hello! may i request for a reaction/interaction for the sparda boys about having an s/o who is an artist? (for drawing reasearch and ideas teehee)
Ohoho coming right up!
Sparda boys x Artist!Reader headcannons
¤ Dante ¤
-The day he discovered you were an artist was the day you gained a permanent, constantly willing model.
-Always wants you to draw him, no matter what time of day it is. He'll wake you up at 3:00 A.M. because he just put together the most badass outfit he's ever seen and wants you to sketch him in it. (Except it's the same outfit he always wears)
-The drawings you make of him hold more worth than museum art pieces in his eyes.
-Buys you sketchbooks, art supplies and whatever you need whenever he can afford them.
-To him, you are more talented than da Vinci. Not that he knows who da Vinci is, because according to him, you're the best artist in the world.
-Follows you on all your social medias and likes your every post.
■ Vergil ■
-Hangs your art up everywhere like a proud dad; the fridge can now barely be opened because there are so many drawings attached to it.
-He will (with your help) download any digital drawings and use them for a variety of purposes, such as his home screen on his phone, lock screen, etc.
-If you just gift him drawings of himself he will tear up with sentimantality and hastily excuse himself so he can go cry in private.
-Also buys you art supplies, paints, and whatnot whenever you need them.
-If he wasn't such a boomer, he'd follow your social medias too but unfortunately, he is tech-inept, so he can't.
-Loves watching you draw just as much as he enjoys looking at your drawings.
□ Nero □
-Normally, Nero isn't all that into art and really doesn’t care for it, but when you came along, all that changed.
-Now he's suddenly super interested in it and wants to watch you draw or have you teach him to draw whenever he's free.
-He's no Picasso, but he can at least manage a couple of funny looking stick men.
-Really into painting now, mostly because he can use the various attachments on his arm to make different patters on the paper. Yes, this is a complicated way to say he finger paints with his prosthetic arm.
-Any sketches you do of him, any at all, will go into his wallet unless you want to keep them for yourself.
-His wallet is now packed to the brim with folded up pictures of him that you drew, so whenever he's away on a long mission, he can stare at them and remember his badass S/O drew that for him.
● V ●
-You're an artist? V's perfect for you--he's a writer.
-He will write poems about whatever you draw; they're usually short limericks describing the image, praising your talent, or both.
-Looking at your latest masterpieces is the highlight of his day because they inspire him to write more poems.
-Calls you his "Magnificent artist".
-Shows your art to his familiars, who all agree (except Griffon, of course, he always has something to yap about) that it's quite nice.
-Is pleasantly surprised whenever he finds sketches/paintings/drawings of himself and is honored to be your muse.
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The dance of the devi
Flowers for the goddess
in my alta-dyed hands,
I offer them at the lotus feet
of the Mother of the Universe.
***
Gentle blues of the skies move out
And Surya slowly rises from slumber
in its captivating regal glory,
its golden rays adorning
the Devi’s forehead.
***
I behold the golden complexioned goddess
set in stone with a benevolent smile.
My anklets lay at her feet
with turmeric and vermillion coating
some of those melodious bells.
***
A sweet summer breeze blows by.
A bell jingles and a lotus from her garland
falls to the brown earth at my dust laden feet.
A jingle of bangles and anklets,
A low hum of a mysterious yet beautiful tune,
And a voice sings,
A voice that I can recognize anywhere –
The Devi has risen!
***
Draped in silks and gold,
fragrant garlands around her limbs,
She steps outside to my courtyard,
A very humble stage for the one
who is the abode of this entire Universe.
The sun makes her ornaments gleam,
yet her moon-like face is the brightest.
My anklets are around her feet
But what truly do I own
in this illusionary world?
What I receive –
Beauty, intelligence, riches and power,
All comes from her.
***
And by the bright yellows of dawn
I see her dance in my courtyard.
Wherever her feet travel, little blooms arise
and where her hands softly touch,
Golden dust flies.
She twirls round and round
And I see the might cosmic Gods
Swirling around her magnificence.
Her veil, the illusionary veil,
which she playfully casts
around this world
escapes the clutches
of her beautiful braided hair.
And now I see. Clearly.
***
She leaps into the air,
Resembling a warrior
and a warrior she is,
for she is the Devi,
The ferocious Bhairavi,
The invincible Durga,
the slayer of Mahishasura.
She is the dark one, Kali,
The slayer of Raktabija.
***
Her dance of grace and elegance
transforms to a dance of death and destruction.
She is Shivatrinayani and Maheshwari.
She leaps and twirls with her trident
and her anklets and the temple bells ring
harmoniously,
Just like the eternal forces of nature.
Devi is Nitya, the eternal one.
***
I, a mere mortal woman, a devotee
akin to the turmeric and vermillion on her feet
watch the goddess dance in all her glory.
I see all the worlds and this vast universe
dance with her,
And maybe it is really true:
That everything in the world dances.
Laasya performs in every object,
in the largest to the very smallest.
***
And then I see the radiant one
stretch her palm to me.
I see my world in her hand
And clasp her hand tightly.
Which daughter lets go of her mother’s hand?
So we dance.
***
Stars and galaxies, planets and cosmic bodies,
Fire and snow, gods, demons and mortals,
I see her in everything
And this is the Dance of Realisation.
The music, the drums and the bells slowly fade
But the dancing soul now awakened
dances in ecstasy.
I see, I hear, I dance, I understand everything now.
***
The Devi twirls, spins, sings, smiles and laughs
And finally heads to her abode, to Shiva, her life.
My life, a thread in her hands,
I now submit to her eternal play
of this Life’s Dance.
***
I haven't written poetry in a while now. Somehow I couldn't capture this in a story format, it felt bland and very large and long. I didn't like it. The poem format perhaps gives me a little peace to form the vision I once had a few years ago while meditating on the goddess. I will obviously edit this later for the book, but for now here's the first draft poem for the book
Tagging: @swayamev @indiansapphic @jukti-torko-golpo (big thank you to you for the devi content!) @navaratna @rhysaka @krishna-priyatama @krsnaradhika @inexhaustible-sources-of-magic @alhad-si-simran @ramcharantitties @kaal-naagin
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