional card games and making our one look a little bit more individual.

Research found: Abstract from Valdez, P., & Mehrabian, A. (1994). Effects of color on emotions. Journal of Experimental Psychology: General, 123(4), 394-409. https://psycnet.apa.org/record/1995-08699-001 Emotional reactions to color hue, saturation, and brightness (Munsell color system and color chips) were investigated using the Pleasure-Arousal-Dominance emotion model. Saturation (S) and brightness (B) evidenced strong and consistent effects on emotions. Regression equations for standardized variables were: Pleasure = .69B + .22S, Arousal = -.31B + .60S, Dominance = -.76B + .32S. Brightness effects were nearly the same for chromatic and achromatic colors. Blue, blue-green, green, red-purple, purple, and purple-blue were the most pleasant hues, whereas yellow and green-yellow were the least pleasant. Green-yellow, blue-green, and green were the most arousing, whereas purple-blue and yellow-red were the least arousing. Green-yellow induced greater dominance than red-purple. (PsycINFO Database Record (c) 2016 APA, all rights reserved)

Abstract from Michał Kuniecki1*, Joanna Pilarczyk1 and Szymon Wichary (29 April 2015). https://www.frontiersin.org/articles/10.3389/fnhum.2015.00212/full The color red is known to influence psychological functioning, having both negative (e.g., blood, fire, danger), and positive (e.g., sex, food) connotations. The aim of our study was to assess the attentional capture by red-colored images, and to explore the modulatory role of the emotional valence in this process, as postulated by Elliot and Maier (2012) color-in-context theory. Participants completed a dot-probe task with each cue comprising two images of equal valence and arousal, one containing a prominent red object and the other an object of different coloration. Reaction times were measured, as well as the event-related lateralizations of the EEG. Modulation of the lateralized components revealed that the color red captured and later held the attention in both positive and negative conditions, but not in a neutral condition. An overt motor response to the target stimulus was affected mainly by attention lingering over the visual field where the red cue had been flashed. However, a weak influence of the valence could still be detected in reaction times. Therefore, red seems to guide attention, specifically in emotionally-valenced circumstances, indicating that an emotional context can alter color’s impact both on attention and motor behavior.

Abstract from The influence of color on student emotion, heart rate, and performance in learning environments (Aseel AL‐Ayash, Robert T. Kane, Dianne Smith, Paul Green‐Armytage, First published: 26 February 2015) https://doi.org/10.1002/col.21949 In addition, the results suggested that, regardless of the degree of whiteness, the hue had a significant impact on participants' emotions; blue increased relaxation and calmness feelings of participants compared to the other colors. Vivid colors are to be understood as colors with high chromaticness and little whiteness or blackness; pale colors as having more whiteness than chromaticness and virtually no blackness.