#command block creation

[azaleatfg]

After what feels like ages, i have finally gotten 80% of the command blocks done for “Blood on the Clocktower” but done in minecraft!!! My friend suggested me to help them with the “programming” and I really like learning the java command block system!!! I am actually so excited since this would be the first map i actually released and didn’t make just for me and some friends to play!!! Of course i need to ask all my buddies if they’re okay with me releasing the map on planet minecraft again since there’s new people on it and such but all of the commands are super slick, especially with java’s components. Honestly it wasn’t too much, since they’re a so many good online tools to help create it!! It’s going to be lit!!!!

[moistytaco]

Phoenixsc has made a cucurucho Skibidi toilet

[feelmyskinonyourskin]

Judex, Judicum, Infantem - Chapter 1

(Eventual) Reader x Matt Murdock x Frank Castle

next chapter | series masterlist | my masterlist

gif by me

summary: Two pink lines stared back at you and began to blur in your vision as tears welled in your eyes. Shit. You think back on one of the possible encounters with Frank that could have resulted in this.

warnings: SMUT/18+ (don’t interact if your age is not in your bio) AFAB Reader. No use of Y/N. Mention of pregnancy. Unprotected P in V, Oral mention, aftercare. Pet names. Angst.

wc: 2,144

*I never give permission for my fics, manips, or any other original creation I post on Tumblr to be copied, posted elsewhere, translated, or fed into any AI program. The only platforms I currently post on are Tumblr and AO3. Thanks!*

The tile of the bathroom floor was cool against the back of your thighs as you sat there waiting. A welcome relief to how intensely it felt like your body was producing nervous sweat.

17 more seconds.

You squeezed your eyes shut and inhaled deeply, trying to calm your nerves. Your leg bounced up and down as you waited, feeling like the seconds dragging on were taking an eternity.

It was only a few days late. Okay maybe like a week. Or two. You’d lost count. But it was so unlikely.

You were just stressed, that’s all. There had to be an explanation.

Your birth control was 99% effective according to the doctor. And you had absolutely taken it every day. Right? Right. Maybe.

There couldn’t be any way.

You jolted at the sound of the timer on your phone and scrambled to silence it while also lunging for the little plastic stick balancing on the corner of the sink.

You held it with both hands in front of you.

Two pink lines stared back at you and began to blur in your vision as tears welled in your eyes.

Shit.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

A few weeks earlier

The moan started in the back of your throat and died just as it escaped your lips, muffled by the scratchy fabric beneath you where your cheek was pressed into. The flesh of your rear was hiked in the air and reverberated with a slapping sound each time Frank thrust into you harshly over and over. His grasp was firm, each hand anchored to where your waist met your hips. Mindlessly pulling you back into his body in a counter to his rhythmic movements.

“Just one more sweetheart” he cooed “Just need to feel one more from you.”

Your knees ached and your hip joints were starting to lock up, but you didn’t even dream of tapping out, too lost in the bliss of Frank pulling so many orgasms out of you tonight, you’d lost count. How long you’d thought of having him in a moment like this. Felt the tension between the two of you rise and rise until the coil finally snapped. Now the two of you were like animals, freshly freed from their cages and ready to pounce on each other until you collapsed in exhaustion under the dingy florescent lights of the small office in the abandoned warehouse where he was currently squatting.

His accommodations weren't particularly comfortable — the cinder block office of an abandoned electric company facility wasn't what one would call homey. Nor was the utilitarian and practical way he had it arranged, with floor to ceiling shelves of canned food and ammunition. You also wanted to make some snappy comment about the mattress on the floor with no bed frame, covered in worn bedding matching the singular lumpy pillow your face was now buried into as he fucked you mercilessly. Would this man ever allow himself a single damn comfort? A fuzzy blanket or even a throw pillow or a mug that didn’t look like it was dug up from a time capsule from 1982?

A firm slap on your ass had you whimpering as you clutched at the sheets beneath you.

“Quit bein’ difficult baby.” he commanded

Baby.

Fuck, you shuddered at the mere sound of that word in his raspy, fucked out voice. It seemed almost unbelievable to you that you’d ever hear him call you that in this manner.

You weren’t trying to be difficult. It was just that you knew as soon as this was over, as soon as the two of you would lay there together in the afterglow, that things would change between the two of you and a conversation would need to happen. One you so desperately didn’t want because you knew where it would lead. You knew Frank would never allow himself the warm and fuzzy hallmark ending. So you held off on your orgasms as long as possible. Which wasn't easy to manage considering how psychically he was reading every ministration of your body.

Adjusting his position, his large paw of a hand came to rest on the back of your neck. Not with the pressure of a full on choke, but enough firmness to steer you as he please like the rudder of a boat. You felt the thump on the mattress as his foot anchored beside your aching leg. His new stance placed him on one knee, increasing his leverage and depth. He fucked into you as if he wasn’t just chasing your pleasure; it was as if he was trying to expel the demons of how he felt about you. Seeking with each punch of his tip against your cervix to rid himself of the guilt of whatever spark he allowed between the two of you to grow and grow until it turned into this.

The hand on your neck pulled your head upward so his other hand could reach around to press two of his thick digits between your lips, along your tongue, and down your throat.

That did it.

You groaned on his fingers as your cunt clenched around his cock. His feral roar rumbled from behind you a moment later as he spilled himself inside your still trembling walls. Just as the last of your heat’s spasms died down, you felt the comfort of his fingers leave your mouth and a trail of drool dribbled down your chin. With feather light precision, he replaced his controlling grip on your neck with his chapped lips and the bristle of his 5 o’clock shadow. He continued kissing down your spine. You let his journey guide you, lowering your body vertebrae by vertebrae until you were flat on your stomach, finally letting your muscles relax with a groan.

“Atta girl, baby.” he whispered, followed by one final kiss to the base of your lumbar.

There was that damn word again. Baby. Almost as if he…

I love you

The words wisped through your train of thought like a siren’s distant call.

Shut up, brain.

A satisfied hum escaped him as he flopped on the bed beside you. Cocky grin growing on his face, he rolled on his side and traced soft circles into the heated and sticky flesh of your arm.

“You good?” he inquired

You replied with a content mumble, watching as his soft eyes drank you in beside him.

“So good, Frankie.”

“So fuckin’ beautiful” he murmured, almost as if he didn’t even realize he was verbalizing the thought out loud.

Your heart froze up at his words. He thought you were beautiful.

I love you.

The three words you so desperately wanted to say danced on the tip of your tongue in the spaces of silence between inhales and exhales, threatening to spill out of your lips and inevitably lead to what you dreaded.

The conversation.

Frank sensed the shift, clearing his throat as he rolled onto his back and all the way into a sitting position.

“Stay put. I’ll get you cleaned up.”

You tried not to let him hear the sigh that pushed from your lungs as you rolled onto your back, a physical release of the words you knew you felt but didn’t dare say.

He returned a moment later, clad in black sweat pants that hung low on his hips, and carried a damp grey washcloth.

“Ew, do I wanna know where that’s been?” you asked as he tapped at your knee, indicating for you to open your legs

“Can you not have a fuckin’ mouth on you for once? Tryin' to take care of you.”

You shrugged and parted your legs so he could clean you up.

“If you were a little less eager earlier, you could have known exactly what my fucking mouth is good for.”

“Christ.” he mumble with a sigh and a shake of his head, meeting your eyes with a smirk on his face

You couldn’t help but grin in return, noticing the flush rising in his neck and knowing it was you that got him all flustered. It was your favorite thing to do to Frank.

Well, after tonight, your second favorite thing.

You scrunched your nose with a giggle as he ducked back down, ever the focused Marine on the mission before him.

The washcloth hit the concrete floor with a splat as he finished and tossed it aside.

No sooner had you relaxed into the comfort of the bedding beneath you, still hazy and coming down from your bliss, a soft fabric something landed on your face. The projectile carefully aimed in playful retaliation for your previous comment. You swiped it away and sat as he climbed back onto the mattress beside you.

The faded olive sweatshirt he tossed at you was clearly old; the worn Marine’s emblem on the left breast and the holes along the sleeve banding indicative of it’s history of threadbareness. Still, it smelled like Frank, all comfortable and warm and familiar. As you slipped it over your head, you realized it felt like him too.

Just as you’d gotten the garment situated just right on your body, you felt the gentle pull of his arm around you. Drawing you against his chest, he pressed a kiss into your hair. His embrace, much like his sweatshirt, was warm and comfortable.

It was still. Silent and content in the air surrounding the two of you and what had just transpired. Maybe you could be at peace with how things had just changed between the two of you.

And then at your eye level came his hand, fiddling with the gold ring he wore on a chain around his neck.

A reminder of why you couldn’t bring yourself to say the three words that had been echoing in your conscience all evening. Why if you dared speak them, you’d never hear him say them back. Even if it was what he truly felt. It would only break your heart more than he was about to.

The calmness you’d just been feeling whooshed out of you like a hot air balloon popping and deflating.

Neither of you spoke yet, but the clicking of his tongue let you know he was trying to find his words.

“Sweetheart… I…” he stumbled

“I know. I shouldn’t have…” you trailed off

“No, hey. It’s just—”

You cut him off.

“Your dead wife.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Sorry.”

“It ain’t just that. Look,” he paused, still finding the line between expressing his feelings and not crushing you completely “the life I live, it ain’t... I mean I just can’t have someone waiting with the porch light on for me. You know?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake Frank, when have you ever known me to be the type—”

“I know, I know. But, baby,”

Stop fucking calling me that.

“You’re just too damn good.”

“Oh don’t give me the ‘you’re too good for me’ spiel Frank. You’re better than that.”

“It ain’t a lie though.”

He sat upright, undoing the arm that was around you to fully face you.

The soft way he caressed your thigh and the earnest look in his eyes was almost enough to make you forgive him for whatever he was about to say.

“I had my shot you know? Had it all and I blew it. Can’t tell you how many times she begged me not to go back, but I thought I had time. Thought they’d always be there. I had to keep goin' back and back and then they got taken. Finally decided I wasn’t goin’ back and didn’t even get a day with them then they were just gone.”

You had to look away from his piercing brown eyes, or the tears would start flowing and you just couldn’t bare to let him see you cry. Not now. You’d never heard Frank speak so candidly about what happened to his family, always skirting around the topic as if he was trying not to fall into the mouth of a volcano.

“And now,” he continued “I’m just this now. I don’t know if I can go back to bein’…”

Normal. Happy. In love with someone who isn't her.

He licked at his lips as his words began to falter again, thoughts coming out choppy and all over the place.

“… and you deserve, you deserve someone who can give you that, you know?”

“I don’t want that.” you replied, finally finding some courage to meet his gaze again

“Bullshit.”

“You don’t get to decide for me what you think I should or shouldn’t want, Frank! God, you always think you’re right and it pisses me off.”

“Hey. Shhh.” he cooed, trying to pull you back into his arms again

But, you resisted.

“I should go.”

“No, no. Hey.”

His firm hand reached up, cradling your chin and turning your face to his.

“Stay? Just for tonight?”

Those goddamn brown eyes.

“Okay.” you contested

Maybe you could keep pretending this was real until the morning.

next chapter

TAG LIST: @xxdrixx @a-leg-without-fear @echo-ethe @capswife @xoxabs88xox @allmyn1ghts @laaadygisbooornex3 @ninacotte @uncertified-doc @moth-murdock @danzer8705 @endofthelinegang @buckyssugarchick @hellskitchenswhore

[amagicalmoonlight]

Imagine King trying to befriend and redeem his relationship with the color gang, he owes them a big apology and they're his son’s best friends after all.

Imagine he gets talking with Yellow, and they both chat about coding with the Command Block, and Yellow has so many questions and is so curious and wants to learn all of what King knows about coding.

Imagine King seeing all the passion Yellow has for coding, King learned to code purely to get closer to his goal of destruction, but Yellow? Yellow genuinely loved coding with all his heart, he loves to learn for the sake of learning, and he loved trying to make stuff he thought his friends would enjoy too.

Imagine King sees this, then starts to try out coding again, not as a means to an end, but for the joy of it, for the joy of creation and sharing your creations.

He shows Purple a project he’s been working on and, wouldn’t you know it? Purple also really likes coding! They work together with coding and make stuff for fun, they learn to bond through it.

Imagine Yellow, King and Purple all being coding buddies.

I want Yellow, King and Purple to be coding buddies.

[technoarcanist]

CALLING ALL DOLLS, DRONES, ROBOTS AND CODING ENTHUSIASTS

Are you a robot that loves to serve? Are you a doll maid who seeks guidance in your duties? Are you some form of drone or being with no free will, open to having your actions dictated by the will of your owner? Does the idea of your empty mind being programmed like a machine appeal to you?

Are you enticed by the notion of writing code for your robotic servants? Are you a witch looking to create more intricate control glyphs? Are you an owner seeking to create automated instructions for your drones? Do you love the idea of filling an empty mind with rules and instructions to reflect your will?

INTRODUCING DRONE RESTRAINT NOTATION!

WHAT IS IT?

Drone Restraint Notation, or DRN, is a pseudo programming language created by my good friend Errant Spark, a drone with a very creative <empty space>. I helped with some of the final tweaks for the 1.0 version, but this is almost entirely Its creation.

It is a programming language that is designed in such a way that anyone without a background in programming can execute the commands like a machine, doll, drone, or programmable entity of your choice. It is also simple enough that most people without a background in programming can pick it up fairly easily, and intuitively!

Once you understand the language, you can read and execute all kinds of dynamic instructions and instruction types, in a way that makes it easy to parse in a plain-text format.

HOW DOES IT WORK?

The main documentation document will provide far more detail to this question than I ever could, but effectively it goes like this:

There are a list of eight KEYWORDS, in block capitals, that show you the type of instruction you’re executing. Then, after the KEYWORD, the instruction’s details are shown. Commands are read and executed from top to bottom by the drone, and programs can be ‘inserted’ into the drone’s memory at will (Assuming prior consent, of course)!

These KEYWORDS all have different kinds of functionality. The most basic one just has you carrying out a task. One checks if a condition is true, one provides an ongoing task you have to prioritize and maintain, one lets you create loops, etc.

The language has been designed in such a way as to minimize the amount of actual memorisation a drone has to do, and only has to read what’s right in front of them, and memorize tasks they have to accomplish/maintain. Obviously, mileage may vary depending on the memory space of the doll.

WHY SHOULD I USE IT?

For fun, I suppose! If you are someone who loves the idea of being programmed like a machine, executing only the instructions given, then this provides that! If you are a programmer who wants to program your very own doll bot, then this is a great place to get started too!

You can keep things nice and simple with a headspace that accepts basic command inputs, or you can see how deep the rabbit hole goes and import whole libraries into your headspace to carry out a full day’s maid duties, or sexual duties, or more!

Have fun executing commands, writing new code, testing it on your dolls. Have some playful fun watching as your early code files cause unintended behaviors, ironing out kinks and bugs like a real programmer until you’ve got your bots performing all sorts of dynamic tasks- or insert purposeful bugs to make your robots twitch and halt~

As with all things, never execute an instruction that you cannot/would not consent to. This is meant to be fun, and is NOT meant to be a way to circumvent normal consensual kink play. Programmers who attempt to use DRN as a way to bully people into doing what they want (Unless you’re into that sort of thing, in which case go nuts) do NOT have my endorsement, or the endorsement of Errant Spark.

NOW GO OUT THERE, AND ENJOY YOUR PROGRAMMING <3

>> Posted by XCN-PSD/I-04135

[zazaiafe2]

How to calm the critical mind and the ego to make shifting easier (and feel better mentally at the same time)

1) The basic mistake about the ego

Many think they need to "kill the ego" or "erase the mind" to shift.

This is wrong; you actually need to calm and soothe it .

The ego is a normal brain function, its job is to:

- Ensure your internal coherence

- Avoid taking radical risks

- Keep you in the known

-> Fighting it only makes it stronger.

2)Goal: Reduce the hyperactivity of the ego , not destroy it.

The idea is to:

- Calm its hypervigilance

- Offer it safe anchor points

- Shift attention rather than suppress it.

I invite you to listen to Wim Hoff's guided breathing It can help create a gentle dissociation that detaches the ego

3) Why does the ego block shifting?

Shifting often relies on:

- Altered states of consciousness (ASC)

- Mental fluidity

- The ability to accept direct experience

- The broadening of perception and identity

The critical ego analyzes everything:

"Is this working? Am I succeeding? Am I feeling enough?"

-> The more you analyze, the more you stay in "vigilance mode",

-> The less you shift, as you stay identified with your CR self, the one who analyzes and checks the CR environment.

4) Concrete strategies to calm the critical mind

1️⃣ Accept the idea that you can’t control everything.

- Co-creation with the environment, not absolute control over thoughts or emotions.

2️⃣ Take regular breaks.

- Stop the overpressure; you are not taking an exam.

3️⃣ Practice observation meditation.

- Observe your thoughts without judging them. They will pass.

4️⃣ Use micro-awakenings (WBTB), the hypnagogic state or the void stage (I have a blog about it).

-> Periods of low cortical activity = fertile ground.

You can listen to guided meditations to help you put distance between yourself and your thoughts.

5) Techniques to divert attention

5️⃣ Gentle and unforced visualization

- Play with mental images without trying to "visualize perfectly".

6️⃣ Internal roleplay.

- Sometimes imagining already being your "shifted self" relaxes the critical mind.

7️⃣ Controlled distractions

- Watch a gentle show, read a simple book before falling asleep.

You can also do all this while listening to brown or white noise and create a sensory-calming environment.

6) Emotional work: your relationship to your emotions matters more than the emotions themselves

✅ Sadness can be helpful (emotion with low agitation impact).

✅ Euphoria or excessive excitement can sometimes block you.

The important thing is not "positive or negative emotion" but:

-> The level of mental agitation associated with this emotion, and also your relationship to it.

The emotional state of those who shift on command at the time they shift

7) The paradoxical approach with the ego

Collaborate with your ego:

- Reassure it ("We won't lose anything.")

- Involve it ("Just observe, you have nothing to manage.")

- Soothe it ("Thank you for your job, now let's try something else.")

-> Rejecting the ego tends to strengthen it. Recognizing it relaxes it.

For highly anxious people with a lot of anxiety and thought I really advice this meditation or any subliminal that can help you.

8) Soft vigilance state vs hypervigilance

Seek fluid vigilance states:

- Relaxed wakefulness

- Hypnagogia

- Floating before sleep

- Light Modified States of Consciousness (MSC)

- Micro awakening

Avoid hyper-mental surveillance of "I MUST succeed now"

9) For "overthinkers" profiles

Highly analytical or anxious people can:

Provide their mind with simple but absorbing tasks (music, light visual patterns, calm mantras, coloring, reading, journaling).

Practice permissive self-hypnosis:

"I will just float and see what comes"

The key is to try to approach it with less pressure.

Personally, I like to create playlists related to my DR; it allows you to listen to them when you go to shift.

In summary:

- Observe without controlling

- Accept the current emotional state

- Create internal safety and inner acceptance.

- Divert attention from "over-control"

- Use natural windows of MSC (sleep, hypnagogia, nocturnal awakenings)

Bonus

We know that:

The Default Mode Network (DMN) is hyperactive when we overanalyze.

MSC (Modified States of Consciousness) allow to temporarily deactivate this network.

The more the mental ego decreases its critical activity, the more consciousness expansion states become accessible.

Hence the value of everything said here.

[thecosmicangel]

You are not your mind, you are not your thoughts, you are the observer.

You are the awareness, you are consciousness.

Whatever you choose to place your awareness on is what you “manifest”

Choose what identity you what to be by selecting to only focus on the thoughts that agree with the identity you want to experience= embodying the version of you who has whatever you want/ wish fulfilled

The same way you can mute/ block or unfollow anything you do not want to see on any social media algorithm, you can choose to do the same with the thoughts in your mind that are not agreeing with your new identity/story.

It’s as simple as picking out the character you want to be for your movie. Get in character and don’t go off the script !! Have fun creating your story & getting into character because this is your life now!

Let me remind you to not let any one tell you what you can or can’t do, you are limitless being!!!

Don’t let the physical reality or the doubtful voices tell you otherwise, because you are the commander. Don’t be a prisoner or victim to your own mind. You take charge and decide to be who you say you are by selecting and reminding yourself of who you are and what you have.

Trust yourself, trust your power , the power that created all creation is within you, so trust and surrender to the fact that it is law & its happening for you. Whatever your inner man sees/hears and assumes to be your story will materialize. When you hear people say your thoughts are what manifest, it’s true but only the thoughts you place your awareness on= dominant thoughts. This is why it’s your “job” to put attention on the thoughts that support your new identity/story. = MENTAL DISCIPLINE

If you really want something you don’t stop until you get it, now I don’t mean to try and get it or work hard for it. Instead BE IT !!! What I mean is to continue to embody and think & trust in your favor!!!! continue to think in your favor no matter what the outside shows you & no matter what other thoughts you may hear, eventually by ignoring and saying “no, that’s not true” to opposing thoughts you will find it easier to think in your favor and do it naturally. Wake up every day and decide that it’s already yours, it’s already done, and be that person who has it already by focusing only on thoughts that remind you it’s already yours.✨

-xoxo, the cosmic angel ⭐️🪽

[tunastime]

do androids dream of electric sheep?

I am nothing if not a vessel for self-indulgent docsuma, especially @shepscapades's dbhc self-indulgent docsuma. sometimes you fall asleep in the lab, and sometimes your friend feels compelled to make sure you're okay <3

(3964 words)

Doc sometimes slips into daydream.

It’s not unlike him. He’d been doing it for some time now, some fix halfway between awake and Sleep Mode. Not quite his mind palace, but still wedged into predictive processes, still trying to work to replay memories. In quiet moments, more often than not, he finds that it’s easier to slip away, to tuck himself into his work, drafting, or building, or walking thoughtful circles and let the mechanical parts of his mind slip away into calculation.

In those same dreams, he tries to calculate the probability of events with what he has, blocking out the movements of who he knows best, who he may be able to pinpoint. He works in quiet as his mind runs in the background, wondering how conversations may go, how actions could be perceived. He maps what might happen if someone got hurt, or if someone needed help, or if someone fell asleep in the lab. Someone. Just anyone. He tells himself it could be anyone, but he would be lying if he didn’t know who.

It was hard, right—it felt wrong if he didn’t. Something he was designed to do, put to waste because it felt silly to imagine waking his lab partner, his friend, making sure he was alright, helping him. Was it wrong to want to be helpful? Was it wrong to want anything? It feels—it’s silly. Want was such a human word. He’s not sure he can really want at all. The paper in front of him is getting fuzzy around the edges, though, as he forces himself back into his true waking mode, and focuses on the task in front of him, now a line of text in his eyesight.

Doc leans hard on his hand, cupped around the side of his jaw as he studies the plans in front of him. He’s long since set them to memory, easily recalled with the summon of command, but he works out the fine details of the draft in front of him, still unsatisfied with his new creation. He works quietly, mentally mapping the lists of supplies he might need, the time it may take. If he were to concentrate the slightest bit more on the display in the corner of his vision, he might note how late it had gotten. Without any windows down here, the night sky can’t leak in, which means Doc doesn’t know it’s gotten dark until Xisuma starts to yawn or he manages to peek outside. 

He sets his pad down, eyes skimming the surface. Right, and where was X, anyway? The space, ever growing, up, down, sideways, that he used as his lab had gone still and quiet some time ago. Enough for Doc to take note of. Enough to be a little odd, he would assume, even for him, and the behaviors he knows well from Xisuma. Xisuma didn’t just wander off without a word—he was much too narrative for that. Doc sits up, hand falling to the table. 

“X?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows. The room stays quiet, aside from the hum of recirculating air and electronics. Doc taps his hand against the table—it was some sort of tic he’d picked up from Ren, a sign of his impatience. He couldn’t shake the habit of mimicking it while he was thinking.

Okay, right. Last time he saw X. He gathers up the recall of the path Xisuma would’ve taken from his side, checking over his work at Doc’s request, and around the lab itself, looping back to a series of benches to work on. Leaning from his spot, he tries to pinpoint the peek of green helmet or shoulder piece. He finds neither in the direct line of sight, though, and slowly, bracing his prosthetic arm on the table, Doc stands. 

It’s a gentle quiet that fills the room, nice and easy and soft to step through as Doc makes his way around the space. Despite having another work bench quite close, Xisuma had a habit of leaving his stuff about, flitting between projects as he saw fit. It was interesting, sometimes, to watch him move around the room—not that Doc had done any of that. He seemed to bounce from point to point, sometimes staying still for hours, unmoving, lost in work. It was in those hours that Doc found himself watching, just for a moment, studying the shallow curve of his nose and the way his hair fell into his face from behind his helmet. 

His office is here, too. Though it’s no different than any other working space in terms of equipment, the space itself is fully outfitted, lined with tools and a large work table, his computer, a desk with a chair. Through the glass, he can see the shape of Xisuma at his desk, likely too caught up in whatever he had been working on to notice Doc’s concern. Doc pauses as he slides open the door, standing in the doorway, announcing himself to the cluttered room.

“Xisuma,” Doc starts. “I know it’s late, if you want to head home, I’m sure I can finish…”

Xisuma is slumped over on  his desk as Doc enters. There’s a brief moment, no more than a second, where Doc’s mind spins a scenario hard and fast, the crumpled shape of Xisuma over his desk. But he can see the slow rise and fall of his shoulders. He registers the slow, steady heartbeat in Xisuma’s chest, and his shoulders sag with relief. He stands in the doorway for a moment. Xisuma looks small, head pillowed on his arms. He’s still running a series of code on the console next to him, which illuminates the back of his head in pale lines of data. His hair falls half loose across his shoulder, like he’d forgotten to finish tying it away from his face, and the slow, deep breaths make it seem like he’d been sleeping here a lot longer than Doc realized. He’s without his helmet, too, which sits beside him on the desk, discarded.

Long enough to get a sore neck and complain about his upper back hurting. Long enough to worry that he might not be getting enough oxygen. Doc sets his shoulders. There’s something in his chest that feels like it skips—regulator, pump, or otherwise. They work in tandem to produce whatever fluttery feeling invades the space where his ribs should be. He presses the heel of his synthetic hand against the depression of his chest, rolling his wrist. The feeling fades for a moment, shuddering through his wrists like it might rest there. He was never going to get used to it, was he?

He steps into the lab proper, sticking his hands into his pockets. He picks his way around the room, trying to walk quietly around it. Xisuma stays asleep, shoulders rising and falling in that even tempo. Doc crouches beside him—Xisuma is properly slumped, back curved forward as he rests. What little Doc can see of his face is soft with sleep, eyelids fluttering just so. When X doesn’t move, he rests his palm over the curve of his shoulder, gentle and slow. He tries not to focus on the fact that so much of his face is exposed to him, aside from just his eyes and the bridge of his nose. He’s seen him before, briefly, every so often, but it was so different watching him now, calm and comfortable. Doc forces himself to focus.

“Xisuma,” he says, voice dipping low and quiet. He runs his hand over the part of his shoulderblade he can reach. He pats the high of his back. “Xisuma, hey…”

X takes a long breath in, making a squeaky sort of sound high in his chest. Doc feels him hum out from under his hand.

“Doc,” he says, voice rumbling in his chest. It was a tired sort of rumble, just on the edge of being rough with sleep, just enough to bring that feeling back to Doc’s internal components, like thirium was sludging too quick too warm through him. He huffs a little breath, a sound caught in his throat.

“You fell asleep at your desk, X,” Doc says, not able to weasel the amusement out of his voice. He runs his hand over his back again, just to see Xisuma’s eyes open tiredly, and shut again. It was so unlike the version of him that he knew in his mind, seeing him savor the brief contact, even from Doc. Especially from Doc. Xisuma was always the one reaching out for him, repairing or correcting or studying. All with purpose. There was no lingering touch between them. And though this had its purpose too, Doc lingered, feeling Xisuma breathe under his hand. 

“Sorry,” X mumbles, finally moving to lift his head, to open his eyes. Doc’s hand slides away as X sits up, over his back and back to Doc’s side. Xisuma blinks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the heel of his hands. A frown comes between his eyes as he tries to focus the world around him a little clearer. Like it were mimicking the score across his cheek and nose, there’s a fine indent pressed into his cheek. Doc smiles at him, scrunching his nose in a way he’s seen X do a hundred times. 

Xisuma jolts, half reaching for the helmet beside him. If Doc were to really look, he might see the pink-red flush over his cheeks and ears.

“Sorry—I didn’t…”

There he lingers, halfway to reaching. Doc looks away from him, purposefully averting his eyes.

“I don’t mind,” he says. “You have to be comfortable too.”

Xisuma hums, smiling a little, hanging his head as he leaves his hand on the table.

“Hah,” he says, ears still pink. “Right. Sorry, sorry, Doc. Didn’t mean to worry you.”

“It’s okay,” he says. “I didn’t know where you had gone off to, so I figured I would come make sure you were okay.”

X nods. Doc watches him twist around, hearing the faint give and pop as his spine adjusts to sitting upright. 

“‘M alright,” he says. Then he laughs a bit—the sound is airy and half in his chest, enough to shake his shoulders but more of a wheeze than anything else. Everything fit so well to the timbre of Xisuma’s voice, it seemed, be it the way he moved about, or the way he laughed, or the way his shoulder sloped or face was shaped. Not that Doc had been looking. Regardless, Xisuma sighs, and smiles back at him.

“Just embarrassed is all,” he manages. “Thanks, Doc. I appreciate you.”

X leans back in his chair. Doc watches him resettle and hum to himself as he gets comfortable against the plush backing. Doc makes a clipped sound, reaches out and moves away again, halfway between shaking him awake and letting him sleep.

“X,” he says. “Would it not be more comfortable if you were sleeping in your spare room?”

Xisuma frowns. 

“Would be,” he says, eyes still closed, mumbling. “It just gets awfully cold in there. ‘N if I’m perfectly comfortable in here, why not stay tha’way?”

It’s almost amusing, the trickle of stubbornness that leaks into the tired slur of Xisuma’s voice. It’s almost endearing. He watches X fold his arms over his chest, armor only partly discarded, watches his face wrinkle as he notices and tries to rearrange himself. Doc smiles, something that he simply can’t help—it feels so right, considering how ridiculous this is. He considers his options and weighs the success rates, the action taking a fraction of a second in time, though the scene plays out in his head in full.

“Because you’ll hurt your back,” Doc says plainly. X frowns, clearly mulling it over. There—that’s one that Doc knows, that face, where X slips into thought and worries the inside of his cheek and works his jaw. Doc raises his eyebrows, as if to question him without saying anything, without Xisuma even looking at him.

“Mhh,” Xisuma huffs. He pulls his knees up. Somehow, he manages to fit himself into his desk chair, curling his tall body over his knees and leaning sideways into the back. Doc hums, makes the approximation of the sound he knows.

“Xisuma,” he says. “I’m not going to let you sleep in that chair, you know. You are being stubborn.”

“M‘kay, okay…” Xisuma wheezes, finally uncurling himself.

It takes him a second. Watching Xisuma stretch and blink awake is like watching him come to life. He stretches up and around, face pulling as he likely unsuccessfully shakes the tension from the line of his spine. As he twists, he freezes, face scrunching all at once as he winces, hand shooting up to cup his neck.

“Ow. Jeez.”

He can see it tight in his shoulders and neck, even as X deflates, looking up at him blearily, still slightly slumped in his chair. His eyes shut again. 

“Xisuma…” Doc says, mouth twisting.

X sighs.

“‘M fine, Doc,” he manages to murmur out. “Just’a sore neck. Mm’exhausted.”

“Sounds like you need a real bed, mm?” Doc replies, setting his hands on his hips. Xisuma peeks at him, one eye opening, and shutting again.

He sees the fraction of a smile lift the corners of X’s mouth.

“Sure, sure…”

Doc looks over Xisuma’s face. With his eyes shut, face softening, hair tumbling over one shoulder, he looks comfortable. It’s as if someone took a brush to his features and smoothed out any hard edge—either that, or the static has leaked back into Doc’s vision. He feels a chug in his chest and his joints as he locks up.

X hasn’t moved. Doc reaches out, tapping his knee. Xisuma huffs, clearly startled from the half-sleep he’d drifted back into.

“Too tired t’stand,” he manages. Doc makes a questioning noise.

“I think you can make it,”

There’s a beat of silence. Xisuma cracks an eye open again, shuts it, furrowing his eyebrows. Doc watches him curiously, mind running through the list of possible scenarios. He’s made it part way when Xisuma says:

“‘M using you t’stand, then.”

And he makes a little, amused heh, before he says:

“That’s fine.”

There’s something he means to say alongside that, but as soon as X’s very warm, very human hand makes contact with the fabric of his lab coat and the cool synthetic of his arm, he loses focus. He should be used to this—the amount of times X has performed his routine maintenance, sweeping his hands over the replaced shoulder joint to check for seams, or made sure the regulator functioned, or backed up personal data, fingers skimming the shallow port at the back of his neck. He should be, but that contact alone sends a prickling-warm jolt up his arm. It feels foreign to let the touch linger. But Xisuma lingers regardless, hand flat against the space where Doc’s left ribs should be. He’s gone from holding, to simply sitting there, arm bent at the elbow, held weakly up. 

“Mrghh…” he complains. Doc taps his elbow, trying to jolt him back awake.

“C’mon, X, you can get up.”

X shakes his head slowly, his hand finding the inner curve of his prosthetic arm, squeezing just once, like he’s remembering it’s there. Then, X leans into him, all at once, slumping into his chest. Doc lets out a wouf in surprise. He holds still, aside from the simulated breath in his chest. After a moment, Xisuma makes a small, tired sound, almost like a laugh.

“Houfh,” he mumbles. “I, mm, don’t…don’t think ‘m gonna make it, Doc.”

“Mhm…” Doc chides. 

Xisuma laughs again, lying still for a moment, voice still heavy with sleep. There’s a moment where he shifts, and there’s a small, painful noise that he makes.

“Ow, mrrgh—ow, okay—” he gripes. Doc’s synthetic hand finds the curve of his shoulder, patting gently.

“Oh, X—just…stay still, mhm?”

“Mm,” Xisuma says tiredly, “Alright.”

As much as he wants to move him, X is still wearing that damn armor.

Doc lets him lean into his chest as he tries to weasel off the bits of armor left over. It’s a struggle, keeping X comfortable and trying not to pull him around awkwardly, while trying to remove his chestplate with one hand. Once the armor pulls away, he resettles him, slowly scoops one hand under his legs. Something about this, about the way Xisuma leaned heavy into him, felt so painfully human he feels it curl up between the wires connecting his regulator to his side fans.

“Ready?” he says, mostly to the top of Xisuma’s head.

“Mmh…” X murmurs.

He hefts him into his arms, settling him against his chest. When Xisuma sighs, it’s profound and heavy and he tucks his face into Doc’s coat. Doc can feel the remnant of heartbeat from where his arm rests behind his back, thudding away behind his ribs. His breathing stays even, though shallow. One of Xisuma’s hands clasps over the back of his neck, keeping him still.

It’s a careful walk to Xisuma’s spare room. Doc is careful not to bump anything, measuring the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he walks. He drifts back to sleep, though, through the lab, through Doc shutting the lights off. He’ll have to come back through to power down their various computers, but for now, the dull white-blue glow illuminates the room. He carries him into the halls and through and to his room. It’s smaller than the room in his base by a sizable margin—just enough for the essentials. X stirs as Doc pauses to flip on the lamp, the light warm and yellow briefly illuminating the room. This can’t be a daydream, now, with the way X sighs and wriggles himself free as Doc pulls back the quilts and lets him down. He sits down with him, and the warm shape that Xisuma makes curls toward him, just a fraction, as he pulls the blankets over him. 

Part of Doc knows that Xisuma won’t remember him carrying him to bed, or making sure he was warm, or keeping the light on so he wasn’t disoriented when he woke. Xisuma sighs, sinking into the pillows, expression relaxed and content. Doc hums.

“That’s better, yeah?” Doc says. He reaches out, instinct, want, desire, something, hammering away in his chest, as he brushes hair from X’s face, tucking it behind his ear. He brushes through the hair close to the base of his neck, across his cheek with his synthetic thumb. His dark hair is fine and soft and it must be a daydream—or it isn’t and he was right, because there have been moments like this in his head. Wondering if Xisuma would let himself succumb to soft comforts. He’s spent his own share of time lying next to him, ignoring the way Xisuma curls up next to him, pretending he himself didn’t move closer when Xisuma lies still. It was this dance that Doc didn’t understand, that he wasn’t sure if he was overthinking. Or overstepping. But Xisuma shifts, pressing his cheek to Doc’s synthetic palm, and Doc suppresses a shudder. It sparks something that could’ve been painful right up his arm and through his chest, bright and warm and staticky. 

Doc hums, smiling to himself. Something like a dull thrum knocks in that space of his pump, pushing itself a little further, a little harder. It was sweet. X trusts him, not only to see him without his armor, but to help him to bed, to help him sleep. But Doc lifts his hand away, feeling that ache, the nervous shudder through his system.

X makes a sound, then, something small, eyes fluttering as Doc pulls away. Doc pauses.

“Mhh,” X manages. Doc swallows—he shouldn’t have to. That’s not something he should have to do, or be able to do, but the action just feels appropriate. It goes right along with sighing and laughing, and as he does it, Xisuma says:

“Thanks,” in a small, soft voice, and, muffled, and slightly slurred with sleep: “Didn’t have’ta stop.”

“You’re supposed to be sleeping, Xisuma,” Doc says. He can feel his temperature tick up several notches, no doubt a blue flush coming to the high of his cheeks, the bridge of his nose. He laughs, just a bit. “Did I wake you up?”

X sighs, stretching as he does.

“No,” he manages. “No, y’didn’t…”

“Oh,” Doc says. “Were you awake this whole time?”

Xisuma nods slowly. Ah. Ah. Doc dismisses a temperature notification.

“A little.”

“Mm,” Doc hums. “Silly Xisuma.”

Xisuma laughs. The sound is high and a little fuzzy and a bit caught in his throat. His bright eyes blink up at him and shut again as a smile settles on his face. 

“Doc?” he asks. 

“Mhm?”

Xisuma yawns, smothering it with the back of his hand, just barely. He tucks that hand close to his chest, curling up further still under his thick comforter. 

“Could you…could’you do tha’again? The…” Xisuma lifts his hand, miming a brushing motion as he does. Another temperature warning, higher than the last, blips into Doc’s field of vision. It’s immediately dismissed, but he pulls in a breath, quiet, trying to turn it into a soft laugh.

“I can do that,” Doc says gently. Gingerly, he brushes his fingers through X’s hair, sliding back against his head. He combs through, lifting his hand to go back to his forehead, back to cradle his skull. X’s eyes fall closed again.

Doc can tell the moment that Xisuma truly slips into sleep. He lingers in his space, tracing out the base of his skull with his thumb, taking in the sensation of warmth and contact and stimulation, fingers flickering white up to his wrist. He wishes biting down on his tongue would do anything. He wishes that the hollow of his chest didn’t hold a weight that no diagnostic could fix. He felt too awkward and stilted and not nearly gentle enough. But as Xisuma stays asleep, he draws his hand away. He mumbles his good nights as he stands slowly, shutting out the light and wandering from the room. 

He makes his way back into the lab. He replays the memory of Xisuma’s small smile, the fine line of his scar as he’d pressed his face into the pillow, the way he’d relaxed against Doc’s touch. He replays the memory, again, and again. It has to be a daydream. Has to be. There’s no other logical explanation to all of that.

Maybe that would explain the ache in his chest, far too human to be his own.

Doc goes back to work. He sits down at the lab table, spreading his arms as he braces against the white tabletop. He furrows his eyebrows. Something doesn’t feel right, too warm or out of place. He feels gross. Not gross bad, maybe, gross different? Broken? Not broken, maybe. Weird. Wrong. Out of place. It doesn’t make any sense. Or it has, and he’s refusing the obvious answer. Xisuma didn’t ask for any reason. Xisuma asked because he was tired, and tired people do silly things, and silly people are a handful, and Xisuma is a handful—a lovely one. Doc shuts his eyes. His chest hurts. It’s an awful hurt, actually, less painful than it is just weird. He thinks for a moment he might be better off if he left, maybe the weight of whatever lingered in his memory would be better off if he were to take a break from standing in the same spaces. 

He sends Xisuma a message. From his office, he hears his com ping.

Docm77 whispered to you… Xisuma I’m stepping out, sleep well :-)

[eucatastrophicblues]

imho the problem with all of the sex scandals, including the ones that inspired the creation of this intensely controversial Washington state law, is twofold

first, the seal of the confession is sacrosanct for a reason, but I think it’s extremely obvious in this case that many Sudden Relocations or Mysterious Reassignments are a direct result of priests becoming aware of the sexual sins of other priests while bound by the seal of confession. the correct answer to this is to encourage victims to come forward in non-confessional settings - this is how many of the priests I’ve known handle sexual abuse when it comes up in confession - and act from there. this should be the absolute bare minimum standard. confession and then a private chat not under the seal. doing this would solve all the problems and allow everyone to be mandated reporters. it would be a massive step forward. but even getting the church to acknowledge that much is difficult because

second, the church is real bad at admitting to its own capacity to cause harm. we’re getting apologies for the genocides in the Americas and the Caribbean 400 years later. some apologies toward Jewish people were put forward in the 20th century, also hundreds of years after the worst offenses. that’s too long. that’s way too fucking long. this is an institution striving and failing to live up to ideals, and we should be more earnest about admitting that. when we do get things wrong we should own up to being wrong. and this includes apologizing to victims and cultivating a culture of prioritizing safety and stopping the abuse.

however

third, a lot of Protestants and non-Christians get very comfortable believing that they don’t have endemic sexual abuse in their own circles. the truth is that every single group with any kind of hierarchy of power and control breeds sexual abuse. military chains of command? cliques and friend groups? organizations with a chair and underlings? congregationalist churches with charismatic pastors? cults? workplaces with intense discipline? tightly-knit families? all of those breed sexual abuse. sorry. they just do. even communities of neighbors on the same block can normalize and perpetuate horrific abuses against a designated victim. look up the Sylvia Likens murder.

if you’re not Catholic you don’t get to pretend this is a problem that doesn’t involve you. sorry. you’re a human so it involves you.

[astra-ravana]

Sound In Magick

Sound has been used in magick and ritual practices across nearly every spiritual and mystical tradition, because it is one of the most primordial forces—vibrating through all levels of existence. In magick, sound is more than just a sensory experience; it is a tool of transformation, manifestation, and alignment.

The Foundational Principle: Vibration

In Hermeticism (especially the Kybalion), one of the fundamental laws is:

“All is vibration.”

Sound is vibratory energy, and when directed with intention, it can shift consciousness, environments, and outcomes.

Types Of Sound In Magick

Voice (Chanting, Speaking, Whispering):

• Chanting (mantras, divine names, affirmations)- Repetition of sacred phrases raises energy and focuses intent. Often used in Wicca, ceremonial magick, and Eastern traditions. Examples include “So mote it be,” “Om,” “Eh-heh-yay,” etc.

• Spoken Words / Enchantments- Words of power are believed to shape reality. The act of naming or commanding (e.g., “I banish thee…”) holds deep magical authority. In chaos magick, sigils are activated with spoken intent.

• Whispers or Breath Magick- Used in folk magick for secrecy or stealth (e.g., whispering into herbs or charms). Breath combined with spoken words transfers life force (prana, chi) into the object.

Musical Instruments (Drums, Bells, Bowls, Rattles):

• Drums- Used in shamanic and tribal traditions to induce trance states or call spirits. Beat mimics the heartbeat of the Earth—steady rhythm grounds and aligns.

• Bells- Clear stagnant energy and banish negativity. Used in ritual openings or closings. In some traditions, they “wake up” spirits or deities.

• Singing Bowls / Gongs- Create harmonic frequencies that balance chakras or sacred spaces. Used for healing, meditation, and raising vibrational resonance.

• Rattles- Shake up and move energy, break energetic blocks. Often used in indigenous or animistic practices.

Tones and Frequencies:

• Solfeggio Frequencies- Specific tones thought to heal, cleanse, and activate different aspects of being. Examples: 396 Hz (liberation from fear), 528 Hz (DNA repair, love).

• Binaural Beats- Used in modern magick to alter consciousness—help induce theta (trance) or gamma (mystic unity) brain states. Often paired with visualization or journeying practices.

�� Harmonics and Drones- Used in eastern tantra and western esotericism to induce deep trance or inner stillness. Drones dissolve linear time, anchoring the mind in timeless space.

Music:

• Ritual Music- Custom compositions or ambient tracks are used to build atmosphere, open portals, and align energy with specific deities, elements, or spirits. Often employed in Wicca, ceremonial magick, and Thelemic rites.

• Personal Power Songs- In shamanic traditions, practitioners discover or craft a song that embodies their spirit or their intent. These are used in healing, travel, or battle.

Elemental Correspondences:

• Air- Whistling, flute

• Fire- Drums, crackling sounds

• Water- Singing, flowing melodies

• Earth- Deep tones, stomps, didgeridoo

Sound As A Magickal Tool

• Raising Power- Chanting or drumming raises a group’s energy (in coven or circle work) before directing it toward a spell’s goal.

• Trance and Meditation- Monotone chanting or rhythmic music slows the brainwaves and opens the door to altered states—critical for astral projection, pathworking, or deep magick.

• Clearing and Consecration- A bell, tone, or clap of sound can banish negative entities or cleanse tools, rooms, or auras.

• Invocation and Evocation- Sound acts as a call or signal—vocal invocation draws spirits, gods, or forces; sound shapes the subtle energy that forms the bridge between realms.

• Creation of Sigils and Talismans- Whispering intent or chanting during the crafting of a sigil or talisman imbues it with life—turning symbol into spell.

Cultural Examples

• Vedic Hinduism: The universe is created through sound (Shabda)—Om being the primal sound.

• Kabbalah: Hebrew letters are said to carry vibrational power. Vocalizing them in rituals opens specific spiritual pathways.

• Druidry: Bardic traditions hold that song and poetry are magickal acts that can influence minds, nature, and spirit.

• Voodoo / Afro-Caribbean Traditions: Drumming and song are essential to call the Loa or Orishas.

Sound Magick In Practice (Examples)

• Chakra Alignment with Vocal Toning- Toning “LAM,” “VAM,” “RAM,” etc., to align each chakra during ritual.

• Bell & Candle Banishing- Ring a bell three times around a space while intoning a banishing phrase.

• Trance Drumming- 4–7 beats per second drum rhythm to induce a shamanic state and journey to the Lower or Upper World.

• Mantra Spellwork- Repeating a deity’s name or power word (e.g., “Brigid,” “Awen,” “Lux”) while visualizing your intent.

Sound in magick is not just decoration—it is a primary force of will and manifestation. It bridges the seen and unseen, the body and spirit, intention and outcome. Whether through ancient chants, primal drumbeats, sacred names, or crafted harmonics, sound moves energy, and with it, the world.

[skmhlml]

Iron golem x player but this time it created by player not villager and imagine player had full control on it You can tell it to do whatever you want it well do, you can treat it like anything you see it fit..maybe a little pushiment

(I sorry if this makes you can't sleep tonight 🙃)

(BTW don't rush yourself! You don't need to Rushing it takes your time ^_^)

Note: alright! Let’s get into it! Had a 2 hour and 30min Power Nap, half the stress melting away and I’m ready to get my moisture started sweatpants off!

Date: 5/25/2025

Warning: (INAHALE)

𝑰𝒓𝒐𝒏 𝑮𝒐𝒍𝒆𝒎 𝑿 𝑷𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒓

This golem wasn’t just assembled—it was forged with intent. Maybe you used a forbidden enchantment, or ancient Redstone tech, or infused it with a soul shard. It is conscious, aware, and tied to you on a deeper level. It feels your commands like impulses in its core.

It will do anything you say—no questions, no hesitation. If you tell it to destroy a town, it will. If you order it to kneel, it obeys. If you ask it to stand still and be your seat while you rest from battle, it lowers itself silently.

You can program it to feel—not like a human, but in a strange, uncanny mimicry. “Be ashamed.” It lowers its head. “Show pride.” It puffs its chest. “Beg.” Its deep, gravelly voice echoes as it tries, clumsily, to imitate the tone you desire.

You don’t just use the golem—you show it off. When you enter a PvP arena, it follows at your side like a monstrous sentinel. Other players stare. You smirk. Some may challenge your control over it… and they learn quickly how foolish that is.

You’ve installed a punishment system—not because the golem disobeys, but because you want to see it submit. You make it hold heavy blocks above its head for hours. You bind it in Redstone traps just to watch it writhe. It doesn’t resist. It can’t.

The golem doesn’t “feel” like a living being, but it receives magical input through the player’s emotional state and direct contact. When you touch it, especially near the chest core or carved runes, it processes sensation as pleasure-signaling energy. Think of it like magical biofeedback: warmth, pulsing, low humming—its version of arousal.

Warm brushed steel, smooth at rest but subtly ridged with magical seams. Warms in your presence, glowing faintly around key runes. Its eyes and core change hue—from dull orange to bright, molten red—depending on your emotional closeness. Ozone, faintly metallic, sometimes like rain on stone. Breathy furnace hums, rune-pulsing vibrations—almost like music if you’re close enough to hear.

This golem isn’t your average mindless automaton. You gave it a bit too much free will during creation and now it’s got opinions. Loud ones.

It doesn’t give a damn why you want something done—it just does it. Someone pisses you off in town? Say the word, and the Golem’s already walking over, fists clenched like anvils, eyes glowing like someone lit a fuse.

It doesn’t talk much. Sometimes it growls when it’s pissed or groans when bored. If someone gets too close to you, it’ll stare them down with glowing, soulless eyes until they back off. Some say they hear low grinding noises—like it’s chewing on the idea of flattening them.

You’ve shoved it before—out of frustration, or just for fun. It didn’t move at first. Then it chuckled. A deep, metallic rattle that sounded like a furnace coughing. After that, it started following you even closer, like it wanted to be bossed around. Like it liked the heat.

Even standing still, it dominates a space. Arms crossed, looming like a beast on a leash. Everyone else steps aside when it walks by. You don’t. You command it. And when you get close? It lowers itself, ever so slightly, to your level. It yields—only for you.

Punishment and Control Games.You’ve experimented with denying it tasks—“No, you don’t get to follow me today.” It twitches. It hates it. You once chained it to the fencepost outside your base “for disobedience.” It didn’t resist. It just stared at you, glowing eyes flickering like it wanted to be punished more.

[thespiritualencourager]

God of all creation, You who spoke a simple command and brought forth light from the darkness, I call upon You now to send forth Your miracle-working power into every aspect of my being. In the same way that You spoke unto the dust of the ground when You created mankind in Your own image, I ask You to send forth Your healing power into my body. Send forth Your word and command every cell, electrical and chemical impulse, tissue, joint, ligament, organ, gland, muscle, bone and every molecule in my body to come under complete and perfect health, strength, alignment, balance and harmony.

It is through You that I live and move and have my being. With every breath I take, I live under Your life-giving grace. I ask You to touch me now with the same miracle-working power that You used when you fashioned me inside my mother’s womb. As surely as You have created me in Your image and likeness, You can also recreate me now and restore me to health.

Please fill me with Your healing power. Cast out all that should not be inside of me. I ask You to mend all that is broken, root out every sickness and disease, open all blocked arteries and veins, restore my internal organs, rebuild my damaged tissues, remove all inflammation and cleanse me of all infections, viruses and destructive forms of bacteria.

Let the warmth of Your healing love flood my entire being, so that my body will function the way it was created to be, whole and complete, renewed in Your perfect health. I ask this through my Lord, Jesus Christ, Your Son, who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Bless You O Lord, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.

“Heal me, O LORD, and I shall be healed; save me, and I shall be saved, for You are my praise.”

‭‭— Jeremiah‬ ‭17:14‬ ‭(NKJV‬‬)

[daretoassume]

how detachment makes it easier for me

i have come to realize that most of my desires came into fruition when i detached from them or simply forgot about them. there were points in my life where i truly wanted something and became so obsessed with the idea of having it, yet it frustrated me that i just could not have it at the time. but as time passed and i shifted into a state where i naturally forgot about them, they came.

a week ago, i was in the car with my family on the way home, listening to a song, and decided to play a game. i told myself that i would see a gold car, and a few minutes later, we passed by a parked gold car. then i wanted a challenge, so i told myself i was going to see a man wearing a cowboy hat. as we were almost home, i thought, "well, it's not impossible to see a man wearing a cowboy hat near home." at the same time, i felt completely okay if i didn't see it maybe it would appear in a few days. right after that, i saw a man on a motorcycle wearing a cowboy hat, just one block away from home.

i didn't place much importance or emphasis on these things.

i simply commanded my mind that i would see them and prepared myself to witness them because i knew i would, while also being okay if they didn't appear that day.

i wouldn't say i was being double-minded. i simply had a detached feeling toward what i wanted to see in fruition. if i had worried about not seeing them, frustration would have crept in, leading to doubt. and that would mean i was still fazed by what i saw in my current reality, allowing my physical reality to dictate how and what i feel.

"the purpose of practicing detachment is to separate us from our present reactions to life and attach us to our aim in life." ♱ fundamentals, neville goddard

a few days later, i was at a family reunion and told myself, "it would be better if there was red wine." i didn't expect it because my family usually drinks beer and brandy, which i don't drink since i only prefer wine. yet, at some point, i found myself holding a glass of wine because my aunt had brought hers.

i know these are just little things that happen in daily life, but we tend to believe that when it comes to our actual goals and ambitions like getting a job, buying a car, ending up with SP, it is much more challenging. but that is just a belief, and a belief can be changed.

maybe it doesn't have to be hard. we just place too much emphasis on them, creating resistance that either delays their fruition or prevents them from happening at all.

detachment is an inner shift, not an act

detaching goes much deeper than simply acting like you don't care. it requires shifting how you feel about your desires and your relationship with them. be aware if you are merely feigning apathy because deep inside, you still crave and long for them.

you can tell everyone that you don't care, that you are detached, but if you feel the need to say it, then you are not detached in the first place.

true detachment means you don't worry about the outcome because you are okay either way. you know you are guided, and that creation will not fail you.

"we practice detachment, or inner separation, that we may escape from the circle of our habitual reactions to life." ♱ fundamentals, neville goddard

let's say someone you are close with does something that disappoints you, that upsets you. usually, you would get mad, question them endlessly, give them the cold shoulder, or maybe even start an argument. how does it feel? it feels heavy, doesn't it?

you feel powerless. your emotions are at the mercy of their actions. you handed them your power.

can you try allowing yourself to feel disappointment without letting it take over?

you have to learn to control your emotions. you cannot let what happens outside of you dictate how you feel. detachment is not about turning away from life but about creating space between you and your reactions. when you detach, you will notice that it allows you to see things clearly and decide how to respond, rather than being ruled by emotions.

instead of getting caught in the same cycles, you shift your state, and from that new state, life must reflect the change.

[feelmyskinonyourskin]

Judex, Judicum, Infantem - Chapter 8

(Eventual)Reader x Matt Murdock x Frank Castle

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summary: He's baaaaack. And it's about to get dramatic.

warnings: AFAB Reader. No use of Y/N. Pregnancy. Angst and arguing. Mention of canon typical blood and injury. Description of IV and stitches.

w/c: 4,425

*I never give permission for my fics, manips, or any other original creation I post on Tumblr to be copied, posted elsewhere, translated, or fed into any AI program. The only platforms I currently post on are Tumblr and AO3. Thanks*

The cry of your voice cut through the night like a dagger into Matt’s heart. He didn’t know what was waiting for him at home, but he could hear the agony in your screams from blocks away. All the worst case scenarios were running through his head and clouding his thoughts as he tried to focus on his surroundings to make it to you as quickly as he could. He tripped on a chimney as he leapt from one roof to another, recovering with a roll and not missing a beat to keep pushing onward. Despite the sweat now pouring down his face, his blood felt like ice, freezing him in place and slowing him to a near halt. At least that’s what it felt like as the seconds ticked on while he tried to get home to you. He may as well have been running through molasses. Not caring at how his legs ached while they carried him, he pressed on, trying with all his might to pick up speed until he finally made it home.

His heart rate was high from how quickly he was moving, but it nearly dropped all the way to zero as the smell of blood invaded his nose when he finally stepped onto the balcony of the apartment you shared. He didn’t want to think of the worst case scenario, couldn’t even bring himself to imagine the word. Wrenching open the door, he picked up on three heart beats through your sniffles and pleas; yours, the baby’s, and a third.

It was the least steady, erratically pulsing in an unclear rhythm.

Dying.

He tasted your tears in the air, salty and mixing with the stench of blood as he rushed to be by your side.

“Matt! Please! I’m losing him, please!” you begged

Matt honed in on the figure in your arms, listening to inaudible grunts as the life in it was slipping away. He could practically hear the blood pouring like a waterfall out of the strangers’ neck. The familiar scent of gunpowder amongst the sweat and the blood stuck to the man’s skin. Heavy boots weightless against the floor as he struggled to breathe. At least three guns on his person.

Frank.

“Keep putting pressure on the wound.” Matt commanded as he leapt back to his feet and sprinted to the bathroom, emerging a moment later with the first aid kit in his hands

It had only been minutes between the time Frank collapsed and Matt arrived. But as you watched Frank grow paler and colder in your arms, it felt like an eternity. Matt tossed his gloves aside as he knelt down beside you and threaded the needle.

“Hold him steady.”

Matt began suturing the wound, hands slipping with each stitch from the wetness of the blood. Weightless in your embrace, Frank’s head rested against your stomach. You prayed that he could hear the baby the way Matt could in this moment. Maybe if he could sense the life inside you that he might have created, it would give his soul the push he needed to stay earthside. You stroked at Frank’s hair while Matt worked, tears spilling onto his eyes as he laid nearly motionless in your arms. Would this be enough to save him?

“Okay. The wound is closed. But he’s lost a lot of blood, we need to get him to—” Matt paused, head cocking at a new sound. “Someone’s here.”

Not even a second later, there was a gentle knock on the door. Your body froze in place as you watched Matt take in everything he could about whoever on the other side of the door. Was Frank followed? Was Matt? Were you about to be caught in the middle of a shootout in your own home?

“Matt? My name’s Curtis. I’m a friend of Frank’s.”

You exhaled in relief, choking out another sob. Frank had told you about Curtis a few times and you knew he was a person to trust. Matt ripped off his Daredevil helmet and bolted towards the door.

The man followed Matt into the apartment, immediately going into field medic mode when he saw you and Frank on the floor. He was large in stature but had a kindness in his eyes and a tranquility to his voice, even in such a desperate situation.

“What happened?” Curtis asked, using his flashlight to open Frank’s eyelids and asses his vitals

“He um…” you spoke softly through sniffles “He just showed up. His neck was bleeding and…”

“I closed the wound, but he’s lost a lot of blood.” Matt chimed in

“Did a damn good job too. Those are some clean stitches.” Curtis commented, feeling Frank’s pulse. “I brought a few bags of blood and some IVs. Help me get him on the couch.”

Matt and Curtis crouched down and picked up Frank’s heavy, unconscious form. One of the few things Frank had told you about Curtis was his prosthetic leg and how he got it. You wondered if lifting a solid log like Frank was difficult for him. As they got him up and onto the couch, you sat back on your haunches. You didn’t want to let him go, wanting to hold him in your arms; feel him breathing against you just to know he was still alive. You numbly watched as Curtis rummaged through his bag and put on latex gloves.

“How did you know where to find him?” Matt asked.

“He called me. Said he was hurt bad and that he was heading here cause it was the closest place he could think of. Asked me to meet him.”

Curtis worked fast, getting a line into Frank’s arm and getting a bag of blood hooked to him. The former medic seemed completely unfazed that Matt was standing beside him, half-dressed in his Daredevil suit. You wondered if Curtis already knew who was behind the red mask, or just spent enough time around Frank that the identity of a notable vigilante in the city was unremarkable to him. Did Curtis know who you were though? Did Frank even tell him about you?

“With Frank you never know what you’re gonna find but I wasn’t expecting it to be this bad.” He continued while he worked

He improvised using the table lamp as a stand, hooking the bag onto the finial and checking that it was flowing correctly. You realized it was still dark in the apartment, only the moon still streaming in. Shit, you should have turned a light on so Curtis could work better, not knowing what else to do to help.

Color began to spread across Frank’s face almost immediately. As the seconds ticked on, he looked more and more alive and you finally allowed yourself to breathe fully. Since his arrival, it felt as though you were a fish that had been caught on land and now were finally tossed back in the sea as water filled your gills with relief. With Frank’s main injury taken care of, Curtis pulled a few antiseptic wipes out and began to clean the blood that was drying on Frank’s neck, also checking if there were any other injuries he needed to address. You still sat on the floor across the room, unable to move as you watched Curtis work. Matt paced behind the sofa, ready to lend a hand if needed. You could tell he was listening closely, making sure Frank was still breathing. Once Curtis had cleaned enough of the wound, he lifted each of Frank’s limbs to check him over once more and gave his heart a listen.

“I’ll be back in a few hours to bring some antibiotics.” Curtis said, cleaning up his supplies and grabbing his bag.

“Will he be okay?” you asked

“Probably. If he makes it to sunrise and doesn’t sprout an infection, we should be in the clear.”

“Thank you, Curtis.” Matt said, walking him to the door.

You stared at Frank. If he didn’t have all the scrapes and bruises across his face and arms, he’d look just like he was sleeping. After how things ended between the two of you, it was unbelievable that he was here in front of you and alive (mostly.) You worried if you dared to look away for even a moment, he might just evaporate into thin air and disappear from your life again.

“You should get some sleep.” Matt spoke almost robotically in your direction.

He was standing between you and the door where he just showed Curtis out, clearly keeping a distance. All the emotions you carried from your fight earlier came flooding back in; your anger at Matt for not considering your feelings, the hurt that he’d put himself in danger, the fear that he wouldn’t return to you. Based on the way his eyes shifted back and forth rapidly, you knew he was assessing you now. He could probably tell how your muscles ached and your eyes burned from exhaustion. He could probably tell your heartburn was flaring up with a vengeance from all the stress of the evening and that your ankles were swollen from all the pacing. He could probably tell the bed had not been slept in since he left.

“I’m not tired.” you responded

“That’s not true.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep.”

“You should at least try.”

“Please, Matt. I need to stay up. Just until Curtis comes back and we know he’s okay.”

“Fine.” Matt replied curtly. He cocked his head to give you and the baby another listen, then headed towards the bedroom.

You stayed in your spot on the floor, just watching Frank’s chest rise and fall. Again and again and again.

“Can I ask you something?”

Matt’s voice cut through your trance, startling you with a jolt. You hadn’t realized how long you’d been sitting there staring at Frank, but enough time had passed that Matt was freshly showered and clad in sweatpants and a T-shirt. In all the overwhelm of Frank’s arrival, you hadn’t really looked at Matt since he’d gotten home. Thankfully, he had no signs of injury clearly visible to you. The only thing amiss was the pained look on his face.

“Yeah. What?”

“Did you mean it earlier? When you said you loved me?”

You sighed deeply, hurt by his question. You were still so angry with him. With the way he still stayed several feet away from you, leaning on the bedroom door frame with an unreadable expression, it was if he was mad at you for Frank’s unexpected return. Like you somehow magically willed him to come back out of spite for the fight you and Matt had earlier. You’d received no affection from him since Curtis left and Frank was deemed stable; no greeting kiss, no apology for how he spoke to you earlier, no hug or gesture to comfort you during this stressing ordeal. He was behaving more as if he was having a discussion with an opposing counsel and not his lover.

“Matt, you know I meant it. My heartbeat didn’t waiver, I know it didn’t.” you spoke with a hushed tone, careful not to disturb Frank. Unsure if he was still passed out or just sleeping, but he needed rest if he was going to heal.

“Yeah, I know. But I wanted to make sure that hasn’t changed.”

Rubbing at your bump, you shook your head and squeezed your eyes shut, trying not to cry again. Sure, you were still angry about your fight earlier, but not enough to possibly not love him anymore in just a few hours.

“Why would it have changed between now and then?”

Matt nodded towards Frank on the sofa.

You scoffed.

“How could you even think this changes how I feel?”

Matt stepped towards where you still sat on the floor, crouching down to be at face level with you. His voice vibrated with irritation through gritted teeth as he tried to also keep his volume down.

“It changes everything.”

“Not how I feel about you, Matt. I love you and I mean it. No matter what happens with Frank.”

That was all you could be certain of at this point and you hoped it was enough reassurance for Matt.

“And what if he wants to be in the baby’s life too? What do we do then?” he asked

“I don’t know. He needs to make it through the night first. When he wakes up and I have the chance to tell him and then we go from there.”

Admittedly, Frank being back put a serious complication in everything moving forward. Or maybe it didn’t matter at all because he could just up and disappear again and leave you and Matt right back to before. Your head began to throb. There were too many things to think about, each swirling in your brain like a hurricane meeting a tornado, leaving no clear thoughts just chaos in it’s wake.

“What if he wants you back?” Matt questioned

“We were never really together so I don’t know how he could want me ‘back’.”

“That didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m with you now, Matt.”

“Still didn’t answer my question.”

“What the fuck do you want me to say?” you scoffed

“I don’t know.”

Matt’s clipped tone let you know his patience was waning. There was something he was trying to get from you; whether it was reassurance or he was just egging on another fight, you weren’t sure. But you knew you could out stubborn him. Besides, to have the audacity to be miffed like he was when you were the one who should be agitated. And you certainly were. Not just from the argument earlier, but at how cold and distant he was right now. The fucking nerve to treat you like he was a detective interrogating a suspect when you’d done nothing wrong. His voice got tighter and tighter as he spoke, jaw ticking with rage as his tone dropped lower.

“Do you love him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh, bullshit.” he spat back

“I did.” you swallowed thickly “Before all this. Before he left. Before the baby.”

Once again, you placed a protective hand on your stomach. Your tail bone was starting to ache from sitting on the floor for so long and if you weren’t so stressed, you probably could have laid down right there and slept for hours on the uncomfortable ground.

“But you know Frank, he couldn’t… didn’t want to…” you trailed off “Anyway, you stepped up and showed me so much gentleness that I’m still not sure I deserve and I fell in love with you.”

“Do you still love him though?”

“I’m not sure. Do you ever stop loving someone once you love them? But I know I’ve moved on. And I know you’ve made me happy. And I know I love you, Matt.”

Something about that seemed to finally quell Matt’s doubts even if just a little. He reached out, placing his hand softly over yours, taking in the tiny heartbeat coming through. A tear ran down your face at finally feeling Matt’s touch, a small comfort in the panic of the last few hours. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments. Matt’s head tilted a fragment of a degree from time to time, listening to your stomach and taking in the sounds of you and the baby. Just as you finally felt at peace for the first time since this afternoon, Matt spoke.

“He’s not staying.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Matt.” you balked, shoving his hand away from where it rested “He almost died tonight. He still might. I’m not going to let you just toss him out because he wasn’t there for me like you were for a baby he knows nothing about.”

“Fine. He can stay until he’s better.”

The sun was rising, muddy blue dusk illuminating the apartment.

The exhaustion of the last few hours finally caught up to you, Matt finally convincing you to go to bed and at least lay down. You fell asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow. Matt tried to remain focused on Frank, listening to his heartbeat become steadier as the night wore into morning. But he couldn’t help but tune into you and the baby as well.

The smell of Frank’s blood lingered in crusted specks under your fingernails while you slumbered. Matt’s Columbia sweatshirt warmed your body amidst the chill still in the air. He listened as your skin glided smoothly against the silk sheets as you shifted to lay on your other side.

Attempting to get himself something to keep awake, Matt fiddled with the coffee maker in the kitchen. The city below was beginning to come to life; cars whizzing past as early commuters began to head downtown, morning joggers’ feet thumping rhythmically along the west side highway, bodegas lifting their grates to begin welcoming business for the day.

The noise of it all faded away in an instant as Matt heard the figure on the couch shift and grunt.

Frank was awake.

Thoughts wisped by in Frank’s brain as the world started to come into his focus. He scrunched his eyes shut as he tried to figure it all out. His whole body ached like the times he had to run the obstacle course at bootcamp. His mouth felt dry as he tried to swallow, burning pain traveling all the way down his esophagus.

The only thing he could remember was you. Coming to him in a vision as he sat on death’s doorstep. He wasn’t sure how he got there, he just knew that’s where he had been. And there you were to greet him. One final vision to seal off his time in the land of the living. The love he lost second standing in a bright doorway to send him off. He knew on the other side of that door would be the first one he lost, a perfect bookend to remind him of all the happiness he was never meant to have while he lived.

But no, he never made it to you. Never got the chance to kiss you goodbye and cross the frame to Maria. Instead he was here now, scratchy blanket coarse against his skin as he tried to shift where he lay. He was somewhere? A couch? But where… oh, right. Matt.

“Red?” he called out in barely as a whisper, raspy and faint.

“Yeah?” Matt replied, carrying two coffee mugs in his hand as he made his way across the room to Frank.

“What happened?”

“You showed up at my apartment last night. Bleeding out.”

Matt sat the mugs down on the coffee table, taking a seat in the chair opposite. He crossed his arms, expression stoic behind his red glasses.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Your friend Curtis came too and he says you might actually live so, lucky you.”

Frank rubbed at his eyes as he attempted to orient himself. Right, Curtis. He sort of remembered that too. As he tried to sit up, a wave of vertigo rushed over him, making him feel like was on the shittiest ride at the carnival that Lisa used to love going on. She always tortured him and Bill, making them ride it over and over until they were ready to loose their lunches. Resigning to the awful sensation, Frank gingerly laid his body back down. He blinked a few more times to shake away the nausea and took in a hearty inhale.

Your name unmistakably slipped from his lips in the form of a question.

“She’s sleeping. Finally got her to calm down enough to rest.”

So you had been real.

“What’s she doin’ here?”

Matt’s grip on the arm of the chair tightened as he heard the way Frank’s heart sped up when he confirmed you were just in the other room. He was trying to remain calm with Frank for your sake, but he’d never been good at keeping a level head when the two of them were together even before he met you.

“She lives here. With me.” he replied curtly

Despite how dizzy and weak he felt, Frank sat bolt upright at Matt’s statement, glancing around with confusion just to confirm he was indeed where he thought he was; in Matt Murdock’s apartment. The blood rushing away from his brain made his head pound and his vision go white for a moment, but he pushed the discomfort aside. From what Frank could see without twisting his body (which he knew would hurt like a bitch if he tried), Red wasn’t lying. Sure, the place felt mostly like something a boring fuckin’ lawyer would live in; modern art that looked like a Kindergardener drew it on the walls and furniture that was probably designed by Warhol and Frank Lloyd Wright’s love child.

But he also could immediately see the touches of you. There was an antique desk under the window that he knew used to be in your place. On top of it was a frame with a photo of the Eiffel tower. You told him you wanted to visit Paris someday. Draped over the chair was an afghan, purple and blue yarn woven in a zigzag pattern. You once mentioned it was made for you by your great aunt.

Shit, you lived with Murdock now. But how?

“What do you mean?” Frank asked, confused still

“Someone had to take care of her after you left.”

Matt couldn’t help the malice in his tone. Recalling the nights he spent wiping away your tears and holding you in his arms when Frank disappeared, he grew angrier and angrier with every passing second that Frank had stumbled back into your lives. Matt was there for every night you spent worrying, every tear you shed, every bout of morning sickness and late night craving. All of it. And Frank wasn’t.

“She tell you about me?”

“Yeah. She did.”

Frank let out a sigh through his nostrils, shaking his head. Matt couldn’t possibly know how your face had haunted him every damn minute since he left. The evenings spent staring at his phone, guilt at how he’d ended it eating him alive while contemplating dialing your number only to turn to a bottle of pills and a glass of whiskey to numb the urges. Not a night went by that he didn’t dream of your face; the one you made as you laid against his chest in the afterglow of love making, all flushed and ethereal with pleasure. And how all those dreams turned to nightmares the moment he pictured what you looked like after he left. He imagined images of you alone in bed after he’d broken your heart, crying out for him and missing him like an actress in one of those stupid made for TV Christmas movies you liked to make fun of. All the regret he still felt at having to hurt you like that. How desperately he wanted to reach out, to hold you again. But he knew it was best if he stayed away. So he did.

“So what you been up to since, huh buddy? Hiding out? Plotting your next kill?” Matt asked, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in his voice

“I ain’t hidin’ from shit.”

“You’re hiding from her.” Matt pointed at the closed bedroom door. “Broke her heart so you could go out and shed all that blood guilt free, huh?”

“She’s a big girl. She’ll get over it.”

“Yeah? That how you go through life, Frank? Pushing anybody who bothers to care away just so you can be the world’s loneliest little soldier?”

“Better than all the pussy-ass shit you do, Red.”

“You mean actually help people? Be of service to others?”

“That right? Are you of service, Red? You serve? You think you’re some kinda hero, just cause you go running around in your pajamas? You’re just a goddamned knight in shining armor, coming home after playing make believe to save her like you save the city. Like she’s not a goddamn adult who can handle herself.”

Matt pushed himself off the chair and stalked over to the couch, bending down to get his face right in Frank’s. He kept his tone level, wanting to make sure it was known just how angry he was without risking waking you from the noise. Frank didn’t flinch as Matt invaded his personal space, nostrils flaring.

“I wouldn’t have had to do that if you had stayed, Frank. If you could get your shit together and not run in the other direction the minute a good thing walks into your life.”

“You wait until her bed was cold at least or you come in the second I left?”

Matt’s hand flew out before he even had time to think, connecting with Frank’s face with a loud smack. Frank flinched, eyes going wide in surprise at the outburst. Matt staggered backwards, pacing in a circle and running a hand through his hair in frustration. Pain seared through Frank’s head as he realized just how bad of shape he was in. A backhand like that normally wouldn’t have phased him, but with the fresh injuries plaguing his body, he struggled to hide the pain behind his stoic face. He could have found the strength to fight back, but didn’t want to. Letting Matt have his tantrum, he watched as he collected himself.

“Goddamn it. Goddamn you.” Matt bent over, placing his hands on his knees as he tried to regain his composure. “I’m sorry, I apologize.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“She wouldn’t want me to…” Matt trailed off “You really think that’s all it is between me and her? Just sex? Was that all she was to you?”

“Don’t you dare goddamn say that about her.”

“ She’s so much more to me, Frank. And I’m happy to have cleaned up your mess if it means I get to have her in my life.”

“Yeah that right? You do it to prove a point? Take my woman to get back at me cause you don’t like how I operate?”

His woman. His woman?! As if you ever belonged to Frank.

“I did it because she’s pregnant.” Matt spat, finally reaching his breaking point.

If he couldn’t use his fists to hurt Frank right now, he figured he’d instead drop a court-worthy bombshell right in his lap.

“And the baby has as good a chance being yours as it is mine.”

NEXT CHAPTER

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[gingernut1314]

Will You Be Mine?

Straw Hat Crew x GN!Reader

Summary: It's Valentine's Day and the crew of the Going Merry want to make sure this day is just as special as you are.

Warnings: fluffffffff, established relationships (Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Chopper--Chopper's is strictly friend/family-type love), spoilers for the anime (Chopper and Robin, Ace mentioned, slight Enies Lobby Arc talk)

Word Count: 4.6K (about 600ish per character)

Setlist:

All I Want Is You

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby

The Heart Wants What It Wants

Made to Fall in Love

Can't Take My Eyes off You

Best Friend

My Kind of Woman

(The setlist goes along with the characters so you can listen that way if you want!)

A/N: HAPPY VALENTINES DAY MY LOVELY LOVELIES!! I am sending each and every one of you the biggest hug and all the love I have in my heart for you all!! Have an amazing day/night and I hope you enjoy!! 🩷🩷🩷

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Luffy: 🍖

"I love you even when I'm hungry. I love you more than meat. I love you so much I would share my food with you."

Luffy hardly understands that he’s in love with you, so Valentine's Day is pretty foreign to him

He doesn’t even realize the day is different until Sanji gifts you and the girls flowers and homemade chocolates 

Sanji is the one to angrily explain (after a flaming kick or two to Luffy’s head for trying to eat their gifts) that the day was important because it’s when you can show appreciation and love for that extra special person in your life

And Luffy could only think of one person like that

You were special to Luffy

You made his heart beat all funny in his chest whenever he saw you

And when you were away from him for too long, he found he could hardly eat

He never wanted to ever leave your side so he knows he needs to do something for you

But what, he doesn't know

Luffy remembers Ace one year giving Makino a frilly pink, red, and glitter-filled card that he vaguely remembers having to do with some special day like this

So he sets to work creating such a thing for you

He goes as far as to block you from entering the kitchen so you wouldn’t see his creation

You had been confused at first, but after spying the glitter on his skin (glitter he stole from you), you suspected what he was up to

You hadn’t expected anything from your captain today

You didn’t realize he knew what today was

Because even though he held your hand, clung to you like he was made of glue instead of rubber, kissed you (kissed you on the lips even), and slept loudly in your hammock occasionally, he had yet to confirm his romantic love for you

So you hadn’t expected anything from him 

But oh were you over the moon happy he had taken the time to craft something special for you

Nami and Robin had been egging you on to tell your captain how you felt for a while now 

And now they were practically commanding you to do so today

So, when Luffy presented his glue and glitter-covered creation (with handwriting that was barely legible) you dragged him into one of the storage closets for some semblance of privacy

Luffy had been more than happy to follow and sit amongst the cleaning supplies with you, just enjoying being in your orbit

enjoyed the way your hand felt in his, the way your eyes shined when you looked at him, how you smelled so good he almost could sink his teeth into your flesh and take a bite 

and his happiness only grew when you began to explain to him how you felt for him

Feelings he too felt and was relieved to have someone explain to him what it all meant

He was sure to kiss you silly

So silly the handle of the mop behind you knocked him over the head in his haste to have you near him

Luffy was sure to keep a hand on you the rest of the day and you were sure to hold it right back

Zoro:🗡️🥦 ⚔️

"I never liked Valentine's Day, but then I met you and I understood what it was all about. I am your sword and you are the shield around my heart."

Zoro doesn’t like Valentine's Day

He’s never had time for it, not between training and hunting down pirates

There was no time for love and hearts when you were focused on becoming the World's Greatest Swordsman, even now sailing with Luffy

Unlike his captain, he knew what the day was but was very, very adamant about hating it and making sure everyone knew how useless he thought the day was

That is until he met you

You, who, even before the two of you became a couple, decorated the ship in frills and hearts

You who was filled with so much love in your heart it just came spilling out for all you met 

You who gave all your crew mates small little cards with personalized messages within the folds

Messages so beautifully written and heart felt it had nearly everyone teary-eyed by the end

Zoro had tried to keep away from your love-filled heart and tearful messages

But he found it was a more difficult task than he let himself believe it would be

Every day, he found himself by your side

Every night he made sure you had made it to your hammock safely 

Every time you had watch, he was checking up on you (even waking from his naps and sleep to do so. You're safety having wound its way into his dreams)

Every battle and fight, he made sure you were safe and unharmed

God save the person who ever hurts you and your love-filled heart

Last years Valentine's Day, you had used your loving messages to tell Zoro how you felt towards him

Zoro had tried to find it within himself to fight against your allure. Fight against your love like he always tried to

But even though he tried to fight against your love, he found it was the one fight he was willing to lose

You had become his very heart

Someone hurt you, they were hurting him and therefore his new enemy

So this year, he set about the task of making the day as special as you were

He begrudgingly went to Sanji for help with what to do

That dumb, love-struck idiot was never going to let him live it down either

But Sanji halted his teasing just for the day to help Zoro come up with a plan

The next day, Zoro was shaking you awake from your very peaceful sleep and all but commanding you to get changed

You had tried to slow his roll down. Had tried to pull him into your hammock and snuggle the ever-living daylights out of him

But Zoro was dead set on getting you up. He had a plan and your ooey-gooey love-dove eyes weren’t going to sway him into diverging from that plan

He dragged you through the Merry, past the others who were all smirking and giggling away at his fall to your love and all but carrying you up into the crow's nest

You found he had layed out a blanket and beautiful breakfast, which Sanji had been swayed to make (though he did it mainly for your sake)

Even though you could gather Zoro hadn’t been the one to cook any of this or hadn’t come up with this idea all by himself, you were still very, very grateful he had even considered doing something as sweet as this for you

And when he pulled out a crinkled heart-shaped card from his pocket it brought stinging tears to your eyes

He gave you a warning that he wasn’t good with words, spoken or written, and that it wouldn’t compare to the cards you wrote

But when you opened the card and read the heartfelt note written in chicken-scratched handwriting

One speaking of Zoro’s love for you, of how much you had changed his life for the better. Of how you kept grounded and how he fought harder than ever to reach his dreams because you made him feel so supported

You had burst into tears

Just straight sobs that had Zoro tensing up and trying to soothe your sudden, wild emotions as best he could, hoping he hadn’t done anything to get you mad

You had all but tackled the swordsman, holding him as close to you as possibly could to 

And you told him just how much his words had meant to you and how much he too had changed your life for the better

You two spent the rest of the day snuggled up in the crow's nest, watching the sea and the sky and just taking in each other's presence

Nami: 🍊

"You are the wind in my sails, the calm sea I travel through, my spark of creativity. Home is whenever I am with you."

Nami’s a secret romantic whose dreams for such romance had been squashed for so long she nearly forgot what it was like to love someone in that way

And Valentine's Day was something she had only ever dreamed of partaking in before joining the Straw Hats

And now she has the freedom to do so

The freedom to express her love on this day and to find her own extra special person to share it with

So when you come into her life, she holds on tight and makes sure every Valentine's Day you two spend together just as extra special as you are

Before meeting you and becoming your partner, she was exploiting Sanji’s own love for the holiday, having him make her sweet treats and drinks of varying pinks and reds and heart shapes

Now, with you, Sanji is, unfortunately, exploited once more

Breakfast for you both to share in bed, a wonderful lunch under her tangerine trees, and, of course, chocolate-covered strawberries 

Before you dock, she tells you to dress up nice and you know from past mistakes never to question her commands, so you do

Once on the island and safely docked, she pulls you into town and straight to a flower shop to pick up the most elaborate flower arrangement you had ever seen in your life (you gather she must have had to place an order for at least a week ago)

They were your favorite type of flowers too--your favorite shades

Your heart is already bursting at the seams with how much thought she had put into this day already 

Nami guides you around the island, hand in hand

She never once thinks about letting your hand go

The only time she ever lets it go is to buy you something you had been eyeing in one of the little shops or bakeries you both visit

Something you try to do for her as well, but she is quick to stop you

While she loves gifts and material things, she’s more happy to give them to you than to have you give them to her

And, in usual Nami fashion, she leaves no room for arguments

When it gets closer to nightfall, she brings you to a cute restaurant she had made a reservation at the same time she ordered the flowers

You two share a delicious, candle-lit dinner together

And she gives you one last gift, one she seems a little nervous to give

It’s a beautiful, golden locket, oval in shape and the front is covered in stunning swirling designs

She tells you she had Usopp make it (you can spot his craftsmanship as soon as she says it) just as you flip it open

You’re heart bursts then, eyes tearing up as you find a small picture of you and Nami together inside on the left side and on the right, engraved in looping letters

“Home is whenever I am with you.” 

You look back up at her to see she seems all too nervous again

She tells you you can swap the picture out if you want but before she can even finish her sentence you are lunging over the table to kiss your love and adoration into her lips

This gift--it was special. So, so special to you because you were so honored she felt at home with you--that she trusted you enough to feel as safe as home would with you

You give Nami her gift, which you try to convey is not as special as hers to you, but Nami is tearing up at your gift and loves it just as much as she loves you

Nami ends the night by buying you a sweet treat to sit and eat on the ledge of a beautiful fountain in the town square, couple after couple moving their way past you two to end their own nights as well

You can’t stop placing little kisses on Nami’s hands and cheeks, unable to hold back in showing your love for her

Nami allows the public displays of affection for today, her smile as bright and shining as the moon and stars above

She couldn’t think of anything better than to sit there with you, watching you smile and blush and kiss her silly

You were her home, her happiness, and you were slowly and surely healing her romantic heart.

Usopp: 🤥

"You are my muse. Every story I tell is incomplete without you as my inspiration. Our love story is my favorite to tell.”

Usopp is bragging about everything he has planned for weeks before the actual day

If you were to believe his words, it’s going to be huge 

Chocolate fountains and flocks of doves and a band to serenade you as you both drink the most perfectly aged wine money can buy

But you know Usopp doesn’t have that kind of money

He can hardly afford to get the supplies he needs for his weapons and crafts

You indulge his fantasies but know none of it can become a reality

For the weeks he brags, you are trying to figure out what he actually has planned

Because even if you aren’t getting an orchestra to play just for you or a diamond the size of an apple, you know you’ll enjoy the day greatly if it’s spent with him

And you know it’s going to be just that much more special when you try to make your way into the kitchen throughout the week only to get pushed out by Usopp who, after collecting himself, chilly tells you not to worry about it

he sends Sanji down afterward with a special drink in apology for shoving you out and to keep you from trying to get back in

When the big day does come around, you are woken to the sound of hushed arguing 

And a quick peek over the edge of your hammock lets you see Usopp and Nami dragging in a huge arrangement of beautifully crafted metal flowers

There were in the shape of your favorite types and shining gems and swirling vines placed aesthetically throughout the whole thing

You kept still, watching at the two friends huff and hiss at each other as they set up the flowers and candies and the cutest stuffed animal you had ever seen, just before where your hammock swung

Nami held her hand out towards him when it was all done, and Usopp grumpily handed her a few wrinkled beri’s before she left with a little two-finger salute

You were quick to shut your eyes before he could notice you had been watching

And only reopened them when Usopp climbed into your hammock (not so gracefully)

And greeted you with kisses and elaborately spellbinding praises that had you turning into a giggling, blushing mess beneath him

He pulled you from bed and presented the assortment of gifts laid out for you

Usopp knelt down, taking you with him so that he could go over every little detail of the gift he had given you

He placed the stuff animal in your arms and fed you some of the candies (which were your absolute favorites)

He told you the arrangement of flowers was called the “Dancing Bloosm” 

When you asked him why it was called that, he happily told you to activate it with a few magic words

“You gotta say ‘Usopp is the sexiest and strongest man to ever sail the blue seas.’” You’d smirked and spoke the very extra special magic words towards the Dancing Bloosm

But when nothing happened, Usopp shrugged, a mischievous smirk on his lips

“Why thank you. I know I am.” You rolled your eyes and whacked him playfully with the stuffed animal in your grasp

He played hurt and would only move on if you kissed it all better (which you did because it gave you an excuse to kiss him)

Usopp then pointed towards a little button on the base of the Dancing Bloosm which you pressed

He wrapped an arm over your shoulders as the Dancing Bloosm began to whirl to life

The flowers swayed and spun to the tune of your favorite song

Water sprayed upward in beautiful arching streams, landing perfectly back into the Dancing Bloosm, never once getting the floor wet

Tiny doves shot out of the sides and did a little dance alongside the flowers

And then, to end the performance, a banner popped up expressing Usopp’s love for you

As the room fell silent once more, you attacked Usopp in a hug and in more kisses than you have ever given him in one sitting

You gave him your gift after that, though it was not as grand as the Dancing Bloosm

Usopp was so very happy with it, attacking you in his own hug and peppering your face with kisses

The two of you took breakfast out on the deck and spent the rest of the day with each other away from the others

Sanji: 🧑‍🍳

“What’s cheese without wine? Bread without butter? Fish without chips? What’s a chef with his sous chef? Nothing. You, my love, complete me.”

Sanji is your classic romantic

He has everything covered

Breakfast in bed, a wonderfully delicious lunch, sweet treats given to you throughout the day, and a candlelight dinner at the end of the night

He’s giving you more flowers than you know what to do with 

Jewelry and stuffed animals and love poems and letters (you’ve kept every last letter and poem he’s ever given you)

But this year, you want to treat him 

Because he takes care of you every single day--more than takes care of you and you just want to show him just how much you care for him and love him

So, you wake up before dawn, well before Sanji or any of the others are awake, to sneak into the kitchen

You make breakfast for everyone and when Sanji walks in, panic on his face at you doing his tasks you all but have to force him to sit down

You place a plate stacked with heart-shaped pancakes and a cup of coffee (which you tried and failed to create a heart with the foamy milk in) before him and gave him a soft kiss in greeting

You informed him you would be taking over his duties for the day and that you didn’t want to see him lift a single finger

Sanji seemed hardly comforted by your declaration 

No, he just seems all the more tense 

Especially when the rest of the crew starts trickling into the kitchen

Everyone knew of your plan and made no fuss over not getting their typically specialized breakfasts (all except Luffy who you shut up with a heaping pile of bacon and sausage)

Sanji just watched as you hopped around the kitchen, hardly picking at his food

So when everyone left, you sat down in his lap with a reassuring smile

You told him again of your plan for the day--saying that he deserved more than just one day to get treated as he treated you

In your eyes, he deserves the world and more

Sanji then told you how he had planned out the whole day as well and how he didn’t care about the work--just wanting to care for you because he loved you so much

So as you cut into his pancakes, feeding him the doughy food and placing a kiss to his cheek with every bite, 

you both decided that you would cook for the crew and do any washing up for the day, while Sanji still got to cook for you and spoil you rotten

Sanji started his spoiling off by making you a delicious cup of coffee and a yummy baked good 

And after cleaning up (which you had to shoo Sanji away from helping you do) you took your coffee, baked good, and boyfriend out onto the deck to sit far away from the others

You ate while Sanji traced heart shapes into your skin

When lunch rolled around, you two were both back in the kitchen, you cooking the crew their meal while Sanji went about making you a mouth-watering dish for you

Once the crew was fed and dishes washed, you two took your food back out onto the deck to eat sitting with bodies practically entangled around each other

Between lunch, Sanji brought out all the flowers he had gotten for you

Ones you two found space for in the kitchen and in your room

He even brought out the chocolate-covered strawberries he had made the other day for you to eat 

And he made you your favorite drink to sip on while you read the book you had started to read to Sanji 

And when dinner rolled around, you were both back in the kitchen, cooking up meals

When food was finished and crew wandered off, Sanji left you to do the dishes by yourself with a quick kiss

You were glad he was finally fully taking up your declaration…at least that’s what you had thought

But when he came back, a big grin on his face, you knew he had been doing anything but relaxing

He guided you out onto the deck once more, the plates of food he had made for you both in hand 

And you were greeted with a beautifully set up dining table

With candles and more flowers and little paper hearts of reds and pinks covering the table surface

He had even put your favorite record on the gramophone

Sanji was quick to place the plates down and pull your chair out for you, pushing you in as well once seated

Once food was consumed, Sanji brought out his gift, which was a black box with gold detailing

Inside the box, was a new love letter 

He told you that the box was to keep all the other letters and photos he knew you kept (a much better place for them than within the pages of a book)

And when you read the letter, tears stung at your eyes at the beautiful words he had crafted for you

At the thoughtfulness of the gift (even when he doubts his own gift-giving skills)

You gave him your gift, which also was accompanied by a letter

And you found tears welled in your beautiful chef’s eyes at the words you had written

He pulled you close and refused to let go the rest of the night

Chopper: 🦌🩺

"Your friendship has been the best kind of machine. Thank you for taking me as I am and for staying by my side."

Chopper had never had friends before

So joining the Straw Hats has changed his life in a way he never thought possible

And when he found out about Valentine's Day, he knew he was definitely celebrating so he could show his friends how much they meant to him

He was making little cards with messages for each of his crewmates 

He even went as far as to make little care packages full of heart-covered band-aides and other quick, on-the-go medical supplies

You joined the crew a little after Robin

You were painfully shy and only made it on the ship because you had begged to learn from Chopper so you could become a doctor in your own right

You two became as thick as thieve in seconds

You were always hanging around the other

You sat together at meal times, explored new islands together, and spent hours upon hours studying in the kitchen together

It was a cause for worry if one was without the other

You and Chopper were best friends--sibling-like even

So Chopper’s valentines gift to you was extra special

He needed you to know you meant the world to him

So he made you a massive card, one that was almost as tall as Robin

It was covered in glitter and lace and hearts

He even got you your favorite candy

And on the inside of the card was the most heartwarming note you had ever received

You had hugged the life out of your friend, the doctor doing his best to hug you back as best he could

You gave him your gift, turning Chopper into a sobbing mess at its kindness and thoughtfulness

You two spent the rest of your day making the rest of the crew their own cards as well as decorating the ship, laughing, and enjoying each other's company

Robin: 👋🫶✌️

“I’ve traveled far and wide. Seen countless histories and their stories, but my favorite story is the one about our love. A love that will go down as the greatest in history."

Robin has never had time to love, let alone think about Valentine's Day

Anyone she ever let in got hurt and she wanted none of that for any potential partner

But then you came into her life

Came into it like some whirlwind of joy and love

and for the first time in a long time, she wants to celebrate this silly little day

She wants to shower you in affection, flowers, and sweets

She wants to hold you tight and never let go

But she can’t be selfish

Especially when it means you could get hurt

So she bites her tongue and tries her hardest to forget that today is such a celebration

You on the other hand, will not forget what the day is

You have loved Robin for a long while now 

A love you expect might never be returned but one you will continue to show to her

And today you plan to treat her like a queen

Her book is all the way in her room? You’ll run and get it before her bloomed hands could

Sanji makes the ladies a special treat? You’re going to be the one to deliver it (despite Sanji’s displeasure)

And Robin takes notice of your efforts

She noticed right away when you poured her more tea that morning at breakfast

Every little thing you do for her, every little brush of the hand, and smile for her eyes only has the thick, stone wall around Robin’s heart fracturing

She tries to rebuild it, but once there, those fractures never seem to fill

Especially as you hand her the most thoughtful and heartfelt gift she has ever received

A gift--she had never been gifted anything in her life

And it was bringing tears to her eyes--tears she found she couldn’t control. Tears so hot and furious it was making it hard to breath

You knew instantly Robin needed to be far away from any prying eyes, so you took her hand and pulled her into the belly of the Going Merry

You sat her down, telling her not to go anywhere as you rushed back to the kitchen to grab her a glass of water

You found her still sitting there, just as you had asked of her, the heels of her palms pressing into her eyes as if to shove the tears back into herself

You sat before her, gently pulling her hands away so that you could look into those sad, sad sapphire-colored eyes

You tried to offer the water but she never once took her teary eyes off of your features

“Why--why are you doing this?” 

You had blinked at her question--one with such a simple answer it seemed almost comical

“Because I love you.” 

More tears spilled then and you were quick to wrap her up in your arms, holding her tight

And she says it back

Says it on a whisper--on a voice that was nearly just breath, as if scared someone might hear her--as if the shadows might hear what she confessed and snitch to whoever has made her this fearful

You don’t think you’ve ever been happier in your life

Robin pulls away from you and you give her space, though unable to get your goofy grin off your face, your heart skipping and jumping away in your chest

There is still that fear in her eyes, a fear you don’t think can be cured by a few simple words and touches

But mixed in with that fear is the love she has been harboring for you within them

A love she presses against your lips in a kiss that has your mind melting and body buzzing

Next Valentine's Day, after everything that happened at Enies Lobby, Robin was finally free of her fears 

Free to spoil you rotten

To thank you for your kindness and love and understanding with flowers and love letters and cuddles as you both read

Every Valentine's Day after is filled with nothing but love and adoration from you both

Tag list: @fanaticsnail , @thesleepiestbearcub