#getting more comfortable drawing buildings and interiors :)
Text
𐙚chris' girl ; chapter one ― matt sturniolo
summary: y/n goes home with chris after the party. matt let's his desires get the best of him. i suck at summaries lmfao
notes/warnings: chris x reader x matt, nsfw !! slight perv!matt, masturbation, vouyerism (??) a hint of toxic!chris, that's it i think idk ?? i've decided to break up the chapters to be a lil shorter so it's easier to read ! that way there will be more of them too <3
read the intro if you haven't already :) LUV YALL IM NERVOUS ABT THIS ONE ....
not caring what response the random guy had to say, matt kept walking. while leaving completely wasn't an option, who's to say he couldn't wait in the car? enticed by the idea of complete silence and peace, matt strolled to the front door of the house and made his way up the street to the car. with a short beep of the car unlocking, he hopped in and shut the door, sighing in relief. after sitting idle for a moment, he was unsure what to do. was this a new low? hiding in the car from my brother and his girlfriend....jesus. defeat struck again, making him rest his arms and forehead against the steering wheel. what the fuck is wrong with me? amid his wallowing, a low buzz vibrates repeatedly from his back pocket. matt grabs his phone, the bright screen illuminating the dark interior of the car. not one, but five texts from nick:
matt rolled his eyes at his brother's hollow threat.
a tinge of anger made its way through matt's veins. of course chris did something. it wouldn't be fair to cuss out chris until he knew the whole context, but, fuck, was he close to. he squinted, seeing nick and y/n walking side by side towards the car, chris behind them on his phone. he couldn't read y/n's expression or chris'. they all got in the car awkwardly in silence. matt looked at nick for a quick nonverbal explanation, but nick shook his head like he wasn't allowed to say a word. with that, matt takes the cue to start the car and head home. in the rearview mirror, he sees ample distance between chris and y/n. chris' hand creeps onto her thigh, but she moves it off.
"you're seriously still mad?" chris mumbles, trying not to draw attention
y/n ignores him, staring out the window for any kind of distraction.
"this is ridiculous." he scoffs under his breath
nick scrambles for the aux cord and puts on some soft music to alleviate the growing tension. matt discreetly nods at nick for his idea.
other than the music playing, it's silent for almost ten minutes until chris starts instigating again.
"can we talk about it at least? y/n?" he pokes her thigh, but her gaze remains on the buildings that pass by
y/n's voice shakes, "no, not right now."
"so you're gonna be mad at me and not tell me why?" he rhetorically asks, raising his voice so that it overpowers the volume of the music
nick's eyes flick to matt's nervously.
"chris, let's not do this in front of them, please. just wait." y/n requests, fighting the urge to match his vexed tone, but it comes out even
matt lets it be quiet for a minute, then clears his throat, "so-uh, y/n, should i just bring you back to our place?"
her eyes meet his in the mirror and he gives her a comforting smile, mutely letting her know that the invitation is open but that she doesn't have to.
"um, yeah, if you don't mind." her eyes hold onto matt's stare longer than he expected, finally returning back to the window.
the rest of the ride is filled with an uncomfortable silence, everyone shifting awkwardly in their seats and checking their phones.
what felt like an eternity in the car was finally over as matt pulled into the garage. not even waiting for the car to be off, chris swings his seat belt off and gets out. y/n tries to keep up, quickly running behind him to where matt and nick assumed was chris' room.
after the garage door fully closed behind y/n, matt gestured for nick and him to get out.
"so you don't know what happened at all?" matt interrogates nick, locking the car
nick opens his mouth to start speaking, opening the door into the house, but puts a finger up to his mouth with wide eyes.
"what?" matt whispered entering the first level of the house
nick shushed him, steadily walking up the stairs to the second floor to reach the living room. curiously, matt did the same.
"i thought i heard y/n...it sounded like she was in pain or something...." nick spoke so quietly, matt had to step closer to hear him. the two brothers turned in the direction of chris' room, waiting for a sound, but there was nothing.
matt starts to walk away, "nick, c'mon-"
"mmh, chris, fuck..." y/n's muffled moan travels down the hall.
matt freezes, blood rushing to his cheeks and ears. holy fuck. the sounds coming from chris' room were borderline pornographic. y/n's sweet mewls mixed with chris' low groans could be heard over the sound of the skin slapping over and over again.
"wow, that was fast. usually, they fight a little more before this part." nick grabs his headphones routinely from the dinner table, "you know, i told chris not to do that shit when we're here anymore. it's fucking weird. but if he's not gonna listen to me, the least he can do is close his door all the way."
with no response from matt, nick looks to him. matt stands completely still, eyes glued to the hallway of chris' room, definitely not hearing a word nick just said.
"matt? what the fuck are you doing?" nick hits his arm, snapping matt out of the trance he'd been put in.
"what? sorry-i think i need to go to bed. i'm really tired." a lie so bad, he cringed the second it left his mouth. thankfully, nick had enough alcohol in him for it to go unnoticed for once.
"well, good luck with that." nick gave him a part on the back, slipping his headphones on and walking to his room.
once nick's door was shut, matt shuts his eyes tightly and took a deep breath. just go to your room, plain and simple. close the door and go to bed. matt opened his eyes, taking hesitant steps into the hallway. with each step, y/n's moans grew louder. it started feeling real, too real. he clenched his fist and held his breath, making it the space between chris' bedroom door and his; conveniently right across from one another. the sounds were no longer muffled and he could almost feel the heat radiating from the room. like he was being timed, matt slipped into his room, closing his door, but leaving it cracked the slightest bit open. peering with a fraction of his face, he could partially see past the crack of chris' door. the sliver he was permitted was of y/n. her eyebrows knitted together, both hands holding her up as she grips onto the sheets of the bed white-knuckled. her body rocks back and forth as she fucks into chris, who drills into her from behind relentlessly. she gasps every couple of thrusts when chris goes deeper. a string of their curses echoes throughout the whole upstairs. matt feels himself getting hard at the sight and sound her. it was so wrong, he knew that. a sudden wave of shame pours over him. if chris knew the things he thought about his girlfriend, matt was certain chris would shoot him dead between the eyes. so, making sure they don't hear, matt closes his door. he kicks off his shoes, peels his jeans and shirt off, and crawls into bed. it's pitch black in his room, leaving too much to the imagination. loud and clear, he can still hear y/n's erotic sounds. so pretty. even when she's getting her brains fucked out, she sounds so fucking pretty. matt had watched his fair share of porn in the past. he could never fully get off to how most of the girls sounded. sure, most of it is scripted after all, but none of it really got him going. there were always too screechy for him. but not y/n. she sounded like an angel.
he almost felt nauseous with guilt about these thoughts he was having. distraughtly, he turned over on his side, making eye contact with headphones that sat on his bedside table. maybe nick had the right idea. reaching for them lazily, he turned them on. a small circular red light blinked on the side indicating a dead battery. great. he rolled over onto his back, both hands pushing his hair out of his face. a loud slap sounded, earning a pleased whimper from y/n. matt's mouth formed an 'o' in shock. he didn't think she was into that...
he couldn't handle it any longer. the bulge in his boxes throbbing so bad it started to hurt.
just this once, matt...
lightly, his hand snuck under the covers, to his erection, palming it. he winced, the mere contact already giving him the relief he needed. another slap against y/n's ass echoed, working him up enough to touch himself underneath his boxers. grabbing the base of his shaft and stroking upwards, he shut his eyes, imagining he was the one making y/n sound like that. it was easy to tap into this fantasy for him, not being the first time, in truth. he could see it so clearly: him holding her hips, moving her body against his as he fucked into her. her soft skin sticky with sweat, little baby hairs clinging to her forehead as he kissed her lips and neck. he would take his time with her. not like chris. he would grab her neck if she'd let him, holding her securely. he'd leave little marks all along her tits. god, her tits. the thought of them alone was enough to make him cum right there. he'd fuck her as long as he physically could, as long as she wanted him to. and the face she'd make when she cums....the way she'd whine his name, holding onto him for dear life.
he was almost there, eyes screwing shut even tighter than before. his chest rose and fell at a brash pace, sucking in air, as he felt his release nearing. his free hand grabs onto his sheets, hips lifting up to fuck himself into his hand. so fucking close...
but then there's silence from the other room. mid-stroke, matt pauses, keeping his eyes closed. suddenly, chris' door slams. a meek knock on his own door causes matt's eyes to flash open in fear.
"matt...?" y/n knocks again, a little louder, "are you awake?"
໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა taglist ; @forevergirlposts , @soimightlikeoldmen69 , @sl0t4matt , @st7rnioioss , @sturn3ol0 , @vickyzloserz , @@mayhem-72
lmk if u wanna be tagged, hotties !!
#jules speaks !! 🐻ིྀ#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets x reader#cdbabymp3
814 notes
·
View notes
Note
hiii i just read "your melon bread" fic of denji and IT'S SO GOOD (i smashed the follow button immediately lol)
and i saw your asks are open so can i request a part 2 of it where the next day when denji, aki and power are patrolling the town and they walked pass a bakery and denji remembered what happened yesterday and forced aki to get inside and buy him melon bread but was greeted by the reader who's family owns the bakery (this is my first time requesting so sorry if it gets confusing and feel free to ignore this if u dont want to or if it makes u uncomfortable :3)
and can i be the 🦈 anon thankksss hope u have a good morning/evening/night ^_^
Denji Hayakawa - Half Your Melon Bread 2
🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.
Hey 🦈Shark anon! Sorry for the absurdly long delay, but I've finally completed your ask. At first, I was just going to ignore it since “Half Your Melon Bread” was supposed to be a one-off thing, but the more I thought about it, the more I came to like it! — Benny🐰
Part 1
🍞•♡•🥐•♡•🥖•♡•🫓•♡•🥨•♡•🥯•♡•🥞•♡•🧇
Aki was… perplexed to say the least. The fiend(?) that he had been tasked to watch over hadn't so much as muttered Makima's name since yesterday; it was kind of unsettling. All the blonde idiot seemed to do was stare off into the distance and mutter something about bread.
While the topknot-styled man was a bit relieved that he wasn't being bothered by both of the idiots under his watch; he did grow a bit concerned. It seemed as though Power had as well, judging by the hard stare that she was drilling into the side of the Chainsaw Devil hybrid's head. The strawberry blonde hadn't uttered a word since they left the house; only staring at him in silence with a deep frown on her face.
Denji himself was deep in thought. That stranger… he never got their name; they left before he could ask. He did remember their face though, so he'll definitely thank them when he sees them again and maybe they'd let him touch their chest—
Bonk!
The dirty blonde walked right into a light pole while he was distracted by his thoughts. The boy groaned as he clutched his head in a futile attempt to soothe the pain and the ringing in his ears. As he looked at what he'd run into, he saw a soft yellow light in the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he saw that he, Aki, and Power were standing in front of a bakery.
A bakery… Baking… Bread is baked… Oh! Melon bread! He could get some of that here!
Quickly, Denji walks into the building, ignoring the annoyed protests of the senior devil hunter and cheers for food from the blood fiend. The smell of butter freshly baked dough immediately permeated his nostrils as he walked through the door. It was a comforting but hunger-inducing smell that had likely not only him, but everyone else in the building heavily salivating.
“Welcome to Chubby Bunny Bakery; I can help you right over here, Sir.”
A voice from behind the dirty blonde draws his attention from observing the bakery's interior and to the order station.
The devil man's eyes widen as he sees the figure standing behind the display case. It was the stranger from yesterday in the park! They were holding onto a sheet pan of cookies; sliding the display case glass backing to the side and putting the pan of cookies inside.
“It's you!”
Denji exclaims as he, rather rudely, points at them; finger only inches from their face due to how close he already was.
The stranger stares at him for a bit before they chuckles and gently grab his wrist to pull his hand down. They grab a small menu card from a stack of them that sits next to the register and place it in front of him with a small smile.
“Yes, it's me, bread boy. Did you have anything in mind already? If not, you can look at our menu here to help you decide.”
The stranger tells him, tapping the menu card between them twice.
“Oh! Uh– melon bread. Pl—”
The devil man was interrupted by a firm grip on his shoulder flipping him around to face an incredibly annoyed aki.
“And what money are you going to use to pay for it? Not mine.”
The raven-haired man asked rhetorically as he glared at the younger boy.
While Aki was talking the stranger came back to the front with a beige wax paper bag in their hand and held it out to the dirty blonde. Denji gingerly took it in his hand, ignoring his superior's irate rantings, and pulled out the glazed treat. He took a hesitant bite and his cheeks flushed a soft pink as the sweet melon flavor washed over his tongue.
The stranger smiled at him before turning to the top-knot-baring man with their hand out expectantly. He sighed as he realized that he would be paying for Denji's food after all. Shoving his hand into his back pocket; he takes out his wallet and reluctantly forks over the needed amount, though not before he throws a nasty glare the younger boy's way.
“So, uh, I never got your name. Or gave you mine, really. I'm Denji.”
The dirty blonde shyly muttered between nibbles of his sweet treat.
The stranger chuckles at his timid demeanor, figuring that he was just feeling a little embarrassed by the fact that he had no money. They rest their chin in the palm of their hand as they look him up and down; thinking about how he kind of reminds them of a dog.
“Well, nice to meet you, Denji. I'm [Name].”
They introduce themself lazily; taking his hand in theirs and giving it a firm shake.
Suddenly though, the baked treat was snatched from the dirty blonde's hand by a wild Power as she dashed to the door.
“Sharing is caring, henchman!”
The blood fiend shouts as she is chased out of the door by both males.
[Name] stares at the door for a few seconds before letting out an amused chuckle. What a strange bunch, they thought with a smile.
🍞•♡•🥐•♡•🥖•♡•🫓•♡•🥨•♡•🥯•♡•🥞•♡•🧇
🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.
Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!
#male reader#gender neutral reader#gn reader#csm#csm denji#csm x reader#csm x gn reader#csm x male reader#csm x gender neutral reader#chainsaw man#chainsaw man denji#chainsaw man x reader#chainsaw man x gn reader#chainsaw man x male reader#chainsaw man x gender neutral reader#denji#denji x reader#denji x gn reader#denji x male reader#denji x gender neutral reader#denji hayakawa#hunn1e bunn1e's ask box#answered asks#ask box#answered#answered anon#🦈shark anon
220 notes
·
View notes
Text
Can we talk about how sometimes I see people confuse nests and dens completely? Because it happens a surprising amount.
First of all, what IS a nest when it comes to mammals specifically, considering Omegaverse draws inspiration from animal behavior?
Here are some NON-BIRD google results for "animal nest", "mammal nest" and similar searches, a.k.a. This is a representation of Animal Nests:
Notable features:
the nest is BUILT. The structure is specifically created/crafted from materials that may or may not belong to the surrounding environment, but it is clearly built by the animal for either themselves or their offspring, usually for the purpose of resting in.
The nest is built in a mostly-round shape, and the sides of the nest are covered, while the top usually isn't. The height of the sides varies however, so the space in the middle may appear more cavernous at times. Nests are often made in sheltered locations where they remain hidden, but actual shelter from rain etc is not necessarily a part of a nest.
Now then, what are the searches for DENS? Here's what google comes up with when you look for "animal den" or "mammal den", a.k.a. a generic representation of what dens are:
Notable features:
Dens are DUG, instead of built. They are tunnel-like features in the terrain that do not utilize manipulation of material to craft a structure, like nests do.
Dens are tunnel-like. They are covered at the top and most sides, with an opening at the side for entry and exit. They are dug into hillsides, under trees, and occasionally flat ground in order to ensure a space where the top of the den will be covered, much like a cave.
So, what's the difference when it comes to omegaverse, especially lifestylers?
A nest is a structure you build. An example of a nest is when you organize all your blankets and pillows to form "walls" around you in your bed (shape, structure, meant for rest, utilizes the action of building with materials). A nest could also be a bean bag in the corner of your room that you surround with soft things and maybe even other larger items to block a direct view into it (sheltered location, intentionally buolt structure). Nests also are generally far softer- not that dens are uncomfortable, but nests tend to be made in places that are ALREADY comfortable, such as bean bags, beds and sofas.
A den is a bit more difficult to define, but to me, a den is anything you build UNDER something, i.e. utilizing an estabilished structure to provide shelter, including a closed top. Bringing blankets and cozy things under your desk or bed to create a super sheltered tunnel-like structure? That's a den, buddy.
One thing I find is "a bit of both", is pillow/blanket forts. It's obviously built intentionally and doesn't utilize an existing structure, but it usually includes a covered top and a tunnel- or cavern-like internal structure. It isn't quite a nest, but it also isn't truly a den because it involves intentional creation of a structure. Personally I tend to lean more towards them being den-adjacent, but depending on how comfortable and soft the interior is, you could consider pillow/blanket forts "dens with a nest built inside".
Anyway, I feel it's important to add that your dynamic doesn't necessarily determine which you prefer. An Alpha can nest and an Omega can burrow. It's personal preference- the only reason there are any associations are mostly because omega nests are seen as cozy, comfortable structures built to house offspring and/or made for sleeping/resting, while alpha dens are seen more as shelters from the elements and structures inside of which you can isolate yourself to get over a rut or even just to hibernate.
Additionally... An idea for a headcanon reasoning is that Omegas generally don't burrow and are discouraged from creating dens for themselves by society because it's seen as an "alpha thing" and that Omegas don't need the shelter and protection a den offers because "an alpha will come and take care of you anyway, so you can just share the alpha's den". Similarly, alphas could be discouraged from nesting because it's seen as "omega behavior" and not 'suitable' for an alpha. Very much mirrors emotional vulnerability, interests and preferences irl; men aren't "allowed" to like soft things or 'be' soft emotionally, because it's "feminine", while women are discouraged from being independent and having a "hard shell" because it's "too masculine". Utilizing this in a headcanon about nests/dens is a good way to explore patriarchy and gender roles & expectations.
Anyway the only reason I actually made this post is because I see so many people call their dens "nests" when what they actually have is an obvious den. Please embrace it!! Dens are great!! Dens offer shelter and safety and create a more private space separate from your surroundings!! There's nothing wrong with building dens/burrowing, as opposed to nesting!! If you want the shelter/safety of a den, that's great!! You don't have to be an alpha to do that!! And also for the alphas- you are allowed to nest!!! It's not a weird thing!!! Nests are super cozy and comfy for a reason, AND you maintain a visual connection to your surroundings more easily if you feel like you need to stay alert/guard!!! Betas can have a nest! Betas can have a den! Betas can have both if they like, why are we forgetting about them when it comes to this anyway??? It's INDIVIDUAL preference.
Random addition I couldn't fit anywhere else: I personally tend to think that an alpha definition of a den can be a little more fluid than just "a tunnel/cavern dug into the ground/under an object". I mean, technically, a room is a den, too- covered at the top with a tunnel-like entrance (door) in and out. Personally I've never subscribed to "alphas have dens and omegas have nests" either way, I actually headcanon alphas especially being more concerned about perceived/claimed "territory" they see themselves as having claimed/being in charge of, such as being protective of their rooms/houses/living quarters etc, as well as lockers, assigned seats, cars, etc, while omega 'territory' protectiveness is more about privacy/safety/comfort, even though it also commonly includes one's own room (for omegas, more specifically, bedrooms) and similar things such as sofas, arm chairs, etc.
Another headcanon I have is that betas especially adore pillow/blanket forts and like building them both just for themselves, as well as big ones to share with the pack. I don't have any particular reasoning because I mean, who doesn't love a blanket fort? I just think it's kind of funny in an endearing way, and a neat idea.
94 notes
·
View notes
Text
019. Suffocate
♡ Pairing - Vash x Reader
♡ Word count - 0.8k
♡ Warnings - none
Part of the 150 Bullets drabble series on AO3
You’re never sure how it starts, but it ends the same each time.
Red blaring lights. A siren screeching overhead. People are frantic. Your mother is staring at the screen.
You’re up on the catwalk above the tank. It’s a walk you’ve done a million times. All you have to do is push the button, enter in the codes. But this time is different. The ground shakes, the building is sliced into ribbons around you. Your mother is half on the screen. The other half has been thrown across the room.
And then there’s the water.
Fluid. Whatever they want to call it. It’s not water, but what else could it be? You can’t remember the name. You just know the feel of it on your skin as you fall off the walkway and crash into it, the brush against the smooth Plant as it unfolds, the tendrils that extend and wrap around you and pull.
It pulls you in, and you thrash, you cry out, you beg and scream and scream. Fluid enters your lungs. The Plant’s bulbous blue eyes glow in the dim, red light filtering through its tank, its mouth moving. You can see teeth in there, sharp and ready and –
“______...!” It says. How does it know your name? “______! Mayfly!”
You kick and scream. Try to draw in breath. You’re suffocating. You can’t breathe!
Suddenly, there’s a shift in your vision. The Plant’s features meld into a man’s – blonde hair, eyes just as blue – and his moving mouth. His teeth are duller, his skin tan and freckled and not pale ice. Your mouth gapes and moves, but all you can get out is a ragged yelp as the man shakes you again.
“Mayfly, it’s okay, you’re dreaming,” he says. And slowly, the world starts to come back to you. The tank fades to the dark interior of the ship ruins you’d found to camp in. The only light is from the flashlight to the side, turned on in haste and thrown to the side. Your friend cups your face in his hands, desperately looking at you for something. What’s his name, what’s his name -?
Vash. It’s Vash. You croak his name, and he lets out a relieved sigh. “Yeah, see, it’s okay.” He pulls you close and holds you tight. “It’s okay. It was just a dream.”
You can still feel the ooze of the tank on your skin. It melts into sweat. The world tilts, trying to right itself after the vividness and terror. Your temples pulse with your heartbeat; you’ve got a headache. The fabric of Vash’s shirt drags on your fingertips as you hold on tightly. Minutes pass like this. Your quick breathing and barely-held-back sobs soon subside.
“’M sorry,” you mutter into his shirt. You aren’t, not really, but know it’s the right thing to say. There’s no telling what time of night it is without pulling out a watch. You feel him shake his head, and his skin is warm on your neck.
“Don’t apologize, it’s not something you can help.” He rubs a hand up and down your back. “Can’t tell you how many times I’ve had a nightmare wake me up.”
All you can do is sit there and let him soothe you. Your heart takes minutes more to stop beating so frantically. Every time you close your eyes, you see that Plant’s face, how it – she – looked so sickly, so desperate for…what? You shake your head and burrow into Vash’s shoulder. “’M sorry,” you say again, and you aren’t sure who it’s for.
Vash shushes you and pulls you closer. “Do you need to walk it off?” He asks. “That helps me sometimes.”
You tense. “No, I – “ The thought of moving around in an unfamiliar place in the dark pricks a primal part of your mind. You huddle closer to him. “Can I just…can you…?”
Without letting you go, he lays back, his sleeping bag brushing yours in the sand. You lay on his chest and wrap your arms around him the best you can. The off rhythm beat of his heart underneath lulls you gently. “That better?” he whispers.
You only nod.
Vash shifts a bit to get more comfortable. He never stops rubbing your back. You don’t think you can get back to sleep so easily, yet you are surprised to feel your eyes drooping closed. “Thank you,” you whisper. Vash hums. The last thing you feel is his lips pressing to the top of your head, and you’re out like a light again.
#trigun#vash the stampede#trigun stampede#tristamp#writing#self insert#reader insert#vash x reader#vash the stampede x reader#nova writes#trigun x reader#trigun fanfiction#150 bullets
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
Home sweet planetarium
(Rushed drawing by me)
Vox x masc!reader
Category: fluff
Word count: 504
Summary: You’ve been dating Vox for a few weeks. After getting cancelled on again you had enough and decided to bring the date over to Vox’s penthouse.
Warning: Light usage of cursing- it’s like one word, mentioned Valentino
The room was dark and chairs were set out perfectly to pull blankets over them. As you did just that, things were coming along. There was one more thing missing. Looking for a plug, you added the last perfect detail. A small star projector, making the interior of the blanket fort light up with stunning constellations.
To be honest you have had enough of Vox’s stressed and barely present attitude. If there was one thing you could do perfectly, it’s to prepare something nice and comforting. Something to ease the end of Vox’s long day. Soft cushions and blankets were layed out on the floor beneath the blanket roof.
(You were unsure if Vox had enough or even any comfortable bedding, so you brought your own stuff with you.)
Now adding the last few details you hear the elevator ding. Sudden excitement rises within you, wondering how your boyfriend would react. To be quite fair this is incredibly silly, but if Vox wanted something serious with you he had to deal with it.
“Uhh… what the fuck?” You could hear Vox’s voice echo through the room as he saw the odd fort. He couldn’t really make out why it was in his penthouse. All Vox could assume was that Valentino wanted to do something kinky.
You quickly crawled out of the tend and jumped up doing jazz hands. To Vox’s relief. “Surpriseeee~ I came over anyway- even tho you told me not to… yay?”
Vox just kinda stared at you and then back to the fort. He had no clue what this meant. Dating you has opened Vox to many things. One of them being silly and affectionate gestures for nothing materialistic in return. You caught onto that real quick walking up towards him.
“You’ve been working your ass off the entire week and I kinda missed you. I didn’t want to force you to do something that might exhaust you even more, so I thought why not make your home extra cozy?” You gently tucked your hand around his arm, pulling him with you towards the blanket fort. It did look ugly from the outside, you had to admit that.
Once Vox saw the interior of the blanket fort his heart melted a little. “Wow… this doesn’t look as shit as I expected.” He followed you into the tent, his gaze fixated on the stars. It was pretty odd to see something like that, especially coming from an adult.
“I know, I should’ve done this in your aquarium or something. How thoughtless of me…” You sigh out dramatically, dropping your chin onto his shoulder. The dramatic action more of a request of gratitude than genuine critique towards yourself.
Vox placed his clawed hand on your shoulder and lied back, pulling you down with him. The projected stars slowly and smoothly moving, earning Vox’s full visual attention. “This is quite nice actually… you shouldn’t have done something like that, you know?”
“Yeah, but I wanted to. Building blanket forts was one of my favourite things to do as a kid.” You shrug snuggling up to Vox.
A direct thank you would be too much to ask for, but his actions reflect his gratitude. You asked Vox about his childhood and that conversation turned into trauma bonding. Time seems to stop as Vox and you were just trapped in the (fake) starlight, eventually passing out into sleep.
A/n: Hello my beloved Vox simps and fanfic enjoyers! I hope you have enjoyed reading my sweet short fanfiction. I know that in the pole from yesterday smutt won, but I already finished this fluff fic yesterday and worked on the title drawing for it as well.
I’ll get working on the smutt fic next though! It might take a little longer cause I’m a little shy about it hehehe
Ps: Can we appreciate the little separators I made? It’s tiny Vox sending smooches :’)
#I FORGOT ABOUT THE TAGS#vox x reader#hazbin hotel#vox x oc#hazbin hotel oc#hazbin hotel vox#vox#gay shit#fluff#vox fanfiction#silly#adorable#blanket fort
39 notes
·
View notes
Text
universe abound
| ◆ ch.4 ⑊ welcome home.
⬙⤠ masterlist ⤝⬙
◇ a/n ◇ he's self aware! she's self aware! they're self aware! you're self aware! it's a self aware galore over here! woo! anyway, i am going to mostly use their archon name starting next chapter - e.g. "barbatos" / "morax" / "beelzebul". i was going back and forth between "beel" or "baal" but considering the reader's history and lore i feel that it's more fitting to use "beelzebul", so that's what i'm going with!
you don't remember falling asleep.
was it exhaustion? did you pass out on the sofa while working or watching tvs? or perhaps you did crawl into bed but you just don't remember doing so?
… yes, that must be it.
you sigh onto the pillow and bury your face against it even more. yes, you must have somehow climbed onto the bed, otherwise you wouldn't have been able to sleep so comfortably. in fact, the bed feels far too comfortable than what you're used to. and it smells very different too...
wait….
your eyes snap open and you push yourself into a sitting position, mind on full alert despite having just woken up. your suspicion is spot on, and you're unsure whether you should feel happy about your intuition or tremble in fear because you have no idea where you are.
it’s definitely not your house, that's for one. the walls and interiors are too different. you suspect it’s a different building altogether, and the nuance of the room suggests-
-huh?
this…
this layout looks…
... familiar.
isn't this a bedroom you made in your serenitea pot last time?
you examine the bed. you're not a hundred percent sure but this has to be the bed you chose. just that instead of a 3D model of a bed, you’re looking at a realistic version of it. perhaps this would be how genshin would look like if it was made for ps10.
that is if the ps10 allows you to touch and feel the objects in-game. which you can certainly do now, but you know the actual console doesn't have that capability.
the silken sheets are soft under your fingertips, and the flooring is surprisingly warm under your feet. you dash towards the mirror and see... yourself. with the clothes you remember changing into after showering. your look clashed so badly against the overall look of the room, and you groan, burying your face in your palms.
this has got to be a dream, right?
there's no way you just got isekai’d into the game, right??
the universe wouldn't play such cruel pranks just to spite you, right???
"also, are you kidding me?! if i got isekai’d i would've wanted to be reborn in a younger and better-looking body at least!!!"
your screams muffle against your palms as you curse the gods above - or whoever brought you here. you look up to glare and shout more at your reflection, but what you saw made you stop.
what the….?
humans are never perfect. you know of this and you’ve learned to fully accept this throughout the years. yet despite that, it's just natural for human beings to always strive for perfection and to unconsciously draw a ‘perfect’ version of themselves in their mind. from physical appearances down to traits, from jobs to materialistic properties, you too had a picture of what you see as ‘perfect’.
and your ‘perfect’ reflection is currently staring back at you through the mirror.
young-looking, supple skin, healthy hair, bright eyes, body draped in clothes that you’ve always wanted to wear when you were in your young adult stage but were never brave enough to.
you wave. the reflection mirrors the motion.
you smile. a lovely smile stretches the reflection’s lips.
you pinch your cheek. the reflection follows and frowns in pain.
is this how dogs who have just walked into a mirror room for the very first time feel?
"i... i’m lucid dreaming. that has got to be the explanation."
though you're the one who said those words, you can't seem to fully believe them either. since pinching your cheek didn't seem to work, you decide to try and slap it, just in case. all you get is a spike of sharp pain, leaving a tingling sensation on your right cheek.
frustrated, you throw a glare one last time at your reflection and settle into surveying the area instead. your eyes zero in on the door, and you weigh your options.
if this truly is your serenitea pot, then the companions you place on the main hall should be around outside, right? would it be safe to go outside, then? but what else can you do, stay cooped in the room while trying to fall asleep so you can wake up in the real world?
you used to read all those sagau imagines. if this has the whole impostor thing going on, then you might get hunted. but on the other hand, there's a possibility that you might get worshipped by those who used to be your favorite characters… that last possibility doesn't sound too bad...
wait, no. no, bad [name]. focus!
this might just be a dream, but what if it isn't? you’d rather completely avoid the dying route. no dying today, thank you.
yes, it's better to be overly cautious than regret it later.
steeling yourself, you slide the door open and peek outside. your view might be a little limited, but you don't see anyone, and everything is quiet, undisturbed.
huh. you’re pretty sure you placed a few characters in the main room… but perhaps your memory is failing you. it’s been a long time since you’ve been here after all.
upon opening the door wider, true to your observation, no one is standing by in the main room. you then tiptoed to check all the other rooms in the mansion, finding no one but a rush of nostalgia. you remember the hours you spent grinding wood and minerals and all the materials needed to get your mansion to look the way you wanted. and now, to be actually inside of it? it’s like a dream come true. you’ve always wished there was a way to upgrade the size of the quarters, but now that you're actually here, you're glad there was no such thing - it’s already far too vast for your poor legs.
a little excited, you open the front door and step out onto the front porch. tubby isn't there, but everything else looks just as you envisioned in your head. a beautiful garden, and even a pavilion with some-
-people....
oh. oh shit. oh gosh. oh fuck.
you freeze in fear when three pairs of eyes meet your gaze. in a snap of a finger, purple flashes in your eyes, and you yelp upon realizing that the lightning archon herself had kneeled in front of you.
"my liege! i can’t express how-"
"[name]!!!!"
a body crashes against you, followed by a pair of arms looping around you in a tight hug. a sweet smell dominates your senses and for some reason, the cecilia flowers pop into your mind despite the fact that you shouldn't have any knowledge on how those flowers smell.
"ah, what a nostalgic sight."
"hmph, such... obscene behavior, in front of the divine creator…"
"oh, but [name] loves me this way! free, unbound, and a teeny tiny bit obscene - isn't that right, [name]~?"
you stare at the three in succession.
zhongli looks just like how you saw him the last time you logged in, but without the pixels and polygons-based model, he’s a thousand - nay, a million - times more handsome. and his aura! imposing, ancient, regal... it nearly makes your knees buckle.
ei’s hair is braided, tied up into a bun instead of flowing freely behind her, secured with a kanzashi. her usual attire is replaced by an extravagant knee-length kimono, its fabric going from dark purple to the softest purple pastel, bearing the sigils of electro and inazuman patterns sewn meticulously onto it. she’s wearing her signature stockings underneath, with anklets decorating her slim ankles and a geta sandals on her foot - which were barely visible given her kneeling position previously, but now clearly seen as she stands to glare at the anemo archon.
barbatos seems to have altered his ‘venti’ form. though, in essence, their styles are still very similar. a lyre hangs faithfully on his side, coupled with interwoven twines with several charms hanging off it alongside his fake anemo vision. though his hat is missing, his hair is still braided on the front, longer than what you remember. there are crystalflies weaved into them, shimmering under the sun. he’s a little taller too, you notice, though maybe it’s also because of his new high-heeled boots.
you then realize that the three of them seem to be expecting you to talk. so naturally, like all other sane human beings in presence of three utterly hot and gorgeous deities, you stare back at them dumbly and reply:
"..... huh?"
"... eh? oops, did i came on too strong? ehe, i guess you're still a little shocked from the fall… but it’s all okay now!! you’re home!"
your brain slowly tries to reboot itself.
home? home….. home! wait, shit!
"my electricity bills! i need to go back home and turn off the lights!!" you say in realization and turn back towards the building, although the task proved difficult because one of them was still latching on to you.
venti notices you struggling and whines, tugging on your clothes as if he's five years old and not thousands year old ancient at this point, "wait wait wait, [name], look at us! look at me! why are you being so distant…?"
"your grace…"
you snap reflexively towards zhongli, eyes narrowed, "don’t call me that."
his draconic eyes widen and he bows his head in humility, "my apologies. then, what title pleases you?"
"title?? why would i need a-" you repeat incredulously, and you stop trying to pry the anemo god off you, falling into silence, realization dawning.
surely, no dream can be this real. you’re literally touching venti and talking with zhongli. they’re referring to you so formally and seem to be enamored with your very presence. you've tried to wake yourself up, to no avail. surely... surely this scenario is...
"did i create teyvat?"
zhongli tilts his head slightly, much like a puppy who just heard the most intriguing sound in its whole life, "why are you stating the obvious, your gra- ahem, i mean…. divine creator?"
oh.
oh god.
wait no, you're the supposed god here, aren't you.
"my liege," beelzebul places her hand on her chest, bowing elegantly with a smile, "i… we are truly glad you decided to answer our prayers. we beg you to have in your heart to forgive us, and let teyvat flourish once again. we will not fail you twice."
morax speaks next, "it is as baal says. though we might be all that's left of your closest acolytes, we’ll do our best to assist you with everything you could ever wish for. you need only ask, and we shall do our very best to provide. in exchange, we hope to receive your guidance."
"ehe, they’re always so formal, huh?" barbatos flashes you a grin but steps back nonetheless, a gentle expression overtaking his youthful face, "but i guess i should be proper once in a while. it is a special occasion afterall."
" " " welcome back, [name] - the sole master of celestia, divine creator of teyvat. " " "
© genshrineimpact | 2022 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated - it's the least you could do as a reader on tumblr. remember, likes do nothing on this website! feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!
#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#sagau#venti#barbatos#zhongli#morax#rex lapis#beelzebul#raiden ei#universe abound#rin writes
408 notes
·
View notes
Note
hello love! I feel so bad for sending more requests but your work is just too good!
so I know you write some things in your other work similar to this, but what are either talents or hobbies of tbb? so you write a lot about how echo loves to cook, do you have any ideas like that?
thank you to pieces if you choose to write this! 😘😘😘
Aloha, dear!
Hmm, I think I did a take on artistic hobbies, but not on hobbies in general yet. Let me see...
The Bad Batch HCs - Hobbies
____________
Hunter
Aside from his carving, Hunter enjoys spending time outdoors, fishing, camping. He is a survivalist, he can survive without problems in the wilderness, even without many tools, however, he prefers the more comfortable alternative of relaxed camping.
Going fishing in peace and quiet is a wonderful way to unwind and relieve his senses. Meanwhile, he actually succeeds in fishing more often, so the batch eats fish more often. Whenever he can, he retreats to the tranquility of nature.
Echo
His and Hunter's hobbies complement each other. Among other things, Echo has learned from Hunter how to collect mushrooms and herbs, distinguish them and where to find them. The fish Hunter catches, Echo likes to prepare in his cooking hobby.
Echo actually goes camping with Hunter from time to time to gather mushrooms and other ingredients. He also enjoys the peace and quiet now and then.
However, he is also very technically inclined and tinkers with Tech on various projects occasionally.
Wrecker
Aside from his well-known affinity for explosives and building them, Wrecker collects small souvenirs from each planet he visits. Small trinkets, sometimes pictures or snow globes. He has everything in his 'secret box'.
In wartime, he secretly made necklaces with droid fingers, though Hunter put a stop to that when he caught him at it. It was forbidden, and Hunter didn't want Wrecker to get into trouble for it.
He also tried his hand at cooking for a while, but his talent lies more in eating than in making food, so for the sake of poor, stressed Echo, he eventually gave up the attempt.
Tech
In addition to his hobby of tinkering with and inventing technical things, Tech naturally has other interests as well. He enjoys reading, non-fiction, but also fictional novels if the story is interesting enough. Tech never tires of expanding his knowledge and tickling his imagination.
Apart from that he likes to draw, mainly designs for shuttles, pod racers and interior cockpit design. He is very good at it and his drawings are practically all over the Marauder, which sometimes leads to little friction between him and Echo, as the latter tries to keep the ship at least somewhat tidy.
Crosshair
Parkour and mountain climbing are his passionate hobbies whenever he has the time. He is very skilled at it and it helps in his profession as a sniper to reach the most impossible places to have an overview and lie in wait.
Crosshair is the one who trained with Echo to navigate rough terrain with his prosthetics when he was fresh to the batch. Crosshair can climb most obstacles without climbing equipment, even with his rather heavy gear on. Climbing and parkour are not only a pastime, but also a good sport and an outlet for the Sniper.
He also likes to draw, especially creatures that fascinate him and beautiful landscapes, but this hobby is something he does rather alone and almost secretly.
Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)
@rintheemolion
@andyoufollowyourheart
@clone-whore-99
@brynhildrmimi
@kaliel2310
@misogirl828
@tech-deck
@meshla-madalene
@chxpsi
@thebahdbitch
@nahoney22
@ladykatakuri
@darkangel4121
@ttzamara
@arctrooper69
@padawancat97
@agenteliix
@allsystemsblue
@palliateclaws
@either-madness-or-brilliance
@ortizshinkaroff
@andy-solo1
@hunterssecretrecipe
@heyitsaloy
@greaser-wolf
@extrahotpixels
@hated-by-me
@hunterxcrosshair
@malicemercy
@bebopsworld
@echos-girlfriend
@taskfork-archive
@cpnt616
@starwarsnerd111
#hc#star wars headcanons#headcanon#tbb headcanons#hunter#wrecker#echo#crosshair#tech#tbb#tbb fanfiction#crosshair tbb#echo tbb#hunter tbb#star wars tbb#sw tbb#tbb crosshair#tbb echo#tbb hunter#tbb tech#tbb wrecker#wrecker tbb#bad batch#the bad batch#clone force 99#tech tbb#star wars#clonelove
126 notes
·
View notes
Text
Astrid Primrose
A quite person who doesn’t want to stand out.Some-people think he’s hiding something deep given his curse but others see him as friendly and helpful.
Personality :
quite, reserved, socially awkward,only show true self with people their comfortable with, won’t say if he’s hurt, more Genuine with people they are comfortable with, pretty simple , Gracious  
Twst : the enchanted rose 
Basic Info
Age: 17
He/they
Voice claim: Langa- Sk8 the infinity (eng and Jp)
Birthday: September 18
Height: 174cm
class: 2-C
Dorm: Diasomnia
Nickname: koi fish (Floyd) Monsieur rose enchantèe(Rook)
Dominant Hand: Right  
favorite food: different kinds of bread, salad chocolate,and melon
Hobbies/likes: chess, cross word puzzles, puzzles, origami , snow, birds, architecture, stargazing 
Dislikes: feeling trapped, moldy food, mold , dumpster diving
Club: Equestrian  
Hometown : Briar Valley  
Best subject: astrology
Talents: Completing puzzles quickly and reading maps
Unique magic/Curse : Beast of the guilty 
He has no control of the curse but it seems like if he touches or direct eye contact for long enough. A shadow looking beast will surround a person in vine staring them down making them relive something they deeply regret and it could last for a day or two after being let go basically tormenting them with guilt. Astrid curse that will later become his UM.
For the selfish and the lairs
You must not feel pity
Because soon they will meet
The beast of the guilty
More info
-Wants to travel the world when they hit 21
-thinking of becoming an architect 
- Astrid pretty goofy with people they are comfortable with and would do it with his resting expression having others if he’s serious 
- Doesn’t talk much about their home or family when they do some say there is a kinda unsettling feeling/ look in his eyes
-Swears the horses like messing with him
-Part Fae but didn’t know until Sebek said something ( Malleus and Lilia thought he knew about it)
- believes they’re unlovable
-played against Leona in chess during a school club event and impressed Leona so now they play against each other often (Astrid got adopted )
-Friends with Jamil (they don’t have a label on their relationship) They were in the same class in 1st year and would talk continue to talk. Would look Astrid in the eyes and miss the shot on purpose goofy stuff like that.
J-“what’s your obsession with bread?” A-“Bread was the only food that wasn’t stale or moldy that was given to me at the orphanage * goes back to eating bread*” J-*shocked*
-Managed to get Azul indebted to him with 2 favors and would always avoid his attempts saying “he doesn’t want anything from Azul” Azul can’t even blackmail since there isn’t much he can use besides basic info even then Astrid blocks the attempt.
-good at drawing manly buildings and interiors and has some sketchbooks filled of them
- Would carry Sliver back to the dorm if it’s late/ Sliver would sometimes fall asleep on them
-Sebek has never called Astrid human
Outfits
Backstory
Astrid lived in an poor orphanage in Briar valley until they were 10. During their time there others would stay away or bully him because of his curse thinking he did it on purpose causing them to run away.Astrid would dumpster diving for food, doing best to survive when he teacher found them.
Being taken in Astrid reside in the west wing of the place.Given a place to stay and food to eat he was very grateful for finally finding a family so he thought. Even though his teacher showed him love and kindness the rest of her family didn’t seem to like him and didn’t understand why.
At 14 is when he finally understood sneaking out of the west wing. Walking around coming across room where Teacher and her husband were talking about no other than their cruse.
The cures was supposed to be used against his teacher.Due to the selfishness and betraying her old friend.
One day you will come across a child who will be your downfall.
By the time the child turns 21 you will pass as they will obtain the magic you prioritize so dearly.
But if you put away your selfishness and welcome the child into your arms truly loving them you may live to see another day.
He never heard such a venomous tone from his teacher but didn’t hear anymore running back to his room heartbroken.
“That why teacher family doesn’t like me”
“Were those accident everyone trying to get rid of me”
“Teacher doesn’t even like me, My parents didn’t want, The staff ignores me, no one wants to be around me”
“All because of this stupid curse! The only reason I’m here is for someone’s revenge”
“I’m I really that unlovable?”
After that day Astrid started to pretend to reciprocate the “love”  their teacher gave them.Planning to leave at 20 which changed when he got excepted into NRC for when they graduate they’ll just never return home.
#twisted wonderland#art#twst#twst oc#twisted oc#twisted wonderland oc#oc art#oc#artists on tumblr#cheer!art#cheer!Astrid#oc lore#oc intro
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
"There's a tavern I go to sometimes that we could meet at, Leona. It's friendly to Rakkor regardless of their opinions on the Sun vs the Moon, so I think we could both be…comfortable there, given how things are. Let's meet five days from now at noon?"
---
Diana sat alone in Olivia's Alehouse in the Rakkor village of Astilla.
The room was bright and cheerful with large south facing windows that let in the sun but never shown too harsh amongst the early springtime rays. The white washed interior and dark wooden beams were softened inside by artwork and hanging tapestries woven and embellished with beautiful geometric patterns. A long stone bar accented the far wall and an eclectic mix of wooden benches, tables, and plush leather armchairs dotted the rest of the room, creating pockets of seclusion for conversations that could be either lively or intimate depending on the patrons preference.
The tavern served ale and wine, as well as hard liquors, but Diana sipped on a strong, floral tea that sported a spicy bite of marigold. She sat rigid and formal, a few papers spread on the table as she faced the door. It was important for her to set the meeting time and place for today, and even more important she be the first one to arrive.
In her mind it made sense to get there early because it would give her a better feeling of control and safety. But as she sat with her back to the wall on a third cup of tea and a jittery bundle of nerves crowding in her chest, perhaps giving too much time was a mistake.
The clock above the bar ticked by in an ugly dirge of monotony, but finally with five minutes to midday, the door swung open and in walked Leona.
—
So many times Diana had spent waiting on the golden girl of the Solari to enter the room.
Flashes of teenage rendezvouses filled her mind, and only unlocked the gates to more. Secret notes passed in class, meetings behind buildings and excursions together into the wilderness. Letters upon letters upon letters. Meadows and lakes and fields of flowers. Parties spent on each other's arms, pressed against each other, surrounded by the heat of expectation and for just those nights willing to throw off all its weight into the fire.
Mountains and darkness and starlight wonder. Everything held meaning. Everything mapped together. Drawings and paint and whispered words in the dark. Wandering hands and bodies intertwined in rhythms and motions deeper and closer than anything the other had felt before. Promises sealed with lips and destiny charted by passion that enthralled them so deeply, the lines of possession and freedom blurred resolute until neither one knew who's hand painted the strokes they believed were indelible.
—
But no art was ever permanent.
It had taken years for Diana to learn this lesson and truly believe it. That even with eternal life nothing was guaranteed to last. She had wandered across the globe for over ten years, chasing stories of aspects and the moon through all the continents of Runeterra. Learning histories of people flourishing then lost forever, forgotten even by those that once held them dearest.
Sharpening her blade and her wit along the way, always hardening her shell against the world. The moon gave her armor and weapons and Diana not only learned to wield them, but learned how to master herself and never be helpless again.
And when she returned to her homeland in Targon, she was ready to face all the disappointment of her past. Every flaw, every truth, but still when she stood on that soil it bothered her to learn nothing had changed. Leona had not changed. Not one bit.
But the longer Diana stayed, the more she learned that was not entirely true. Finally here, as the realized aspect of the moon, she finally found the Lunari and the people she could protect, and other things changed along the way as well. Old rivals became allies in people like Sebina. The Rakkor were not only made up of bigots and zealots like she thought. There were pockets of tolerance and in some places resistance. It seemed that even amongst the far reaches of the galaxy she'd plotted and known, the constellations could still surprise her. And eventually, even Leona returned to her orbit in a way Diana had only believed in her imagination.
—
It surprised even Diana how quickly things moved.
Reports of the Radiant Dawn visiting Lunari holy sites reached her ears amongst the conclave of the Moon worshipers and her only thought was rage. Had Leona fallen so far she was willing to commit desecration? Even towards her enemies? Such violent acts were abhorrent and vile behavior that would never justify any excuse worthy of absolution.
And so Diana closed down to the deepest part of herself and donned her lunar armor, swiping charcoal across her eyes with war paint the Moon had blessed her to wear. Every piece and weapon was like ice sliding into place, damping all prior feelings for the woman she once thought the world of as she prepared for combat.
And with this favor, Diana set out to rid the night of its oppression. Stalking Leona to a holy Lunari site Diana prowled and waited from the rafters, ready to strike at the first move of violence, but there was none. Leona was kneeling before an altar with her eyes closed. She looked like she was praying.
Leona was praying to the Moon.
—
The tavern door closed with a firm click as the cold draft of early spring was shut behind.
Diana straightened in her seat and curled her fingers around the ceramic cup of tea on the table. The nerves in her belly rose to her throat and she took a sip to quench them for a moment with the hot liquid as Leona removed her traveling cloak and hung it on a peg near the door.
Leona was dressed simply, no mark of Solari or the Radiant Dawn visible, her arms covered in loose fabric that hid the elaborate golden tattoos Diana knew ran up and down the surface of her skin.
Her thoughts filed down to a focal point around the woman across the room, but it wasn't a moment that lightened and freed her chest. No instead she felt herself stiffen with each breath feeling like it must push against cartilage that had calcified around her rib cage.
These nerves weren't butterflies of giddy excitement, even if it did share an echo reflecting off the same person. This was a business meeting. A follow up to a tentative armistice that had been reached, and one both parties knew was incredibly fragile.
Leona agreeing to come and abide by Diana's terms was unexpected enough without throwing any more nostalgia onto the flames.
"Hello Diana, I hope you haven't been waiting long."
Was it gauche to say twenty years? You would think Diana would have stopped counting by now, but maybe she was afraid she'd forget something important if she did.
"You're right on time, Leona."
---------
I wanted to do a little writing thing that was a break from the bigger project I'm working on with Leona's Sunforger's Holiday fic, and it turned into this.
This is not strictly official for my leodia verse, but it is playing around with ideas I have for them in the reconciliation era. Hope you enjoy the little sneak peek! Always love to know what anyone thinks, and thanks for reading!
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Day 28: “You’re Safe Now” (Twilight/Wolfie, Wild, & Four)
Ao3 link
Continuation of day 16
Cw for blood and injury
————————
Twilight picks up the scent relatively quickly.
It hasn’t grown old yet, and for that, he’s infinitely grateful. The more time goes by, the fainter it will become. And they don’t have time for him to try and trace barely-there wisps. Especially once they begin to intertwine with the countless other smells wafting along the road and through Castle Town.
Four doesn’t have time for that.
Still, it’s slower going than he’d like it to be. His arm—well, now that he’s a wolf again, his leg—is stiff and painful, almost entirely uncooperative. His body aches, every movement exacerbating wounds not yet healed, and his mind begs to be allowed to return to the blessed release of slumber.
Later. He tells himself as he limps forward, nose pressed stubbornly to the ground. Once you’ve found Four.
They follow the back roads of Castle Town, winding their way through the shadowy passages and past stalls packed with all sorts of goods. Shopkeepers call to Wild, beckoning him to peruse their wares; bottles of poe spirits and potions and miserable-looking fairies are shoved in their faces, along with promises of infinite health and stamina, or good luck; grubby, little children run past, holding up disconcerting masks and pestering them with questions and requests.
“Why don’t you buy this one, mister? It lets you stay awake for hours.”
“How about this one? Isn’t it cool? It makes animals follow you!”
“Why don’t you want them, mister? Why?”
“Well, no one here is gonna question your presence,” Wild says, sounding annoyed.
And he’s right, they don’t question his presence. But they don’t particularly enjoy it either. A low growl is all it takes to send them skittering away.
He’s immeasurably glad of that fact. The sights and smells and sounds all press down on him, amplified by his heightened senses. On a normal day they would be just on the edge of too much but combined with the pain and fear and exhaustion that hold him in a death grip, it’s almost unbearable.
Wild seems to pick up on his rising overwhelm, and places his hand on his back once more, his touch firm and comforting. Twilight pauses just long enough to give him a grateful nuzzle.
“Are we almost there?” The Champion murmurs when they turn yet another corner down yet another darkened side street.
Twilight stops and peers into the distance, watching the wafting trail of Four’s scent. If he squints, he can see it now—the spot where it veers off into a nearby building. An urgent sort of eagerness erupts within him. He rushes forward with an excited yelp, Wild close on his heels.
They come to a stop in front of a small, worn-looking house. Its windows are shuttered, its door bolted. Anywhere else it would look extremely suspicious, yet here it fits right in. If not for his tracking ability Twilight would have passed it up without hesitation.
Wild glances at him and he meets his gaze, a silent agreement passing between them. Then, the Champion draws his sword and kicks down the door.
The interior is dimly lit by a lantern set on a nearby table. It’s difficult to see much of anything not in its immediate vicinity. But Twilight can smell the heat, past the scent of whiskey and sweat and fear, past the curious scent he has come to know as Four’s—fresh grass and spring wind.
It emanates from the shadows, and he tenses, preparing for an attack.
They’ve only made it two steps into the room when it comes. Multiple people leap out, weapons are drawn and glinting in the dismal glow.
Wild brings his sword up and cuts one of them down with a swift stroke.
“Go!” He yells to Twilight as he fends off two more assailants. “Get Four!”
Twilight doesn’t have to be told twice.
He turns, squinting into the gloom, searching for the door he knows is there. It doesn’t take him long to locate it. Trotting over, he changes back to his Hylian form.
Transformation is even more painful than usual with the wounds he has sustained, but he grits his teeth and breathes through it. Blinking away the spots dancing before his eyes, he undoes the latch. With a low groan, he hefts the door up.
Stairs rise out of the darkness, and he wastes no time in limping down them.
If it was hard to see upstairs, it’s impossible in the cellar. Twilight can hardly make out a foot in front of him. Stumbling over what he thinks is a barrel, he grapples in his pouch for his lantern. It’s full of oil (and thank his lucky stars for that uncommon occurrence), and a simple flick of the switch is all it takes to turn it on. A familiar, welcoming glow surrounds him and drifts outward in sharp lines of dark and light.
Twilight turns, peering around the space. The light catches on the bars of the cage, splotched with his blood, and the jars that had clued the smithy in to their location. But the small form he’s looking for is nowhere to be seen.
The fear within him multiplies, tying his stomach in knots, sending his heart up into his throat. For all he knows they could’ve moved Four.
…or thrown him in a trash pile somewhere.
He gives his head a rough shake. Four’s scent had only gone in one direction. He has to be here…and he has to be alive.
Slowly, he begins walking forward, searching more thoroughly. Seeing this place, knowing what happened here, only worsens his discomfort. Memories resurface, fresh and painful, of watching his friend be torn apart, of being torn apart himself.
Twilight takes a deep breath, blows it out, wincing a bit as the movement excites his wounds once more. Too often he forgets that in his alternate form, he is, to all the world, a wild animal. So, to be treated as such, and in the cruelest way possible makes his skin crawl.
But…he’d lost control, acted the part to a severity he never has before. He can still taste the blood of his attackers, still feel their delicate skin breaking beneath his fangs.
And what good had it done in the end? He was still injured. Four was still…Four was–
The light shines on something small and slim and decidedly human, tucked away in a far corner, and Twilight comes tumbling out of his unpleasant ruminations. He practically throws himself forward.
“Four?”
It’s him, lying motionless in a pool of his own blood.
With shaking hands, Twilight sets the lantern on the ground, then reaches out for the smithy. It takes everything within him to keep his movements slow and careful, when everything within him is screaming to hurry, hurry, before it’s too late.
Given the sheer amount of blood on the ground, it might still be.
Four is virtually weightless in his arms, and Twilight cradles his slight form as he did Colin when he was very young.
“Smithy?” he murmurs, brushing Four’s hair out of his face.
It’s damp with sweat and bile and blood, and the same is all over his body, seeping into his clothes, coating his flesh, marring the leather of his boots. And he’s pale, so terribly pale, more so than Twilight has ever seen him before. The sight makes him ill.
“It’s alright, now,” he says, ignoring the tremble in his voice, in every part of his body, as he frees one of his arms to rifle through his pouch. “You’re safe. I’ve got a fairy here. She’ll heal you.”
Again, there’s no response, not even a ragged exhale. In fact, it doesn’t seem like Four is breathing at all.
Trying to squash the desperate panic rising within him, Twilight pulls out the bottle. The fairy’s pinkish light illuminates Four’s face, making him appear almost translucent. A quick twist of the bottle top and the fairy flies free.
She zips toward the smithy, then circles around him in four tight circles. Then, she disappears, gone as quickly as she came. Twilight leans forward.
A moment passes, two, and nothing happens. Four remains just as still and silent as before.
Tears flood Twilight’s eyes. A blink is all it takes to send them tumbling down his cheeks.
“Come on, Four,” he chokes. “I know you’re still in there, I know you’re still fightin’. Come on.”
Wake up. Please, wake up.
Still, no reply comes. Still, his chest doesn’t rise.
Twilight tips forward, resting his head against the smithy’s as the sobs come, sobs of exhaustion and pain, of hopelessness and guilt. They tear at his throat, send shivers through his abused body.
There’s nothing he can do now, nothing. A potion does a dead man little good. Hyrule is too far away to reach, and besides, his spells can’t bring back those who are already long gone.
“Rancher?”
Wild’s voice reaches him from behind, and his footsteps follow. He lacks the strength to turn to him.
“Is he…”
Slowly, Twilight nods.
“No!” Wild comes to a stop beside him, anger radiating off him in waves. “No, he can’t be dead! There’s got to be something we can do.”
“We were too late, Wild,” he manages through the tears still pouring out, clogging his throat, choking him. “We were too late.”
“No. There’s gotta be–Here! Take this!”
A bottle comes into view inches from his face, a delicate fairy circling inside it. Twilight raises his eyes to Wild’s.
“Cub, I already…”
Wild’s expression is one of stubborn determination, immovable as Hyrule Castle itself.
“I know. Try it again!”
For a moment Twilight stares dully, watching as the fairy floats like a flower petal on a lazy stream. Then, he nods and pops the top.
The fairy performs the same dance as the previous, then fades into thin air. And with a heavy heart, Twilight watches and waits.
It’s hardly a twitch at first, the slightest raising of the eyelids. The barest signs of life, so small Twilight hardly comprehends that they’re there. But they rapidly turn into something more.
Four’s chest rises, as he draws a thin gasp through pale, chapped lips. Slowly, he shifts, a small groaning breaking free. Color blossoms into his cheeks, the barest kiss of pink.
Relief and joy and dizzying disbelief erupt within Twilight, taking his breath away. He chokes on a half sob, as Wild drops to his knees beside him, a tearful grin spread across his face.
“Smithy, you’re alive!”
“Twi-twilight? Wild?” His voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper, but Twilight hears it as easily as he heard his screams of agony. His eyes flutter open, a kaleidoscope of colors swirling within them. “Is-is it…”
“We’re here, Four,” Twilight whispers past the tightness in his throat. “It’s over.”
Four blinks, slowly, gaze roaming the room. “And-and you…you’re, okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”
He draws the smithy closer, feeling his warmth, convincing himself that he’s alive, really, truly alive. But Four’s eyes are beginning to drift closed again, and he knows it’s time to move. They can’t sit here forever, in the dark, kneeling by the evidence of what they’ve endured. Now, it’s time to return to camp, reunite with the others.
Now, it’s time to heal.
“Here.” Wild reaches out and gently lifts Four from his arms. “I’ll carry him. You just focus on staying upright.” He skewers him with a glare. “You’ve done too much already.”
Twilight rises, shakily, offering Wild a small grin. “Thanks, cub.”
The Champion shrugs. “It’s no big deal. Four’s tiny.”
“No, not just that.” Twilight catches his gaze and holds it. “Thanks for everything.”
Comprehension dawns across Wild’s face. He smiles and sets a hand on Twilight’s shoulder.
“Come on, rancher. Let’s get you two back to camp.”
He turns and starts up the stairs, up away from the stench of death and destruction, up out of the darkness. And without another backward glance, Twilight follows.
#febuwhump2023#febuwhumpday28#blood and injury#linkeduniverse#lu twilight#lu wolfie#lu four#lu wild#trin writes
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐏𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎 | vento aureo; r. nero ending.
✦.⁺ checkered tables.
table of contents
pairing : vento aureo x gn reader
summary : a college student tries getting the attention of some of the most admired and attractive people on campus, only to get caught up with stands and vigilante groups in the process.
notes : modern au, multi-chapter fic, sfw, doesn’t follow canon plot
word count : 2.5k+
═ ☆. AFTER FIVE MINUTES, Y/N BEGAN to think they'd been stood up. It wasn't that big of a deal considering they were still in the front lobby of the dorm and heading back to their room would've taken five minutes. It was just that (y/n) hadn't pegged him as the type to make plans and then bounce.
He had said that the next time they ate together would just be the two of them. That had been accompanied with some dumb excuse about his friends being damn annoying.
They sighed soundlessly down at their shoes, turning to take the elevator. A minute later, they let out an ungodly screech as something tugged at their arm.
"You son of a bitch," (y/n) muttered, smiling sheepishly at the startled glances and eyebrows cast their way. They pinched at the seemingly empty space beside them, grimly satisfied when they heard a hiss of pain.
"I'd say I'm sorry, but that would be lying."
(Y/n) squinted. They could barely see the outline of his body, made invisible by the particles of iron.
"You've been practicing, haven't you?"
In response, Risotto took their hand and led them out of the dorms. Infuriatingly, he didn't allow himself to come back into view until a couple of blocks later, where the street was quieter. (Y/n) knew they looked ridiculous being led by an invisible arm. Maybe that was Risotto's plan.
Risotto was wearing grey jeans and white canvas shoes. An open short sleeve button up bared a close-fitting tee and the silver chain at his throat. (Y/n) found themselves getting distracted by his well-built chest and forearms.
God, his forearms.
Risotto had the grace not to comment on (y/n)'s staring. Their hands still linked, he led them down a section of Naples they'd never been to before.
The restaurant was simple, seeming not to want to draw attention to itself or seem more important than it was. It was tucked among other family-run businesses and buildings lovingly weathered by people and the elements. The seating area was lit by soft fairy lights strung over the outdoor rafters and the glow of the restaurant's interior. A checkered red-and-white tablecloth patterned all of the outdoor tables, blending in with the dark wood of the chairs and centrepieces. The trimmed hedges and curling vines wrapped along the wooden beams made (y/n) feel like they were at a garden party, lulled by the scent of growing things and sweet air. Laughter and muted chatter floated up to the evening sky, a comforting ambience.
The owner of the restaurant was a small, bearded man with deep laugh lines and a round belly. He surprised (y/n) by sweeping Risotto into a bear hug, lifting his feet clear off the ground. The tips of Risotto's ears turned adorably red, but (y/n) didn't have time to tease before they were being squeezed into a hug too.
"Oh, sorry about that, sweetheart. I probably should've asked first," the man said, seeing (y/n)'s flustered expression.
They laughed lightly. "It's fine, signore. It's lovely to meet you."
Risotto readjusted his beanie gone askew. "(Y/n), this is my uncle. Zio, this is my friend, (y/n)."
They might have been imagining the slight emphasis Risotto put on the word "friend". Risotto's uncle didn't take the hint, pushing the two of them to the outdoor dining area. As was customary of adults in the presence of what they thought was "young love", there was plenty of eyebrow-wiggling and meaningful looks.
Risotto's mortification was hilarious. (Y/n) wished he would bring them here all the time.
Risotto's uncle did the honours of serving their meal himself. He made (y/n) laugh with his relentless teasing, only backing away with his hands up when Risotto threatened to leave.
"Aw, don't make your uncle leave," (y/n) said.
"He's insufferable," Risotto said, but he smiled.
"You mean he's an amazing cook." (Y/n) had to close their eyes to savour the pasta. Perfectly al dente, with a meaty sauce that exploded with rich spices.
"That's probably why he has a new lady friend every week when he looks like a troll."
"I heard that!" his uncle called from inside.
"This is nice," (y/n) said, with a smile in Risotto's uncle's direction. "I didn't think you'd bring me to a place like this."
Risotto's eyebrow twitched. He hadn't missed the sardonic note in (y/n)'s voice.
"Where did you think I was bringing you?"
(Y/n) took a sip of their water. It was fragrant, sweetened by the lemons, strawberries and mint leaves (y/n) had seen soaking in the pitcher. They shrugged, smirking a little under the glass. It was just that this little restaurant was uncharacteristically romantic for Risotto.
Here in the cheery atmosphere of his uncle's restaurant, Risotto was like a different person. Less angry and intense. It was crazy how different his red-black eyes looked when they were pulled up in a smile or creased with laughter.
(Y/n) didn't think they'd heard him laugh before. At least, not a laugh that wasn't cynical or mocking. He happened to a silent laugher, the bastard.
"Tell me how you first found your Stand's ability," (y/n) said.
It must have been the wrong thing to say. Risotto's good mood instantly dampened.
"It's ... it's not a story that will make you laugh, if that's what you were thinking."
"Tell me anyway," (y/n) said, growing serious.
Risotto fiddled with his fork. (Y/n) kept their gaze on him, realizing that they knew very little about Risotto aside from what he outwardly displayed on campus.
"My cousin was killed in a car accident a few months ago," he said. His voice was hushed, more to his plate than to (y/n).
The words pulled painfully on (y/n)'s chest. "I'm sorry," they said.
Risotto's words carried themselves in a sigh. "It was a drunk driver. My cousin was crossing the street when a truck barrelled him down. He died before he got to the hospital."
(Y/n) clenched their jaw. A death like that was stupid and could have prevented. It made them angry, and it obviously upset Risotto as well.
"They found the driver guilty," he continued. "Sentenced him to a few years in prison. That should've been enough, but..." His brow tightened.
"I remember watching him leave the courtroom. I was just so ... so ... I couldn't stand the sight of him. What did a few years in jail mean when he was still alive but my cousin wasn't? I kept wanting something else to happen to him. For him to pay somehow."
Risotto's hand went absently to his throat. "The thing with the razor blades. That's pretty new. When Metallica first appeared, the driver sprouted needles. They came up out of his skin, piercing through it. I didn't know it was me. I just stood there, slack-jawed as everyone else. I think that if I hadn't hesitated ... he would've died." The words came out as though Risotto had just come to the realization. He met (y/n)'s eyes. They said nothing. The weight of this memory settled upon the two of them, dark and heavy.
(Y/n) reached for his hand.
"What was your cousin like?"
"A complete asshole," Risotto answered without hesitation. The corners of his mouth turned up. "He was like a brother to me. He would say the stupidest shit, but somehow, he kept it real. He always said things the way they were. You could always trust him to lay it straight. I was kind of a hard-ass as a kid. I wouldn't have made any friends in the neighbourhood if it weren't for my cousin."
"Just when you were a kid?" (y/n) said with a quirked eyebrow.
"You know what I mean." Risotto's smile wavered at the edges. "I'll think about him at the randomest times. Something funny will happen or his favourite soccer team wins a game, and I'll find myself picking up my phone to talk to him. I wanted to tell him about you, when we first met."
"You mean, when you nearly slit my throat."
"For the last time, your throat is fine. I would never have hurt you."
"Sure, sure."
(Y/n) smiled at the memory. They'd thought Risotto was some street thug planning to kidnap them, with his red-black eyes and dressed all in black. If he tried something like that now, (y/n) probably would've knocked him flat with White Satin.
"What would you have told him?" (y/n) asked gently.
Risotto thought for a moment.
"Probably that you were a smartass who was going to get themself killed."
"Oh, but you still think that, don't you?"
"Maybe. Things are going to calm down now that Signor D's out of the picture. We'll just be dealing with regular douchebags and criminals. They'll be hard-pressed to do anything against your Stand."
White Satin. Since being discharged from the hospital, (y/n) hadn't tried to summon it. A part of them knew that they weren't quite ready yet, that their Stand wouldn't form completely. They weren't quite sure when or even if their Stand would ever be the same.
"How is your Stand?" Risotto asked.
"Not the same," said (y/n) honestly. "Maybe it's because I'm still recovering, but it's not even close to where it used to be." It wasn't as though the glimmering strands were gone for good, but (y/n) still missed seeing them, missed winding them idly around their fingers.
They missed their Stand hammock. And floating on it like a magic carpet. They hadn't had the chance to show anyone else that trick yet.
"It'll still be there," said Risotto, watching (y/n)'s face. "From what I can tell, your Stand is for life. It won't fade or anything like that."
His expression wasn't quite gentle, but it was softer than any other expression they'd seen him make before.
"Can I get you two dessert?" Risotto's uncle's deep voice floated over to their table.
Risotto straightened in his seat. "Zio, what time is it?"
"Uh, close to nine, Ris."
Risotto swore under his breath. He took out his wallet and pulled out a few banknotes to quickly to pay before gesturing for (y/n) to follow him back out on the street. (Y/n) followed him, confused, waving goodbye to his uncle.
"What's got you in a hurry?"
"You'll see when we get there."
The streetlights came on then, and Risotto led (y/n) through the pools of golden light. Naples was winding down for the day, shutters drawing closed and door locks clicking. The cars dwindled on the street, late-evening workers coming home to their families.
Looking around, (y/n) thought the street they were on seemed vaguely familiar. They couldn't be sure, though, with all of the shops closing.
Risotto stopped under an awning.
"Wait here," he told (y/n), slipping inside the store. (Y/n) stared at printed words on the glass boasting instant cashbacks. There was a whole lot of clutter displayed, wooden toys and wrought-iron statues and wide-eyed dolls. They could see a multitude of more items still being hung up on the wall behind the front counter. They looked ready to fall at a moment's notice.
What was it about this storefront that was nagging at them?
They stepped back a few steps, craning their neck to get a look at the store's name.
It wasn't a store. It was a pawnshop.
Now (y/n) was even more confused. Why the hell would Risotto go back here?
They waited for a few minutes outside, tempted to go in and see what Risotto was up to. When he finally reappeared, the smile on his face was scheming and vaguely self-satisfied.
(Y/n) looked him up and down. "What were you doing in there?" they asked suspiciously.
The lights in the pawnshop flicked off, leaving only the streetlights to illuminate the two of them under the awning. The side of Risotto's face was softly coloured, highlighting the line of his jaw and the curve of his cheekbones and brow. The hair that peeked out from underneath his beanie glowed a little, curling in wisps. If (y/n) were an artist, this was the exact moment they would have liked to capture.
"Risotto?"
"You remember that old man we thought owned this pawnshop at first?"
"Of course. He turned out to be an operative for Signor D, right?"
"Not quite. I've been back to this pawnshop a few times. Turns out that guy is a regular. He absolutely loves this place, so he decided to come in and run it while the owners were gone."
(Y/n) made a face. "That's not creepy at all."
"Yeah, can't say everything's alright upstairs."
(Y/n) smiled a little. "Where are you going with this?"
Risotto drew out a small box from his pocket. It was impossible to mistake it for anything else.
(Y/n)'s pulse thudded in their ears. They went very still.
A slim ring caught the light when he opened the box. It was faceted like a diamond, polished to a high shine.
(Y/n) tried to think up a snarky quip. Their brain decided to empty itself at that very moment.
"It goes on your pinky finger," Risotto said, with a wryness that suggested he'd known what (y/n) had been thinking. He picked the ring out of the box, waiting until (y/n) extended their hand to slip it onto their little finger. The ring was cool against their skin, a comforting weight.
"The old guy mentioned antique rings the first time we came here. The lady inside talked my ear off about all the previous owners of this ring and their good fortune and whatnot." Risotto rolled his eyes. "It seemed like something you would like. Which isn't to say you have to. It's not fun the first few days out of the hospital, so I wanted to do something nice, that's all."
"It is something I'd like," (y/n) said, turning their hand over to admire the ring. They let out a chuckle. "You had me in the first half, you know. I thought you were going to kneel and say something stupid."
"Would that have insulted you?"
"Of course it would have. We don't know each other all that well, you know."
Risotto shrugged. "We have time. That'll change."
The simple assurance in his voice made (y/n)'s heart skip a beat. In typical Risotto fashion, he turned away without saying anything else, heading back toward campus.
(Y/n) wondered why their little finger was tingling. Maybe it was just in their head.
But then the sensation grew stronger, and (y/n) gasped when the ring seemed to pull their hand through the air—
—right into Risotto's.
"You bastard!" (y/n) said laughingly. "This ring is made out of iron, isn't it?"
Risotto squeezed their hand tightly in response.
table of contents
#pseuminova#jjba#jjba x reader#jjba fanfic#vento aureo#vento aureo x reader#golden wind#golden wind x reader#gender neutral reader#modern au
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
EXHIBITION
DRAWING / PAINTING / CERAMICS / PRINTMAKING
Museum of Contemporary Art
Sydney, Australia.
Things I connect with…
A visit to the MCA today. Various exhibitions. I connected most to the works featured in the photos above, including the work by Nicholas Smith, Decorators Touch, 2023. The disparate parts, the play of interior / exterior, dirty / clean, heavy / light, hard / soft, big / small. It had real moments to latch on to, like the little postcard sized collage works masking taped to the artwork in various places, breaking up large areas of colour, that were hand painted or sewn. The work must be about domesticity, and possibly the intimacy, and comfort experienced in this setting. The two organic ceramic works could represent figures, possibly people put on self-made pedestals, like a D.I.Y. Bunnings weekend project, and the other even an interior scene of a moment of intimacy on a mattress, this feeling heightened by the makeshift lovingly quilted walls hanging from the ceiling. To me, the work could be a metaphor for falling in love too quick, rushing into a domestic relationship without first setting up a solid foundation to build upon, rushing to build something quickly with someone without getting to know them properly, but based entirely on how great you think they are. The artist should be commended for making an inviting space filled with curious objects that only get more interesting upon closer inspection. For me, it was one of the only works across the many works viewed today, that didn’t fall apart the closer I physically got. I couldn’t get close enough. I wanted to touch it.
FROM THE MCA WEBSITE:
MCA Collection: Eight Artists.
Responding to notions of seriality, repetition and return. Featuring singular pieces by Sally Gabori, Raelene Kerinauia Lampuwatu, Emily Kame Kngwarreye, Naminapu Maymuru-White, Esme Timbery Judith Wright and Gulumbu Yunupiŋu, and Sandra Selig. They include dynamic depictions of significant cultural stories and practices, deeply personal kinship relations, matrilineal lineages as well as compelling relationships to the body.
MCA Curator, Manya Sellers
+
The National 4: Australian Art Now
Featuring new commissions and recent works by an intergenerational and culturally diverse group of artists and collectives, The National 4: Australian Art Now reflects how artists are responding to some of the most urgent and critical ideas of our times, imagining new ways of seeing and being in the world at a time of unprecedented change. Reflecting the latest evolutions in contemporary art, the exhibition includes works in diverse media including painting, photography, film, video, sculpture, installation, drawing, sound and performance, encompassing a range of experimental, process-based and socially engaged practices.
Hoda Afshar (VIC) Daniel Boyd (NSW) Eugene Carchesio (QLD) Allison Chhorn (SA) Léuli Eshrāghi (NT/QLD/Canada) Ivi (QLD/Aotearoa/Tonga) Diena Georgetti (VIC) Simryn Gill (NSW/Malaysia) Jilamara Arts and Crafts Association (NT) Mia Salsjö (VIC) Kieren Seymour (VIC) Nicholas Smith (VIC/USA) Isabelle Sully (The Netherlands/VIC) Amanda Williams (NSW) Rudi Williams (VIC)
MCA Curator Jane Devery.
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
"... are you okay?"
| | | @yuzustwin | | | ᴜɴᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛᴇᴅ: ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛɪɴɢ !
Rain would patter against the window, overcast clouding any shred of light from the daytime sky to permeate the room he would sit. Shinigami sat upon floor, back leaning against comforter of bed. Smartphone glow illuminating visage as he scrolled aimlessly, said light being the only shred of life within the dark, barren room. Cold hazel drew upwards after awhile, finding comfort in staring into the emptiness, the reverberating of the glass upon contact of droplets simultaneously calming, but also sinking boy lower and lower. Digits sagged, slowly falling to side as device fell from grip onto the floor with a clatter. Gaze never faltered from where it landed, upon the closet that sit front. It remained empty, except for a few drawings that’d been taped upon the interior.
He didn’t open it anymore.
It had been fifteen months since losing his powers. Former Substitute was struggling every single day, even just to get up in the morning. This deep depression he’d slipped into wasn’t going away, and black sun knew it was only getting worse. With more responsibilities than ever in his human life, Ichigo pushed forward best he could. It was days like these ... cold, rainy days that plagued him the most. He could feel it ... his inner world, drowning more and more in the torrential down poor that covered every second, every thought, every moment. He hadn’t been this bad since ... mom died. The thought alone pulling him lower, physically sinking lower against bed. It was all so --
Creek ...
Bedroom door slowly crept open, alerting hazel as they darted to greet intruder. Danger sense calmed at the sight of his beloved sister, lowering once again, making sure not to make contact with their own. She slipped past the entrance, letting bright hallway light shine upon dreary boy. Sunlight tress losing its luster, hazel cold and distant, phone strewn aside without a care ... it was clear to her he’d been sitting in the dark, quietly at that. That was ... concerning. Karin walked further into the room, and without warning, plopped themself directly next to former Substitute, doing so without the exaggerated huffing and puffing. After a moment, she turned and spoke ...
... Are you okay ?
Three simple words. That’s all it ever takes, right ? Three simple words and every and all foundations, the very walls you build, come undone and fall to the floor, exposing your most vulnerable, softest state to the world at large. It was scary to walk around without that defense, without something to deflect, not to bother anyone with your problems ... at least that’s what Ichigo had done for as long as he could remember ...
Hazel blew wide, trailing slowly to meet dark hue, anguish sinking in at the state of her. Karin was balled up, holding knees to visage, optics on the verge of tears. It broke him ... to see her, his ever strong, ever confident sister ... breaking down over his well being. Digits clenched at pant legs, ivory grinding, tears beginning to pool upon hazel hue. At this notion, they would dart away, facing wood panel as tears began dripping down visage.
❝ No ... I’m not. ❞
#♚ ASK: Ｓｔｒａｎｇｅ． Ｔｈｅ Ｐｏｗｅｒ Ｏｆ Ａ Ｑｕｅｓｔｉｏｎ．#yuzustwin#ESMEEEEEEEEE#why did you do this to me.#WHY.#i'm so fucking Upset now :(((((#of course he only breaks down for his sister ...
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
// The deeper I dive into Silent Hill, the more I realize that Piper’s experience in it as a verse would be fucking terrifying. Gonna stick this here until I can get around to actually writing it up as a separate verse for her later on.
// I’m thinking that Piper ends up in Silent Hill during her world trip with Holly. They end up having to separate for one reason or another and Pip just tells Holly to go on ahead to their destination and she’ll meet her there in a few hours. The setback ends up taking longer than expected and she ends up pulling over to spend the night in Silent Hill because she’s too tired. Big mistake.
// Pip’s entire experience in Silent Hill would be one where every time she sets foot indoors, the interiors of buildings look like her old home and every time she steps outside, the outdoors just look like Rook. Her mind would constantly be drawing connections to the fact that life before Rook and life on Rook were two sides of the same coin. There would constant allusions to dominating, violent authorities figures in her life in the form of large, predatory-looking monsters that move so slowly to chase her and attack so brutally to represent how the threats in her life weren’t always active but were always there and felt inevitable. She’d constantly feel tired and sluggish and unmotivated; representing her depression and how she constantly felt overwhelmed. Every noise would be extremely loud, representing her anxiety and developed hypervigilance. Deadend hallways would be prevalent highlighting how it always felt like there was no escape or she was going nowhere in life.
// Injured rabbit imagery and bloodied aggressive badger imagery would be recurring things representing her struggle between the scared prey instincts and the constant anger and feelings of resentment brewing inside her. The nurses would be another motif, both to represent her sexual frustration from being forced to forgo any sort of intimate relationship due to parenting her siblings and from having to hold back because of the risk it posed on Rook- but also because of the medical trauma she endured. Going hand in hand with that would be consistent images of swimming pools, rain, and oceans of blood representing her darkest moment during that trauma and the fear she had of choking to death on her own blood. Alcoholism in the form of broken bottle weapons or just general broken bottles would be prevalent. Burned monsters and monsters with parts of cages or chains wrapped around parts of themselves/wearing pirate or privateer uniforms would be another threat representing her guilt at having compromised her morality for money on Rook. Baby and kids stuff would be EVERYWHERE, some of it destroyed, highlighting how no matter how far she went, she could never escape the burden of parenthood and the fact that she was responsible for the well being of so many kids- and how she resented that fact and how it manifested in her resenting her siblings too at some point- and the guilt she felt for that resentment because she knew it wasn’t there fault. Empty graves for absent parents, random hot surfaces representing how there was never a true feeling of safety or comfort.
// There would just be a lot of heavy shit going on with her Silent Hill experience tbh.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Shaping Spaces with Light: The Crucial Role of Lighting Design
Lighting design transcends mere illumination to become an essential element of both architectural and interior design, shaping and defining spaces while enhancing functionality and aesthetic appeal. This strategic integration of light within spaces can transform environments, influence moods, and elevate experiences. Here we will explore the indispensable role of lightingdesign in Lowes Island in contemporary spaces, focusing on its capacity to enhance architectural details, improve functionality and safety, influence mood and atmosphere, and contribute to energy efficiency and sustainability.
Highlighting Architectural Beauty
One of the primary functions of lighting design in Lowes Island is to accentuate the architectural beauty and features of a space. Through carefully selected fixtures and strategic placement, lighting can draw attention to textures, colors, and structural details, adding depth and dimension. This not only showcases the architectural intent but also creates a visually engaging environment that highlights the unique characteristics of a space. Whether it’s illuminating a grand facade or casting light to reveal the intricate details of interior design, lighting design plays a pivotal role in bringing architectural visions to life.
Enhancing Functionality and Safety
Beyond aesthetics, lighting design is crucial in enhancing the functionality and safety of spaces. Well-designed lighting ensures that areas are adequately lit for their intended use, whether it’s task lighting in a kitchen, ambient lighting in a living room, or focused lighting in a workspace. Proper lighting design also addresses safety by illuminating pathways, stairs, and entrances, reducing the risk of accidents and ensuring safe navigation through spaces. By considering the functional needs of a space, lighting design contributes to a comfortable and secure environment.
Influencing Mood and Atmosphere
Lighting design has a profound impact on the mood and atmosphere of a space. The intensity, color, and direction of light can evoke feelings of warmth, tranquility, or dynamism, affecting the overall experience of the occupants. Through the use of dimming, color temperature adjustments, and creative lighting solutions, designers can create environments that support well-being, productivity, or relaxation. This ability to manipulate mood and atmosphere underscores the importance of lighting design in creating spaces that resonate with the emotional and psychological needs of users.
Contributing to Energy Efficiency and Sustainability
In today’s environmentally conscious world, lighting design also plays a significant role in promoting energy efficiency and sustainability. By selecting energy-efficient fixtures, incorporating natural light, and employing smart lighting controls, designers can significantly reduce energy consumption and minimize the environmental impact of lighting. This not only lowers operational costs but also supports broader sustainability goals, making lighting design a key component in the pursuit of green building certifications and eco-friendly living.
Conclusion
Lighting design is a fundamental component of modern design, offering far-reaching benefits that extend beyond simple illumination. By enhancing architectural details, improving functionality and safety, influencing mood and atmosphere, and contributing to energy efficiency, lighting design plays a crucial role in shaping the experiences and interactions of spaces. Whether for residential, commercial, or public environments, effective lighting design is indispensable in creating spaces that are visually appealing, functional, and sustainable, reflecting the evolving needs and values of contemporary society.
Visit our website https://www.loudounlighting.com/ to get more details about our company. Call us at (571)543-4077 to get more details.
0 notes
Text
Unique Interior & Renovation: The Best Office Interior Renovation in Ghaziabad
Unique Interior & Renovation: The Best Office Interior Renovation in Ghaziabad
Interior Designers in Ghaziabad
You can avail attractive and elegant interior design services from our interior designers wherever you are, be it your home, office or other business venture. They get a very beautiful interior design and also know how to implement it in a way that attracts a lot of viewers, seeing that the interior design actually offers a luxurious look.
Such as modern, western, and traditional interior design, aim to create beauty, elegance, and beauty in your interior design home. This creative thinking process is reflected in the interior design.
Unique Interior & Renovation Designers in Ghaziabad
Work related to any type of residential or commercial interior design. Decorate your interior properly with functional interior design and give an attractive look to your interior design. Provided by interior designers, the only aim is to completely satisfy the consumer, which is possible through creative thinking and functional design.
Interior Designers in Ghaziabad
The best interior design services are aimed at being provided by the best interior designers in Ghaziabad, stay updated about interior design and new designs, get in touch and share your requirements and needs. Unique Interior & Renovation. We will advise and assist you in preparing a luxurious interior.
Interior Designers in Ghaziabad
Find an interior design consultant in Ghaziabad to help you with the interior design of your home, office or other type of workplace, creating an attractive and practical interior that will make you feel especially comfortable.
Interior Designers in Ghaziabad
As a turnkey interior designer in Ghaziabad, our ethical and transparent dealings and execution of interior construction work ensure that we carry out all types of civil works, electrical works, false ceilings, plumbing works, carpentry works, sanding works, etc. We can carry out construction work at a fixed price that is among the top in the market.
Residential building for house, house, apartment, villa, bungalow, farmhouse, penthouse or bedroom, living room, drawing room and study interior, prayer room interior, dining room interior, nursery interior design in Ghaziabad Interior design, decoration and renovation interior, guest room interior, etc.
Unique Interior & Renovation: The Best Office Interiors Renovation and Home Interior Designers in Ghaziabad, We are an interior designer who trusts in greatness, quality and genuineness, yes we plan lovely home interiors. More information visit us-http://www.uiar.in
#home design#interior designer#wall design#home interior#home decor#Best Architects#Office Interiors Renovation#Home Interior Designers#Home Renovation Services#House renovation#Home Remodeling & Renovation#Modern furniture for interior#room designer company#Home renovation#Modular Kitchen
0 notes
Last Seen Blogs
