#having a fluid state of being and if anyone sees you in a form which makes present your godliness they are mentally

[yessirplease69]

❝Domain Expansion: Love❞

Synopsis: You are Gojo Satoru's only weakness. When the bearer of the Six Eyes discerns that your life is in jeopardy, he will do everything to keep you safe.

෴ Content: husband!gojo satoru × wife!reader, jujutsu society, sorcerer!reader, angst, fluff, sensitive content, bloodshed, suggestive (mature content), satoru gojo!yandere, this takes place shortly before the shibuya incident arc, reader has a maternal relationship with megumi, pregnancy. ෴ Word Count: 3.4K

Satoru Gojo is the most powerful jujutsu sorcerer in existence. However, the moment he sees you, his beautiful wife, unconscious on the battlefield with nearly incurable wounds, this man's world crumbles completely. Suddenly, all of his physical and mental energy is being drained, even his enthusiasm to exorcise curses vanishes. He is motionless in place, trembling enough with wide eyes under the black blindfold, and even though they are hidden, they scrutinize all the blood leaving different parts of your body. Minutes ago, there was a stupid and arrogant smile shaping the face of the confident man all the time as he killed horrendous creatures. A countenance of terror overtakes his face now. He feels his legs weakening, his feet seem to be too far from the ground, and he remembers that he is not manipulating the space to make it levitate. He is feeling weak for not having been able to arrive in time to protect you, this emotion has intertwined with him. Especially since Satoru Gojo never even had a weakness until you came into his life.

His heart is beating rapidly and his breath is so intense that all the curses around him are impacted by the reaction of the mighty man among them. Time frenetically ceases as the strong cursed technique is creating an invisible barrier in the air and continues to repel the malevolent creatures that persist in their futile attempt to touch the bearer of Mukagen and Rokugan, while he himself is left vulnerable like a puppy that has just lost its owner.

Didn't she use the reverse cursed technique to stay healed?

Why...

"Satoru." The presence and hesitant voice of Nanami become noticeable at a certain distance. The tie-wearing sorcerer clenches his jaw, too tense as he sees you in a deplorable state. Nanami fails to try not to show all his agony. Witnessing one of his closest friends on the brink of death equals the feeling of having his heart cut with the cursed blade he carries.

Amid the scene, Satoru is lowering the blindfold covering his eyes, the white locks of hair cascading as the black cloth falls. The fabric hangs on his neck before revealing the orbs, the bright blue darkening as a storm brews within them. A lost and distressed gaze is exposed on his face, as if you somehow took his emotions along with you.

"My wife shouldn't be on that suicide mission." The tone of voice of the Jujutsu High teacher is harsh, firm in the way he usually imposes on a very serious subject. A power which makes the walls vibrate when he is arguing with Gakuganji. He is so angry.

As he melancholically walks towards you, the semi-grade 1 curses around him are exploded in a matter of seconds. There are parts of physical structures scattered and fluids like blood painting the ground at this moment, justified by the power of his ability to manipulate space.

"I should've just isolated her from the world, maybe locked her on the 15th floor of a building and then acted as if I didn't do that." A small sad smile forms on the edge of his mouth, he is imagining how you would laugh at this idea if you were conscious now. You would probably find it absurd and put him to sleep on the couch.

Damn, he misses you and wonders why it hurts so much. His intention is to act quickly to take you to the jujutsu sorcerer doctors and stay by your side the whole time while they are taking care of you. He will not leave you for even a minute, and those are the words of Gojo Satoru against anyone. If someone dares to touch you right in front of him, he will definitely be willing to kill.

The strongest sorcerer abandons these thoughts, he does not hesitate to carefully wrap his arms around your body, holding you close to his chest. The man notices the wounds on parts of your face, your jujutsu uniform is dirty with blood and so destroyed, revealing your naked skin. The sweet taste on his tongue is bitter now, his mind can only focus on the fact that you suffered from fighting until you could not take it anymore. You resisted too much because of your undeniable strength, and on one hand he feels so proud of it. He loves showing everyone that his wife is one of the best professional jujutsu sorcerers, strong like him. But you should not be dealing with this cruel world. You are the most precious thing to him.

Satoru could feel your energy miles away, making it easy to identify your presence. But now he's not sensing any cursed energy flowing according to your emotions. It's all so quiet and calm. The powerful energy emanation should be surrounding your body as it always has, but it's as if something inside you is blocking it right now, since he can't feel your aura. It's different. He will question Shoko about this as soon as he takes your body to her for analysis.

"Do not mention it to the students, especially Megumi." The request leaves Satoru's mouth like a command. He imagines how the teenage Fushiguro would react upon finding out your condition, as you had become a maternal figure by making sure to take care of him since he was so young. The spiky-haired student is on a mission with others, and the best choice is not to disclose the information as the bad news would have a big negative impact on the boy. Gojo knows you would want that too.

On the other side of the area, the grade 1 sorcerer nods in deep silence. Nanami feels the muscles strengthen beneath his formal clothes. He is aware of the gravity of the situation, the actions and the consequences. He is not one to conceal lies, but that will be an exception he makes.

"She's losing a lot of blood." The blond man pushes his glasses closer to his eyes with his hands as he gazes at the white-haired sorcerer. He sighs deeply, containing the desperation within him. "Take her out of here before it's too late."

Growling in displeasure, Satoru Gojo is teleporting with you unconscious in his arms.

⥊෴⥊෴⥊෴⥊

The night takes over the city, darkness has crept upon Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College, and 2 hours have passed since the sorcerer of the Six Eyes emerged in the place, insane, with you clinging to his chest and enraged enough as he searched for an available doctor. Gojo laid your body down onto the nearest stretcher, his hands dirty and consumed by your blood, staining the sheets red and making a mess. 2 hours ago he was screaming at anyone who crossed his path. At this moment, silence hangs in the air like a fog, it is peaceful again behind the school doors.

In one of the infirmary rooms, you are peacefully sleeping on the stretcher. Your chest rises and falls in a steady motion, your body completely healed through the spell cursed technique reversal performed by professionals. The minor wounds and even the most serious ones - like the rupture of your rib - had vanished, and your skin is renewed under the hospital gown you are now dressed in. Sitting in a chair quite close to you, the strongest sorcerer is comfortable with legs apart, assuming a relaxed posture as he rests the upper part of his body on your legs enclosed by the sheets. Satoru Gojo is resting, his eyelids is closed and his head supported by his own arms. He spent so much time watching you sleep that his eyes were influenced by exhaustion. Satoru has no idea of the time he spent caressing your face, running his fingers through your hair, and kissing your forehead several times before settling into his current position. His neck is turned towards the ceiling, his white hair falling naturally loose. There is only a black t-shirt hugging his torso as he had taken off the jacket of his jujutsu attire since your blood had stained most of his clothes. The exposed skin of his arms is almost glistening in the light of the room.

He has kept you safe all this time, only leaving you when he realized that everything was under control. The man always ensures to protect you at all costs, even though most of the time you don't need it. After inspecting the entire perimeter and realizing that you were safe at Jujutsu High, he went to finish the mission that was according to the superiors, just as it had been ordered to you. Since he completed the task of exorcising a special grade curse, his precious time now remains only for you. By the time indicated on the wall clock, Satoru wishes so much to take you home and he only thinks about holding you close until morning comes again. Nevertheless, Shoko was quite insistent when she said that you still require monitoring by a doctor, and that for now you should stay here. What did she mean by that?

This question echoes in Satoru's mind, suddenly he awakens fully and opens his eyes as quickly as if he felt some creature attacking him without warning. A movement of your legs under the sheets does not go unnoticed by him, his blue orbs almost popping out as they contemplate you lazily waking up from eternal rest. For him, it was truly eternal.

"I knew you were here." You whisper. Your voice is weak from just waking up, but a strong smile spreads across your face when your eyes slowly open and meet the white mane. You try to push yourself up out of bed using your arms, but your efforts are blocked by Satoru.

"Babyyy! Easy, easy." Your husband gestures with his hands, a gaze of relief on his face. You're really strong, huh? He is smiling like a little boy who just tasted his favorite mochi flavor, and you are certain you see stars twinkling in his eyes. "Gee, you're already eager to fly."

"Satoru, if you don't let me get out of this bed right now, I swear I don't know what I'll do."

"When in doubt, do nothing." He is clapping consistently to highlight the idea. "Settle that cute and pretty booty down right there, I've locked all the doors and you ain't leaving here. Now tell me how you're feeling, my lovely wife. That's all that matters to me."

"Argh." A small huff of air escapes your lips while you roll your eyes towards the ceiling, defeated enough. The man right next to you is playfully disapproving of your behavior. "I'm fine, 'Toru. You know that better than I do. My skin's just tingling from someone else's reverse technique." You report during the time you notice the scars that have formed on your arm after the outcome of the cursed method. A technique that you have the experience to perform on yourself. After all, you don't carry the title of special grade sorcerer for nothing.

"Nah, don't sweat it. I'm gonna take good care of you." There's an intense gaze that matches his words. The man emits a little chuckle as he realizes he managed to tease you with that.

"And where's 'Gumi?" You inquire, more to yourself than to Satoru. Your eyes are scanning the entire room in search of finding the black-haired teenage boy. You still ponder the king of curse's intentions towards Megumi, it consumes you and leaves you with a nagging feeling.

"You're more worried 'bout him than 'bout yourself, heh." The man raises his eyebrows, indignation stamped on them. A comical expression, almost too much. "You know that tough boy is independent, he's able to handle anything. Can you chill out for a minute, lady?" Satoru's smile broadens before he proceeds: "I took care of everything already, I told him to swing by here before heading to the dorm. Didn't go into the details, of course."

"He's probably gonna be surprised to find out we're here at Jujutsu High at this time of night... Guess I must have slept for a while, right?" You touch the skin of your husband as you place your hand on his face, and give a radiant smile as you realize that there is no invisible barrier holding you apart, even though he always deactivates it when he is with you. "Hey. Thank you for keeping things on the down low. And for everything you do for me."

"Awww! You're welcome, bae." Satoru copies the way you smile, but it is quickly replaced by a grimace. He puts his hand right on top of yours, the wedding rings on your fingers colliding with each other. "Ain't nobody care 'bout me like that. What did I do to not deserve it?"

"It's like I wouldn't be worried about you even if you could move mountains with just your own thoughts." You are rolling your eyes for the second time. Once you blink, he is staring at you with a stern and intimidating look.

"I'm the one here who got the most worried 'cause you got me feelin' this way. A guy like me shouldn't have these kinds of feelings." His voice is husky and his cold blue eyes unravel your soul, the temperature is freezing you. "Don't do that again, or I'll lose my mind and kill anyone around me." The way he adresses this, it is not a bluff. It seems like an objective he would fulfill, a mission that would not require anyone's authorization, not even the higher-ups of the Jujutsu society.

"Satoru..."

"You're trying to make me a widower, hah?" His voice becomes light again, genuine good humor returns. Now he has a broad smile on his face, the eyes are nearly closing due to that action. As if he hadn't announced something so violent just 10 seconds ago. "If I tally up how many folks got worried 'bout you, there won't be enough fingers on Sukuna's hand to count it."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to do that." You are making amends, and he cannot resist gazing at your lips without stealing a quick kiss. A man clingy to his wife. "I had just exorcised a special grade cursed spirit when I started feeling dizzy. My head began to spin."

Satoru reveals a pensive expression on the face, one hand resting on his chin. The most powerful sorcerer is contemplating all the possibilities to uncover the reason behind that eventuality concerning your cursed technique.

"So, I suppose that might have been the reason you didn't recover yourself at that moment, considering you experienced signs of fainting. Your brain became destabilized." He pronounces, cautiously, witnessing you confirm the information. "Were you feeling like that before you got the fight started?"

"When we split up to head towards the mission I was feeling fine." The corner of your mouth moves, you display your teeth to the man in an attempt to reassure him. Gosh, he is being so serious about that. "Maybe I used up too much of my energy, I guess I hit my limit. That's it."

"Hmm, there's something more. It's interesting and surprising how your energy flow is strongest now." The white-haired man is examining you with a curious look.

"Are you saying I'm accumulating this more than usual? Is that possible?"

"It's a fact. And I'm the one confirming it, little sweetheart." There is a smug smile playing on his lips. "But at least you're feeling better right now, yeah?"

"Hell yeah, I feel brand spanking new thanks to Shoko's skills!" You are shooting fire arrows with your eyes towards the bold man. "Can you stop staring at my tits now?"

"I'm just checking to make sure everything's really okay." He speaks with such honesty, finally lifting his eyes to meet yours. Satoru cannot shake off the thought of how beautiful you look to him, a very sugary sweet and his favorite. You make him feel so mushy and nearly diabetic.

However, Gojo Satoru is a natural provocateur.

"You're getting on my nerves, 'Toru."

He opens his mouth to laugh out loud, giving you a wink. You also join in his laughter as he starts poking your body several times, this real jokerster tickling you. The antics are suddenly interrupted the moment someone knocks on the door. Shoko Ieiri appears seconds later behind it, revealing only the upper part of her body.

"Sorry to interrupt the lovebirds." She smiles faintly, continuing: "I need a quick minute to talk to Satoru." The experienced doctor has a lit cigarette between her fingers, she is pointing it in your direction. You see its tip sparkling at you. "And you, go rest. Don't even think about escaping from that stretcher until we come back."

"You heard that, huh? This time it didn't come out of my mouth." Gojo has one finger pointed at the tongue he sticks out.

You gaze at them and fold your arms, simply accepting your fate.

"Alright. Goodbye." You are turning your back on them and burrowing into the blanket. "If possible, turn off the light before you guys leave."

"Going to sleep without giving me a kiss? That's not fair." Satoru is shocked enough, a pout forming on his lips and a puppy dog look in his eyes. He truly displays his emotions, reminding you of how every night Satoru Gojo questions that same thing after going to bed with you. Every night, the same thing.

"Okay, you two. I'll wait outside." The woman manages to capture the attention of both of you before the noise of her high heels against the floor fades away.

As soon as she departs, warm lips land on the side of your neck and journey up to your mouth. You need to raise your head to reach Satoru's lips, his skin burning against yours like a flame. The instant his hand wraps around the flesh of your waist and grips it tightly, you understand that he would never let you escape his grasp, or his domain expansion. He is kissing you as if he were thirsty and you were the water fountain, this man is showing you how much he requires you in his life. Preferably alive, of course. Otherwise, he will make sure of it for you.

"Hmmm, get outta here. I promise I'll make it up to you with a full kiss later." You moan at the touch, trying not to show that you're shivering just to not further inflate his already oversized ego. As if it were possible to be any bigger than usual.

"Oh, is that so? You know I'll hold you to that, babe." He growls near your ear.

At the moment the sorcerer is leaving the room, he halts on his path and gives you a long look with his blue eyes. Inside them, Satoru harbors concern.

"What's going on?"

"I'm feeling sorry for my friend." Ieiri ignores Satoru, making one's way to her desk. Instantly, a breeze from outside the window extinguishes the cigarette ember in her hand, smoke spreading throughout the room. "She is truly doomed to sacrifice her life, including putting up with your strong-willed nature for the rest of her life."

"Oi, what's that supposed to mean?" Satoru wears a playful smile on his lips. He places his hands in his trouser pockets in a relaxed and unconcerned posture, anticipating a highly amusing joke.

"You have no idea what's happening, do you? And what's going to happen from now on." She sets aside the cigarette, burying it in the ashtray on the table. Gojo watches everything attentively before rolling his eyes, he's starting to get bored with all the fuss. "But I believe you may have already noticed that the train is off the rails."

The doctor is moving around the small armchair in the room. When Shoko sits down, she leans her back against the backrest and then crosses her legs, silently facing Satoru. The expression on the white-haired man's face is impassive. He wishes he had the ability to read minds.

"Y/N is pregnant, Satoru." The sound of Ieiri's sigh is loud. "She is carrying your child in her womb. It's extraordinary that the baby has survived."

Satoru Gojo's world crumbles once more, for the second time that day. Not only is his own world shaken, but also the entire Jujutsu society.

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

2: UNWELCOME DISTANCE

Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter

Dinner with Bucky didn't go as well as you planned and now you're suffering from the outcome of being ditched in an autumn thunderstorm.

Word count: 3.2k

Warning: feelings of betrayal, shitty communications skills, illness (upper respiratory tract infection) description, Coney Island and cotton candy, jealousy, Bucky... Barnes is a warning

The following morning, you woke up feeling a little worse for wear. You buried your face in your pillow willing the tickle in your throat and at the back of your nose to disappear. A small groan left your lips as your attempt to sleep in was thwarted by the aching throughout your body. Sitting up did little to make you feel better, other than shifting the balance of mucus in your sinuses, making you sneeze and worsening the scratchiness of your throat. You looked up at the clock, you’d missed the breakfast time that you were expected to attend, but there weren’t any messages on your phone expressing concern from your friends.

A throb of self pity and doubt flashed through your mind. Did any of them even care? You had lost Bucky to another woman, but clearly none of your other friends had noticed your absence. You weren’t special, you’d only been invited to join the Avengers Initiative because of your powers. The thoughts were just forming, your mind ready to spiral into a storm of insecurity, when there was a knock at your door. Each movement felt like wading through molasses, and even sitting up seemed like an insurmountable task.

"Cricket?" Steve’s voice permeated into the room.

"Coming!" At least that was what you tried to say, your voice coming out as a small croak. You padded over to the door barefoot and opened the door to find Steve’s kind face looking down at you.

His concern was etched across his features as he took in your disheveled appearance. Dark circles clung to your eyes, and your skin had lost its usual healthy hue.

"Hey there, sunshine," he greeted, his voice gentle. "How’re you feeling?"

There was only one word that would succinctly sum up your emotional and physical state in that moment. "Shit," you mumbled, sniffing at the fluid that was threatening to leak from your nose.

He reached out, his hand cool against your feverish skin. His touch was comforting, grounding you in the midst of your misery. "You definitely have a fever," he confirmed.

As if to affirm his observation, your body pitched forwards in a violent sneeze, which you barely had the time to catch with the inside of your elbow. You ended the outburst with a pained groan, as the back of your throat burned.

Steve’s concern deepened. "You need rest," he said firmly, steering you back into bed. "I’ll make you some tea."

You followed his instructions without protest, not having the energy to argue. It would be best for you to stay in bed, you’d get better quicker with rest, and it was a great excuse to avoid seeing your best friend and his girlfriend. The practical side of you would use the excuse that you didn’t want to expose anyone to your germs. At least Steve would be protected by the serum, so you didn’t need to worry about him hanging around. So with a clear conscience, you snuggled back under your covers to wait for Steve’s return.

As he disappeared towards the kitchen, you sank back into your pillows. Maybe losing Bucky wasn’t the end of the world. Maybe having a friend like Steve was enough—a warm presence in the midst of your feverish chaos. And as the wind whistled outside, you realized that sometimes, friendship was the best medicine of all.

Little did you know that on his way to the kitchen, Steve ran into Bucky as he was leaving your room.

"Steve?" Bucky called after his friend.

"Hey, Buck."

"What’re you doing?" The real question he wanted to ask was ‘why are you leaving Cricket’s room?’.

"Just grabbing some things for Cricket. She isn’t feeling very well."

"What?" Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed with concern. "She was fine yesterday!"

"Well if you hadn’t left her alone to get drenched in that storm, she probably wouldn’t be so miserable." Steve hadn’t meant to be so harsh with his words, but you had interrupted his beauty sleep the previous night and he was feeling rather disgruntled.

"What’re you trying to say, Steve?

"You shouldn’t have left it so long to tell her." Steve was referring to Priya and how long he'd kept his relationship with her private.

"That’s my decision, Steve." Bucky countered, defensively.

"I know. But maybe you should think about why you were so ready to tell me, but not Cricket."

Bucky clicked his tongue against the roof of mouth, dismissing Steve's comments. "I'm gonna go and see her."

Steve thought about objecting, but decided against it, opting to fetch the things he had promised you.

Bucky’s footsteps echoed down the narrow hallway, each one a heavy reminder of his own recklessness. The storm had raged outside, rain pelting against the window panes like a thousand tiny fists. But he hadn’t been there to shield you from it. Instead, he’d left you alone, vulnerable, and now guilt gnawed at him like a persistent rat.

Your room was dimly lit, the curtains drawn shut against the gray morning. Bucky hesitated at the threshold, his knuckles grazing the wooden doorframe. He’d never been good with words, especially when it came to matters of the heart. But he had to try.

"Cricket?" His voice was soft, almost tentative. He stepped inside, the floorboards creaking under his weight. There you were, cocooned in blankets, your face pale against the pillows. The storm had taken its toll on you, and he cursed himself for not being there.

You stirred, eyelashes fluttering open. "Bucky?" Your voice was a whisper, fragile like a spider’s silk. "What’re you doing here?"

He crossed the room in two strides, perching on the edge of your bed. "I… I heard you weren’t feeling well." His fingers brushed against your forehead, checking for fever. "Steve told me."

You managed a weak smile. "Steve’s a tattletale."

"He cares about you," Bucky said gruffly. "We both do."

"I feel bad for dragging him out of bed last night."

"Cricket, why didn't you tell me you didn't have any way to get back home. I would have brought a car instead of my bike."

You shrugged, “I didn’t think I had to.”

He had been so caught up in his plans to introduce you to Priya that he hadn’t even considered the possibility that you might need a ride home. He had assumed you would find your own way, and he was just starting to realize how selfish that had been. He should have been more attentive, more caring. He laid a hand on your arm, “I’m sorry, Cricket. I should have been more thoughtful. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Yeah, I got that.”

“Cricket, please, let me make it up to you. I was looking for you this morning. I made your favorite pancakes," Bucky continued. "Thought you could come and have breakfast with me and Priya, before I take her home."

"Sorry," you shrugged, hating this conversation more and more. Why was Steve taking so long to return?

"I was going to spend the day with her, but if you want, I can come back and we can watch some movies."

"Don't cancel your plans on my account." You rolled over, facing away from Bucky.

Your behavior stung, but he couldn't blame you for being angry. He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat threatening to choke him. "I’m sorry," he whispered. "For leaving you out there."

"See you later," you mumbled and Bucky knew he had been dismissed. 

Bucky couldn't shake the guilt that weighed heavily on his chest as he walked away. He had always been a good friend, someone who looked out for others and made sure they were taken care of. But in his excitement to introduce you to Priya, he had neglected to consider your needs.

As he walked away, Bucky couldn't stop replaying the conversation in his head. He had let you down, and he wanted to make things right.

Steve appeared a few moments after his departure, his arms laden with homely remedies and a bowl of soup which smelled incredible. Your stomach rumbled hungrily in response, making you blush.

"Here, take this first," Steve shoved a bottle of DayQuil under your nose.

Begrudgingly, you accepted the painkiller gratefully and then proceeded to slurp up the soup. "This is delicious," you hummed in approval.

"Hey, when you're feeling a bit better, I was thinking I could take you out somewhere… cheer you up a little." Steve stuttered towards the end as he saw surprise on your face. 

You swallowed your mouthful of soup before cracking a smile. “Steve, I'd like that.”

Steve smiled back at you. But suddenly, he reached out, grabbing the bowI in your hands, having noticed the slight hitch in your breath. A sneeze rocked your body forcefully and you groaned.

“Thanks,” you accepted the bowl back from Steve.

"No problem. Don't want to make a mess."

“No,” you sighed, finishing the soup in a sad silence.

“Want me to stay?”

“No, it's okay. I'm just going to go back to sleep.”

Steve took the empty dishes and kissed your forehead, glad that it didn't feel as warm as it had earlier. “Feel better, champ.”

You sure hoped you would.

*

A few days later, you were back in fighting form. But much to Bucky's chagrin, he could never seem to catch your attention for more than a passing nod or wave. He wanted to make things right with you. He missed you, he wasn’t used to being so close to you but not being able to talk to you properly. He had the sneaking suspicion that your distance might not just be ill-timed schedules. Were you avoiding him? He wondered if you were still angry at him for not giving you a ride back home after your dinner with Priya. A feeling of melancholy settled over him as he speculated on all the things he could have done that made you take a step away from him. Every reason under the sun spiraled through Bucky’s mind except the real reason for your withdrawal.

Bucky had hoped that meeting someone else, someone who was interested in him would help him push away the feelings he had for you. Closure. That’s what they called it in the movies these days. But this didn’t seem like it was going quite the way he had anticipated. In fact, rather than feeling happier, he felt more tortured than he had before. Maybe going out with Priya would take his mind off things, so he decided to give her a call and schedule a date, she had a way of soothing his turbulent thoughts. Not as well as you did, no one understood him quite like you did.

*

Steve was true to his word, and had whipped up a surprise plan for the two of you to spend the day together. He had chosen a Wednesday, explaining that it was a good time as the place would be less busy. He made sure you had dressed warmly, in spite of the sunny weather. 

"Don’t want you getting ill again," he smiled as you got into the car with him.

"Is that why we’re not taking the bike?"

Steve shook his head, knowing how much you loved riding motorcycles.

"So where are you taking me?" you asked. You’d been trying to get Steve to tell you for the last few days, but the tight lipped Captain had resisted all your wily techniques at information extraction.

"Coney Island."

"Ohh!" you exclaimed. "I haven’t been there for years!" You laughed before a thought popped into your head, a memory. "Are you sure you want to go there, Steve?"

"Why wouldn’t I want to go to Coney Island?"

"Well, I heard about… the… Cyclone Incident."

Steve blushed. "Bucky telling everyone that story, huh?"

"Afraid so." Your smile was soured slightly by the shadow casted by Bucky’s name and you turned to stare out of the window, letting Steve drive in silence.

Steve shook his head. He wanted nothing more than for both his best friends to be happy, and for the two of you to be happy together was the ultimate goal. He hoped that one day both of you would come to your senses, but until then, he would do his best to support you both.

The weather turned out to be fine and you had shed your top layer before even leaving the car.

"Oh come on! Stop being such a dad! We can always come back to the car if it gets chilly!" you responded to Steve’s disapproval.

"Come on then!"

It was a beautiful day filled with laughter and joy between you and Steve. He was glued to your side, treating you to all the rides, indulging you when you wanted to ride the Cyclone repeatedly. Every time you got to the end of the ride, you’d turn to him and make sure he wouldn’t spill his guts. Steve rolled his eyes dramatically as you laughed hysterically.

"What next?" Steve asked. "And don’t tell me we’re doing that again."

"Come on, the girl letting people in definitely has a crush on you! Why do you think we got on for free the last two times?"

Steve grabbed your wrist, "Come on!" He led you away from the rides, over to a cotton candy kiosk, dropping a few notes into the vendor's hand and selecting two cones. You took the liberty of grabbing the blue one from his hand and tucking into it before he had the chance to object.

"Bet I can eat this faster than you can!" Steve suggested slyly.

"Oh, bring it, Rogers!" You tore the stick out of the candy cloud and scrunched it up into a tiny ball, sticking it in your mouth and letting the sugar dissolve on its own.

Steve, who had taken several large bites, looked up in confusion and awe. He eyed your empty hands, then put his finger on your bottom lip, pushing it down and peering into your mouth. 

You indulged his disbelief, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue. "See, all gone! I win!" you smile with glee.

"Wow!"

"You forget, I was the youngest of five! I had to learn to eat fast or I’d lose out." 

Steve chortled quietly at your story. "Fine, what do you want as your prize?" He waved around at all the game stalls, letting you pick your prize.

You gazed around, contemplating your options when you spotted a giant stuffed wolf. "That one!"

Steve was true to his word and threw every bean bag with perfect aim and you pointed at a white plushie which looked a little different to the others. 

"Why don’t you take this one?" the vendor tried to shove a dark gray wolf into your arms, but you declined.

"No thank you, I’d like that one please." You selected one which had been stuffed on a high shelf, away from the others of its kind.

"Honey, this one’s going in the garbage, look at him, white body with one gray leg. It’s a defective product, they made a mistake in the factory. Happens from time to time."

But you were adamant, you wanted the white wolf with the transplanted leg.

"Whatever you want, miss." The vendor handed you the soft toy, which you hugged to your chest. There was something about him that you wanted to keep safe.

Unbeknownst to you, you had been spotted by someone unexpected. Bucky had had a similar thought to Steve, he had brought Priya to the ‘island’ on a quiet weekday for some harmless fun.

"Jamie, look!" Priya tugged at his sleeve. "Isn't that Cricket and Steve?"

Bucky's head whipped around so fast, he almost had empathy for whiplash sufferers. He frowned, eye searching the crowd in the direction of Priya’s outstretched hand. He couldn't believe that you would come here with Steve. He had often suggested a trip to Coney Island to you, but you'd never managed to make the time for it. So seeing you here with Steve made his insides burn with jealousy. Another part of him, his guilt-ridden conscience told him that he didn't deserve you. Naturally, you'd choose the classical hero, Steve. He was the golden boy, even when they'd been kids, Steve was the trouble maker, but somehow Bucky was the one his parents mistrusted. 

"Yeah," he grumbled.

"Let's go over and say hi!"

"I'm sure they don't want us to interrupt them." Bucky vetoed the suggestion with a sulky expression.

"Fair, I mean I wouldn't want anyone interrupting our date either." Priya smiled, taking Bucky's hand, leading him away. Bucky stole one last glance at his two best friends, a deep ache settling inside him as Priya dragged him away from you. 

*

Over the next week, you and Bucky drifted through the compound, both longing for the other but not quite able to find it within yourselves to seek the other out. For you, it was a simple matter of avoidance. You'd made the mistake of touching the flame and now you suffered the burn. But for Bucky it was different. He couldn't understand your absence and he knew nothing of your pain.

He could feel the frustration building up inside him, until one day he caught you returning to your room. And every one of his thoughts and accusations came pouring out.

"What is it? Why’re you upset with me?" Bucky demanded.

"I’m not upset… it’s not- I’m hurt. You hurt me. It’s not that you did something wrong. In fact you haven’t done anything wrong. It’s just that I thought you’d share something big, like dating, with me. But you kept it secret. For four months! I thought we told each other everything. I … I just expected-" you shrugged. "And that’s the problem here. My expectations were wrong, and I’m ashamed. But you didn’t do anything wrong. You have nothing to apologize for. But somehow I feel like I’m going to lose you."

"You’ll never lose me, Cricket."

"But Buck, I already have. Like she said… she’s your best friend now." Bucky opened his mouth to interrupt, but you put your hand out to stop him talking. "I just need some time to deal with that. Is that okay?"

"I didn’t mean to hurt you," he mumbled. The sincerity evident in his tone and face.

"I know, Buck," you sighed. "I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty. Please, I want you to be happy. I’m happy for you."

"Please, let me make this up to you." Bucky grabbed your wrist, desperately.

"You can do that by making sure you take care of yourself. I’m always going to be with you, on missions and stuff, partner," you patted his upper arm. "I just think that our friendship’s going to change a little… and I just need some time to get used to that."

"Is this because of Steve?"

"Steve?" you repeated after him, feeling confused by the change in topic. "What does Steve have to do with this?"

"Are you together?"

"What? No! Bucky, why would you think that?"

"I just…" He shrugged, not quite able to bring up seeing you at Coney Island, or the moment of closeness you had had with Steve the night he had introduced you to Priya.

Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter

Tag list: @samodivaa @scoonsalicious @literaryavenger @noonespecial90 @browneyedgrli @vicmc624 @cjand10 @capswife @julvrs @ordelixx @sashaisready @sebastians-love @thealloveru2 @belleofthebooks

[nowimjustastranger]

Hello, if you want to, for your gilded cage au, could we see the exact moment Liam realized Stan and Ford were obsessed with him in a way that was more then just using him as a tool? Like, that they see him as a younger brother? Would he be kinda touched or would he be like 'this might be worse for me'

In order to answer this ask, I decided to split it into two parts. One for each brother. Enjoy!

Part 2

Liam popped into existence in a familiar lab, stifling the overwhelming urge to sigh. Ford had been summoning him more often than usual as of late. Liam found himself in Ford’s vicinity at least once a day for the past month, the madman always preoccupied with some unethical experiment or another. Ford wouldn’t even spare him a glance either, just directing him to a nearby pile of books.

The subject matter varied from history to cuisine and it was actually enjoyable to consume knowledge about this strange planet he found himself bound to for the duration of the Pines twin’s lives. Of course, Liam could only read the books under the one condition that they didn’t leave the lab, so Liam had to stick around for longer than he’d like. But it was worth it because humans were fascinating.

Liam’s slit pupil lazily searched for Ford among the several jars and trays of specimens that were in various stages of dismemberment, having long since grown used to seeing the aftermath of such clinical cruelty. The human responsible wouldn’t be far, the summoning symbol branded smack dab in the middle of the madman’s chest ensuring that Liam appeared within a certain radius of him.

Stan had the same summoning symbol of course, although it was burned onto his back near the right shoulder. Liam had been there when they had done it, the twins taking turns pressing the glowing brand to the other’s skin. Oddly enough, the one doing the branding needed more comfort and reassurance than the one being branded. Liam hadn’t understood then because he didn’t know them well enough, but he thinks he does now.

“Ah, Liam! There you are!” Ford exclaimed, his sophisticated appearance a direct contrast to his manic nature. Ford wore pretty much the same thing every day with little to no deviation, which he achieved by buying a lot of duplicates. Admittedly, the white vest and black undershirt combo –the sleeves almost always rolled up to his elbows– complimented his fit physique.

And fortunately, for the sake of his wardrobe if nothing else, Ford covered up with a black leather butcher’s apron when he was in the lab. If the sheer amount of times Liam showed up only to see Ford elbows deep in some poor anomaly was any indication, the utter madman didn’t mind getting his hands dirty and he certainly wasn’t squeamish.

Stan, on the other hand, wore a white undershirt with a black jacket and slacks; no vest or tie. However, Stan did own a fluffy white monstrosity of a coat that he was quite fond of, insisting that it made him look the part of a mafia boss. Truthfully, Stan didn’t look terrible when he wore that hideous coat, but Liam was skeptical that anyone other than Stan could pull the look off.

“Ford.” Liam greeted blandly, eyeing the various fluids that were splattered on Ford’s apron with distaste. If Ford noticed or cared about the sorry state of his apron and custom made black leather gloves, he made no outward indication of it.

“I have something for you, Liam. Come, come!” Ford gushed with a worrying gleam in his eyes, gesturing toward the depths of the lab with a flourish since he knew better than to make a grab for Liam. Ford had been electrocuted many times due to forgetting himself and attempting to manhandle Liam like he often did with his brother, getting thrown a good six feet away from Liam’s corporeal form as a result.

“For me?” Liam asked, no small amount of wariness in his tone. This was Stanford Pines after all. The madman’s idea of a gift was almost guaranteed to be deadly, or at the very least completely unnerving. Liam didn’t like surprises in the first place, but this took that dislike to a whole other level, leaning closer to paranoia and maybe even an inkling of fear if he was being completely honest.

“Yes. I had noticed a need and promptly got to work fulfilling it.” Ford confirmed with a decidedly vigorous nod, his vague answer only serving to confuse Liam further. Liam himself hadn’t noticed anything off with his form or internal structure, so what need could Ford possibly be fulfilling? Maybe this was yet another ploy meant to convince Liam to let Ford examine him?

“A need?” Liam impatiently prompted when it didn’t seem like Ford was going to be forthcoming about what the fuck he was talking about.

“Here.” Ford said instead of answering, grabbing a golf-ball sized sphere off of one of his cluttered workstations, the glowing blue liquid inside the sphere churning as Ford thrust it toward Liam with a huge grin that spelled nothing but trouble. Liam made no move to take it, leveling Ford’s obnoxiously giddy expression with a flat stare.

“What is it?” Liam demanded, pupil drifting between Ford and the sphere a few times. He had to admit, there was a flicker of curiosity, but it was lost under an extremely warranted surge of apprehension.

“A pill of sorts. Meant to be taken orally.” Ford explained, as if that was the part that Liam had an issue with. Leave it to Ford to completely miss the point. Liam was half-convinced that he did it on purpose because surely he wasn’t this socially incompetent.

“Real enlightening.” Liam deadpanned, reluctantly reaching out to pluck the sphere from Ford’s hand. He would have to figure out what it was himself, and the only way to do that was get a closer look at the damn thing.

The first thing Liam noticed was that the sphere felt… strange. It was cold to the touch but it was almost pulsing with energy, the mystery liquid inside glowing even brighter where it came into contact with his hand. The color was familiar somehow, as if he had seen this particular shade somewhere before. If he had more time, he would dig the memory up to examine it properly. But Ford, for all his determination, wasn’t a patient man by any means.

Liam hesitantly drew his eye back and out of the way so his tongue could unfurl from the opening to scoop up the sphere, painfully aware of Ford’s intense staring as his tongue retreated back into the cavern so his corrosive saliva could weaken the outer shell. Liam’s teeth broke the sphere with a loud crack, the liquid so cold that it burned as it spilled into his oral cavity.

Liam could feel it eating away at him from the inside, rushing through his internal structure with such ferocity that it almost seemed intentional; as if the liquid was alive. Had Ford designed this in an attempt to hurt him? To kill him? To erase him completely? Unfortunately, those thoughts were gone almost as soon as they crossed his mind, burning up like the rest of him.

Minutes or hours could’ve passed by the time Liam returned to himself, feeling both jittery and numb at the same time. He blinked sluggishly, the lab’s high ceiling coming into focus. Off in the distance, Liam could hear two distinct and familiar voices speaking with obvious urgency. Although it took him a long moment to actually recognize the garbled gibberish as words.

“–still unresponsive. And I’ve tried everything, Stanley!” Ford bemoaned, the rapid tap of his pristine dress shoes against tile a telltale sign of his anxious pacing. When Ford spoke again, he sounded small and terrified: “What if I killed him?”

“Give ‘im a minute ta recover, Ford. Ya gave ‘im the cosmic equivalent of an adrenaline shot combined with steroids for fuck’s sake.” Stan drawled, his accent noticeably thicker than usual. He also sounded a little strained, like he was in pain. Liam would have to pay the personified headache a visit and make sure he hadn’t done anything reckless again. The conman had a knack for finding trouble.

“What else was I supposed to do? Unlike others of his ilk, his power isn’t limitless; using it so frequently for such a prolonged period of time was clearly affecting him negatively!” Ford snapped and Liam was struck dumb because even he himself hadn’t noticed that something was wrong, the change had been so gradual that he didn’t suspect a thing. Boiling frog syndrome. “He’d grown worryingly lethargic and started dissociating more and more often.”

“‘M not sayin’ that what ya did was wrong, Ford. ‘M sayin’ that he might need a damn minute. Panic in like… another hour.” Stan huffed, weathering the storm that was Ford’s rampant anxiety with an ease only borne from years of practice.

Liam figured it was high time to put Ford’s fears to rest before they could fester and the absolute madman did something ill-advised, gingerly climbing to his feet. He rocked back on his heels as he made sure that he was still in one piece, pleasantly surprised to find that he actually did feel better. Whatever Ford put in that sphere had worked.

“Ford?” Liam called out as he rose into the air, floating at eyeline. There was a crash from deeper in the lab, presumably because of Ford. A suspicion that was only proven correct when the madman stumbled out of the depths, a cord coiled around his ankle. The substantial length of it was dragging behind him, whatever had been attached to the other end missing due to the cord being severed.

Ford’s vest was nowhere to be seen, his shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal the brand on his chest. It looked awful, the raised skin blackened. Liam had only seen it turn that color when Ford toed the line when it came to studying him. Ford mostly kept his questions uninvasive, but sometimes he did try to pry into the intricacies of Liam’s species or even outright study him without consent.

The brand –the deal– swiftly corrected his behavior with crippling pain.

Liam had an inkling that Ford’s actions had violated their binding contract, resulting in punishment. What Ford did could be construed as an experiment after all, which Liam didn’t verbally permit before proceeding. Such a grievous offence would’ve affected Stan too, which explained why he had sounded pained during the phone call. And, based on Liam’s observations, Ford was able to block out sensory input more effectively than Stan.

“How do you feel?” Ford asked breathlessly, his hands warm as his fingers closed around Liam, unceremoniously jolting him out of his thoughts. Liam’s first instinct was to shock the shit out of him for the audacity, but he graciously withheld since he wasn’t exactly keen on kicking Ford while he was down.

“Better.” Liam admitted, fighting a losing battle against his own nonsensical emotions when Ford’s expression visibly crumpled with relief.

“Good. That’s good.” Ford mumbled, listing forward to rest his forehead against Liam’s front, his ridiculously fluffy hair getting in Liam’s eye. The irritation was easy enough to ignore, especially when Ford adjusted his grip in order to cling to Liam like a limpet. Actually, it was Ford’s pathetic state that ultimately led Liam to concede defeat and stiffly pat Ford’s head, providing genuine –albeit clumsy– comfort.

Liam knew that if he wasn’t careful, this apparently not so one-sided attachment would eventually be his undoing.

[fallenhunnyapple]

*aims gun* you better share those Adam body dysmorphia headcannons right now

(please 🥺)

Oh no a gun is pointed at me whatever shall I do 😩

I guess I'll just have to give in to your demands 😏

Okay these are HCs I share with @fallenguitarhero

So basically, Adam is Just A Guy. He has always been Just A Guy. When his helmet is broken, you can see just how much A Guy he is, his proportions are Completely human.

Meanwhile when he has his helmet, he's a lot more fluid, his size and shape changes at will basically. He can eat and drink through his helmet. When he's in the safety of Heaven, even when Lute is maskless, he's still wearing his Helmet. Clearly he feel More Comfortable with that than with his actual face.

He's the first Human Soul in Heaven, but he's not Just a Winner, he has Angelic Powers, he can create portals, he can look into Hell at will, he has Holy Light powers. He's an Angel but he's still Human. And he Looks Human. Especially at the beginning, he was the only thing that Looks like him. All the other Angels are ethereal in their appearance, they can have multiple forms. He's just... A human with Wings. Sure his wings are Unique, but that's the only thing that's special about him. It's not Him that's special.

The Helmet gives him the ability to change his form in little ways, it separates him from being Just A Guy, his face is something Different, something he can control. There's no way his Helmet wasn't specially made with all the abilities it has. No LED masks allows you to eat and drink through it. It was made specifically to allow him to keep it on at all times.

Without the Mask, his face is More Expressive, as cartoony and silly his Mask can be, his natural face's expressions are pushed even further.* And when his Helmet is Destroyed and he's just Him, he's Smaller than he was with the Helmet on. So if that's not his Natural state, then that means he's done it On Purpose consciously or not. He feels Smaller with his Helmet gone.

And then we kinda lean into it more in our AUs, especially our Sinner AU. Adam feels so insecure without his Mask, which had been destroyed during Extermination Day, so he hates people staring or even just looking at his face. His face is the thing he's most sensitive about but he can't hide it anymore and it weighs on him. The only person he allowed to see him without his mask Voluntarily was Lute because he trusted her more than anyone. (qpr guardrock is so important to me). But piercings and tattoos etc help because it allows him to take control of his appearance

In AUs other than Sinner AU, it takes a while for Adam to be comfortable taking his helmet off around Lucifer, Lucifer hadn't seen his face since Eden. And it takes Adam quite a while before he's willing to accept that Lucifer - especially Lucifer, the one once considered to be The Most Beautiful Angel - could find him attractive.

* Edit: Forgot to add that Because of how Expressive he is naturally, the mask also helps him control how he's being perceived. He can show As Much of his true feelings as he wants, or as Little. Its literally Masking his emotions

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

PREV ASK ANON HERE

I absolutely adore the idea of them being so completely unaware and dazed that they’re just happy to be there dearly. the only discomfort they’d be aware of is how cold they are in comparison to their temperature controlled tank. whumpee’s emaciated body would not be able to control their own temperature, and also factoring in the minimal clothes they’re wearing, leaves a whumpee with chattering teeth and no sense of what’s wrong.

also the act of caring for a god as a sense of devotion?? I’m kicking my feet and giggling I love it sm. I’d imagine as well in any scenario when whumpee is being manhandled they’re responsive to any stimulus, being that they’ve been deprived of anything but water for months, so any brush of the skin that whumper allowed would be responded to by a startle, groan, twitch, etc which in diff situation w diff whumper’s can yield different reactions. disgust, adoration, a sick sense of satisfaction, etc.

oooooohhgh and the aftermath. chefs kiss.

you’re right so so right ohmygod. whumpee would almost rather have been tortured or physically hurt to be able to say they “survived something” rather than just been completely and totally dehumanized to the point of complete and utter unawareness and shut down of higher cognitive functions. IM EATING IT UPPP.

Anyways,,whumper probably talked to them through the tank like someone would talk to a pet goldfish.

-🪣 anon (cause i dump all my ideas on ppl)

Oh my lord, the imagery. I just can’t help but imagine when Caretaker first finds Whumpee. They expect a cell, chains and bars. Instead, they find Whumpee suspended in a glass tube, body submerged in fluid. Their body limp, hair flowing like a halo around their head. They look like a sleeping god. They look like a trophy. It makes Caretaker sick.

Just… Whumpee is worshiped like a god, but contained like a monster. Contained so totally and then displayed like a prized possession. I know you see the vision.

And you’re so right! Sticking with the ‘worshiper’ Whumper cause we’re both vibing with it, I just imagine Whumper finding deep satisfaction in getting such an unguarded, vulnerable response from their ‘god’ with a simple touch. They’re the only one allowed to touch them. It only helps to strengthen Whumper’s posessiveness, their confidence that they’re the one worthy of protecting Whumpee and harnessing their power.

Also! Also! I really like your point of Whumpee only being aware enough to feel their discomfort. Their awareness has been successfully restricted to their immediate senses, because Whumper has taken control of all their other needs. I love the fact that in that state, Whumpee would seek that simple comfort from anyone, body instinctually leaning into any source of warmth. Is it Caretaker, gripping them with shaking hands, horrified of what was done to them? Is it Whumper, smiling down at Whumpee, gliding a hand through their dripping hair?

Plus, you’re totally onto something with the ‘talking to Whumpee like a goldfish’ thing! Cooing unwanted comforts as Whumpee is dragged under the drug’s effects for the first time. Smiling as Whumpee’s limp body twitches underneath their gentle touch. Giving updates on their work to Whumpee’s peaceful, sleeping form.

Whumpee never responds. They can’t. For as much as Whumper worships Whumpee, they’re not particularly interested in Whumpee’s opinions.

And the recovery!! I feel like it’d be so, so horrible for Whumpee, because it shares one key element with their captivity: helplessness. Even now they’re trapped, confined to a hospital bed with a body too weak for even the most simple of activities. They’re being dotted on again, bombarded by countless pitying looks.

Whumpee wants to brush them away, insist on standing on their own feet, and walk out of the hospital. But their hands shake when they try to bring a glass to their lips, their legs crumble beneath them when they try to stand unaided. Their complaints and frustrations have nothing behind them, and it only earns them more pity.

[sirenixspook]

The Service Axis: Pisces + Virgo

****** ᖭི༏ᖫྀ***** ᖭི༏ᖫྀ***** ᖭི༏ᖫྀ***** ᖭི༏ᖫྀ***** ᖭི༏ᖫྀ******

“The fluid, sensitive, temperament in Pisces – mediumistic and psychically polarized – must be stabilized in Virgo, in which sign mental introspection and critical analysis become possible and serve to arrest the fluidity of Pisces. These two signs balance each other.”  – Alice Bailey

I find the Pisces + Virgo axis in the circle as the most sensitive axis. There is something airy and detached about the energy these two possess, they come together when their gifts are of need. Pisces represents the mystification of the ego into an all-encompassing, whole, dissolved state. The flow of Pisces is infinite and all at once like a ripple effect caused by a single drop of water. Virgo, the opposite end of Pisces is aware of the what, the when, as it's presented in the now. If Pisces is a bubbly ocean Virgo is the sailor above the water, the eagle's eye view, the sharpened point that guides the mist.

Virgo - service and health oriented, they are extremely sensitive to physical changes in their environment. They stay ordered within the bare truth, sticking to simplicity. Virgin-like and self sacrificial, they have this purity about the world that allows them to tap into quite high vibes.

Low vibrational Virgo is over critical, too cold, foolishly over relying on objectivity rather than seeing higher ground. The perfectionist that gets lost in the practical details instead of taking a breath to allow their creativity to flow.

High vibrational Virgo finds order in helping others and being a reliable pillar. Their put together demeanor calms anyone around them- their polar twin Pisces helps them to think outside of the box.

Pisces - dreamy, intuitive and detached, their scales soak in a pool of zen. The most spiritual sign, they can appear aloof sometimes but it is because they are always acting in a state of general compassion and collective awareness of everything around them.

Low-vibrational Pisces is people pleasing, acting like a martyr, lost in a fantasy, and almost every Piscean/12th houser can tell you about escapism- they feel too much the vastness of the world's interconnectivity and numb their pain through drinking, shopping, etc.

High vibrational Pisces is called by a higher purpose and knows where humanity needs their spirit. Their idealistic vision guides others to a spiritual path- their polar twin Virgo can help organize themselves.

It is truly magical looking at how the pairs of signs interact with each other to form a full picture of a spectrum of energy. It’s like looking at an enemies to lovers trope lmao

-Ari 🔱

****** ᖭི༏ᖫྀ***** ᖭི༏ᖫྀ***** ᖭི༏ᖫྀ***** ᖭི༏ᖫྀ***** ᖭི༏ᖫྀ******

[cardiagf]

Makoto is Makoto

I don't really like engaging into cis or trans character debates especially when it's characters who are gnc/androgynous bc a lot of people especially in twt gets worked up ab these said characters are read as trans, which is completely harmless btw, it just rubs me the wrong way when some people are too insistent about a character being cis

and so I want to talk about makoto and how he is not cis, but is nb/transfem in more ways than just him being a femboy/crossdresser.

Disclaimer: I will be using he/she/they pronouns for makoto in this post just bc i think makoto will be cool with that

and for the record, i finished reading the main series but i have not read the middle school specials, yet.

im also someone who really likes otokonoko and onee characters so yes i am aware of the cultural nuances but this would be just me speaking a queer nb person who loves this series and how i perceive makoto as one

also spoiler warning!

first and foremost, I want to say that gender identity, gender expression and sexuality are all wholly fluid, it's a big spectrum that only you, yourself can figure out. And i think as queer people we're allowed to relate, reflect and see ourselves into the experience and struggles of a fictional character.

while i also don't mind it too much if we think ab how makoto dresses is just her gender expression and that even a cis guy should be able to be feminine and like feminine stuffs with without them being trans / or yk anyone can be gnc but i think as someone who went from being gnc to trans/nb pipeline, it is incredibly hard to not draw a line within queerness or being lgbt with makoto's OWN identity and queerness.

I mean makoto literally uses the "Atashi" 'I' pronoun for themself in which is, by the way, a jp 'I' prn most commonly used by girls when they're dressed as girl while she uses "Boku" when she's not crossdressing

(not to mention both saki and ryuji usually refers to makoto with gender neutral pronouns/referral, with saki always calling him "senpai" and ryuji just having the default gender neutral "Aitsu" pronoun for everyone)

and yeah i know it's also because he's an "otokonoko" but in retrospect, when we read further into the manga we learned that by high school, makoto had transferred to a school that lets them dress however she wants and had been living in said school for ALMOST A YEAR (until he was outed) and he clearly doesn't mind being perceived as a girl.

in fact, as shown in early chapters makoto was so happy when someone made a pass at her because that stranger thought they were a girl and he was so happy when he passed AS a girl.

him being an otokonoko or crossdressing only becomes a problem for them when other people are involved, i.e. when someone confesses to him or when she gets close enough with others, as I believe he sees it as a form of deception/don't want to disappoint them.

either way makoto is makoto, yes this is also a form of expression but i think it's also more of an identity, she doesn't have be locked down by the gender binary

not to mention how makoto hides his true identity to his mom is just something a lot of queer, and especially trans people can really relate to. she literally has to lock a huge part of herself inside a locker when they have to go home bc they cannot be themself in said home, it can clearly be read as someone who is closeted

now onto the spoilers regarding this, makoto coming out properly to his family and most specifically his mom really encapsulated the nb feeling really well

and yes i know she states that "he's a guy who happens to like girly things" (just give him a few years /j) but the point still stands: makoto is makoto. they don't want to live neither as a boy or just a girl. it didn't have to be "one or the other," they chose to be themself and this scene really spoke to me as someone who is nonbinary and how i didn't want to perceive as just my agab...i just want to be myself and i want to be true to myself and that was makoto's answer as well.

i honestly don't want to engage in the debate regarding makoto's gender/gender expression and yes it's canon that he's cis but his own experience and the queer experience especially at her age are just very much parallel to each other.

i know a lot of other trans people will be able to see themselves in makoto and I just don't like how people fight ab androgynous/otokonoko characters being cis only when queer readings regarding these character are completely valid and came from a place that reflects on their own experiences, we can't just lock the fluidity of gender identity of someone in one place, much less for a fictional character. they're queer, they're trans in some way and that is completely okay.

[brookebeebe-blog]

July 21st - Independent Excursion, Tai Chi and Meditation

This morning I woke up still sick. I mostly have a sore throat, so it’s not the worst but it’s still a bit annoying. Still, I am an academic weapon, so an illness could not stop me. I got up at 5 am because when we got here I remembered seeing people doing Tai Chi super early in the morning. I knew this was what I wanted to talk about for my independent excursion blog post, so I woke up extremely early in order to make it to a park and get to witness it. I walked to the first park next to the hotel, but unfortunately, no one was there. I ended up walking about half a mile to a bigger park when I found people doing Tai Chi and meditating. I will expand more on this in the academic reflection portion of the blog, but I sat here for about 2 hours and just enjoyed the nature and the scenery and observed the Tai Chi and meditation taking place. I also ended up talking to my friends in the park because it was about 8 pm for them. I hadn’t talked to them in a while, so it was really nice to catch up. Then, I walked back, but it was some poor planning on my part. I wore sweatpants because I figured it wouldn’t be too hot super early in the morning. I underestimated how long I would be staying in the park, so by the time I was walking back, I was sweating like crazy. I stopped at a 7/11 for some food and Super Supau (which is my new favorite drink and I am going to crave it when I go back to the States). When I finally got back to the hotel, I ate my food and then fell back asleep. I hadn’t gotten the best sleep because I’ve been sick and I want to get as much rest as I can on this free day so I am ready for the activities tomorrow (I am so excited for the zoo). For the rest of the day I plan on getting some food, finishing a bunch of assignments, and resting so I can get better as quickly as possible. 

Academic Reflection

Tai Chi is a Chinese form of martial art. It is a low-impact, slow-motion exercise. Not only does it focus on movement, but it also centers breathing as well. Because of this, it is popular among older people because it is an exercise that is extremely good for you and will not lead to injury or take your breath away. It is also extremely good for physical well-being, but since I am majoring in psychology, I will be focusing on the mental benefits that can arise from the practice of Tai Chi. I found an interesting scientific study on how Tai Chi affects mental well-being. According to the study, Tai Chi interventions show reductions in depression and anxiety (Sani, Yusoff, Norhayati, Zainudin, 2023). Not only do they reduce these mental ailments, but they improve general mental and physical well-being. Tai Chi could be utilized as a treatment for depression, along with therapy and health education. Tai Chi is extremely popular in Taiwan, especially early in the morning. It is hard to miss it. The fluid movements and centered activity could catch anyone’s attention. The earliest reference to Tai Chi is from the T’ang Dynasty (618-960 AD). When reflecting on how this is similar to my culture, Americans also partake in exercise to stimulate mental well-being. In fact, most therapists and psychologists strongly recommend it. Most Americans go to the gym, run, or play sports in order to feel mentally and physically healthy. It is definitely also different in a way though too. Unlike the American exercises, Tai Chi is low impact, which means it can be carried on to old age. Also, Tai Chi focuses on centering breathing and focusing on bodily sensations, which is not something incredibly common in most American practices. We do have yoga, which is probably the most similar exercise we share with Tai Chi, but one last major difference is the popularity. It is easy to find someone doing Tai Chi in Taiwan, especially in parks and areas where reconnecting with nature is no problem. It is much more rare to find Americans practicing yoga in a normal park. We have an obesity problem in the United States, in fact, we have more than double the obesity rate compared to Taiwan, and it has a good amount to do with the different cultures. They put an emphasis on working out and meditation, while Americans put it on the back burner. I chose this for my independent excursion because mental and physical health is important to me. As a psychology major, I care about my own mental health and the mental health of others. I firmly believe physical exercise is extremely beneficial for humans, which is constantly backed up by scientific studies. I not only admire Tai Chi, but I also admire Taiwanese culture for putting an emphasis on it. I will attach pictures of the Tai Chi I saw, but the faces of the people partaking in it will not be included to protect their privacy. 

Citations

Sani, N. A., Yusoff, S. S. M., Norhayati, M. N., & Zainudin, A. M. (2023). Tai Chi Exercise for Mental and Physical Well-Being in Patients with Depressive Symptoms: A Systematic Review and Meta-Analysis. International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health, 20(4), 2828. https://doi.org/10.3390/ijerph20042828

https://www.health.harvard.edu/staying-healthy/the-health-benefits-of-tai-chi

[datauthorress]

The Monster in Her Eyes [Chapter 11]

pairing: alucard / original female character / alexander anderson

summary: years after the death of integra hellsing, a young woman moves into the hellsing estate to start a new life after events happened in her home country. a new butler has been appointed to take care of the estate, which includes the monsters that have been dormant since integra’s death. but her will states that the new owner of the hellsing estate also owns everything belonging to hellsing, including the vampires that lay within.

A/N: Softer chapter with some fluff.

He was on the hunt.

His master had given him an order. Search and destroy. Search for anything left and destroy it without any mercy.

His master was strong. Not many humans could survive what she had survived, being kidnapped, and tortured without screaming and crying like a sniveling fool. Shelby reminded him of Integra in many ways and while Shelby never treated Alucard like a simple tool, she was firm in her commands. Though gentler than Integra.

Truth be told, Alucard had been glad that Anderson was with her, able to give her the push that had to be needed to get rid of the threat that threatened to consume Shelby’s life.

And she killed her very first human.

Granted, it was self-defense, but she still killed a human.

Alucard chuckled to himself.

“She’s proved herself worthy from the very start.” He hummed.

Alucard soon reached the mansion where Shelby had been taken and while he didn’t find anyone else inside, he did, however, follow the scent of humans that had seemingly escaped into the woods surrounding the mansion. He inhaled deeply, following the scent until he heard the sound of voices talking.

“What the hell are we gonna do now?” a male human’s voice asked. “Grimm is dead. We’re not getting our money now.”

“Fuck that, dude. We’re lucky we were able to get out of there before that freak vampire caught us.” Another said. “He gunned down the rest of the others.”

“I knew we shouldn’t have agreed to kidnapping that girl.”

“We should probably head out.”

“And where exactly do you think you are going?”

The men, a group of six, gasped and raised their gun’s as bright red eyes gleamed in the darkness of the woods around them. Alucard chuckled darkly as he came out of the shadows, unnerving gaze observing the men before him.

“I-it’s him!” one of the men yelped.

“It will never cease to amaze me how far some humans will go to retrieve paper.” Alucard mused. “Kidnapping another human and subjecting them to torture….”

“W-we were being paid!”

“Yeah, we didn’t have a choice!”

“Oh, you had a choice, men.” Alucard sneered as he reached into his coat, pulling out his two intimidating guns. “And you chose the wrong one.”

“P-please, we….” They whimpered, slowly moving backwards.

“You kidnapped my master. And now, you’ll suffer the consequences for it.”

Alucard lunged, fingers on the trigger.

And the screams of the men were heard in the air as they were slaughtered by the very vampire they feared.

~

He phased through the wall that led into his master’s hospital room; his entrance silent as he arrived. His red irises locked onto his master, and he was amused to see Anderson resting in the large, comfortable recliner, Shelby resting against him with his coat over her smaller form. The rolling pole that had her hooked up to fluids was next to the chair.

How adorable.

Anderson certainly had taken a liking to her.

The priest could deny it all he wanted, but actions spoke louder than words.

Alucard approached them, a hand reaching out to gently brush away some of his master’s short locks away from her eyes. She stirred slightly, but remained asleep and buried her face further into the priest’s chest.

Anderson stirred, green eyes popping open. They landed on Alucard, and he relaxed somewhat, reaching up to rub the grogginess from his eyes.

“Alucard,” he said softly.

“If I knew how to use a phone, this would be picture-worthy.” Alucard grinned.

Anderson groaned, glaring at him slightly. “Well, vampire?”

“It’s finished. Some soldiers managed to escape through the woods, but I found them.” he replied.

“You slaughtered them, didn’t you?”

“They kidnapped our master. That’s enough reason for them to be slaughtered like the worthless dogs they are.” Alucard said.

Anderson sighed softly, shaking his head.

“She had nightmares,” Anderson said quietly, so he wouldn’t disturb Shelby. “Couldn’t fall back asleep, so…. figured this was the only option.”

“You just wanted an excuse to have her on top of you,” Alucard laughed.

Anderson’s cheeks flushed brightly. “Shut up, vampire.”

“Oh, spare me the lies, Judas Priest.” Alucard said, leaning down slightly. “You’re falling for our master and don’t deny it.”

“You’re such an ass,” Anderson grumbled.

“You’re not disagreeing with me,” the vampire rumbled.

Anderson sighed softly and glanced down at Shelby, reaching up to adjust the collar of his coat around her neck. She mumbled softly, mostly nonsensically. “I make a fair effort of keeping myself in control, Alucard. Unlike yourself.”

“We haven’t had sex, yet.” Alucard said, emphasizing on the ‘yet’ part. “All on our master’s terms.”

“She’s far too young for me, Alucard.”

“I’m five times older than you, priest.” Alucard pointed out.

“Ugh, you have a point.” he muttered. “Now’s not the time. She needs time to rest and recover.”

Alucard glanced down at his master for a moment before his form grew smaller and smaller, shapeshifting into that of a black cat with red irises. Anderson blinked as the now cat-form of Alucard jumped onto his lap, kneading his powerful thighs before finally circling a few times and then laying down on Anderson’s thighs.

“You’re lucky you’re cute in this form.” Anderson grumbled.

~

Two days later, Shelby was discharged from the hospital with strict instructions from the doctors to rest for at least two weeks before doing anything strenuous. As soon as she got home, she took a bath with Alucard’s help and dressed in comfortable shorts and a long tunic tank sleep shirt. She spent the next week mostly sleeping and resting until the next Monday came along, to which she met with the Round Table in order to verify everything.

“Sir Hellsing,” Sir Irons spoke, standing up as she walked into the conference room, leaning heavily on her cane.

Anderson pulled the tall chair back from the table and held out a gloved hand, to which Shelby placed her smaller hand in his and took his support as she sat down in the chair slowly, to which he pushed it in for her before standing beside and just slightly back from the chair.

Shelby still looked quite rough, as her bruises were still healing along with the lacerations. Her left hand was bandaged to keep the stub of her finger clean. Sir Irons’ gaze softened slightly.

“We are so incredibly sorry that we did not do further investigation on Grimm,” he began, his voice sincere. “We did not expect for him to abduct you and Father Anderson.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Shelby said, shaking her head. She sounded absolutely exhausted. “Although I had been suspicious that he would try something, but not to that of great lengths.”

“Were you able to gather any intel on what he desired?” Sir Angus, an older man with graying hair and tired green eyes asked.

“Alucard was able to get information from one of the men Grimm had hired,” Shelby began. “Grimm’s plan had been to murder me and gain Anderson on his side, thus he would also be able to take over as head of the Hellsing Organization and therefore, control Alucard to do his dirty work.”

Some of the men exchanged glances with each other before Sir Angus spoke again. “And has everything been taken care of?”

“Yes. Alucard made sure nothing was left.” She replied.

“How are your injuries?” Sir Irons asked.

“My left hand was already damaged from being broken before, but with a finger being cut off, I now have nerve damage. I can feel my hand somewhat, but not much. I start physical therapy this week to try and get some strength in my hand back, but the doctors are certain the damage is permanent.” Shelby explained.

“If there’s anything we can do to correct this situation-,”

“There’s nothing you can do, Sir Irons.” Shelby interrupted, shaking her head. “The damage is already done. However, I would like you and the rest of the Round Table to be more cautious when inviting others into the Round Table. I’d like to prevent this from happening again.”

“Of course, Sir Hellsing. That will be our top priority.” He nodded.

“There’s another issue at hand we have to discuss,” she said.

“What is it?”

“I want Anderson to be pardoned of all crimes against Hellsing and the British Government, as well as for him to be freed from Maxwell’s crimes.” Shelby replied.

There were some murmurs among the men of the Round Table and even Anderson glanced down at her with surprise.

“I trust Anderson with my life,” Shelby spoke. “He has proven time and time again that despite his differences with Alucard and the Hellsing Organization before, he has proved himself to be an excellent man.”

Sir Irons couldn’t help but smile softly and he chuckled. “Very well. Alexander Anderson, I hereby pardon you for all crimes against Hellsing and the British government, as well as the freedom from Maxwell’s crimes as well. You are free to do as you wish.”

“I….thank you, sir.” Anderson said, surprise in his voice. “I would like to stay under Sir Hellsing’s jurisdiction. I have found my place here.”

“So it shall be.” Sir Irons nodded.

The meeting concluded and Shelby stood up with a soft grunt as the men made their way back up to the helipad.

“Sir..” Shelby heard Anderson speak and she turned to him. “I….I don’t know what to say…”

“You don’t have to say anything,” she said softly, reaching out with her bandaged hand and gently taking his larger one in hers. “You’ve proven yourself time and time again. You belong here, with us.”

“I agree,” Alucard rumbled from behind Shelby.

“No matter what you decide to do, you’ll always have a home here.” Shelby said softly, giving Anderson’s hand a gentle squeeze.

Anderson was quiet for a moment, as if the wheels in his head were turning a thousand times a second. He seemed very taken aback by her words. Shelby was miles different from Integra, but she held a very strong will that even surprised Anderson, given everything she had been through. “I want to stay here,”

“Then you shall,” Shelby smiled tenderly. “Welcome home, Alexander.”

~

Later that night, Shelby invited both Alucard and Anderson up to her bedroom. She was tired and honestly ready for bed, but she wanted to spend some time with them. She had changed into a pair of comfortable sleep shorts and a long tunic tank, scrolling through her emails until she heard the door open, and she glanced up with a soft smile as Alucard and Anderson entered.

“Master,” Alucard purred, immediately going over to her side. He kneeled in front of her, gloved hands resting on her knees.

Shelby gently stroked his pale cheek with her thumb, and she glanced up at the other man, before patting the bed next to her. “Come sit,”

Anderson approached the bed and sat down next to her. Green eyes observed her frame, noting that while she looked tired, she looked relaxed.

“Alucard has told me that you two have come to an….understanding, of sorts.” she spoke.

“Yes. Alucard is still my rival, but…. we’ve agreed on not fighting unless we’re both feeling the need for some sparring.” Anderson nodded.

“I see,” she said. “He also said that you two have been intimate.”

The priest’s cheeks flushed slightly in embarrassment, and he rubbed the back of his neck, a new side of him appearing. “I….”

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” Shelby said, a soft smile on her pale features. “And I’m all for it. However, if you’re willing….”

Alucard grinned, his red irises glowing softly as he locked his gaze on Anderson.

“I would like to be apart of that as well,” Shelby said, a slight tint of red on her own cheeks. Anderson’s cheeks darkened further, and he stammered, taken aback. “I’m not normally a forward person, or brave in terms of admitting attraction, but I am attracted to you. I think you’re incredibly handsome and you’ve done so much for me, more than I could ask for. And don’t think you’re ‘too old’ for me. I’m almost 30 and Alucard is far older than the both of us.”

Anderson blinked once, twice, almost as if he was confused before that confusion turned into…something that Shelby couldn’t really describe. Relief? Adoration…?

“I’ve been trying to keep myself away from those emotions.” he said, after a moment.

“Well, you don’t need to pretend anymore.” she said with a soft smile.

“And neither do you, master.” Alucard hummed.

“True,” Shelby said with a soft chuckle, before turning her attention back to the larger man. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to kiss you.”

The priest bit down on his bottom lip for a second before he took a deep breath and nodded. Shelby smiled softly and scooted closer to him, before she reached up with her good hand and cupped his scruffy cheek, to which he shuddered, but didn’t pull away from her. She leaned up towards his face, to which he had to lean down towards hers, so she didn’t have to crane her neck so much.

Shelby smiled softly up at him and met him the rest of the way, gently pressing her lips against his. The large man seemed to be tense, but when she gently stroked her thumb across the rough surface of his scar, he seemed to relax a bit. She hummed softly and tilted her head a bit, better fitting their lips together. It felt different kissing Anderson than Alucard. Alucard’s lips were cold and silky soft, Anderson’s were warm and a bit rougher, but still in very good shape. It seemed to be such a simple kiss, but even the simplest of kisses meant everything to Shelby.

And she was sure they met more to Anderson than he let on.

After a brief moment, Shelby pulled back with a soft smile. “How did that feel?”

His cheeks flushed slightly, and he cleared his throat. “Your lips taste like strawberry..”

“My chapstick,” She answered with a soft chuckle. “I don’t like wearing lipstick or lip gloss, so I stick with chapstick.”

“It’s nice,” he mumbled.

Shelby had a hunch it was going to take him a while to get used to being with two people. And that was alright. She was going to have to get used to it too. She had never expected to be in a serious relationship, let alone one with multiple people.

“Will you both stay with me tonight?” she asked.

“Yes, master.” Alucard grinned softly.

“Well come on then, time for bed.”

[shadow-dazed-101]

This is just gonna be one big rant about medical stuff and chronic illnesses (may have trigger warnings for some people)

The last four months have been such a whirl wind and did a complete 180. When I tell ya it really was the definition of the whole “new year, new me” shit, it really is. I went from being almost 100% healthy asides from asthma and clinical depression, to coming to terms with having something that will never go away and is something I had never even heard about before? Going from my yearly check ups with my normal doctors to seeing them every 1 to 3 months along with blood work every 1 to 3 months. I spent 2 weeks in the hospital, went through so many tests from an MRI to having an upper scope done and was under anesthesia two times. I was so sick when I went in my body couldn’t even regulate its own blood sugar levels so I was running fluids, glucose, magnesium and potassium almost the whole time I was there. I was so out of it and the doctors I saw barely told me anything. I didn’t even know what was happening until the day I was released to go home. I still barely understand the extent of it all. Going from taking allergy meds here and there to daily meds, multiple times a day, having to check my own sugar and blood pressure multiple times a day. Medication adjustments. And having to basically fight the insurance company the last few months to have the “emergency shot” I’m supposed to have in case I can’t take my medication in pill form so I can administer it to myself through a needle, which I have absolutely no clue how to do that to begin with. And apparently the fact my pharmacy (after the whole ordeal of trying to get the insurance company to approve it) only gives the syringes needed in packs of 100?! (Not easy to store like you’d think since they’re in packs of ten within the box). Also the fact that insurance won’t cover a medical id bracelet unless you have fancy insurance and have what they call a “cash fund”? I can’t even work anymore so I have state insurance and medical id jewelry isn’t cheap and I have small wrists so the bracelets don’t even fit me to begin with? (I’ve resorted to making my own attachments for it and I won’t lie, I’m trying to sell some along with regular bracelets but apparently it’s not as easy as people make it seem). Half the time I don’t even feel like a person. Constantly in pain, most the time I’m nauseous, I can barely function enough to take care of the animals and take care of my house, there’s days I can’t even do something as simple as shower. There’s almost no support (or atleast that I can find) to help me out and there’s only one support group with other people who have the same thing (Reddit came in clutch on that one) and it’s all touch and go. You’re going based off of other people’s experiences since it’s something apparently a lot of people don’t know a lot about? And the stuff I find online are so basic and just describe what addisons is. Also the fact of how I got it? I’ve been told it’s genetic but no one in my family was ever diagnosed with it or had symptoms that align with it to make me or anyone in my family think they could’ve possibly had it. And right now I’m dealing with symptoms that felt like when I got really sick and lost so much weight (I weighed like 85 pounds when they finally took me seriously and admitted me) and I’m pretty sure it’s because they dropped my dosages? Because I felt great on a higher dosage and could still function pretty normally. Oh also the fact they think I have a hyperactive thyroid too and checking that on my next labs next week. I’ve never thought I’d have my blood taken so much in my life from 1-2 times a day for two weeks in the hospital and now it’s also every 1 to 3 months. They make me do labs the weekend before every endocrinologist appointment I have (sometimes I have to do double labs. One set for my endocrinologist and one set for my family doctor). Everything just feels so hectic and all over the place anymore. And people in my family just assume I’m healthy and can do everything like I used to when I can’t. My body has new limits to it that I’m still figuring out since even that is touch and go sometimes.

[thebedswing]

What Are the Benefits of Using an Outdoor Bed Swing for Meditation and Yoga

Peaceful surroundings bring tranquility and calmness which is good for the wellness of an individual. Outside meditation is one of the effective ways of improving one's well-being, thanks to an outdoor bed swing. This is the best way to practice meditation while focusing solely on nothing as other things cease to exist along with time, only the gentle motion of a swing.

Many people practice yoga as a way to improve wellness and it is their health routine. Incorporating a swing bed in the practice, however, does not only meet the expectations but it takes it to another level.

The following are some of the outside bed swing techniques for improving the mental and physical health of an individual.

1. Prepare the Situation for Meditation

Pick a beach area that has no noise so that the motion of the swing brings no concern.

Concentrate on the respiration and repose in the oscillating movement.

The rhythmic motion of the swing could also have a mobile effect similar to the lulling motion of a gentleness cradle.

2. Yoga and Sway in Unison

This is a simple wellness tool; however, it can work wonders on stretching exercises, especially to enhance balance.

The support of the swing bed will determine how far you can stretch to deep levels.

A lot of poses will feel normal with the swing's motion, such as the sitting stretches, forward bends, or even crushed twists.

3. Mindfulness and Relaxation Structures

In all practices, the need for mindfulness is vital. It takes away the clouds of thoughts through elimination.

The outdoor swing bed provides a soothing effect that presently the breath is easily accessible.

Now, sit in a quiet corner, sit on the swing, and try not to move except for breathing.

The swings will draw breaths and bodies in such a structured manner that it helps in busting stress and anxieties.

4. Easy to Control Movements

If one is practicing the soft version of yoga then bed restraint can be used in order to easily move from one pose to another.

The mild swaying motion also matches the gentle flows, making the experience more fluid and natural.

Especially during recovery practice or in rare occasions when one desires some soft practice then it is particularly useful.

5. Compartment of Healing

After a tiring and stressful day, the ideal place for unwinding is none other than one's swing bed.

Lie down and go into a deep state of silence with the motion of the swing.

Such physique and mental tissue release is potentially enjoyed more by the brain than the body.

Conclusion

A swing bed is more than just furniture for occupying a certain space in the garden; it is furniture used for practicing the mind frame, meditating, or doing yoga. Be it for calming, during breathing, restorative movements in yoga asana or just be it a quiet healing corner - outside bed swings are the place to be. For anyone who wants to get the most out of the outdoors, they need to look no further than The Bed Swing. Specializing in high-quality and strength swings, it comes with a cleverly hidden advantage of a good break. Make your yard a place of zen and see how you will enjoy doing any form of mindfulness, whether it's meditation or yoga, in a way you haven't thought was possible.

[transqueeneli]

A Bottle of Wishes.

Item type: Magical

Level of power: Range falls between extremely minor to full local rewrite of reality. See information below for detail.

Appearance: A sixteen case of twenty-eight fluid oz. sport drinks. The label reads "Wish" and the bottles are all different colors, save for the logo in which the word "Wish" is written in a stylized cursive. The bottles themselves are plastic, clear with a shining liquid with a golden appearance. The case has been opened, with three bottles removed, with thirteen remaining.

Incident report: Our detection wards sensed minimal to massive alterations to the fabric of reality. When I arrived to the town nothing seemed off. When visiting a nearby gas station it was busy and apparently where high school students hung out. I noticed in one of the girl's hand was a bottle of the "Wish", one of the three missing from the case in custody. I noticed its glow right away, but before anything could be done she had taken a drink of the liquid. It shined through her into her belly before without warning my breasts, and every other woman's breasts shrank to A and B cups, with the drinker being an exception with all that breast was added to her own, her clothes magically adjusting to the new fit. You could visible see muscles form and develop so she could support them.

My charm protected me from the obliviousness of the changes. Immediately I pushed to the register, ordering for any of the "Wish" to be turn over to me due to a recall, acting as representative for the producer. The girl, likely because she is the one who drank the liquid, was aware of her changes and hearing me ran away. Out of sight it is assumed she used another wish to escape, as she was never found, though more reality was distorted for a week after till it stopped assuming she had finished the bottle. Its my hope she is alright, and that there are no victims harmed in the wake of inappropriate wishing.

On my demand for the remaining case, the store manager looked over their delivery log. I stated the drinks would have arrived two weeks before. Finding no records of it, they chose to allow me to take it. Fourteen bottles were there at time of recovery. Returned to the vault, utilizing a body transforming item to return my own breasts to their original proportions. End Report.

Uses: Drinking from the bottle after verbally declaring a wish will have said wish granted to a varying scale. The decider is the total amount of the liquid drunk from the bottle. Only the wisher, and anyone like myself with a charm to protect from memory alterations from Reality distortions will notice any changes, no matter how major. For now they will be placed in a sealed container, and hidden in the deeper parts of the vault.

Testing: One bottle was removed from the case for some personal testing. I decided on a single wish to test in three different ways. Three plushies, Each based on Edelgard, Dorothea, and Bernadetta were used. The wish would be for them to increase in size.

Test one, Edelgard. I wished for the plushy to be bigger, taking a sip. It tasted highly of lime, and though from a fridge, went down warm. The plushy doubled in size, keeping its overall appearance.

Test two, Dorothea. Once more a wish for increased size, this time with three gulps. The plushy not only grew, it changed form, becoming a proportional, though stuffed version. A life size version of the Dorothea.

Test three, Bernadetta. The final wish, with a little over two-thirds of the bottle remaining I chugged it down. Empty, I felt it pulse in me, before the plushy vanished. Then a a minor Earthquake shaking the building. Outside I couldn't believe it. While physically proportional, the plus had grown to be bigger than three houses.

Since most of my witchy neighbors and helpers have memory protection charms, they noticed the giant stuffed version of my favorite gal. It appeared the wishes power doesn't prevent other magics to work, and as such we were able to get the plushy, or at this point, stuff doll down to a proper size. She lays in my bed, with Dorothea to be found a place later. The now foot tall Edelgard plush returns to her place , now a size larger than her friends.

Magical Girl and Archivist Elizabeth signing off.

Side note: After all the women in the town has their breasts reduced, the town became famous for its women being known to having the smallest breasts in the world. Due to the nature of how things happened, and considering the proportional reaction "Wish" has there is no way to possibly reverse the effects safely at this time. Should an item be found that can, it will be used to undo the reality warping damage.

[allyrunshermouth]

struggling with identities.

hello! for my fourth blog post, i will be discussing another somewhat personal topic. as a queer black woman living in our current society, i often feel the need to conform to a certain standard. i use they/she pronouns and would love to proudly say i am non-binary, but the fact that i will not be perceived as such outside of queer spaces is invalidating. not only because i want to be perceived for who i know i am, but also because i feel as if i am betraying my black womanhood and my sense of self as a whole. having lived the majority of my life as a cis black woman, there have been experiences that i can not distance myself from or just erase. there is no undoing sitting in between my mom’s legs for hours on end getting my hair braided or being dragged to church on sundays with my entire family. this feeling is polarizing, but while doing some research, i realized that i am not the only one dealing with this feeling. it’s actually quite common amongst people like me. i found two articles that helped me feel better about this internal battle i’ve been having, and i am excited to discuss it further in today’s post.

one of the reasons why i feel as if i would be abandoning my experience as a black woman if i did come out as non-binary is due to how different it is from being a woman within any other race. now, i have not lived my life as any other race, it's simply not possible, nor am i diminishing anyone’s experience (they are entirely valid). but, me, along with other black women, have had to live our lives conforming to societal standards in order to survive, and even then that doesn’t always work. black women are hypersexualized and masculinized on a daily basis, making some of us have to be hyperfeminine or dim ourselves down to prove our worthiness and not cause problems. we have to look, talk, and behave in a certain way in an attempt to avoid these things and be accepted in society. but then, we look at social media and see things that have been deemed “ghetto” for us be seen as “cool and trendy” on women of other races. is our way of womanhood not acceptable enough for the current belief of what it is? or is it only acceptable when exhibited by other women? writers zee monteiro and mare leon answered this question in their works: the current idea of womanhood is not something that is granted to black women, which is why we had to create our own experience.

another reason for all of this is the fact that the gender binary is rooted in racism. the ideas behind what is considered feminine and masculine are all centered around whiteness, making it so those who fall outside of that lens are treated differently if they do not adhere to those standards. there is a different standard placed on black women, and it is a standard that is rooted in racist stereotypes. this is the reason why you will often see groups of us together. we created our own form of womanhood because we are all aware of this standard, which leads us to flock together in an effort to feel that sense of belongingness that we are denied. however, this just feels like more reason to leave the gender binary. yes, things like misogynoir bring black women together, but leaving this gendered idea will not remove those experiences no matter what we do. mare leon touches on this in their work and stated, “i can value and share the love and adoration of black womanhood within the limitations and celebrations of black womanhood and still not be within the binary. my ability to be fluid is simply being human.”

overall, i do not think that this will ever stop being an internal conflict within myself, but it does bring me peace to know that i am not the only one who feels the same way. but, one thing i will remind myself of when i am feeling doubtful is a quote from monteiro’s article in which they stated, “i cannot let the western societal norms, which have also been taken over by many black individuals, tell me how to move within my own body.” i deserve to live a life of happiness no matter how i identify, all that matters is that i stay true to myself.

[mellowwillowy]

- Specimen Girl -

Yan!Dottore×Fem Reader

Dead Dove : Do Not Eat

Yes, it's all based off the lyrics to Specimen Girl's song lol. Also I aint a medical student so let's just pretend what Dottore does is scientifically true lol

Gore description (maybe), delusional Dottore, reader got kidnapped and 'operated' by Dottore (eyes gouged, arms and legs numbed down), necrophilia but you can almost ignore it if you stick with Dottore's delusions, cannibalism (eating your heart), suicide (you and Dottore)

some comfort: Sandrone tried to avenge you but Dottore said bye-bye first lol (don't worry she'll dishonor Dottore's death with Columbina for you instead). I've also toned down lots of things and scenes so yeah, I've warned you so don't come at me

Will mention reader's past a bit near the end of the story.

Word Counts 4.1k

01・Let’s gouge out your eyes

00・that way, you won’t look at anyone else

Dottore's finger dances on your face, his thumb slowly caressing the skin around your left eye. You try to break free from your restraint but fail nonetheless. Bruises formed on both your wrist and ankle, burning from the friction of the restraints whenever you struggle. Your eyes dilate in fear and pain as Dottore presses his scalpel on your lower eyelid.

"Say, Senior, why did you stare at that bastard so lovingly?"

He presses the blade even deeper now, drawing out blood from the cut. You scream from the burning sensation, writhing under his restraint which earns a chiding from Dottore.

"Ah ah ah. If you won't stop wriggling, the operation will not be neat anymore" he chides you as he brings his palm to your tear-stained cheek, blowing wind to your eyes as though he's mocking your pitiful state.

"W-why, wh-why me? Lo-lord Ha-Ha-Harb-Harbinger, I-I have ne-never even o-once shown a-any-"

Dottore shushes you down. He knows what you were trying to say. That you have been nothing but a good citizen. That you have never even once disregarded Tsaritsa nor opposed her rule.

"Like I said earlier, this," Dottore presses the scalpel inside your eye socket, cutting down the nerves of your eyes as you scream in pain "is only your punishment because you've been giving your attention to someone that's not me"

Each second feels like you are being skinned alive, flapping like how a fish would be on the ground. Dottore slowly circles the scalpel around your eyeball, cutting every nerves it can find. Your left eye has already lost its sight the moment the blade cuts one of the nerves, blood flowing out like a waterfall.

"Aw! Don't leave me just yet! What's the point of this punishment if you are not here with me?" Dottore bites your lip, drawing out blood from it. You can feel the steel taste of it and it makes you feel sick. Your stomach can't even tie any knots anymore at this rate.

Dottore humms down a tune as though he is trying to calm you down. It's the tune you used to hum during your study in ʏɿoƚimɿob and almost everyone knows that it's your little song that you'll use to ease people down.

And not for a maniac humming it.

Dottore pulls out your left eyeball easily, observing it closely before he kisses it and shoves it for you to see. Better remember how it looks like before you can no longer see anymore right?

"Go on, observe how beautiful your eye is Senior. Oh? Maybe you should also..." Dottore places your eyeball right next to his beautiful ruby eyes "remember how your Junior's eyes look like" Dottore grins maniacally.

Without being said, you've long memorized your captor's appearance. Ruby eyes, teal hair, and visible sharp pointed teeth whenever he talks or grins.

And how red his tongue is as he licks your eyeball.

Time's up and all you see next is how Dottore places your eyeball into a container with fluids in it. Probably to preserve your eyeball. And what about the other jars? Oh god no. Why did you think about the other jar when you were trying to-

"I won't allow you to avert your thoughts away, Senior" Dottore kisses your right eye, slightly licking it as though your eyes are nothing but sweet candies for him. Again, the scalpel comes into sight and

"So please bear with it, Senior ♡"

The last thing you tried to focus on was his pointed teeth that were revealed as he grinned.

You scream atop of your lungs and drowned into oblivion after that.

04・Let’s cut off your hands and feet

00・that way, you won’t touch anyone else

You might not be able to see anymore but even you can make out where you are right now. A bed. You can feel something tight wrapping around your eyes. Bringing your shaky hands toward your eyes, you can feel just how empty your eye sockets are now.

It hurts.

You cry out but what comes out was not crystal clear tears but instead, blood.

Why must you feel this pain again even in this world?

What had you done wrong to him? You knew he was a harbinger and you had never even once insulted him, right? You cry to yourself before realizing that you are no longer restrained. Run.

And so you run, bumping toward everything but still manage to reach the door. You frantically turn the door knob and swing the door open, running toward the empty hall despite bumping into lots of things.

And you bump into a man. It's not him right? Judging from their groans, it's probably someone else.

"H-help! Help me! P-pl-please! I- I, so-someone" your hands frantically try to find their way toward the man's, looking for support.

Oh if only you were still able to see, you could have seen how the pale the man was as he shook in fear. Even so, the man stayed silent and

Splat

You feel something... gushes toward your face. Some kind of fluid. It doesn't take long for you to identify what it was after the fluids find their way toward your tongue.

The man's body slumped down and you threw yourself backward. What just happened? You don't know, you can't see anything!

Losing your own balance, you fell down on your butt. Still in shock, you frantically feel the blood on your face. Realization hits you and you realize, the man has been killed in front of you. You scream in horror as you wipe your face frantically, smearing the blood even more. It's getting harder to distinguish which is yours and which is his.

"Senior"

Dottore's voice cut your mind in half immediately. You twitch in fear, this man is still here with you. You can feel him walking toward you, his footsteps are not heavy but sharp nonetheless. He stops in front of you, crouching down, he yanks you by your ankle toward him.

"Come to think of it..." his fingers slowly caressing your ankle "I haven't punished your feet too hm?" Horrors shot inside your body. No no no. You have enough of being blind, now to become an immobile porcelain doll altogether? You shook your head vigorously, a bunch of incoherent babbles of begging won't stop him.

"And this hand..." you cry even louder as he yanks you up to your feet "I shouldn't allow it to touch anybody else anymore right?" He gives the back of your palm a kiss "Mmh, let's proceed with it now"

He drags you toward somewhere you don't even wish to know. Smells of antiseptics and blood invade your nose. It's your biggest nightmare now. You thrash under his grip but it barely does anything, especially with how weak your pitiful state is now.

He lays you down on a chair this time, your hands and legs taped onto something plushy. Dottore hums the tune again. Instead of making you feel better, it only makes your stomach churn in fear again. Clinking noises, pokings, and pricking your skin, you feel how the foreign fluids enter your body.

It's not anesthesia to your demise.

Left wrist, right wrist, left ankle, right ankle.

You feel your whole body boiling in pain. Your scream never bothers him as it's much more regarded as music for his ear instead. Your eyes wound reopen as you cry, blood flowing out like a waterfall.

It didn't take long for you to finally choke on your own sobs, how you can no longer feel your arms and legs.

How you no longer wriggle in pain and fear.

Dottore kisses your sweating forehead as he wipes all the blood off your face.

"You did great, Senior ♡"

01・Why did you, although I am here,

00・sleep with other men?

Dottore's eyes did not leave your side even once. Watching every movement like how a predator would. His gaze lingered on your half-exposed chest. Dottore didn't like you showing your skin but he had to admit that your dress did a great job with it.

Your face remained beautiful in his eyes even with the mask covering half of it. You did notice how he was gazing over you despite having his eyes covered by his mask but you brushed it off. Besides, you had a better thing to care for, which was the company in front of you. Oh, how his arm found its way to your waist, pulling you closer to him as you two whispered to each other seductively.

The alcohol definitely helps you two loosen up to each other, sharing kisses before making your way to any chamber available.

What you thought to be a private moment with the man was shattered down. Dottore was in fact, there, inside the room. His eyes were redder than usual, watching you two in fuming rage. Where he was is none of your concern, what matters is that he was there.

A few days after that, the man was announced missing. His mutilated remnants were soon found floating by the river.

03・That’s the punishment for the crime you committed

00・I’m not letting you go anywhere anymore

But he can't do that to you. Instead, he'll break down anything of yours instead of blowing a death to you directly. Yes, your punishment would be way easier than theirs. He wants you to be with him after all.

― ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ, ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵐʸ ˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵐᵉⁿ ―

00・I'll drive a picket into your chest

00・and put you inside a case with a glass door

But, even so, the temptation to learn your heart remains there. No matter how many years it has been, he still wishes to learn how your heart works. What makes you skip? What makes it beat so fast? How does it pump your blood? You wouldn't mind him poking it every now and then right? He'll just pull your heart out and learn it for a moment before returning it back to its respective place.

00・I’ll place that in my room

00・and observe you every day

There has never been a moment where no one sees him without you next to him. Either on a wheelchair or carried by him or his clones. Isn't that nice? This way, you two will never be separated anymore!

He will never be bored observing you who was sitting motionless. Oh, you are the most beautiful doll he has ever seen! Even Sandrone furrowed her eyebrows as though envying his precious creation while Columbina spins out curses toward him because of how she would never be able to match your beauty.

03・Each time I look at you, I feel shivers

00・and the blood in this body boils

Even today too, you can feel Dottore's gazes linger all over you. How he loves to move your hands or legs, how he loves to kiss your cheek while lightly biting it with his sharp teeth. To draw out noises from you, that's all he's asking for. For someone who can't move or see, you surely survived longer than he expected to.

Not like you can do anything after all

04・You are already only mine

06・Yes, you are my Specimen Girl

On some occasions, Dottore will cover your face with a veil, only allowing him to lift it and observe your eternal beauty. Your bandages used to be drenched in red wine but it seems like you have finally accepted everything.

The bandage is pristine white, meaning you are no longer dwelling on your past traumas, reopening the wounds with your tears.

00・That’s right, I’ll preserve you in that liquid

11・That way, you won’t rot away

But this is weird, you've been awfully quiet recently. It's not weird for you to stay silent for almost a whole day but even so, he would never fail in earning a groan from you. He also notices how your skin started to crack up like how an old porcelain doll would.

He places his head on your chest, listening to any kind of heartbeats or it pumping blood. Not a single beat was heard. And you, on the other hand, start to crack even more. Are you a human, or a doll?

Have you ever been a human in the first place?

No human would have their skin cracking like this, and yet your flesh and heart are real. What and who are you? Dottore ponders to himself before deciding to craft some kind of potion for you. One that a living one should never be exposed to.

"Don't worry Senior, this will help you"

00・Silent as the grave, that unique scent

00・arouses me once more

You are as silent as a porcelain doll would be. Some kind of sick, familiar scent is now all over you. And yet, he does not make any complaints at all, instead, he... loves it. The mixture of something rotten and the foreign fluids inside your guts and on your skin, he never has enough of it. It's sickening as much as it is addicting. Sandrone and Columbina's distaste grows more and more even though they can't do anything about it.

As much as they hate his treatment toward you, they have to agree that your beauty was in fact, preserved as how it used to be. Flawless if they discount the small cracks on your skin.

They hate him but what can they do? They have promised you and one should never break their promise. Never.

00・Your now unmoving body

00・I defile without paying any price

You didn't move but he could hear you coming to life again. Has he succeeded in bringing you back to life? Have you finally found your will to live again? Countless nights of learning your heart and brain are finally paid off.

The blood doesn't taste like it used to anymore but who is he to judge? As long as it's you...

Dottore hugs you tightly, his hands traveling to somewhere he shouldn't be. His kisses are greedy and rough, teeth ripping your lip as he tastes your blood in his mouth.

He intertwines his fingers with yours as he pushes his kisses deeper into you. His tongue explores your mouth, clashing with something familiar. Has your tongue always been like this?

―ₐₐₕ, ₙₒw ᵢ fₑₑₗ ₗᵢₖₑ ₑₐₜᵢₙg yₒᵤ ᵤₚ―

The frilly dress is ripped open as his eyes won't stop devouring every inch of your body. Your heart is beating, for him, for him, for him!

Angelic moans can be heard as his finger traces your delicate skin before resting inside your lacy panties. Just because you have found your will to live again doesn't mean you have also gotten yourself a new body. In fact, you still couldn't move at all. Even so, Dottore still tries his best to earn any kind of reaction from you, how your head twitches in pleasure as he teases that one spongy spot inside you.

Oh if only you still have control of your arms and legs, you would probably trap him with your leg and choke him to death.

He has to feel what you felt and yet to your own dismay, all he's doing right now is pleasuring you. Hell knows you wouldn't want him to feel the same pleasure.

His lips found their way again, to your cold lips, neck, shoulder, chest, tummy, and...

"The night is still long Senior, so please bear with it okay?"

00・Your body gone cold

00・when I touch it with my hands I feel shivers

You lay there next to him with the moonlight illuminating all the bruises he made. He can't help it, to pull you closer and closer to him as he pumps himself in and out inside of you. He will always love the sensation of adjusting your limbs to him, giving him a sense of control toward you as he brings your hand to his neck. He knew you wanted to choke him. Judging by you would occasionally clench your jaw and brought your head close to his neck, trying your best to bite the spot where his vein is connected. You wanted to kill him.

And that is your new resolve to live again.

10・I cut open your chest with a knife

00・I take out your heart and eat it

But this is getting into nerves more than he thought it would.

You've been sitting quietly with an unhinged smile plastered on your face. You who didn't really care for your appearance ask him to dress you up beautifully every day now. How you want to wear frilly puffy dresses, how you want a beautiful lacy blindfold instead of plain white bandages, how you want to wear a long white stocking with frills and bows, how you want him to ornate your head with accessories.

And how you ask him to eat your heart out so that he can just kill you right then and there.

"Cut my chest open and eat my heart out" you lean toward Dottore's ears, whispering of what he had long wanted to do to you.

This is in fact, nothing but just a green light for him to pluck your heart out and eat it on a silver platter now.

Eating it all up as though it's his last meal, drinking up all the blood like it's the world's finest wine to ever exist. Oh how Sandrone and Columbina wished they could just behead Dottore's head and offer it to you.

In the end, not a single bits of your heart remained on the plate. It's all in his guts now.

00・With this, your heart is now mine

06・you won’t be able to love anyone but me

He has done it. He has taken your most important thing which is your heart. Your heart is all his now. Without your heart, you can no longer love anyone nor see the truth. Without your heart, you can no longer feel what it's like to be alive.

Your heart is inside his guts now. The feeling of your heart being one with him is addicting. It's proof that you now are only able to love him and him alone. No one will be able to take your heart away anymore, be it literally or figuratively.

00・I return the rest to the case

00・I place it again by my side

Your heartless body remains beautiful. While you start to crack more and more, he'll always know a way to put a stop to it. But even so, he starts to feel paranoid about you.

Every now and then, he can see you strolling with those flimsy long white gowns around the palace all by yourself, humming the old tune from the Akademiya days.

No matter how many times he breaks your leg, you'll always be seen strolling around the palace.

No matter how many times he cut your vocal chord, you won't stop humming the same tune for others to hear.

He hates it. Your voice is only for him to hear. It's reserved for him and him only. Even so, whenever you lay on the operation table while having your vocal chord destroyed by him, you could still chuckle at him creepily. Sometimes, strings of curses can be heard as well.

Dottore will always receive complaints from the other fellow harbingers, about how the maniacal laughter and curses never end. How footsteps can be heard ringing in the middle of the night, how the tune will be hummed in an eerie way, and how the trickle of blood won't stop dirtying the floor.

And so, he sealed your body inside a crystal glass box. This way, you can no longer roam freely and will forever be sealed next to him, for him to be the only one to see you.

00・I won’t let you go for as long as I live

00・after all, you are my

"Senior," Dottore's fingers dances on your glass box, "You will always be my Senior no matter what"

→・―It’s unforgivable―・→

00・From inside the case

06・Look only at me

00・until I die

No matter how tight he ties your blindfold, he will always feel as though it's loosening up. What will happen if the blindfold is taken off? Will you be looking at someone else with that empty eye socket of yours? He can't allow you to look at anyone else other than him! You are only entitled to look at him until he dies.

No, even after he dies, he will never allow you to look at anyone else. Dottore who feels the knot in his stomach tied even tighter than ever decides to untie it. To untie your blindfold and

00・Aah, but you

00・no longer have eyes

02・After all, that is

―because I gouged them out...―

Therefore, he is greeted by your empty eye sockets. Is it delusion? Dottore slowly inserts his finger inside your eye socket as much as he wishes he doesn't want to. Empty. Ah, he really did gouge it out. The proofs are still in his chamber, placed on his nightstand. That way, he can just take the jar and observe it as he tries to drift himself to sleep. Your beautiful eyes never fail to mesmerize him.

B̶̨̨̳̭͎̝́̒̅̂̄͐͠͝u̷̢͉̼̭̗̎̐͒́̓̍̈̎̽͝ț̶̫̬͓̌̽̀̏̍̓͑̿̉͝ ̴̗̯͇̗̜̟̙͇̗̄́̃ȟ̶̯͐̀̎o̵̻̺̬̦͙̘͑͆͌̅̑̒̔́͘͘w̷̱̗͂̉́͊̎͝ ̶̳̹͕͖͎͖͉̩̱̎̽̈́͛ả̴̝͇͇͍͍̙͇̩͙̯́̋̔̽́̔̚͝b̴̨̛̦̲̩̰̣̲̦̻̆̉̀̀͊̊̎͐̽ọ̸̢̨̡͔͔̮̜͖̀̄́̈́̕ͅu̵̡͖̥̬̤͕̺̓̓͋̈̌͆͋͑̐̚ͅẗ̴͉͚́͐̄ ̶̡̢͉̪͕̥̝͐̄͐͜a̴̛̳̭͔̰̠̎̄̑͛̏͑͝͠ ̵̭͆͑̍ṕ̴̧̥̥̜͖̭̞͇͉̾̀̿̉͐͗͂̒ą̷̨̲̱͈̹̣̘͈͗̔̎͋̀͠i̴͚̜̎͆ŗ̴͙͈͖̝͉͔͙̭̲̀͐̉́ ̶̢͓͍͙̩̺͍͊̈͛̅o̴͈͕̞̩͓͑͒̈́̊͋̓͐͌̏̕͜f̶͔̜̫͔͍̥̓̑̋͘ ̴̧̧͕̞̮̭̠͐͌͆̽̇̍̒̈́͊ȅ̵̤͔̘̥̳̤͓̘̇̋͠y̵̨̱͒̇̍̾è̷̠͉͋́̏̆́̽s̶̹͚̟͕̣̓̑̐́̀̓̏͋͝ ̵̢͕̜͓̩̠̠͙̆͗̈́́͑͂̀̀̒̕ṫ̸̙̣̫̪̜̫͊̌̓h̵̩͊͂a̴̟̯̤̣̼̪͎̠͆̋́̇t̶̨̞͓̤̮̀̽̾̊ ̵̗̜̹̱͔̲͖̙̼̗̆́̅̒͠͠ĺ̴͉͙̀͘o̶̥̟̦͖̯̱͖͌̍̑͐̅ǒ̸̢̞͎̹̜̗̥̱̰͌͌k̸̡̹̮̀s̷̡̪͕͖̭͉͉͈̞̀̀̔̈́̎̾́͋̉̋ ̴̨͍͙̥̰̮̂̃͋̆̕͝ͅļ̶̛͌͌͗̉̄͌̒͜ị̷͚̫̈̕ķ̶̛̳̠̹̳̯̣͙̤̰́̑̓̒͆́̓͝͠ê̷͉̺̘͓̻̜͖͜ͅ ̴̺̳̭̳̫̱̌̓̌̌̃͜ͅh̷̛͚̜̞̬̲̥̪̅̄i̷͎̿̀̆̔̚͜͝͝s̸̜̩̞̣̝̓͆̑̌̄̚͜͠͝?̸̹̲̝͙̞̝̟̌͜

00・I’ll put glass beads in your eyes

02・Let’s make you new eyes

09・What eye color should I choose?

02・That’s right, a red like blood would be fine

But to use some kind of fake eyes would be boring no? And so, a clone of his was burnt down in the incinerator with empty eye sockets.

01・With those beautiful eyes

00・look only at me always

This way, he can feel you staring at him again. No, he will never recreate your eyes even though he can. It'll never be able to match the real one after all. He won't even bother looking for someone to take their eyes because he doesn't want someone else's eyes staring at him and even worse, inside your eye sockets.

04・Only you from now on and always

01・I won’t let you go from my side

He won't repeat the same mistake anymore. To be weak and hopeless as he watched you leave the Akademiya in humiliation, all to the way of being exiled out of Sumeru without anyone protecting you.

You didn't do it. He knew you didn't do it. And yet, no one would believe in you two as though they had been blinded by something. To make things even worse, your little friend was absent during your exile. If only she was there, perhaps she could shield you from the crazy citizens throwing you pebbles and rocks. Maybe that way, you wouldn't trip down from the cliff and be pronounced dead from concussion.

Maybe people wouldn't gawk at your dead body and broken limbs as though you were nothing but an animal. For them to step on your off-positioned limbs, your splattered brains, and your body altogether.

How did you come back to life? He'll never know it. Maybe Sandrone truly had something to do with it after all.

But for now, what matters is that you are here with him.

07・After all, you are mine

09・From now on and always mine

02・Until this body rots away

00・Yes, you are my

『Specimen Girl』

Sandrone's voice rings.

―Only mine―

―Only mine―

Sandrone places the gun on the back of Dottore's head. She had had enough of this farce already. She no longer cares about the promise she made to you. She wouldn't mind being selfish for this is her only wish. She will avenge your death by shooting his brains out.

『Only mine』

What she didn't expect is that Dottore would be the one shooting his own jaw, splattering his brains all over Sandrone's pristine dress. His body slumped forward with a thud. He ends his own farce in the end. Is it out of guilt or realization? Did his madness and delusions finally swallow him whole? Even so, Sandrone wastes no time in spitting Dottore's body before stomping and dragging his body to be experimented on in the most inhumane way possible. Columbina too will be there to lend Sandrone her hand.

𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬

There is another fic (and possibly more in the future) about Dottore x Senior but it might be different than what's mentioned in reader's past

Zandik's Memories, Dormitory (TBA, WIP)

Zandik's Diaries (TBA)

Senior (different but similar nonetheless)

As if for Sandrone's and Columbina's, I don't think I'll be writing for them until there's a request coming in for them lol

Inhumane (TBA)

Dormitory's Lullaby (TBA)

All these fics will be extreme OOC in both lore-wise and characters so proceed with caution.

[exovapor]

Hello fellow INFJ!! I decided to come out of hiding and submit an idea for your brain to run with and hopefully develop into a blurb.

So Leo…. What can we say about the serious but (I head canon) easily flustered turtle that is all about respect and honor? What could he possibly think of their partner body worshiping them.

I mean who wouldn’t worship this!

Can I just say I would start with an intimate kiss to the forehead then work my way down from there 😉

Hi sweetie. My apologies this took so long to get out to you but other stories and life got in the way. I hope you consider this worth the wait. I did pull in a lot of INFJ tendencies for the reader and I hope you can connect with 'her' and see yourself in her. Thank you SO MUCH for trusting me with this Ask. I am honored and blessed that you sent in this idea and I hope I did it justice.

Just beware: The initial idea for this story was to follow it through the exploration of more of Leo’s body and to allow the passion to blaze, but as this story developed and took on a life of its own, it felt complete right in this moment with them. However, there is more still in my mind, so if you would like to see it progress and you would like a part two to this story, please let me know.

Body Worshipping Leo

· You never thought you’d get to see this, you think to yourself as you watch the fluid movements of his body run through their daily katas.

· You had arrived earlier than you had expected. Earlier than they had expected. It was courtesy on Master Splinter’s part to offer you a seat on the edges of the training area for you to watch their daily practice. The old rat’s comforting voice carries over to you from the middle of the affray, giving corrective instructions and words of praise to his pupils.

· They, all four, move with precision, finesse, and power; but his movements have a little something extra: Art and grace.

· From his handsome head, which is always calculating, strategizing, anticipating, down to the soles of his feet, which are steady and planted, yet swift to take flight at a second’s notice, everything about his movements, his body, screams perfection.

· Yes, watching him move is mesmerizing, breath-taking, even at times, soul-wrenching.

· You feel a stubborn lump form in your throat that will not ease, but at least it silences the hiccups that threaten to escape from your awe-struck sobs.

· The beauty that his body is creating is just too magnificent to behold and not feel emotionally moved. So, you gently weep watching his contending-inspired dance as you would weep over any masterful performance.

· Another sniffle escapes you and you subtly wipe a stray tear away from the corner of your eye before any of them can take notice of your emotional state. It would be disrespectful to cause a scene and distract them while you were invited in on such a private and profound family routine.

· You have been a common addition to their small group for a while, yet you have only been ‘officially’ dating the eldest terrapin for a few months. A smile ghosts your lips at the memories of how naturally it everything blossomed and came together. You have never been felt more connected and comfortable with anyone in your life. Leo is like the other half of your soul and being with him has a feeling of being complete and content.

· Well…sort of content. The pragmatic leader moves with caution in all things and your relationship is no exception. While you two have shared many hours of cuddling in front of the tv or while reading, and a few chasten pecks to the lips when greeting or parting for the night, Leonardo’s lips have yet to linger long enough on your skin to allow any type of passion to ignite between you.

· While you aren’t exactly sure of the reasons behind his slow pace, you have guessed it has something to do with your differences.

· He seems to be very careful around you. His hands stay in full view and his movements are deliberate and soft. He tends to let you initiate physical contact and his hugs are never too crushing. There seem to be tense moments after his soft kisses, his penetrating eyes search yours for untold secrets. It is like he is studying your reaction, looking for minute hints of aversion or doubt.

· As you watch him spin in a full body twist to evade a punishing blow from his sparring partner, Raph, you make up your mind to change the languishing conditions of your relationship. Such a beautiful creature needs to know that he is accepted.

· You mentally scoff at the overly simple word ‘accepted’. No, he isn’t just accepted; he is, without a doubt, cherished and loved.

· You hear the Sensei call for them all to come in close and kneel. He pairs his hands in a triangle before him and bows his head and shoulders prior to addressing his pupils. After his moment of reverence, his quiet, yet sage voice speaks of how proud he is of their continued progress and teamwork. He offers each one a moment of individual wisdom and then dismisses them. The old rat offers you a kind smile from across the room as the boys put away their weapons before he moves off to his meditation corner.

· Each of the guys start filing out of the dojo past you, going to get their showers and move off to their regular hobbies. Leo is the last to head toward the exit. He is diligent about making sure that the area is clean and ready for the next lesson. As he approaches the edge of the training area he offers you his hand to help you rise and blesses you with a sweet smile before bestowing one of those chastened kisses to the top of your head. You inwardly sigh to yourself, wishing it had at least made it to your lips.

· Again, you see his bright eyes searching yours intently and you hope that your eyes are no longer holding on to pink hues from getting emotional. “I am sorry you had to wait for me. Is everything okay?”, he asks, still grasping your hand and pulling you along with him to the general living space. Damn it, your eyes must still be flushed.

· You are both now standing in the living room space and a very active Mikey is bouncing on the sofa cushions and yelling into his gaming headset about “ambushing campers!”. You swallow hard and try to steady your voice so that it, too, doesn’t give you away, “Actually, Leo,…I’d…uh…I’d like to talk about something with you.”. Leo’s stride falters as he turns to face you, you can see a disquiet in his clear eyes, his brow knits together in concern. If you were a mind reader you would have heard the alarmed voice going off his head, ‘this is it, she’s telling me that a mutant turtle isn’t what she’s always wanted, she can’t do this anymore. Just look at her eyes, something is upsetting her, she must have been crying over telling me’.

· Another overly animated exclamation about “dirty, cheating, no-good-camping-losers” flows out of Mikey’s mouth and you glance his way at the volume at which he’s yelling before you look back at Leo’s handsome face. “Perhaps some place a bit more quiet?”, you suggest to him, which does nothing to belay his internal discomfort. He licks his lips, which now feel as dry as a desert, and tries to steel his voice, “Yeah, sure. We can talk in my room.”, he gestures with one hand in a ‘ladies first’ motion.

· As you walk past him you try to offer a smile, but your own nerves are starting to get out of control just by the plan you have in mind. You could be about to lose the best thing that’s ever happened to you just by pushing the boundaries. If you are wrong and his caution isn’t about differences but about something else, you could be dooming your relationship by pushing too hard too fast. As you enter Leo’s unadulterated bedroom, you take a deep breath and turn to face your blue clad terrapin.

· Leo closes the door and seems to be unsure of what to do next. He’s still standing just behind the door, looking at the ground when his solemn voice breaks the silence, “So, what do you want to talk about?”. Your heart clenches a bit when you notice that he didn’t look at you when he asked the question. Does he suspect your angle? Is he already thinking of things to say to placate you or let you down easy? Your anxiety level starts to peak.

· “Can you…can you come over and sit down? This is pretty important and I need time to explain”, you say while rubbing your hands together out of nervous habit. Leo nods his head and walks over to the bed, but you notice that he gives you a wider breadth than he normally would when he walks past.

· Leo sits heavily on the edge of his bed and looks at you expectantly. Now it is your turn to lick your overly dry lips. Where to begin? You twist your delicate fingers to the point of popping one by accident, which snaps you into motion…quite literally. Another nervous habit when discussing important things, you pace.

· “Leo, I consider the day I met you to be one of the best days of my entire life”, you say, glancing at him as you pace by him, to the walk to the wall and back. “You are smart, kind, considerate, confident, and truly amazing…”, you say leaving it hanging in the air for a moment while you think about your next words carefully. How do you tell him you want, no you need, more connection with him? That you are in love with him, as a whole being, and that he doesn’t need to be afraid of what he is with you. You know this is new territory for him and you don’t want this to seem like an attack on his experience. You also don’t want to seem inconsiderate or unappreciative of his kindness and respect.

· “But…”, you hear him say from his seated position on the bed. You turn to him. You're a little shocked to hear a ‘but’ offered up, did he think you were pulling away from him? You study him for a moment and notice that his body language has changed dramatically, his once squared shoulders are slumping, his jaw is clenched in tension, and his once clear eyes seem dim.

· Seeing him looking…defeated and resigned…you take pity on him and decide to throw all caution to the wind. You are feeling bad enough by pushing him for more intimacy, but now, if he thinks you’re trying to leave him, that is even worse.

· You walk quickly to him and cup his face in your hands to make sure he hears what you say clearly and thoroughly, “There’s no ‘but’ Leo. What I’m trying to say, and obviously failing at it miserably, is that you are undoubtedly the best thing that has ever happened to me. I want to let you know that I admire you, that I adore you, that I cherish you, that I love every single thing about you, that…that…I think you are sexy”, you finish quietly, more than a little embarrassed by being so forward and using the word ‘sexy’ when you can barely get him to kiss you.

· Leo sits looking at you, making sure he’s heard you right. You two have never really discussed things of passion before now. Sure, he’s told you that you were pretty and beautiful, and you have always reciprocated with comments of how you thought he was cute (while you blushed as red as Raph’s mask), how you treasured his smile, but that was as far as your adoration of his body had gone. Sexy, that’s more than just a step up from the compliments that you have shared in the past. It’s more than he had dared hope for from someone as beautiful as you. He is, after all, an overgrown turtle. He has hard scales, not soft skin. He had hoped that, in time, with enough patience and kindness on his part, you would be able to eventually look past his exterior. That you would be able to see the good, caring person inside the hard outer shell. He NEVER thought you would ever consider him physically sexy. He honestly a little stunned by the comment, especially when he was expecting this conversation to go completely different. He sits staring at your face, “Sexy? You think I’m sexy?”, he asks a little incredulously.

· A little frustrated that you are having to repeat yourself when you aren’t the best as being this forward in the first place, you take a deep inhale and look deeply into his eyes. In his seated position you are just above eye level with him; so, before your repeat the words, you lean in and place a lingering kiss to his forehead. He watches the movement from his subjacent position, closing his eyes when your lips press into his plated brow, remaining long enough for the warmth of your lips to spread across his scales and down into the center of his chest. He inhales your scent, as sweet as confection, and he swears he can taste your sweetness on his tongue. Finally, you pull back and say, “Leonardo, from the top of your head, down to the bottom of your feet, I find you beautiful and, yes, sexy”.

· The normally confident leader sits in utter silence. His blue eyes are speaking volumes, they are shining with disbelief and hope. They are asking you if this is true? Is this real? Is this a dream? But his lips stay silent as you watch the storm of confusion and confessions roll through him.

· Deciding that your down-to-earth, sober, practical beau needs a little more convincing, you embark on your plan of showing him just how much he means to you, how much you appreciate his contrasting form. “I know you have your routine after training and that you hate breaking your routines, so I’m going to tell you how sexy you are as I help you get ready for your after-training shower.”.

· His eyes go from happy and shining to expanding in size and panicked looking, “Uh, no, you don’t have to do that...”. But you don’t let him talk you out of it, to silence his rebuttal, you quickly press your lips to his, making him choke on his words with the tensity of your attack. You stay pressed into his lips, moving yours in a caressing motion, opening them slightly to dab a touch of moisture on his bottom lip. This kiss is much deeper than the two of you have ever shared and your heart is racing from the feeling. His lips are initially tense from the surprise, but as your plump pout fondles his, adding dabs of your inner wetness for lubrication, you feel him exhale and relax, folding in closer to chase the tastes that you are offering him.

· Not wanting to push your luck with taking the kiss deeper, you pull back to cup his face again and gaze into his eyes, “Leo, trust me”, you plead earnestly. Despite the lingering doubt in his eyes, he gives a dip of his head, to convey he’s putting his trust in you. “Let’s get that mask off of your dazzling eyes”, you coo as you reach back to slowly pull at the knot that secures his signature color to his features. As you pluck at the knot, Leo’s hands start to rise to help, only to be halted mid-path by your small hands securely grabbing his,” Nah-ah. I’ve got this. Here, you hold on here…”, you say leading his sizable palms to your hips, “…now don’t let go.”.

· You hear him clear his throat and feel him tense up slightly from the placement of his hands and the command that was just given. As the binding of his mask finally gives way, you gently lift it from his bald head to stare admiringly at his naked face. Good god, he’s gorgeous. He’s handsome with his mask, but seeing his natural green face, unbroken by its swatch of blue, he’s breath-taking.

· You are lost in that thought as you stare down at him and, for you, time seemingly stands still. But, for Leo, he’s a little flustered at your enchanted stare. He feels vulnerable without his face armor. No one but his family has ever seen him in this way. The mask does more than signify who he is, it helps to hide parts of him that doesn’t quite fit in. Without his covering, it is more striking how hairless his reptilian face really is. You can now see that his eyes are not framed by thick arches of eyebrows. It is more noticeable and apparent that his Aquamarine eyes are not lined by fans of lashes. There are no helixes, antihelixes or pinna making up shells adorning the openings of his ear canals, only thin flaps of membranes protect his inner ears. The muddled markings of his yellow toned under-skin is highly contrasted by his vert scales and the long scar that crosses one side of his face is on full display. Despite the fact that he is still fully clothed, and it was only his bandana that you removed, he feels fully nude under your consistent gaze.

· You can see the hesitation and uncertainty in his eyes, you can see him intently searching your face for clues about how you feel viewing his testudinal face. Slowly, almost as if in a trace, your left hand rises to lightly skim your thumb along the crest of his bare brow ridge. However, following the movement with your eyes isn’t enough tactile stimulation for you, so you lean in to brush the soft curve of your lips over the hairless peak as well. You breathe in deeply and take in his heady essence, a mixture of salt, earthy musk, with notes of teakwood and clove oil. You exhale at the center of his brow bridge and state, more desperate than you wanted to sound, “You smell so good”. Leo hums in an appreciative tone, seemingly at a loss for words at your close proximity, but you feel his grip tighten on your hip bones as his own breathing deepens and becomes more forceful.

· Leo’s mind is almost at shut down mode. Of all the time he has spent around you, even cuddling you, he has never felt you this much. These touches, these connections, are on another level. The heat from your fingertips and lips seems scorching and the sensations are traveling to places that you aren’t even close to touching. Your scent appears to have changed since this exploration began, it feels more potent, it is overwhelming and stirring fires that shouldn’t be ignited, but he can’t help but drink it in, filling his lungs to capacity with you.

· Your fingers circle down to brush across his textured cheek before they glide back to pass over those shell-less ears. Your pout continues its expedition of his pebbled face, moving from the bridge of his brow, sliding a sensual line down his pronounced snout and placing a feathery kiss at the tip between his wide set nostrils. You lean your forehand to his as the two of you try to steady your breaths, your eyes closed, enjoying the moment of closeness and intimacy for the first time.

· Finally, you pull back and survey his face, your eyes connecting with his as if you were touching his soul, “Leo, you’re beautiful. Even saying that seems…inadequate for how much you move my heart”. You watch his cerulean eyes turn soft before he asks, “What did I do to deserve you?”.

· Again, you lean in and place another kiss to his lips. This time your efforts are met with eager reciprocation. Gone are the tentative pecks that he used on you in the past, now his mouth actively seeks full connection with yours. You can feel his hot breath escaping from between his lips that are parting more and more with each pass of each caress. As you start to pull away again, aiming to continue your praising of his body, you swear you feel a small nip to your bottom lip followed by a slight rumble through his chest.

· Smiling at that your plan for pushing the intimacy boundary has gone so well, you pry his left hand off your right hip to continue assisting with getting him ready for his shower. Still keeping eye contact with him, you lift his large hand to your face and place a prolonged kiss to each of his three fingertips before you start to unwind the sports tape that is encasing his palm and his wrist. As you unravel the bindings you place a kiss to each newly uncovered surface. Your nurturing efforts earn you another interesting rumble from his chest, this vibration sounds more enduring in length, almost like a purr.

· Leo swears his heart stops each time your rosy lips touch a fingertip. His eyes watching the movement of your tasteful petals stroke across the surface of his digitals. Tension setups in his body with each press of your pout and things twitch each time sensual suckling sound leaves your mouth. He berates his body for betraying him and dishonoring you as you show him such adoration. He tries to keep his thoughts from straying too far from respect, but good heavens your lips look and feel too inviting…the thoughts find a way in not matter how hard he tries to deny them.

· As you finish your kissing of his palm and wrist of his left hand, you slide your hands up the rest of his arm, becoming aware of the rippling tension in his forearm, circling over the angle of his elbow, allowing your own palms to ride the waves of his large tricep and bicep, smoothing him over as you go. As you reach his left shoulder, the left arm that you just stroked and petted, loops around your hips and pulls you in close. His head lowers down to snuggle into your abdomen, almost in defeat. Leo can’t take it anymore; he feels a natural, primal need to bury himself in you somehow and the most honorable way that he can think of doing that is to embed his snout into you and breathe you in as deeply as he can.

· As Leo hides his face into your midsection, you pull his right hand loose from your body and begin to fawn over it as you did his left. Each inch of tape that is untied, unwound, and bestowed with a kiss has Leo feeling more bound to you. He senses you stealing parts of him soul with each touch of endearment. As your hands slide up his arm, the muscles tense and flex, begging for attention. Each kiss you plant to his textured skin earns a graveled, desperate vocalization from interred terrapin.

· When you reach his right shoulder, you are now fully encircled by two massive arms and his face is refusing to leave your stomach. Every now and then, as he nuzzles his head around, giving into to ancient, primitive desires to mark you and cover himself with your scent, trying to dig deeper into you, he places at kiss to your tummy which shoots electricity straight down to your core. Your unique perfume is starting to become noticeable, which is not helping Leo’s predicament at all.

· As you stand fully trapped in his arms, his head dug into you as deep as he can push without causing you pain, you can feel him panting, growling, and even at times you think you pick up the sound of whining. To soothe you turtle beau, you run your nails up and down and across his shell. The action causing reverberation through his boney carapace, which flows down his back and creeps up his neck, soothing and tickling all at the same time, for a turtle it is a petting akin to ecstasy.

· As you hear his panting ease and feel the tension in his shoulders and arms subside, you cup the back of his bald head to your abdomen with your right hand, cradling him there for comfort, allowing him to rest and just be close and held by you. Your left hand runs itself over the back of his shoulders and on the delicate skin hiding underneath his shell, stroking him down from the high. It’s a moment of intimacy you never want to end. It feels so natural, so right.

· Eventually, his head dips, the top of his cobblestoned head taking the space where his face was embedded into you and you hear him whisper toward the floor, “I love you”. Your body gives a little shake from the chuckle that moves through you and as you pet the back of his head and neck, “I love you too, Leo.”. Mission successful.

· Finally, he lifts his gaze and holds your stare as he stands from the bed. Your eyes follow him obediently, never breaking contact. He’s towering over you, looking down at your petite form, and then pulls you in for a hug. Your body molds into his, touching as many surfaces, at once, that you can touch. Relishing the connection, the lack of limits and boundaries. You feel his hard form encircling you, protecting you, cherishing you.

· “I don’t want to let you go”, Leo whispers into the top of your head. Again, you give a small chuckle and tell him, “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. Go get your shower. I’ll be here when you get back.”.

· You hear a resigned sigh from above you, you feel his fingers under your chin, demanding that it lift. Your face follows the silent command, and your lips are met with kiss so full of passion and love that it steals your breath away. Before he pulls back completely, he gives one of those cute pecks to the tip of your nose, “Okay, I’ll be right back.”.

· You watch the other half of your soul grab his towel from a hook on the wall and leave the room with a profound look back, his eyes telling you without a doubt that he’ll always be with you.

@turtle-babe83 @echosoftheocean @kokokatsworld @tmntspidergirl @nittleboo @alittletworaph

[sli-writes]

Essay: Picture vs Painting

Johannes Vermeer. Girl Reading a Letter at an Open Window.  c. 1657–1659. 

For Francis Bacon, painting was “mysterious because the very substance of the paint, when used in this way (of idea and technique being inseparable), can make such a direct assault upon the nervous system; continuous because the medium is so fluid and subtle that every change that is made loses what is already there in the hope of making a fresh gain.”

Material is everything, the energy and emotions associated with the material all the more important. One of my teachers, Lorna Ferguson was so pleased with me getting paint on any and everything (much to my personal dislike at times as I valued some of the objects I had ruined to create something); for a while I could not understand the marvel, as I thought; ‘well, what other way is there to work with said substance.’ It never occurred to me, at least in the way of the artists mind, that painterly was being concerned with making the idea and technique of painting inseparable. I won’t speaking on being (an artist) - hard as it may be, but I’ve covered that in my previous article - but focus on the idea and the substance.

Michelangelo. David. c. 1501 – 1504.

Another one of my teachers, Ricky Burnett spoke of the ‘history of a painting’; which I interpreted as the realm of the invisible. I believe the object has to take up space in a way that it too exudes an energy, an idea that is made more complex when there are sentients in the space, it ultimately speaks to its power, of which is the result of its creator, involuntary or not. I have an issue when the objects is of nothingness, static and unimaginative. Minimalism is a great example of this, namely in the art of architecture, photography to painting itself. How can it be said that an object carries any sort of character if it is pristine, wherein it’s function has no interest in the material as forming part of its function and results in its being fixed and changeless. It is a result of such functionality, or rather, lack thereof that the object carries no sense of presence in that it becomes just another object in space disconnected from its surroundings, thus ultimately alienating itself from humanity.

Ricky Burnett. Troubled with Goya 3. 

Ricky Burnett. High Windows 2. 

The makings and process of the objects should in themselves be studied, understood and appreciated in their materiality, most importantly in a way that they take into account the service to humanity and its relationship with time, history and ultimately the heritage of mankind’s culture. I believe that with this approach, humanity serves the object too resulting in a relationship that is ultimately symbiotic. The concept of symbiosis is one some artists and a larger group of designers have let go of, it makes the work easier, quicker and at no real cost to produce as it cares not of what it is in service of or to whom and as a result of its innate purpose.

The realm of invisible is learning to make these connections, meaningful ones with all that is around us and we’ll begin to feel, most importantly, interpret in the way of our individual being. Because you see I believe that the process is reflected in life of the painting/object - take for instance a Vermeer who layered multiple layers on thin glazes of paint each carrying their unique emotional state of the artists or Michelangelo labouring for just over 3 years on his David sculpture). The lack of such connected process results in an art that does not appear to show signs of time or even care for it; objects lose identity as they disconnect themselves from their creator and, most importantly, the generations they are a result of, leading to a worthlessness to the object. Such worthlessness is dangerous because objects lose any sense of importance, as having nothing to say to anyone or reflect on anything, a disconnect that dismisses their desire to be preserved;  this is how a people are erased from history.  Minimalism is now a job for artificial intelligence, the insentient.

King Koi Konboro. Great Mosque of Djenné. Thirteenth century

 Donald Judd, 15 Untitled Works in Concrete, 1980-1984.

Sir Giles Gilbert Scott. K6 (Kiosk No. 6). 1935.