the inspiration for this one started with a medieval headdress in a movie. i thought the shape was interesting, and might work well for a robot. as i was sculpting, i ended up also using the shapes of a corset & puffy sleeves for the body.
she is printed in a translucent filament for an ethereal vibe, and the only paints i used were white and chrome. the filigree patterns are stickers i cut up, combined, and glued onto the body.
kiku glances behind her as she makes her way home, a bundle of kindling under one arm, a basket of the day's gatherings on her back. her charge follows at a distance, eyes down, carrying a weighty sack made of coarse cloth thrown across his shoulder. it's odd how he obediently follows at her heel like a duckling, but she tells herself she doesn't mind. she has grown accustomed to his presence in these days, she supposes, as has much of the village, but grown accustomed in the way that one might to a needle left in the skin.
she watches his recovery with distant care, and now that he is well enough (though not yet well enough that she's told him to leave), she watches him make himself useful. accompanying her on her forays, keeping her humble clinic clean, doing things about the village when he thinks he will not be seen. but kiku watches, and she sees. and she sees him mend a post in a fence no one has gotten to, or leave a stack of firewood near someone's shed. and others see it too, it seems, kiku sometimes finding a few strips of cured meat or a spare fish, a fresh vegetable perhaps at her doorstep in exchange. the villagers do not interact with him much more than this, nor do they look at him with warmth, but they leave him be.
they settle down for a meal now in her home, yuzu wordlessly getting out the bowls and chopsticks as kiku stores her things. it is simple fare as it always is. tonight a scoop of freshly cooked rice with vegetables pickled the season before. a ripe fruit each found at the door when they returned. they eat in silence. even now, they rarely speak.
later in the evening she checks his wound for redness or swelling, gingerly touches the thing and asks if there is any pain. he shakes his head, mentioning a tenderness perhaps, but no more. "it has healed well," she says with a nod, "and soon—soon you should go."
he turns to her, frozen, and she watches the resignation settle in. "i understand," he answers.
kiku looks at him for a long while, as she often has, and she thinks of what she's seen. the mended fence, the firewood, the neighbor's dog running about his legs with its wagging tail. the moments of stillness gazing out beyond the horizon. the flash of steel and blood and violence as he appeared from nowhere, slaughtering the garlean soldiers who had found their way to her home.
she touches her fingers to the marks on the skin of his throat, the telltale signs of a magitek collar well used, and for a moment her expression is tinged with regret. "i am sorry," she whispers, "but you, yuzu yomei, cannot stay. not here."
yuzu smiles then, faintly. "i understand," he says, and no more.
the reason sex scenes exist in fiction is because sometimes people have sex but also to find out what the characters are lying to everyone including themselves about by wrapping that agonising vulnerability in a treat like giving medicine to a dog
discoholicmusic
izzy806
tangentwithtanner
turnnoffyourmind
vaporwave
areudirty
ellievsbear
dailybridgerton
theartofmadeline
