#the second is uncanny layout

[mx-lamour]

Just out here flipping tables

[muwapsturniolo]

✯✯𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐢𝐬𝐡 º 𝐂. 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨✯✯

Track .002 ☆ I'm Not Angry Anymore

pt.1

IN WHICH… Killisi-Star, mainly known as Blue Jay, finally returns to Boston after 17 years. As she tries to find her place back in her father’s life and deal with her trauma, she rekindles an old flame from her childhood. Arguments are had, secrets are revealed, and promises are broken.

WARNINGS... ANGST, DRUGS, SEIZURES, ABSENT PARENTS

Back home.

Home being Boston Massachusetts.

I never thought I would be back here after everything that's happened, it's a scary thought and an even frightening reality.

I wasn't always scared to come back, at one point I craved it, yearning for bipolar weather and the community I once had. That changed when I got to 6th grade, it seemed as if everything fell apart. My dad, Gerald, stopped visiting, claiming he was too busy to come down and see me. It hurt, but I didn't fault him for it. I only started to fault him when no visits turned into no calls, and no calls turned into him completely forgetting about me...Although I don't think he completely forgot considering he still sent gammy money to take care of me and would speak to me through her.

It hurt, knowing your own father, someone who helped create your life, made the choice to shut you out.

I was angry for years, crying myself to sleep and shouting to Gammy that I Hate him, and never wanted to see him again. But, with the help of a therapist, I managed to not be so angry.

His actions weren't right, but he had to have a reason.

So here I am at 22 years old, standing in front of my childhood home.

Gammy encouraged me to go, claiming my father does miss me and asks about me all the time, as well as wishing I was back home. I don't know how true those claims are, but my heart told me to give it a shot. He doesn't know that I'm coming, he also doesn't know that I packed up all of my things to move back in, but we will deal with it later.

I stare up at the house, taking a hit of my cigarette.

I could never figure out why my dad kept the house. Why would he want to be in the house where his wife cheated on him, and his baby girl had a seizure and almost died? But he grew up in this house, it holds all his childhood memories as well as the ones with me.

Without wasting another moment, I stomp the cigarette out and approach the front door. I raise my hand only to put it back down.

Anxiety sets in.

I feel my fingers twitch, itching for the multiple nicotine sticks in my pocket. I shake it off and knock on the door.

Instantly the door swings open and I'm greeted by a white boy I've never seen before. We stare at each other in shock for a few seconds before he speaks, "Umm, who are you?"

"I uh- I um- Are you a fan?" I frown at him in confusion. "A fan? Of what? I'm here because my dad lives here." The boy rolls his eyes and scoffs, " Yeah right. Have some fucking respect!" He goes on a tangent about fans not respecting him or ''the boys'' and all I can do is just stand there and take his words.

"So who are you claiming to be your dad anyway?"

"Gerald Grant."

It's almost uncanny how he freezes, his eyes widening in shock.

He knows something.

"Do you know him? Or where he lives?"

"He lives here...with me, my mom, and my half-sister."

Now it's my turn to tense, my heart dropping to the pits of my stomach at the newfound information. He remarried, and had another child? How come he never told me? Did Gammy know? is that why he disappeared from my life?

The silence between the two of us is ear-piercing, or maybe it's the ringing in my ears. He slowly untenses his limbs, but I can tell he's still unsure and put off with everything.

"Why don't you come inside?"

I say nothing, just giving a curt nod in response. I take a hesitant step inside the house, the air thick and suffocating. I slide off my boots off by the door and follow the boy through the house, despite already knowing the layout.

"I uh... have a couple of friends over right now, we all just came in like half an hour ago. Did you want to chill with us?" his words are awkward and strained, almost as if he doesn't want to be talk to me or be anywhere near me.

I don't blame him, I don't want to be around him either.

"uhh Sure." He nods and guides me to the living room. I walk behind him and look around the hallway.

My heartbreaks.

The pictures of me, Bonnie, and Isaiah were taken down and replaced with him and his new family. Multiple pictures of the boy in front of me dressed in sports gear, a girl who could be a few years younger in dance cheer uniforms, and pictures of him with an older woman.

He looks happy.

Would he be that happy seeing me?

We arrive in the living room and I see three boys sprawled out on the couch, nose-deep in their phones.

"Guys-" the boy starts catching their attention. They snap their heads up and their eyes immediately land on me. My eyes widen in shock and my mouth parts,

There's no way, right?

"There's no fucking way!"

"Hey Nick..." Next thing I know, four arms are wrapped around me, squeezing me tightly. I let out a genuine laugh of happiness, a smile gracing my face as they expressed how excited they were to see me again.

"Holy shit, I can't believe you're here!"

"We haven't seen you in like- 17 years" I turn and look at Chris who is still on the couch, a wary expression on his face. He seems indifferent towards me where as Nick and Matt are over the moon. It hurts considering Chris and I used to be as thick as thieves, but things change.

"I'm sorry to interrupt the reunion but, who the hell are you actually? All you have said is that you're Geralds daughter."

"My name is Killisi-Star, but I usually go by Star" I explain softly, trying to ignore Chris's eyes burning into the side of my head.

"Ok, but how do you know the triplets?"

"She was our best friend before she just up and left." it's clear Chris is hurt, I would be too if it was the other way around, but his words do nothing but make me even more anxious.

"Come sit down! Let's catch up!" Nick states, already grabbing my hand and dragging me to sit. I'm pushed back next to Chris, my body squished between him and Nick.

I hug myself and cross my legs, Nick immediately noticing and scoffing. "Get comfortable Blue, This is your house too."

I look down awkwardly at his words.

This hasn't been my home since I was five. I don't even belive it's my home now considering he has a new family.

It grows quiet but Matt quickly fixes that, "So blue, how were you these past years?"

"I've been decent...." I awkwardly respond. Despite feeling some type of happiness to be around the boys, I haven't seen them in years. It's awkward being around people you used to call your best friends and yet, you have nothing to tell them...At least nothing good.

I decide to switch the conversation back to them, "How have you all been? What have you been up to?"

Nick and Matt talk over each other, telling me how their home burnt down, them moving, to their career now as YouTubers. I was shocked to hear they moved to LA for a few years despite ultimately choosing to move back to Boston. it's interesting to see how much their lives have changed, and yet they seem like the same three boys I loved and spent every second with.

They were always animated children, bouncing off the walls as if they had copious amounts of sugar. It made sense that they decided to be YouTubers instead of going to college or doing something else with their life.

"Youtube is cool, I'll have to check you guys out sometime"

We spend the next few hours laughing and talking. I find myself analyzing each of them. Matt is still the same, but he's changed a bit. He's still a quiet person, ever only chiming in when he has the chance to speak or has something to say. His ears are now pierced and he has a bunch of tattoos as well.

Nick is still the same as when we were kids, dramatic and always thinking he's right. He has his dad moments but evens it out by also being loud and animated. He's the oldest so it makes sense for him to somewhat be the leader. Throughout the talk, he kept me close as if I would leave again. I didn't mind it though....It was comforting.

Chris was... different. He was usually toe to toe with Nick in being the loud one, he was always jumping around causing chaos, living up to the title of being the youngest sibling.

But he was quiet today.

Part of me wants to believe he truly did change and grew out of his chaotic personality, but the realistic side of me knows it's my fault he's so quiet at the moment.

Then there's Nathan. He's kind of an ass... At least to me he is. Anything I said he would make a side remark in response to, or scoff at. I can tell he was uncomfortable with me being here, it's not easy hearing your stepdad has a whole child he never mentioned.

Overall the group is nice, I don't see myself willingly hanging out with any of them. It could be because I like being alone, but it could also be because I don't fit in anymore. Maybe if I never left Boston things could be different, but unfortunately, these are the consequences of that night.

I'm pulled out of my thoughts by a car engine, "That must be Gerald" Nate mutters without looking up from his phone.

My hands instantly begin to sweat, my heart beating a mile a minute. I clench and unclench my hands as I try to keep my breathing steady, "Should you hide and surprise him?" Nick asks with a wide smile.

"I-I-I don't k-k-know."

So many thoughts are reeling through my head, I can't even hear the front door opening and closing. Suddenly I'm yanked off the couch and pulled behind the wall separating the dining room and living room.

I'm shocked to see the culprit is Chris. This whole day he hasn't been talking to me or even looking at me, and now he's hiding me.

I don't have the chance to ask him what he's doing due to my father's voice being heard. "Nate, who's car is that with all those boxes outside?"

Hearing his voice after 11 years sends me into a state of shell shock.

I hear a pair of footsteps making me turn around, I turn around and see my dad's back. "Did one of you boys get a new car?"

"No."

"So whose car is-Blue Jay?"

Tears form in my eyes at the shock on his face.

"Hi Daddy."

He drops all of his stuff and pulls me into a tight hug, picking me up and spinning me around. I let out a laugh mixed with a sob, hugging him tightly. He sets me down but doesn't let me go, holding me close to his chest.

We stay like this for about five minutes in silence before he breaks it,

"I've missed you so much Blue."

"I missed you too daddy."

I pull away from him and take him in.

He's getting old.

His hair is grey, his eye bags are a little prominent, and he now has a gold tooth.

"What are you doing here? How come you and Gammy didn't say anything." I sniffle and smile at him sadly, "I told Gammy not to tell you because I wanted it to be a surprise... I haven't seen you since Sixth grade or had a chance to speak with you and I...I miss you." He returns the sympathetic smile and holds my face. " I miss you too Blue, I-I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for disappearing from your life, you didn't deserve that I'm- It's ok...I'm not angry anymore."

He gives me a somber look, all the emotions he's holding in showing through his eyes. I can tell he's mad at himself for doing what he did, but also disappointed about missing out on so much of my life. He caresses my face, looking at me in admiration. "You've gotten so big. You're a grown woman now. 23 turning 24 next year, you have all these piercings! Jesus, last time I saw you, you were a 12-year-old and was going through your emo phase." I laugh at his words.

"You've grown too! You have a head full of grey hair and a gold tooth." He laughs and pulls me into another hug. "It's so good to have you back sweetheart. How long are you staying?"

"I um-" I pull away and pick at my sweater, "-I was hoping I could move back in...If you're -OF COURSE YOU CAN!" He picks me up and spins me once again.

"Oh, this just made my week! I can't wait until Flora and Jasmine come home! Oh, this is just great!"

I should be excited, I'm back home and my dad is happy to see me. But I can't help but feel some type of dejection as he mentions Flora and Jasmine. I don't know who's who exactly, but it hurts to now know the names of people who replaced me in my father's life. I'm pulled out of my thoughts by him continuing to speak excitedly.

"Oh! We have to get your stuff moved in!" I shake my head, "no, It's late! I can do it tomorrow."

"Too late Blue Jay!" I look past my Dad and see Matt and the other boys holding boxes. "Down the hall to the right?" Chris questions. My dad laughs, "You know it Chris!"

"Let me change and then we can catch up! Oh, I'll call Flora and tell her to pick up up burgers, gravy fries, and even some Oreo cake!"

"You remember my order from Cindy's?" I question softly.

"Of course I do! I have it every Saturday!" I throw my arms around him and take in a shakey breath, my whole body filled with warmth.

"I love you so much."

"I love you too Blue-Jay, with my whole life."

It was now 9 o'clock and Flora and Jasmine came home. It was an awkward interaction on my end, not really knowing what to say to them. It became even more awkward when my dad told Jasmine about us being siblings.

Jasmine was pretty. A pretty that would make girls envy her and boys do anything. It was mindboggling, her whole vibe was ethereal yet intimidating at the same time. She had curly black hair that was messy, dark skin, full lips, and a body of a goddess. She stood at 5'7 and her presence was captivating. "My name's Jasmine! It's nice to meet you!" even her voice was captivating, smooth like butter and warm like brown sugar. She had a beautiful smile, teeth a shining white.

"Yeah...Nice to meet you as well." I didn't mean to be so awkward or brush her off, it was a defense mechanism I developed as I got older and people mistake me for being rude.

"Oh my god! I'm so excited to finally have a sister! It's annoying having Nate around all the time! Now we can gang up on him!" I give her an awkward smile. She was a yapper and I was anything but.

"Alright alright, let us eat!" My dad says. Everyone gathers in the kitchen, but I don't move.

It's like I'm stuck, stuck staring at the tiled floors seeing my own 5-year-old body on the ground convulsing.

My dad notices me and a look of realization comes across his face. "Actually, let's eat in the living room." Flora gives him a look but he ignores it. I don't want her to be irritated with me so I shake my head, "No... The kitchen is fine." He looks at me and I nod. Everyone moves into the kitchen but it takes me a second.

Not wanting to cause a scene, I slowly walk into the kitchen. I avoid looking at the lights and sit down in the empty seat next to Chris. "You ok?" He whispers. I hum and nod my head, planting a fake smile on my face.

Everyone grabs their respective burger and drinks, getting ready to dive in and eat, but my dad stops them.

"Now I know it's cliche, but I want to make a toast to my daughter being home. She and I have gone through some very... tough times, but she's home now, and I'm the happiest I've ever been."

He looks at me and I awkwardly smile, raising my can of pop slightly.

" To family being reunited," my dad raises his drink making everyone raise theirs.

"To family being reunited!"

Everyone dives into their food, making conversation. With the way Nate side-eyes me, I can tell he starts telling stories to make me feel left out, bringing up memories of my dad taking him and Jasmine out.

My final straw was a daddy-daughter dance being mentioned.

"I think I'm going to head to bed." I stand up from the table and make my way out of the kitchen. I can hear the table get quiet, the awkward tension wafting through the home, but I keep walking. I make it to my room and softly close the door, pressing my forehead against the wooden panel.

After a few moments, I pull away and turn around.

My room still looks the same.

White walls, princess posters hanging up, my dresser is still pink with a bunch of glitter and stickers, along with my pink frilly bed set. My stuffed animals are in the corner on a shelf and my toy bin is still at the end of my bed.

It's different from my room in Michigan.

Very different.

I sigh and flop down on the twin-sized bed, staring up at the ceiling.

A few hours pass with me just staring at the ceiling, no thoughts running through my head as I lay in pure and utter silence. A knock on my door pulls me out of my empty trance. I turn towards the door and am shocked to see Chris peaking his head in. He inches into the room and closes the door, the both of us just staring at each other.

He eventually walks over to the bed and lays down next to me, the both of us staring up at the little glow-in-the-dark stars attached to the ceiling.

"Do you remember that one summer when we were at the park, and we found that apricot tree?" Chris suddenly voices. I find myself smiling fondly at the memory, my voice soft as I respond. "Yeah, we took a bunch and you slept over and we ate them."

"Then you threw up because they made you sick." He giggles at the memory. Our joyful laughter soon turns dismal, landing us in a straiined silence.

"I was really upset when you left...I come back from my Nanna's and all I'm hearing from my parents is that you moved away. I tried asking your dad why you left and he stayed, but I was brushed off. I was so confused and it hurt, eventually morphing into anger. I was angry no one would tell me why you left, I was angry I couldn't talk to you any more, I was angry my best friend up and left me with no notice at all..." I clench my eyes shut at his words, doing my best not to cry.

"I was angry when you showed up today out of the blue, acting as if everything was ok."

"Chris I'm so- I'm not angry anymore...when you left the dinner table I could tell you're hurting." He turns on his side and stares at me.

"I want to ask why you left, but something tells me it's a touchy subject..."

I say nothing.

"You'll tell me on your own time right?" Once again I stay quiet.

"When you're ready I'm all ears..... good night Blue-Jay." He stands up after patting my arm and leaves the room silently.

"Goodnight Chris." I mumble to myself before turning over and closing my eyes.

let me know what yall think of pt 2!!!!!

𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 🍑: @mattslolita @thenickgirl @guccifrog @luverboychris @zayyluvz @mrsmiagreer @chrisssluttywaist @78yaz @hoesformatt @freshloveforthefit @3lizaluvs @mattsturniolosgirlfriend @jetaimevous @luxy-nyx @ts-is-my-spirt-animal @iihrtsturniol0 @idontexistman @katw4shereee @madisturn @starlace111 @zivall @adoreindie @imwetforyourmom @sturnsxplr-25 @sturncakez @theyluvme-2315 @moonk1ss3d @@babyalliah-777 @sturniololol

[defectivevillain]

this broken design, ch2

“Dr. Lecter?” You blink a few times, convinced that you’re dreaming. The man’s gleaming eyes and concerned expression seem a bit too realistic to be conjured by your sleeping mind, though. You’re not sure if you’ve ever seen him look worried. You quickly decide that you don’t like it.

“Hannibal, please,” the doctor responds nonchalantly. You stare at him in utter confusion. Just what is happening right now? You thought you were dreaming, but this feels a bit too vivid. “What are you doing out here?”

read chapter one here. this part won’t make sense, otherwise! :$ 

[ao3 version of the fic]

reader’s pronouns are unspecified but masa-intended. 

warnings: canon-typical violence & gore, spoilers to the first few episodes

You wake to find yourself resting on the plush sofa in the living room. You’re in virtually the same position as before, except there’s a woolen blanket tossed over you. It takes you several seconds to process everything and, once you do, you freeze. Your unintentional adventure onto the middle of the road, Hannibal’s rather convenient appearance, your trip back to Hannibal’s home. And…  

Hannibal is the Chesapeake Ripper. You take a deep breath in, not very fond of the way your heart is racing. You were entirely vulnerable last night; he could’ve killed you with ease. That begs the question: Why didn’t he? Why didn’t Hannibal take the opportunity to take you out? Surely, the FBI being close on his trail must be aggravating. Then again, the Ripper has always acted as if he’s several steps ahead of everyone else (and, unfortunately, he often is). You ponder the thought for a moment longer, before quickly distracting yourself. You don’t want to think about it for a while—it’s too disturbing to contemplate so early in the morning.

Once you feel slightly better—you’re not sure if you’ll ever grow truly comfortable with the events of the past night—you get to your feet and pace around the room. Honestly, you’re not entirely familiar with the layout of Hannibal’s home. Plus, you hadn’t exactly had the chance to look around last night. There’s a door off to the side that must lead to the kitchen. You hesitate for a few seconds, before shaking your head, clasping the doorknob, and twisting it open. The door falls open to reveal a beautiful kitchen. You’re then struck with the uncanny resemblance to a theater. Perhaps that was the idea. Cooking is a performance to Hannibal, after all.

“What did you put in that tea?” The words fall from your lips before you can stop them. Hannibal stands with his back to you, but he quickly turns upon hearing you enter. He’s wearing a suit already. You feel immensely underdressed, in your filthy pajamas from the previous night. You resolutely pretend not to look as uncomfortable as you feel.

“Good morning to you, too,” Hannibal responds, an amused expression on your face. His sleeves are rolled up as he continues to prepare whatever he’s making. You can’t shake the belief that he must be absolutely furious with you. Hannibal values his privacy, his space, and you’re intruding on it. You’re not quite sure why he hasn’t killed you yet.

“I’m serious,” you frown. The thought hadn’t graced your mind until now, but you can’t seem to rid yourself of it. How did you fall asleep so quickly last night? You were extremely fatigued, of course. However, you suspect Hannibal had something to do with it, too. “What was in the tea?”

“Chamomile,” Hannibal answers with a helpless expression. You’re not convinced, not even when he’s smiling like that. He walks out to the dining room and you follow behind him. “Breakfast?” You warily glance down at the plate on the table, only to find an innocent enough egg scramble. It’s reminiscent of what you ate that one morning in the motel, except without the suspicious meat. You have to consciously push away the thought—the likelihood that the meat was from one of the Ripper’s recent victims. The egg scramble today doesn’t have meat—at least, not that you can see. You inhale slowly and sit down at the place he’s set for you.

“No suitable candidates for meat?” You can’t help but snipe. It takes your mind a few minutes to recognize the fact that you have no power in this situation and, thus, you shouldn’t be pushing the limits. You chance a glance up at Hannibal, fully prepared to see an irritated expression. Instead, all you see is amusement and intrigue. You’re not sure which expression is more dangerous.

“The harvest wasn’t quite bountiful,” Hannibal responds. How on earth hadn’t you made the connection to the Chesapeake Ripper sooner? Hannibal is constantly making those kinds of comments—allusions that just barely scrape the surface of his true actions. Before, you merely thought him to be an eccentric European. Now, you can’t help but think that his eccentricities mask his brutalities–his actions as a killer.

“You garden?” You say, instead of throwing out the accusation you know to be true. If Hannibal wants to play this game, then so be it. You take a bite of the egg scramble, unsurprised that it turns out to be quite good. Hannibal is an excellent cook—at least, when he isn’t putting people on the menu.

“Occasionally,” Hannibal remarks loftily. He finishes chewing and levels you with a strange look. “Nothing measures up to the quality of homegrown herbs.” You let out a breath through your nose, hiding a full laugh. Of course, Hannibal is pretentious about his herbs. That makes complete sense. You wisely keep quiet and take another bite of your food, making sure to compliment Hannibal on his cooking skills. He really is quite good.

“I was hoping you could drive me back to the institute,” you say, once the two of you have finished breakfast. You feel guilty about asking so much of Hannibal but, then again, he insisted that you come with him to his residence. “I don’t have my car, so…”

“Of course,” Hannibal nods, making your doubts diminish. You exhale slowly. You aren’t sure why you worked yourself up so much over that simple question. The clatter of plates draws you out of that spiraling thought process and you watch as Hannibal moves to stack his dishes.

“Here, let me,” you say before he can object. You quickly take his dishes and walk them over to the sink. Thankfully, there aren’t too many dishes—just yours and his. You find a strange-looking brush and internally hope it’s a sponge, before drowning it in soap and attacking the plates. Silence settles in the space as you busy yourself with the dishes. Hannibal walks over to you and leans against the counter a few feet from the sink. He levels you with an inquisitive gaze.

“What?” You can’t help but ask, once the staring begins to stress you out. You steadily focus on the running water, the dirty plates, anything but Hannibal’s keen eyes. Droplets of water fall down your skin as you steadily wash the last remaining dish, shelving it to put away later.

“I’d like to accompany you on your next assignment.” That completely throws you off. You don’t hesitate to ask for an explanation, which Hannibal doesn’t exactly provide. Instead, he paces around for a moment before leveling you with a weighted gaze. “Only if you’re amenable, of course.”

“Okay,” you decide to say, instead of arguing like you want to. Hannibal doesn’t typically budge when his mind is made up. Ironically, it appears as if Hannibal expected you to argue, because he raises his eyebrows for a second. You decide to ignore that. “Before we go… Do you have any clothes I could wear?”

“Of course,” Hannibal nods. You want to feel self conscious, but it’s a bit too late for that. You’ve been wearing your dirty pajamas since the night before, so the psychiatrist has already seen them. Hannibal leaves the room with the promise of bringing you sufficient attire. You just hope that the clothes aren’t extravagant.

Hannibal returns moments later with a neatly folded pile of clothing in his hands. He offers you the clothes and you take them. You hardly get the chance to unfold them before you’re freezing to stare up at your psychiatrist. “Um, Hannibal?”

“Yes?” Hannibal asks casually, calm and composed as always. Silence descends in the air, creating a thick tension that you’re scared to break through.  

“I didn’t mean you had to give me nice clothes,” you manage to say, looking at the dress shirt and pants he’s provided you.

“Nonsense,” Hannibal shakes his head. There’s clearly something he’s refraining from telling you, because his lips part for a moment as if to speak. The psychiatrist then shakes his head. You shrug silently, glancing around the space. There’s a hallway off to the side and you take a step in that direction.

“I’ll change and then… we can go?” Hannibal nods and you duck into the nearest room, closing the door behind you. Upon closer examination, you realize that it’s a linen closet. However, it’s not like a typical linen closet—a bureau or dresser; instead, it’s an entire room. You exhale slowly and put on the clothes he’s given you. You're surprised to find that they fit perfectly. Why or how he has clothing in your precise measurements, you're not quite sure. You take a moment to fix up your appearance before stepping back out into the hallway.

Hannibal turns around when he evidently hears you exit the linen closet. There’s a satisfied expression on his face. You hastily button the sleeves and straighten out your shirt—well, the shirt he gave you. Before you can adjust the fabric more, Hannibal leans closer and smoothing out your collar. You send him a grateful smile that you hope will hide your anxiety at his proximity. Thankfully, he’s backing away before long and the two of you are free to walk out to his driveway. Hannibal pauses for a moment and you just narrowly avoid running into him.

“Shit, sorry,” you murmur, putting a hand on his shoulder to steady yourself. The man walks to the passenger side first and opens the car door for you. You move to sit and Hannibal looks down at you from where he’s standing.

“Apologizing again?” There’s an abstruse smile on his face as he speaks. You roll your eyes.

“I wasn’t aware this was a therapy session,” you reply with a wan smile. Hannibal shakes his head in amusement, walking back to the driver’s side and getting in. Luckily, the ensuing car ride is smooth and painless. Before long, the two of you are at the crime scene that Jack summoned you to. You exit the car and take the lead, leaving Hannibal to follow behind you. Jack is standing off to the side with a concentrated expression on his face. You greet him and he snaps out of his reverie. It seems like your boss is about to say something to you when his gaze suddenly falls to the space next to you.

“Ah, Doctor Lecter,” Jack smiles thinly. “What a pleasant surprise.” The look on Jack’s face suggests that it isn’t, in fact, a pleasant surprise. You can’t say you’re terribly surprised at that development.

“Hello, Jack,” Hannibal responds amicably. You can’t quite elucidate the expression on his face. “I must insist that you call me Hannibal.” The man smiles charmingly, a gesture that would work on most people. Unfortunately for him, Jack Crawford isn’t most people. You resist a laugh at the annoyance that just barely shows through on your boss’s face.

“Hannibal, then; what brings you here?” Jack looks at Hannibal warily. Just before the psychiatrist can respond, you decide to interject.

“I brought him,” you blurt out before your brain can catch up. Jack blinks at you in confusion. You chance a glance at Hannibal and raise your eyebrows at him, trying to telepathically communicate that he should go along with it. The man nods ever so slightly. “I figured we could use the help.” Jack assesses you for a second.

“Don’t distract my best agent,” Jack then warns Hannibal. You immediately grimace, knowing that the statement is entirely unnecessary. The likelihood of Hannibal distracting anyone working is slim to none. Also, wait... Jack considers you his best agent? That’s certainly unexpected.

Thankfully, Hannibal doesn’t seem to be too bothered by Jack’s remark. There’s a knowing smile on his face, as if he expected a warning along those lines. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Hannibal remarks smoothly. You decide to walk down the path towards the house, Hannibal in tow. He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his unanswered questions lingering in the air. You take a deep breath.

“Jack gets antsy at crime scenes,” you explain, trying to contextualize why you lied about being the one to bring Hannibal along, when, in all reality, it was Hannibal’s idea. You shove your hands in your pockets, feeling the need to find something to channel your restless energy into. “I’m used to being on the receiving end of his rather short fuse.”

“Interesting,” Hannibal muses, falling into step next to you, “I wouldn’t have gathered that from our interaction. He seems to think rather highly of you.” You chuckle wryly under your breath.

“Lord knows why,” you mutter, continuing to walk towards the house. You don’t intend for your comment to be perceived, but Hannibal seems to hear it regardless. You fidget and ignore the discomfort tugging at your core.

“As a friend, I must point out that you’re quite skilled in the field,” Hannibal remarks, to your utter surprise. It takes all of your energy to maintain a neutral expression. Despite your efforts, your eyes widen. “Jack likely appreciates your work etiquette and talent.”

“Somehow, I doubt that,” you frown, letting your gaze fall to the cobbled path below your feet. You kick at one of the upended rocks and it goes skittering along in front of you. Hannibal is your psychiatrist—he’s supposed to say things like that. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, though.” Hannibal’s expression suggests that this won’t be the last time you have this conversation. You resist a shudder at that, imagining sitting in Hannibal’s office and being forced to pick apart your self-deprecation. 

You finally enter the house and begin to wind through the halls, listening for voices. Eventually, you manage to find the scene of the crime: the master bedroom. The victim’s corpse lies against the mattress. Their blood seeps through the white sheets and spreads out around them, creating a puddled effect. Perhaps the most noticeable thing, however, is the gruesome way in which the victim’s chest is torn open, leaving the organs on display for all to see. You don’t realize that you’re blocking the doorway until Hannibal places a gentle hand on your shoulder. Following his movement, you step aside to let him in. There’s no trace of emotion anywhere on Hannibal’s face as he takes in the corpse of the victim.

“Hey!” Beverly greets you, breaking you out of your thoughts. The agent gets to her feet and grabs her clipboard. You greet Beverly in response. She smiles at you, then looks at Hannibal for a moment. Her gaze is scrutinizing and suspicious. “What’s he doing here?”

“Dr. Lecter, psychiatrist and former surgeon,” Hannibal introduces himself, before you can answer. “Please call me Hannibal.” Beverly raises an eyebrow at his outstretched hand but shakes it, albeit begrudgingly. You decide to interrupt before she can ask the question you’re expecting.

“He has clearance,” you say. Your comment goes mostly unnoticed, as Beverly and Hannibal appear to size each other up. Your two most terrifying acquaintances are now meeting. You begin to regret everything that’s led you to this moment.

“Former surgeon,” Beverly repeats, staring at Hannibal in disbelief. You look at your friend, begging her not to say what you think she’s about to say. Unfortunately, Beverly doesn’t seem to care about your distress. She swivels to focus her attention on Hannibal. “What, did you kill someone?”

“Bev,” you groan, wanting to bury your head in your hands. Beverly has never been quite good at filtering her thoughts—always saying whatever’s on her mind. Normally, that’s just one of the many things you love about her. Right now, however, you wish Beverly had a better filter.

“No, I did not,” Hannibal responds, his eyes glittering. There’s nothing but politeness in his frame, but you can sense an aura of irritation emanating from him. You resist the urge to laugh. You felt remarkably similar upon first meeting Beverly, because her blunt honesty can easily come across as rude.

“Well, since you have clearance, Lecter… I guess you can stay,” Beverly says to Hannibal. You chuckle under your breath at the way Beverly refuses to call him by his first name. The thinly concealed annoyance on Hannibal’s face is equally amusing. Beverly then turns to you. “Anyway. Time to do your thing?” Beverly asks. You nod and she walks over to Price and Zeller, putting a hand on each of their shoulders.

“Let’s give him some space.” She sends you an understanding smile, which you return with an exasperated eye roll. Beverly then raises an eyebrow at Hannibal, evidently expecting him to leave with them. Your friend turns to you and squints between the two of you, before shrugging and taking her leave.

“I prefer to do this alone,” you murmur, after the weight of Hannibal’s gaze grows to be too much. The air between you feels charged and tense. You clench your fists at your sides and listen for his footsteps as he exits the room. You wait a few moments and turn around, only to find that the man hasn’t moved.

“I will not be a bother,” Hannibal says. You resist the compelling urge to argue. It’s not that big of a deal, really. It’ll make you uncomfortable, but you can still slip into the killer’s mind with someone else in the room. Besides, Hannibal is your psychiatrist, after all. Nothing he sees will disturb him.

“Fine,” you sigh. It’s not like Hannibal will witness much, anyway—other than you staring off into space. Resolved to your fate, you pinch the bridge of your nose. The pendulum swings before your eyes once more. You close your eyes and, when you open them again, the bedroom is empty.

The victim sits on the mattress, looking down at their phone. You approach them with a knife in hand. You’re not fond of guns—they create too much of a mess. You’re eerily silent, enough so that the victim doesn’t expect your appearance [they never do]. An unsettling prickling feeling runs down your skin, creating goosebumps and sending a shiver down your spine. For a second, you’re struck with the uncanny belief that the victim sees you for who you are. The sensation is gone a moment later, as you realize they still haven’t noticed your presence. Heart thudding loudly in your chest, you reach out and stab them in the back of the neck. The victim flails and you turn them around, shoving them into the mattress before stabbing them once more in the chest. They’re dead within a few seconds. The prickling feeling along your skin hasn’t gone away, even with their death. Weirdly enough, the victim almost looks at peace—if not for the wounds to the back of their neck and their chest. You plunge your trembling hands into their chest and pull. Their blood taints your skin a murky red. The victim is open and vulnerable; their organs are on display for all to see.

Something still isn’t right, though. Anger bubbling up in your chest, you rip their eyeballs out of their sockets. Blood seeps out of their eyes and you streak it downwards across their face—an uncanny resemblance to tears. You put your knife away and survey your masterpiece one last time. This is your design. You glance down at your hands, expecting to see them stained with crimson. They’re clean and unmarred. That’s strange.

“What do you see?” Hannibal asks. You can’t suppress a flinch as you’re roughly brought back to the present. You blink several times and shake your head to clear your thoughts. “See?” Your eyes take in the strange painting the killer has made: the blood streaked across the victim’s skin, the pathway to the heart being ripped right open. It doesn’t take long for you to come up with an answer.

“This killer is at a crossroads,” you frown. You can feel the emotion rolling off of this corpse and each mutilation feels symbolic of something. Even without slipping into the killer’s skin, you could see the anger, irritation, and discomfort. “He feels… vulnerable, perceived in ways he hasn’t been perceived before.”

“How do you reckon so?” Hannibal asks, a strange note of something intangible in his voice. You can’t quite tell, but his voice almost seems sharper. You push the thought aside; you have more things to worry about—namely, the murder scene in front of your very eyes.

“The chest is carved open, yet the heart is left entirely intact,” you tap your chin in contemplation as you look down at the corpse. “It’s unusual for the organs to remain, but that omission was a conscious decision. Furthermore, the eyes are gouged out. He could have left them as is, but he took an extra step and smeared the blood down the cheeks to resemble tears. It speaks of grief. Possibly, also, acceptance? I’m not really sure. This feels… weirdly intimate.”

“Intimate,” Hannibal repeats, evidently intrigued. You take a shuddering breath as the man takes a step further into the room and, subsequently, closer to you. “Few can see past the initial brutality of such an act.” He looks down at the victim’s body, entirely unperturbed. His eyes are fixed on the body like a moth drawn to a flame.

“I can’t quite put my finger on it,” you start, walking around to the side of the bed to look down at the victim. “This feels like a reckoning. The killer is coming to terms with who he is, while simultaneously reaching for something more. It’s a strange juxtaposition: contentment and yearning.”

“Incredible,” Hannibal whispers, his eyes wide with an unrecognizable emotion. The sight grows to be too much and you rip your eyes away. The room’s air feels heated and stifling all of a sudden. You feel at your temple, recognizing the beginning of a headache.

“I suppose it is, in a gruesome way,” you frown, taking a look at the victim one last time. There is a sort of absurd beauty in the way they are laid to rest. Their heart is no longer caged by ribs and skin—it is free to roam. There’s even a restful expression on their face. “I can certainly feel the emotion embedded in the details.”

“I was referring to you,” Hannibal murmurs, drawing you from your thoughts. You look over at him, only to be met with a gaze so intense that it nearly makes your knees buckle. You take a half-step backwards habitually, nearly knocking into the bedside table. The look on his face is nothing short of dangerous. Thankfully, you’re saved from responding by Beverly’s sudden entrance into the room.

“Find anything?” You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. You relay your findings to Beverly, Price, and Zeller, who all look significantly intrigued and disturbed at the same time. Price and Zeller then go over some of the forensic evidence they found. Eventually, the four of you decide to let Price and Zeller brief Jack on the new findings. Hannibal walks outside—evidently to get some fresh air—which leaves you and Beverly alone in the room.

“Hey, Bev, do you have aspirin?” You ask, feeling a familiar pulsing ache in your temple. You find that slipping into the mind of the killer often makes your head spin. It almost feels as if someone is hammering into your skull. You grasp the side table to steady yourself.

“Yeah,” Beverly nods, digging around in her satchel. You breathe a sigh of relief. “You gotta remember to bring some with you, dude.”

“I know,” you sigh heavily. Beverly then pulls out a capsule of aspirin. You smile gratefully and grab two pills, before handing it back to her. It takes you a moment to remember that you don’t have water. Thankfully, Beverly procures a water bottle for you–not without a remark about you being forgetful–and you take the pills.

“Anyway, what’s Lecter’s deal?” You frown at Beverly’s back. She’s bent over the victim’s body, evidently looking for traces of evidence left behind. You already have a bad feeling that she won’t be able to find anything. “He’s a little weird.”

“I’m a little weird, too,” you argue, crossing your arms across your chest defensively. Beverly’s gaze finally falls away from the victim and she stops bending down, instead looking at you for a moment. For a few seconds, the two of you are left staring at each other.  

“No, you’re very weird,” Beverly then counters, a mischievous smile on her face. You slap her shoulder playfully, which prompts her to let out a dramatic hiss of pain. “Whatever. As long as he doesn’t get in the way, I don’t really care.”

“That’s the Bev I know and love,” you grin. You take a peek out into the hallway, only to find that Hannibal is nowhere to be found. Shit, you realize. He was your ride. You bite your lip and turn to Beverly, who still looks rather proud of herself. “Hey, on an unrelated note… can you drive me home?”

“Wow, trying to flatter me into giving you a ride?” Beverly laughs. You realize your blunder and you quickly stammer out an apology, but your effort only makes Bev laugh harder. It takes a few moments for her to evidently catch her breath.  “I’m just messing with you; I should be able to drive you.”

“Awesome, thanks,” you reply breathlessly. “I’ll just need to speak to Jack and then I’ll be done.” Beverly nods and returns to her work. You’re sure that you could scream at her and she wouldn’t notice—that’s just how concentrated she gets at crime scenes. You decide to stick around for a while longer to conduct your own investigation. Together, the two of you spend an immeasurable amount of time performing tests and examining the corpse. You’re not even aware of time passing until Beverly’s phone goes off and she informs you that it’s getting late. This time, you walk out to meet Jack and deliver the news. You find your boss standing out in the front lawn, ordering some officers around. The poor guys, you shake your head in sympathy. Jack must sense your approach, because he turns around and levels you with an expectant gaze.

“Bev and I performed some tests,” you start, already dreading this conversation. You’ve learned that Jack has begun to expect far too much from you. You can always glean details from the killers, sure, but your method is far from perfect. There are always holes in the logic you acquire. “Ultimately, we’re looking for a middle-aged man. He works some sort of day job… maybe a businessman? He has a wife and a daughter.”

“That’s not enough,” Jack interjects predictably.

“It’s going to have to be,” you respond, staring back at him. Unfortunately, that’s all you found. Jack will have to make do with that information. More accurately, your team will have to make do with that information. You’re certain it won’t be long before you find the killer, though; Beverly, Price, and Zeller are all talented forensic experts. Jack seems to come to that same conclusion, although he clearly isn’t happy about it. Your boss asks you a few more questions—most of which you’re unable to answer—until he frees you from duty.

Finally, you can get back home. It’s been a long day. You take a few steps towards the front door of the home to get Beverly when you feel eyes digging into your back. You turn around instinctually, only to find Hannibal staring at you from his car. You return his gaze for a second, before realizing that he seems to be summoning you closer. After walking over, you lean into the open window on the passenger side and grin awkwardly. Hannibal’s gaze shifts from you to the empty passenger seat of his car and you begin to connect the dots.

“Bev’s going to give me a ride…” You smile, resisting the urge to itch the back of your neck amidst the awkward tension.

“I’ll drive you home,” Hannibal remarks, apropos of your statement. His voice is entirely assertive and you find yourself agreeing with him habitually. You manage to grab Beverly’s attention and point at Hannibal’s car. She raises her eyebrows suggestively and, in a fit of exasperation, you send her a vulgar hand gesture. Beverly quickly returns the gesture before waving. You roll your eyes and get into the passenger seat of Hannibal’s car. Before long, you’re on the open road.

The ride is mostly silent. Most of the time, you’d feel pressured to fill that silence with something. With Hannibal, however, the silence is comfortable. That recognition is startling and it nearly forces your next words out of your mouth.“Thanks for, well, everything.”

“Of course,” Hannibal nods, his eyes fixated on the road. In the darkness, they hold a dangerous metallic gleam. Your gaze falls down to his hands grasping the steering wheel. Just how many lives have those hands taken? How many times have they been stained with blood and marked with violence? The thought makes your stomach turn a little. You decide to focus your attention elsewhere.

Before long, Hannibal is pulling into your driveway. You immediately unbuckle your seat and move to grasp the door handle, but the man places a hand on your shoulder. Confused, you remain seated and watch as he walks around the car. Hannibal then opens the car door for you.

“Thanks, Hannibal,” you murmur, pushing yourself up and out of the car. Somehow, this leads to you standing quite close to the man, only separated by the car door. Your fingers twitch as you grasp the door. Hannibal’s gaze doesn’t falter in intensity and you suddenly need an escape.“See you later.” The moment is broken and you push the door closed. Hannibal nods and makes his way back to the driver’s seat. You stand in the driveway and watch as the sleek car pulls away, driving off until it entirely disappears from your view.

chapter 3

I feel like there is a lot of unmasked potential regarding Beverly and Hannibal… I think they’d get along rly well. They’re definitely gifted at getting on each others’ nerves, too,,, lmao.

anyway, thx for reading! <333

tagging: @embalmed-roses @blood-070 and @yourlocalratwriter  

[nikibogwater]

I've said this before, and I'm gonna say it again: animated movies ought to be given the same treatment as video games. Keep everything the same--the layout, composition, voice acting, music, story etc. But update visuals. Nobody asked for Toy Story 5. But a lot of us would be pretty dang excited to see the first Toy Story re-animated so Andy's face isn't such an uncanny valley nightmare. The Incredibles did not need a pointless sequel thirteen-and-a-half years after the fact, but it sure as heck could benefit from having the visuals of said pointless sequel. I would rather see Dreamworks burn to the ground than see a soulless, corporate, politically correct live-action regurgitation of the first How to Train Your Dragon movie, but I would gladly sacrifice the $30 for a theater ticket to see the first movie redone to match the visuals of the second and third.

[tiredgamergirl]

A ball amidst the Maltese Mountains hosted in a mysterious mansion with a unknown benefactor, a very exciting and curious prospect for some that turned horribly when the clock stuck midnight and three girls were turned into glass statues. The Fairytale Detective is called once again for the 5th adventure in the Dark Parables series to investigate the possibility of the involvement of the Godmother, a witch that is said to be over a thousand years old and seeks for “Cinderella”, pure-hearted maidens, in order to sacrifice their souls for nefarious goals. Once inside the mansion, a giant beast snatched one of the glass statues by breaking through a solid wall and the Detective meets up with Katherine, a girl that attended the ball and her stepsister was one of the unfortunate maidens that got cursed and offers to assist in the investigation. What is the Godmother’s goal? And how come someone who has helped so many girls before, like Prince James’ second wife, started to hurt them?

Once again there aren’t many new mechanics, only that the stories feels somewhat longer than the previous title as it covers two different fairy tales this time: Cinderella and Pinocchio. The graphics are beautiful as usual, although some transparency and colors can make some objects harder to spot in the HoD scenes. The locations are varied, going from the mysterious mansion, to lush natural landscape to near nightmarish cursed locations with many environmental storytelling. The pacing makes the player go back and forth in different areas, circling back to areas previously explored under new light.  

The bonus game showcases the oriental Cinderella, which shows the Godmother before her descent to despair. It is rather uncanny how the cottage has the exact same layout as the one in Europe, and compared to the previous' title bonus adventure and the overall story it is rather short.

Another solid title to the series, The Final Cinderella might occasionally suffer with some funny voice acting that, given the nature of the budget, is charming. Another solid release from the series.

[askmaeda]

What are your thoughts on alternative universes?

It’s most certainly an intriguing concept.. Though I will admit the idea of countless parallel dimensions seeping into one another is quite daunting. I’ve caught glimpses of many counterparts floating around, it’s become very uncanny! Uncomfortable, even! Who knows what could stride into our own reality at any given moment! Exciting, isn’t it? To think someone like me could get the opportunity to witness the intersection of worlds.. 

Well… so far we’ve proven to be able to coexist without triggering “multiversal armageddon.” So far we’ve been able to maintain a “balance” to some degree. So round of applause for those who haven’t tried ripping out each other's throats! Round of applause for those who have handed their trust to the unknown! However, as this develops further, there becomes more potential for collision, war, territorial conflict… Though there’s nothing hope cannot conquer. Picture a world where anybody could simply step into the realm of another! How accessible do you think this is? How many people are able to leave their own orbit? The majority are bound to the same land they’ve always inhabited. Hmmmmm.. Interesting how many parallels of myself were able to converge here… Fortunate or unfortunate? We seem to be a more common occurrence. Second to the hamsters, of course. The reign of the hmapers surpasses us all. Such ambition. Such beautiful hope nestled within. Deserving of their pedestal, of course. Wouldn’t dare to question their authority. How lucky am I to have such a skilled son? Swaying off track.. How annoying of me.

Every universe contributes in their own way– unique to themselves. Like snowflakes. No two snowflakes are alike, although many have similar layouts, some seemingly identical at first glance. Remarkable… Really… There’s so many layers to dissect. We may never fully grasp the depths of alternative realities. 

Rose, have you ever heard of the omegaverse? A/B/O? A world in which humans are divided and classified as alphas, betas, and omegas? Alphas are the leaders of the pack, betas are the so-called “normies,” and omegas are the “submissive types.” Haha, let’s not continue this any further. I just brought it up because I’ve seen the terms being thrown around the community. No point in disturbing you any further. I still wish I hadn’t come across that. 

I must be boring you. Ah.. I’ll supply you with tomatoes so you may fire at will. 

[weebsinstash]

I saw that fairy ask and you know what would be insufferable actually?

Fairy! Gojo.

He sees a lil cute traveler who got lost from her group while taking a walk through the forest, decides he wants to mess with her a bit. Absolute piece of shit bully except now he’s a fairy (which… isn’t very different from how he usually is? lmao), altering her perception of time and space (or maybe altering the layout of the fucking forest. who knows) so she’s walking around in circles for what feels like a couple of hours when it’s actually been days, scaring her with creepy sounds of his laughter and pitter-patter of feet, to the point she’s so scared she breaks down crying.

Meanwhile he’s just laughing at his funny little pranks until he decides “you know what I want to keep her actually :3” so he just appears and starts trying to interact like everything is fine and dandy. Maybe he does this thing I saw in a folklore tale once where the fairy undressed herself and bathed by the river to seduce the guy she wanted except it’s Gojo and the last thing you want to see when you’re scared and lost in a forest is a naked uncanny grown ass man bathing in a river.

Or consider this: Unseelie Fairy! Sukuna. This one’s a menace.

Ok so the first thing coming in my head is, remember how he kept absolutely pestering the fuck out of Nanami and it was to give him a note and when Nanami finally opened it, it was just a drawing of a dick. He's such a fucking troll I can just, SEE a fae Gojo bugging you constantly and insisting you take some sort of gift from him and you keep turning him down either out of modesty and being humble or you just genuinely don't like him and when he finally cracks your patience and you take it just to get him to leave you alone, he just gets this shit eating grin "ok you accepted my special gift and that means we're married now~!" and he's being 500% serious like he did in fact not tell you he was basically doing his people's courting ritual and you have now basically accepted to like, be his spouse 💀

You open the gift or unwrap it and it's just a drawing of a dick or some other troll gift, he just needed you to accept period and NOW that you're "together" he can get you REAL gifts (that are also occasionally fucked up or twisted). Like imagine you turn him down so many times he eventually just offers you something so extremely small and minor it's like, ok is this all it takes to leave me alone? He gives you a little braided bracelet or like handcrafted trinket or like something handmade and humble and seemingly innocent and it's like Surprise Bitch That's Enchanted and you just touched it or even put it on 😩😩😩

Other classic dickhead fairy Gojo moments include "you're lost in the woods and he uses magic to distort the forest and make you walk in circles until you're literally crying and freaking out and he thinks it's really funny and adorable" like he's some kind of malicious ass Cheshire cat, constantly laughing at your struggles and teasing you. He'll tease you to tears and then kiss those tears away and say you're a cute silly little baby 🥰 (lmao I'm stoned and basically forgot that's literally what you said already so, same braincell haha)

He's like completely out of touch and not realizing that, he's not just interested in you, he's legitimately infatuated with you, until you're like at the local harvest festival or something similar and you go to dance with someone else and, wait a second why is he getting so tense watching someone else put their hands on you and look into your eyes and you're both smiling and laughing and--

he loses his temper and some magic bullshittery happens like it suddenly starts to storm or another person accidentally trips into your partner and they twist their ankle and can't dance anymore or even something falling on them or being blown by a sudden and specific gust of wind like gojo is canonically pretty sadistic imo like he had to be ordered not to kill someone and he's like "ok I'll just horrifically twist all their limbs then :)"

And he's, you know a fae and a weirdo so he doesn't even always need to traditionally spend time with you. You're ignoring him and refusing to come near him? Fine, he'll transform into a cat and suddenly you're rubbing his belly and giving his kisses and calling him a little scrunkly baby like, magic really does open all doors. Maybe his gifted bracelet or charm that you put on let's him track you and even read your thoughts and shit and of course you can't take it off

And on the subject of Sukuna, someone was asking if I saw the newest developments with him after we were discussing the recent manga developments, and it's like "oh you mean him being ugly now, yeah I saw 😒" 😂😂😂 Yuuji has some potential with him being a relatively idk nice and innocent boy and then he's got, you know, a mischievous ancient demon inside of him. Itadori over here "wow Reader is a really good sorceror and has a good heart, im lucky to have then as my friend ^^" and Sukuna chimes in "yeah that's why they would look so cute with their mouth on our cock :3"

[atherix]

📓📓📓👀

Oh ho ho alright then <3

FIRST AU you get is one you already know all about, however I will talk about it anyway because I love it; my pirate AU.

In this one, Scar is the youngest Elven prince, the sparest of the spares of the heir, and one day just ups and disappears, stealing one of his mother's naval ships on his way out. This world is sci-fantasy but the Elves, while they definitely have a compulsion magic and Uncanny Valley going on (think eyes a little too large, teeth a little too sharp, mouth a little too wide, skin a little too smooth- like a porcelain doll, or a finely crafted mask) do not have the level of magic they do in Midnight, and the Elves are rather technologically advanced as far as society goes.

So Scar steals an Elven naval ship, and the thing about Elven ships is, through a combination of clever architecture and nigh-incomprehensible redstone engineering, can fly. The ship has wing sails. So Scar now has this amazing vessel that no one outside of the Elven kingdom has ever seen, and ofc the outside navy wants it, as do certain pirate crews...

Now, Scar builds a little, but loyal, crew and embraces his new title of pirate. Mumbo is his first mate and by the time the story starts they've already become lovers- which a lot of people think Mumbo absolutely mad for, because Elves were once upon a time predators of humans and humans (and related species) still feel an instinctive fear of them. They're being chased by the navy, the Elves are searching for their wayward prince (no one on the crew, not even Mumbo, knows Scar is a prince), and Ren- a rival pirate- is chasing them because he, too, wants the flying ship. Shenanigans ensue, Grian is acquired (and he has his own mission which Scar and Mumbo offer to help with, which he only accepts after he finds out the ship can fly), there's a literal ocean of sand somewhere along the way... and along the way Scar and Mumbo's relationship, which starts pretty surface-level based on mutual attraction, deepens into actual genuine love, and then Grian gets thrown into the mix and kfdjkgfdjkkj-

SECOND AU you get is the Dragon Hunters AU, loosely based off of HTTYD, in which Mumbo and Xisuma are brothers. Xisuma is the chief of their... village, I suppose you can call it; the village started as a band of dragon hunters many many many years ago, and their ancestors got stranded and settled down, and now they still go out to hunt dragons but it's more of a self defense thing now. Mumbo, being the wet cat mechanic he is, is a terrible dragon hunter. His family and village love him of course but no one really believes he has what it takes. Grian is his best friend and the one person who believes him him 100%, but Grian has some secrets of his own.

Scar is a dragon rider, a clan of Elves that have adapted to live harmoniously with dragons (LOOK you can pry Elf Scar from my cold dead hands I am not letting him go). He's the younger brother of Gem, who is the princess and heir of their Elf clan. Scar is absolutely fascinated by the complete wet cat energy Mumbo gives out when he fails to kill a dragon, this time not out of inability but because he doesn't have the heart to, and thinks this one can be redeemed (Scar had gone to save the dragon from Mumbo but would have arrived too late had Mumbo not been a soft heart).

Anyway that's. Pretty much all I have for this lmao

THE THIRD AU you get is Mumbo Lives In A Sentient House And The House Is Grumbot AU. I need. A better name for it. But basically Mumbo is a hermit, possibly a vampire again because vampire Mumbo is just so good, but also possibly just Some Guy™ or something a little eldritch flavored. Either way, he lives in a house- a manor or maybe even a castle- that is continuously changing. Its walls change, its layout changes, doors change location, windows change, rooms move, stairs disappear. This house likes no one BUT Mumbo, and Mumbo lives peacefully and safely inside. Of course Grian and Scar, two guys who grew up in the village the home overlooks and heard all the stories of hauntings and mysterious disappearances, go to the house because Scar's cat, Jellie, ran inside an open window.

Once more, Mumbo's absolute wet cat energy combined with his much more aggressive house is just. Mwah. Sadly I don't have much more on this AU, as it's more of a plot bunny, BUT. Here it is <3

[dundunny]

Switch version of Super Mario RPG completed. This was one of my favorite games from my childhood and I played the original several times so I had a pretty good memory of everything, and what took me by surprise is how faithful the developers were to the original. It was almost uncanny how identical everything was. For example, I don't think they changed the 90s translation at all, except for a few lines about the modernity of autosaving and Culex musing about how the party is 3D rendered whereas he's still a pixel. Even the choreography for the cutscenes were exact, down to how many times Mario would jump or Bowser would weep. Not a single dungeon was changed down to the layout or the positioning of the enemies. The game is basically as it was first published thirty years ago but for upgraded graphics.

However there are two parts they tweaked and it does affect gameplay: The first is the introduction of team attacks, and they are very powerful. The second and more important is you can switch your party members out mid-battle. Oh Geno is now a mushroom? We'll just replace him with Peach. The boss is weak to lightning? Time for Bowser to bow out in favor of Mallow. Instead of bringing only three people to the fight, you have the whole party.

Honestly I think Super Mario RPG has stood up to the test of time as a good game. If you want to relive your childhood, I'd say try this out. And if you've never played before and want to see what we had in the 90s, plop it into your Switch.

(Also, can I just say I'm blown away Yoko Shimomura made the track for this? Comparing it to Street Fighter II, Parasite Eve, and Final Fantasy XV, it's a completely different tone. I had her sign my original SNES cartridge, I think she was a bit surprised someone brought it.)

[denimbex1986]

'The second of Doctor Who’s 60th anniversary specials has arrived, delivered in almost total secrecy that did a lot to stoke fan speculation and theories. Not only were shots from this episode conspicuously few and far-between in the promotional material, no advance copies were made available to the press, which is why you might be reading this slightly later than normal.

Honestly, I’m still not sure what all the fuss was about. The need for secrecy, I mean. The fandom was absolutely stoked, of course, theorising and piecing together the words-not-spoken to create the expectation of a multi-Doctor, madcap romp befitting a 60th Anniversary Special. Get out of here, “The Day of the Doctor!” Fie on your lack of CGI Eccleston! This is clearly set aboard the Memory-TARDIS!

That… was not a thing that happened tonight. But before we get to that, it’s only right and proper to talk about the things this episode actually did accomplish, and there are quite a few of them.

Far from being a romp of multiple Doctors, companions, villains or anything else, this story was as close to a two-hander as we’ve had in a good long while. Perhaps Scott Handcock (welcome!) is already showing his Big Finish pedigree, since he served as script editor there for many years, but despite the truly lavish sets (and… well we’ll get to the VFX) this is very much a tale exploring how the Doctor and Donna relate to one another, in isolation, during their post ‘Doctor-Donna’ entanglement.

Let’s rewind a bit. The Isaac Newton pre-title sequence is cute, lifted slightly by the fact they change history and then keep saying “mavity” for the rest of the episode. (It’ll throw off every “Where to start with Doctor Who” video if that quirk sticks for the next 60 years.) Next, the Doctor and Donna arrive – well, smash themselves into – something that’s probably a spaceship, and an entity is clearly watching them while an emotionless, computerised voice says… “Fenslaw.” Fenslore? Trenzalore? Coleslaw? I dunno.

The TARDIS is gone, perhaps removed by the reactivation of its Hostile Activation Displacement System. (I could rant at length about the wisdom of this ‘feature’ even existing, but we’re on a ticking clock here. What is Den of Geek without its Doctor Who review?)

Whenever the voice speaks, the physical layout of the ship shifts. Panels turn, lights flicker, and it’s all a bit Event Horizon. This isn’t stopping the Doctor and Donna from summoning a tuk-tuk and heading down the Very Long Corridor, though, passing a Very Old Robot as they do until they get to the control room (for a life-form with a bum) and confirming that they are indeed on a spaceship. Not a starship, though, for there’s an astonishing lack of stars…

So. The tone of this episode, if we’re replaying the Tennant/Tate hits, is “Midnight”. It’s the unknowable, inscrutable aliens who function on blue-and-orange morality, and just like “Midnight”, they’re copycats. Unlike that episode, the fact that they can and will communicate, if only to predate and hasten their own agenda, somewhat robs them of their scary-factor.

This isn’t to suggest that there aren’t genuine chills to be had when we, gentle viewers, first realise that the Doctor and Donna aren’t really talking to one another as they start to fix the ship. But by the third-such encounter the conceit is starting to wear thin. You can only riff on “But only I would know, except then only YOU would know…” for so long.

The lengthy middle act is made up of a lot of this banter, and it’s a little too often that the imposters are revealed by weird, uncanny CGI arms or other distorted body parts, gangling, dangling and twisting in unnatural ways, rather than being found out through intellect. Sometimes the resultant transmogrification works, and sometimes (like when the fake-Doctor twists under his own torso and starts scuttling along like Zoidberg) there are chase scenes that harken back to “The Lazarus Experiment”, which was even in its time derided for being a bit visually crap. Giant tangled messes of Doctor/Donna parts with inflated features and Brobdingnagian grasping hands don’t help.

“Midnight” might have been right never to show us the monsters.

Lore-hounds will likely have sat bolt-upright and then been a bit saddened when Tennant’s usage of salt suggests that maybe, maybe this pair of nameless aliens are Vampires, the long-past enemy of the Time Lords, but this is not to be. And having discovered that the ship’s captain activated a very slow self-destruct (at the hands of the Very Old Robot) and with the nameless aliens inexorably as clued-in as our actual heroes, the race is on as to whether the teams will commandeer the ship, or destroy it and prevent the copycats’ threat from ever reaching our universe.

What really works in these final moments is the terror that the Doctor really did take the wrong Donna into the TARDIS before the ship exploded. Just for a moment, that feels like a sickening possibility. It’s also really undercut when we learn that he noticed a tiny, Sherlockian detail about Donna’s wrists that viewers would have been oblivious to, but then, that’s the Doctor for you. At least he didn’t lick her.

The TARDIS makes it back to Earth where – surprise AND delight! – we’re greeted by Bernard Cribbins, reprising his performance as Wilfred Mott in the one episode of this trilogy nobody predicted he’d show up in. It’s lovely to see him again, even if his role is a little expositional, and that’s us for this week.

I think the perception of this episode will change over time, once it’s divorced from hype and marketing and nestled in a long iPlayer/Disney+ list to be enjoyed in its turn. It is absolutely fine. There are some janky VFX (still Doctor Who, then) contrasting some glorious set design. Murray Gold’s score is stellar as always.

That said, I suspect the aggressive secrecy and resulting hype, which never quite got paid off, might salt the discourse – for this weekend, at least. But it’s understandable in hindsight! How can you show footage from a story that’s pretty much just two Doctors and two Donnas without spoiling the entire premise?

Even so, perhaps this particular outing might have been better served parked for Ncuti Gatwa and Millie Gibson, who could still have had genuine reason to distrust each other, trying to take the measure of their new travelling companion, rather than 15-years-long friends trying to catch one another out via trivia.

Viewed through the lens of a 60th Anniversary Special treated with over-the-top secrecy, this doesn’t quite work. It’s also too disconnected to form the middle act as a trilogy of ‘movies’, which is how Disney+ seems to be classifying them, if this is how we’re meant to be thinking of the Fourteenth Doctor’s arc. As a standalone story, I enjoyed it more, though it’s not likely to catapult itself into my top 10 thanks to a few too many variants on the central copycat dilemma...'

[deadn30n]

         IF  YOU  AREN'T  FAMILIAR  WITH  THE  LAYOUT  OF  THE  CITY,  traversing  Hellix  can  be  a daunting  task;  one  who's  end  almost  seemed  always  out  of sight.  those  who  came  from  neighboring  countries,  even  neighboring cities  were  prone  to  getting  lost  if  they  weren't  careful.  it's  why  it  was  always  advised  that  one  take  a map  with  them  when  they  decide  to  go  in,  and  it's  usually offered  firsthand  at  any  of  the  entry  points  leading  into  the  main  hub. 

         by  now  Solstice  themselves  was  practically  a native  of  the  city,  even  though  they  weren't  born  there;  they  weren't  even human.  but  so  much  time  had  been  spent  here  since  their  descent  from  the  celestial  road  that  this  place  was  like second  nature  to  them.  and  they knew  a  lost  person  when  they  saw  one.  the  man  wandering  aimlessly  nearby  was  no  resident;  he  bore  no  cybernetic  augmentations,  nor  an  A.I  companion  that  most  humans  were  seen  walking  with.  he  wasn't  even  wearing  the typical  attire  you'd  see  a  vast  majority  of  the  humans  wearing  here.  it's  a  long  shot,  and  perhaps  unwanted,  but  Solstice  deigns  the  right  decision  here  should  be  to help  him  if  they  can.  their  strides  are  nothing  like  they  used  to  be;  once  they  were jagged  and  uneven,  now  they  were graceful  and  more  convincing.  if  one  never  heard  Solstice's  true  voice,  they  would've  nevere  guessed  this  entity wasn't  human  to  begin  with. 

         but  as  they  spoke,  their uncanny  nature  became  apparent  in  the  mechanical  and  vaguely  distorted  nature  of  their  tone  of  voice.     ❝    are  you  lost  by  chance?     ❞    they  inquire  nonchalantly,  moving  so  that  they  stand  alongside  him,  rather  tha  in front  or  in back.  this  way  at  least  the  two  seem  as  equals.     ❝    if  you're  looking  for  somewhere  in  particular,  i  can  help  you  find  it.  would  you  like  me  to  consult  my  database?    ❞

✧ PLOTTED STARTER : @daemonry ☽

[444lpblue]

I have been waiting for a Kamikatsu PV for quite a long time. I think the manga is absolutely hilarious, and I was getting worried about the lack of a PV for its anime. When I first saw the trailer, I was hyped just because the PV had finally come out.

However, now that I am looking at it with clearer eyes, it seems like a pretty typical production, neither bad nor extremely good. In the first half, some parts still look weird to me, but I cannot put my finger on what exactly it is. Perhaps the layouts could have been better, especially in the first half. The characters' proportions do not seem to fit well with the perspective. At 0:21, Yukito's size compared to Aruaru looks off, and the weird shot at 0:23 with the fox looks completely off. It's a CG fox, I believe, but the shading just doesn't blend in at all.

The second half, on the other hand, is where it gets interesting. I like the show of the civilians being forced to drink the poison; it feels much more surreal than what is seemingly the norm of the show, and it almost gives an uncanny effect that I think works well. The scenes with Mitama from about 1:12 onwards show that the series will have more animation, at least more so than Sacrificial Princess. The cut at 1:15 looks good, and the sequence starting at 1:17 looks like it could have potential in full.

It's not going to be the best anime of the season for anyone, not even for me, but the PV at the very least confirms that it's not bottom of the barrel, and the production should be fine enough for the most part. I remain excited about the humor and fun that Mitama, our useless goddess, will get into, and I'm curious to see Studio Palette's first solo work in full. I will definitely be watching this in April 2023.

[buildingthegrandtour]

the unicorns are holding us hostage pt 4

<<<PREV

WAITING FOR THE DENOUMENT

My memory returned enough for me to place what had been missing all that time. The soulmate bond was not there, but I could picture Azeara’s flaming red hair and shimmering green eyes. I could remember the feeling aroused in me with Aricin’s touch.

At the present moment I was lying in the bed that I shared with Azeara over the years. I was surrounded by the pictures she kept boxed up, going through them slowly to make scrapbooks. She had been there not long before me, strands of her hair still settled on the bed.

I soon came face to face with Aricin, looking for me or so he said.

“How did you know to look here?”

“You’re a legend in both good and bad ways,” he answered.

“Not what I asked.”

“No, but you’ll do well to be reminded if you’re suicidal enough to come here.”

“I have yet to be spotted.”

Aricin moved the pictures off the bed and lay down next to me. Face to face he moved his arms around my waist to pull me closer. His breath was summer across my face, sending a shiver down my spine of cartilage. His hand stroked my hair and face, his smile making me melt like an ice cube in boiling water. It had been so long since I felt a hand touch me and my body needed this.

I felt a prickling on my forehead, pins and needles spreading through the marrow of my skull, seeping into the cells of my brain.

I jumped, eyes prying open in an uncanny speed to reveal a unicorn rearing its head away from me. I could feel the cut searing as the sticky red liquid dropped down the bridge of my nose and invaded the sight of my left eye.

Naturally, I resented the wake up call.

The unicorn brought me a bucket of the burial springs water. I dipped my bedside cup and disrobed to use my dress as a washcloth so I could heal from the rude awakening. I knew where this was headed.

The unicorn offered to restore everything lost.

“Everything?”

“Yes.”

What was the catch? The guards have come far too close to finding their safe space and needed me to help cull them to buy the unicorns’ some time. Of course I accepted.

“Let me get dressed,” I told the unicorn, sliding out of bed as I spoke.

Once I had my sartorial affairs in order and built an arsenal I could easily move around with, I was no longer in my sleeping quarters. I was taken to a glass elevator positioned above the center of the jewelry store where last I saw Aricin and Azeara.

I looked below me, studying the rhythm of the guards patrolling in the aisles. I wondered what the point of the elevators were, there was only one floor of the whole store. The second floor served as nothing more than a lookout, then there was just a ceiling. Odd layout for a place like this. Did not seem to have anything of strategic value, though as far as my memory reached during the recon missions, this was the central hub of activity.

Enid, it is time to focus.

Something in me felt different, and memories and emotions flooded through as though a levy in my mind had crumbled to pieces. The unicorn kept its word and gave me back E V E R Y T H I N G.  I could suddenly feel the soulmate bond forming like overlapping spiderwebs that could not be destroyed.

My focus shot straight to the guards committing every move, every placement to the trapdoor of my memory. A plan formed to get to the two people whose emotions I could feel through the glass and altitude. I teleported from place to place as I worked on the plan. Checking for any hidden guards, making a stop by the magically imbued baubles to gain any advantage. I could feel my soulmates but the bond was still new and I could not place their locations, so I kept an eye out for them as well.

I landed in an open area that looked to be used for target practice. Nobody had stayed behind, save for one guard that seemed to be studying the area where he stood as well as the area around us. I reached for an archery set and took careful aim.

Shoot to expose, not to kill. Knock the helmet off, little to the left, pull back and let it fly.

As the helmet knocked off, the face of Aricin was revealed. He ducked and reached for his throwing knives, ready to go into battle.

“At ease!” I shouted, revealing myself to him.

He smiled brightly when he saw me, and we ran to embrace each other. He kissed my cheeks, my forehead, my nose, and my lips

I placed pecks on his neck and stroked his back with one hand and his cheek with the other.

We could hear metal footfalls surrounding us, coming closer.

“Hold tight,” I told Aricin. “I have an idea.”

I returned us to the elevator, now descending. Most likely I had attracted attention and the guards wanted to look for us.

“I have some hex amulets,” I explained as I placed a bauble in the center of the back wall’s flooring. We left swiftly to watch from a corner.

The elevator made it to the bottom floor, paused, then then began to ascend. It did not get far before an explosion hit, leaving burning bodies on the floor.

My heart pounded like a hammer in my chest, then suddenly stopped. It felt as though my throat were blocked and I was unable to breathe. When my functions returned they worked overtime as though trying to catch up, and I felt detached as my mind retreated from the ruckus.

“What just happened?” I demanded of Aricin. He did not respond. “Aricin, tell me what just happened to me!”

His face was ashen, a walking dead man reaching out to calm me.

“Enid, don’t go anywhere.”

And with those words I knew that something was dreadfully, irrevocably wrong.

I went back to the elevator and saw piled on top of the guards’ bodies was Azeara. Flames still licked the edges of her clothes, her seared flesh muddled with the scent of the other deaths.

And my whole world stopped.

The unfortunate thing about hex amulets was that there was no way for it to differentiate between ally and enemy. Azeara had been caught in the crossfire of my trap, and a piece of me had died with her in that moment.

NEXT >>>

[hectormcfilm]

Scene recreation plan- FINAL DECISION

Recently my group had a meeting to decide on what film scene to recreate, we went in with 3 potential ideas we all thought were strong and achievable. Each of the three options had pros and cons:

BEFORE SUNRISE

This scene was definitely in a close second in our options and was nearly the option we went for. This is a very nice and wholesome scene which would mean recreating its effect would be simple enough but also engaging for the audience as even though it is only a two minute extract viewers can get emotionally attached to the quirky characters. This would be perfect for casting actors as the characters are close enough to our age we could use acting students at Napier university. The costumes are very simple, Ethan Hawke just wearing a grey T-shirt exemplifying that. The shots are mostly just shot reverse-shot of the two characters speaking which is good to replicate authentically. The main issues we ran into would be the location, we would not only need to find a restaurant that would allow us to film but also one with similar if not the same soft sequined chairs. We would also need extras int he background which requires more actors. We thought of maybe green screening the background, adding the extras in post as when analysing the scene more it feels like the extras are fake and not actually there, there's a weird uncanniness and blurriness to them.

SE7EN

This was more of a wild card scene as we hadn't put much pre-planning into this idea before pitching it to our lecturer. The scene seems simple enough with three actors chatting around a dinner table however there are some VERY complicated aspects. Shockingly the shaking room itself isn't the most difficult part. The vibrating effect could be created partially in post, especially on the close up shots. In wide shots we could definitely have multiple crew members under the tables or behind the doors simply shaking the props in a very guerrilla filmmaking style. It would b difficult but would look very impressive if achieved successfully. Costumes are all simple but unique and different, Morgan Freeman's character standing out in formal attire. However, the difficult part of this scene is the production design, to start with we would need to find a house with a similar layout like the glass doors, then we would need to set the table with lots of food and drinks, costing the crew quite a lot and requiring tedious detail of where everything is on the table. Finally the background details of the desk and lamps in the next room would probably have to be green-screened.

THE LIGHTHOUSE

This is the scene we ended up deciding on as a group for a few reasons. To start off with we feel it has the clearest atmosphere and feel to replicate. The most important priority of the task is replicating the atmosphere and the tense but manic energy of the Lighthouse will not only be fun to film but hopefully clear to the audience. The location is mostly obscured with blacked-out windows and mostly tight mid to close-up shots. We will need to make the window out of black cardboard and buy a plant pot and lamp without a shade for set dressing. We will attempt to use pool noodles painted black for the bed frame and throw a cover over a cardboard box which will hopefully create the illusion of a bed. The main difficulty with this scene is getting an actor of the age and gravitas of Willam Defoe which may be a struggle. We also need to find a good location with wooden flooring and walls, we have some options but need to narrow down to the best and most accurate.

[htao-des]

Week 6 Tech Capstone

This week the main focus is on prototyping and to acquire feedback from classmates. Prototyping includes wireframing, sketching and character design for the virtual character. These prototypes would allow me to gain feedback from classmates so I can work on the high fidelity prototype over the mid semester break.

From the secondary research, an app would be the better option for this capstone due to feasibility and accessibility. To create an app, the basic wireframe has to be mapped out first.

The app layout is heavily inspired by Instagram and Discord. The first line is the registration page and the landing page, for new users to sign up. The second line involves all the functions within the home page and the third line is the AI chat function. This helped me visualize the UX/UI of the app, but further feedback is required to iterate upon this, personally the page number can be a bit much especially for a prototype to present and may cause the user to be confused.

Next I did some sketching for possible virtual characters, I began by brainstorming possible characters. I eventually settle for hedgehog, plant, chameleon, robot, human.

Hedgehog and chameleon were chosen due to their expressive nature, the hedgehog would erect their spikes in self defense and chameleon change color base on mood. These features can be used in the app to indicate danger or threat, maybe if the user uses too much self deprecation or has a threatening tone, or maybe is simply going through tough times and want to share the sentiment with someone (i.e. feel sad together). The robot idea did not go far due to complexity and their functions can be replace by other characters. The plant idea is that it will grow faster if the user is happy (go outside? no sad tone?) for x amount of days. Human idea is still under progress and would be the most difficult to develop (most difficult to get right due to uncanny valley effect). Overall, feedback is required for iteration.

I have made a start to the survey, the survey began with ethics section and follow by the explanation of the project. All avatars above would be shown along with other preexisting ones, this would allow for comparison between industry standard avatars and more unique avatars, as well as showing the preference of the public. The survey is WIP.

[classicbuildernz]

Show Homes: Unlocking The Secrets To Perfect Property Presentation

Welcome to the world of show homes, where the art of presentation meets the power of imagination. In this blog, we will take you on a journey through the enchanting realm of show homes in Auckland and explore their significance in the real estate market.

Discover how these meticulously designed spaces captivate potential buyers and showcase the full potential of a property.

The Power Of First Impressions

They say you never get a second chance to make a first impression, and show homes Auckland embody this sentiment perfectly. These immaculately staged spaces create an instant visual impact, leaving potential buyers spellbound from the moment they step inside. From the carefully chosen furniture to the thoughtfully curated decor, every detail is orchestrated to evoke a sense of awe and inspiration.

Show homes serve as a blank canvas, allowing potential buyers to envision themselves living in the space and cultivating an emotional connection. The power of first impressions cannot be underestimated, as it sets the tone for the entire property viewing experience and influences buyer perceptions of value, quality, and desirability.

Creating The WOW Factor

What sets show homes apart from regular properties? It's the undeniable WOW factor they exude. Show home designers possess an innate ability to transform empty or outdated spaces into breathtaking showcases of style and sophistication. They understand the importance of creating an emotional impact and strive to make every room a memorable experience.

From luxurious finishes and high-end materials to trendy colour schemes and exquisite lighting, show homes are a testament to the latest design trends and cutting-edge aesthetics. They inspire potential buyers by demonstrating the full potential of the property and presenting it in the best possible light.

Tapping Into Buyer Aspirations

Show homes have an uncanny ability to tap into the aspirations and dreams of potential buyers. They embody a lifestyle that buyers aspire to achieve, whether it's a cosy suburban retreat, a modern urban oasis, or a grand and opulent mansion. By presenting a carefully curated vision, show homes help buyers envision themselves living the life they desire.

These spaces are designed to highlight the functionality, flow, and versatility of a property. They showcase the possibilities and potential that exist within the walls, encouraging buyers to imagine their own lives unfolding in these captivating spaces.

Show homes transcend mere physical structures; they represent a promise of a better, more fulfilling life.

Inspiring Interior Design Trends

Show homes are at the forefront of interior design trends, serving as an endless source of inspiration for homeowners and designers alike. From open-concept living areas and sleek kitchen designs to serene bedroom retreats and luxurious bathroom sanctuaries, show homes push boundaries and set new standards in interior design.

These trendsetting spaces introduce buyers to innovative concepts, materials, and layouts that they may not have considered before. They provide valuable insights into current design preferences, colour palettes, and decorative elements.

Whether it's a bold statement wall, a chic and functional home office, or an inviting outdoor living area, show homes Auckland inspire homeowners to elevate their own spaces and stay ahead of the design curve.

Conclusion

In the realm of real estate, show homes are the epitome of perfection and inspiration. They harness the power of presentation, tap into buyer aspirations, and showcase the latest design trends. These enchanting spaces captivate potential buyers, allowing them to visualise their dreams and see the true potential of a property.