Naruto Paint Novels & Stories

D Fox The story Nathan talks about when he explains his tattoos is Sakura Gari (The Hunt for Cherry Blossoms) by the brilliant Yuu Watase. He was the character I was most hesitant about when writing, just because Nathan is the ‘misunderstood’ one; the one even I couldn’t always understand.

H***d mode pala. Ahhh! Di ko mapigilan mamula! Biglang ngumisi yung katabi ko sa kanan...si Jin. Nag-green na siguro ang kukuti nito. Pero parang natatawa siya sa kilos ko. Sobra talaga akong kinakabahan eh... Anong hitsura ng maii-paint ko dito! Huhuhu... Okey professinal tayo... Kunyari hindi nude ang ipipaint ko.

Mango looked at the painting hung in the painting house and felt they looked more or less familiar. All of a sudden, her eyes turned red. It was her work when she just started to learn painting at the age of four. In fact, it was not even an artwork. It was just graffiti. But how did Nathaniel have it? Mango came to the painting and looked at the mark left by herself on the top. She was sure this was the painting drawn by her in the past.

Vardan hadn't just bitten him, he had planted a claim that burned through his nerves. Sora grabbed a blank canvas from the wall. He needed a distraction. He sat on a high wooden stool, dipping a broad brush into pitch-black paint and slashing it across the surface. The lines were jagged, sharp, and aggressive. But when he closed his eyes, those burning gold pupils in the darkness of the bar haunted him. Unconsciously, his fingers reached for the ochre paint. He traced a sharp circle resembling a predator’s eye in the center of his dark mess.

Aria’s POV The brushes moved gracefully between my fingers as I studied the final touches on the canvas before me. The painting had evolved into something I hadn’t initially envisioned—a lighthouse standing tall and steadfast, surrounded by a mesmerizing swirl of colors that seemed to represent the changing seasons. Spring’s vibrant greens melted into summer’s golden warmth, which blended into autumn’s fiery hues before softening into winter’s cool blues and whites. The scene was stylized and whimsical, the waves and skies swirling together like a dreamscape.

Master asks and I nod. "I'll be okay! We've painted the base colour so I can focus on the little animals," I say and Master sighs. "Okay but please sit on the chair," my dad says and I nod and roll my eyes. "I'll be okay!" My dad and Master start unpacking the huge flat box with the crib inside while I sit on my chair and organise my paints to paint a jungle mural on the wall. My first animal will be a tiger so I get orange to do my base colour.

GIANNA I come back from the diner and go straight to the studio and paint like I'm trying to kill the canvas. There was no plan, no sketch, no gentle heart-guided brushwork. Just pure rage. The palette is all darks with Prussian blue, burnt umber, alizarin crimson so deep it looks like dried blood.

he said, I turned to find him dipping a paint brush in a can. He didn't seem to care, and he had been here longer than I had, so I took his words for it. “Could you lend me a hand?” He demanded, “Sure,” I replied, walking up to him. I stood next to him as he mixed the red paint with blue. “I ran out of purple,” he explained, I nodded, and watched as he created a masterpiece. He had completed the clouds in the background, alongside a diagram of the sun.

Jon mumbled. "And that undisclosed buyer is me," said Dante smiling widely, his sharp teeth glistening in the dim room. "Let's see if you can guess who painted the next one." Dante walked eagerly to the next painting, his cane tapping on the wooden floor like a one-legged giant insect. He likewise turned on the pin lights and the painting exploded in colors of bright red and burnt sienna. "This painting is something I really like. Tell me what you think?" The second painting showed a half-naked man with eyes opened wide as if in a crazed state. In his hand was something that looked like a severed human arm while blood was seen dripping from his mouth. He appeared to be in a desert and faint

"Gorgo... your face... your wolf is..." "What is wrong with all of your senses?" I laugh, looking between my three closest pack friends. "Does my natural skin make me look like a hairless forest mutant?" Nyra’s own face is currently a total disaster. She loves coating her skin in wild, dark ceremonial ash and heavy smokey warrior paints, but right now, her sweat and tears have smeared the black grease all over her muzzle.