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nekocreations · 4 years

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Hello out there, cats and kittens! Today we’re going to do something a little different. Sure, we could show you another finished work (no we couldn’t, the holidays are so busy this month that I’m strictly focused on private commissions right now) but where’s the fun in that? So instead we’ve decided to answer some of the questions we get when I’m working on one of my wackier pieces. We’re calling it a behind the work in progress interview. Currently, when I have that precious non-existent free time I’ve been working on something we’re loosely calling Snot Bubbles right now. My darling minion Lily Kroupa conducted the interview and my art senpai Tiia Kristiina Rissanen (http://kitaangel.net/) helped with the questions. Q: Where and when did you get started on this piece? A: This piece I’ve been working on for a few weeks now and by work I mean I poke it with my magic art stick every few days cause right now it’s holiday time and I don’t get as much time to work on personal art as I’d like. Overall, if we take out the days I haven’t been able to touch it I’d say I’ve been working on it for 4 or 5 days. I started it in my winter nest. Mostly I work at a standing desk- better for the body and less cats to wade through, but I tend to hurt a lot in the winter so unless it needs 100% of my focus I’ve been sitting in a pile of blankets and aforementioned cats. Sometimes the cats are my table. Q: What is the target audience for our site? Who is your stuff for? A: Well, my art is targeted at younger individuals- not kids initially, but say 12 to 30-somethings. People who have dealt with traumas and need light and whimsy in their lives. people who need the weird stuff because their normal isn’t anyone else’s. I’ll never be really good at explaining that. Our site in relation to that is directed also at the 12 to 30-ish crowd that I tend to meet at conventions. Nerds and fans. Creators who are passionate about the things they see that make them make noises. Our site is also on some level targeted to parents because a lot of our stuff appeals to kids. Q: What do you think those people would enjoy learning about? A: I feel like they’d like to learn that they are indeed my target audience, that while a lot of it is directed at the nerd community and seems to be made for kids, in the end, it’s really made for people who’ve found an escape from the darkness through imagination. People who are willing to leave their bodies behind for the safety of the worlds in their minds. Q: If you could take a specific part to use as a new creation inspired by this art piece, which section would you choose? A: The drippy, splashing rainbow. I love drawing things with drips, they’re something meditative about planning out what gravity would and could do with things like that. Splashing though is more chaotic, still follows gravity of course but you can’t plot it on the fly quite as well as a raindrop for example. I feel like I need more practice with that and it’s like a game I can play while I work. Choosing where I can make places messy is also fun and I want to do more of that. Q: Why is the most difficult part of combining so many elements into a single composition? A: Keeping track of them all. Sometimes when I work on a piece with a lot of different elements I’ll keep them on completely separate layers (if it’s digital like this) or I’ll sketch the different bits in different colors cause it can all get tangled up in my brain. For example, I didn’t want the fish all clustered together but I knew I was going to have to draw them before the rainbow- which in turn would affect where they would go so the fish had to be drawn completely separate so I could move them around as I added other elements. The rainbow itself was something difficult to keep track of. As it bends and twists around the piece the colors need to show up in different areas. It’s like twisting a ribbon. I had to number each color area in the sketch just so I could keep track of where they would be as it was turned this way and that. Well, that’s all for now, darlings. Do you have any questions you’d like to add to this? https://nekocreations.com/a-behind-the-work-in-progress-interview/? https://www.facebook.com/NekoCreations/photos/a.439661946078594/2834140799964018/?type=3

#Nekocreations

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wonwoomi · 7 years

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SILENT NIGHT.

📅 23RD DECEMBER, 2016.

( tw !! death, graveyards, death threats, murder, suicide, child abuse, child neglect, strangulation, starvation, funerals, violence )

there’s a distinct bitterness to the winter air tonight. this close to christmas, wonwoo wouldn’t ordinarily be anywhere besides bed, but after finding himself with empty pockets at the beginning of december, overtime had to become the norm in order to afford his favourite holiday. the days become longer — at least, it feels that way — the nights shorter, and he longs for five more minutes every morning to stay where he belongs and craves to be, tangled up between sheets and warm limbs, room barely lit because even the sun isn’t awake yet— why must I be?

the change in direction is almost automatic; he barely has to think about the site before his feet are already carrying him there, steps careful against icy pavements. the open gates invite him in, familiar sight of one particular gravestone almost comforting at this point. he sits down before it, reaches out to throw away a few fallen leaves littering the display. “don’t say I don’t take good care of you, asshole.” he mumbles, drying his fingers on his jeans. they’re already soaked, after all. he should’ve known he’d get his ass wet plonking it down on the grass in the middle of winter, but it doesn’t matter. he can just throw them in the wash when he gets home, whenever that will be. he doesn’t plan to stay long, but god knows he gets talkative in the presence of his oldest brother.

“jeongwoo, jeongwoo, jeongwoo. can you believe it’s just passed three years since you left this world?” he brushes his hair back with slender fingers, laughs quietly. “three blissful years.” a long breath is drawn in, sighed out. “you probably hate when I visit; all I talk about is how dead you are, but I can’t help it— it brings me so much joy.” a plant pot sits upon the gravel, in the same spot as always. this time, it’s zinnias, white, and wonwoo runs his thumb over a few petals, one by one, and smiles. “life is really good right now, like— I thought there was nothing more satisfying, more pleasurable, than watching the life drain out of your eyes, but this, oh man— everything I dreamed of as a child... it’s all coming true. I have everything I’ve ever wanted—” he’s cut off by happiness. it overwhelms him in the best way, warm giggles bubbling up his throat and spilling out from chapped lips. he thinks of mingyu at home, curling up together under the covers for the night, taking an extra half an hour to fall asleep because kissing, pressing cold hands against warm skin and vice versa, are far more important.

he doesn’t think anything can really wipe the lovestruck grin off his face. he doesn’t really consider the possibility of anyone.

“w-won-wonwoo?”

his bones click as he twists, a soft hiss leaving his lips both at the stinging pain and the sight in front of him. the older’s build has always been larger than his — whose isn’t — and whilst very little (and certainly not any of them), scares wonwoo, he is at least glad it’s this bastard and not the other one. (he bitterly notes that he should’ve killed all of them, but he knows it wouldn’t have felt nearly as satisfying as just the one.)

“what the fuck are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question.” fair. wonwoo grunts, massaging the back of his neck with numb, frozen fingers. “you—.”

“are you going to sit down, or are you going to fucking stand there and pretend you don’t have a million dumb ass things you want to say to me?”

silently, he sits. wonwoo can tell he’d given the gap between them a lot of thought, shifting his weight between each foot before deciding he was a ‘safe distance’ away from the youngest jeon. he hits the ground with a soft thud, and collects his hands together in front of him, nervously rubbing his thumbs against one another. on the flipside, wonwoo slouches comfortably, arms stretching above his head to will away a little fatigue.

“this is weird.”

wonwoo scoffs, “three years and you haven’t gained even a shred of maturity; incredible, hyunwoo. I commend you.”

“three years and you haven’t gained even a shred of manners; inc—”

“you really make this far too fucking easy for me.” interrupting him feels natural, an action a younger wonwoo would have been met with a hard punch for. hyunwoo twitches, and wonwoo muses that old habits die hard and smiles smugly as shaky fingers retreat. “how does it feel knowing I’m right here? right here in front of you, arms length away, and you can’t lay a finger on me? I can understand now, why you loved to hurt me. pain, suffering... they’re so fulfilling.”

hyunwoo swallows hard. “I’m not going to touch you; you can fucking breathe. don’t ruin everything I worked for by forgetting to breathe and killing yourself, you piece of shit.”

“you’re the real scum here, you know that?” the older’s words are laced with venom, but wonwoo’s dealt with poison far too much by now for it to make any difference to him. instead, he laughs wholeheartedly, head thrown back in delight, eyes twinkling.

“wow, you got me. I don’t know how I sleep at night knowing that I’m scum — you’re such a fucking wet paper towel. I think it’s clear who the real disappointment to the jeon family is here. swear at me, asshole. how can you spend fifteen years pummelling me and then sit here, unable to say the word ‘shit’ to my face without cowering? are you really that scared of me?” the other says nothing else, but the silence speaks for itself. it’s broken by more laughter, the kind that crinkles wonwoo’s nose ever so slightly, and that has his hand reaching up to cover his grin. “fucking hell. life just keeps getting better and better. alright. lay it on me. ask me why I’m here.”

he hesitates, but eventually sighs, forcing out through gritted teeth, “what are you doing here, wonwoo?”

“why! that’s an excellent question, hyunwoo, I’m glad you asked— I am here to talk to the jeon’s little star, their pride and joy, golden boy jeon jeongwoo! loved by all!”

“you’re still bitter after all these years? he’s gone— because of you, and you’re still hung up on the fact that you could never be their favourite?” once wonwoo meets his eyes, it’s easy to tell that he regrets ever opening his mouth, but wonwoo only raises an eyebrow. it’s almost reassuring to see him bark a little, instead of sit with his tail between his legs.

“if you think I give two shits about being the favourite son, then you really are as fucking stupid as I remember.” it’s hyunwoo’s turn to grunt, and wonwoo matches it with an ungentlemanly snort. “I didn’t deserve the treatment I got, but jeongwoo being the favourite had no effect on that. they could’ve still loved him the most and not neglected me until I starved half to death and beat me until my skin was more purple than anything else. all of you could.” he sucks in a sharp breath, leaning back on his hands until he remembers the moisture in the ground, shuffling to arch his back instead, wiping his palms on his jeans once more.

“you think I regret anything I did after what you did?”

“no,” wonwoo answers, smoothly, without a moment of hesitation, “and I don’t regret anything you did either, because I am a billion times better off now than I could ever have been if you hadn’t all turned out to be vile scum — yes, I’m mocking you.” the older tuts, and wonwoo laughs, soft, breathy. “I still hate you, by the way. just because I don’t have my hands around your neck doesn’t mean I don’t still think you deserve to die. I just think that that would be too easy. being alive is far more insufferable. knowing you’re all out there, suffering, missing him— you wouldn’t believe the satisfaction it gives me. karma is a bitch.”

hyunwoo clicks his tongue, wriggling a little further away. his eyes widen as wonwoo reaches out to the stone, breath held as the younger traces his fingers over the death date.

“you know, the funeral was the first time — that I can remember, at least — that those two bastards didn’t go all out for jeongwoo. I was expecting them to invite the whole city to mourn with them, with fucking-- horses delivering the coffin and a fucking brass band or something.”

“mother wanted to grieve alone—”

“oh, please, don’t be fucking stupid. that bitch loved to be drowned in attention. she was fucking embarrassed because she knew she was responsible for what happened. she killed her golden boy. the both of them did. you did. seungwoo did.”

“you did this.”

“you did this,” he counters, long finger pointed firmly at himself, “and you’re naive to think otherwise.”

the silence between them is almost stifling. wonwoo tugs at grass, sprinkles it back down to the ground absentmindedly as he stares at the night sky. how long have I been here now? mingyu is probably worried. his ass and the back of his legs are soaked through to the bone, and a shiver wracks his body as he breathes out heavily.

“you gonna tell anyone what you saw here today?” he asks softly. he’s not worried if he does. after all, this interaction has only proved that his birth family are still petrified of him despite three long years passing. he’s more curious than anything else.

“no.” hyunwoo pauses, “I don't know what you're capable of doing to me if I do. you said you wouldn’t kill me, and I don’t know if I can trust that, but even so, I dread to think what you could do to me alive, still.”

“oh, the things I could do.” he draws in a deep breath, bright smile playing on his lips. “don't tell anyone about this,” he picks up the small flower pot and cradles it between his hands, “either. I take it the bitch buys them.”

“mother buys them.” he answers firmly.

“she has good taste in flowers, at least. these are zinnias— a member of the daisy family. in white, they mean ‘pure goodness’, which is ironic as hell, actually.”

“jeongwoo wasn’t a bad person. neither am I. neither was seungwoo, mother, father—”

“oh, fucking spare me, hyunwoo!.” he groans, finally losing the temper he’d done his best to repair over the past month. it’s been a while since he felt this much rage— since the day mingyu burnt himself, actually. he flinches at the memory as his fingernails dig into his palms. “you all spent seventeen years beating me almost to death, leaving me locked in a room filled with reminders that you never wanted me— you kept me around just so you’d have someone, something, to blame for all the shit that went wrong in your lives. you kept me around for your own entertainment, to fuel your egos and to feel powerful. good people don’t fucking do that. I’m not a good person either; I never claimed to be, but you can’t possibly sit there and tell me you, them— child abusers and power hungry fools — are good people.”

“you deserved it.”

“do you want me to fucking bury you right here next to him? hell, I’ll put you in the coffin with him. don’t fucking test me.” hyunwoo gulps once more. “I don’t know why I’m wasting my time here with you. it’s like talking to a fucking brick wall— I dread to think what talking to seungwoo is like nowadays. although, he was always the smarter one, and even then, ‘smart’ is generous.” he begs his anger to subside, takes even breaths and thinks of the things he loves; mingyu, noodles, sleeping, and it works, at least enough that he doesn’t scream when the older opens his mouth again.

“you still haven’t told me exactly why you’re here.”

“I like talking to him.” he admits. it’s not difficult; wonwoo has no shame, no regrets. hyunwoo clearly hadn’t changed, still believed that being a mistake meant he deserved to suffer, so wonwoo wouldn’t be anything but brutally honest, too. “I have a lot of difficulties managing my anger, and being able to freely express my hatred and my worries, and to tell jeongwoo how fucking beautiful my life has been ever since he fucked off to hell is really, really satisfying.”

“I hope you pay for the things you’ve done to our family. I hope one day karma finally catches up to you— for ruining our reputation, for wasting our time, and our efforts, for—”

wonwoo shakes his head. “I won’t pay — not anymore. you did a great job of making sure I paid when I was young. now it’s my turn to live. it’s my turn to put you assholes behind me and live my life the way I want to; to be more than the mistake you never wanted. and it’s your turn to move on. it’s time to accept your losses — I’ve accepted mine — and get on with your lives.”

“you—”

“no.” he interrupts sternly. “I’ve been paid. you made sure I regretted ever being born, and I did. I hated myself so much, believing that it was my fault I ever existed. the most dangerous parts of me blossomed in the darkness, and I became the man I am today — the man I’m proud to be. I’m glad you beat me, even if I didn’t deserve it. I accept my punishment. it’s about time you accepted yours. losing jeongwoo made us even. now it’s time to get on with our lives. we parted ways three years ago, and I shouldn’t have sought solace in a place I knew you could find me, and for that, I’m sorry.” he can’t pinpoint where it’s come from, but slowly, his body begins to tremble and his heart begins to race, and he can feel all the hits on his skin all over again. facing this, talking about the past with someone who was part of it isn’t as easy as he expected it to be — as he’d been making it look. he tightens his grip on the plant pot, moves to rise to his feet, but doesn’t quite push himself up just yet. “I won’t be coming back here again, so the bitch can sleep easy knowing no more of her plants are going to disappear. it’s good to see you again, to be reminded why I could never regret what I did. thanks for being the shittiest brothers in the world. without you, I wouldn’t have the life I have now, and I can’t think of any reality where I could be any happier. I hope one day you can find a little happiness, too — just... not until you’re like eighty or something; I still want to you to suffer for a long time yet, even if I don’t care to be around to see it.” he hums, standing up. dizziness hits for a moment, and he rubs his temples gently to keep it at bay. “fuck, I’m getting a headache.”

“I hope you ge—”

“yeah, yeah, I know. you hope I die, or some shit. don’t worry. one day, I will, just not for a very long time. I have things to live for now. you should find some of those, too, instead of living bitterly in the past.” he turns away, ready to leave, patting down his jeans until they hang a little better on his thin legs. “goodnight, hyunwoo. I hope I never see your ugly face ever again unless it’s in the obituary in the local paper. don’t tell anyone I was here or I will stuff you all into jeongwoo’s coffin. that’s a promise.” (and god knows wonwoo never breaks his promises.)

warmth fills his body the moment he steps through the apartment door, and he’s kicking his shoes off when he feels familiar, warm hands on his pink cheeks, concern etched on the older’s soft features. it’s easy to tell, at least to mingyu, that something isn’t right with the smaller, and it’s not long before they’re tucked in a cocoon of blankets on the sofa, wonwoo’s ear against mingyu’s chest, matching his breathing to the rhythmic thump of his boyfriend’s heartbeat.

“I’ve been visiting jeongwoo’s grave since last summer.” he mumbles in the silence, “I saw hyunwoo there today. he... hasn’t changed. none of them have.” mingyu’s right thumb rubs against wonwoo’s back, his left hand buried in his hair, massaging gently. wonwoo’s far past the shakiness, slight panic even, that he’d felt as he realised it was time to leave — how couldn’t he be when he is right where he feels safest, held in a way that makes him feel most content? “he told me I deserved everything they did. he didn’t say much else. I tried to... tell him the truth. make him see that what he did to me wasn’t right, wasn’t fair, but he didn’t listen. and the longer I stuck around, the more I realised that all this time, I hadn’t had any closure. I felt like I had achieved what I wanted in the long run, but I had no proof. but seeing that he hadn’t changed, that they still suffer every day just like they have since the day I was born, gave me that. but also... seeing him was difficult. I didn’t make it known, because I want him to continue to fear me— I want them to stay away from me, but it reminded me of how it felt to spend such long hours feeling nothing but the numbness inside growing with every fist that made impact and—” he sighs contently, unable to do anything else when mingyu starts pressing kisses all over his face, lingering ones meeting his nose and the centre of his forehead.

“you’re safe now.”

“of course I am. my big, strong boyfriend wouldn’t dare let anything happen to me.” he smiles, wriggling to shyly tuck his nose into mingyu’s neck to hide the way it crinkles. “I love you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. also, all those flowers that I kept bringing home were off his grave— the zinnias I brought home today, too.”

“wonwoo.”

“what? they’re pretty!”

#ww.solo #ww.family #( just to be safe; please do not read if anything related to any of the listed triggers upsets you! )#( I tried to cover everything but just to be safe ♥ )#( ily all ♥ )#tw: death #tw: graves #tw: graveyards #tw: death threats #tw: murder #tw: suicide #tw: child abuse #tw: child neglect #tw: strangulation #tw: strangling #tw: starvation #tw: funerals #tw: violence #( wc; 3102 )

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