#SCR Protection

[pphil2ton]

https://www.futureelectronics.com/p/electromechanical--circuit-protection--protection-thyristors/t435-600b-tr-stmicroelectronics-7380363

What is the thyristor protection, metal oxide varistor surge protection

T435 Series 600 Vdrm 4 A Snubberless Triac AC Switch Surface Mount - TO-252

[ghostlysense]

BEEP BOOP. I AM SO EXCITED TO CLEAN.

my SCR-UB figurine is finally finished! this is the first time i've done post-processing on a 3d print of this scale with this many parts. painting and assembly took so much time and focus but it was 100% worth it.

bonus pictures under the cut :>

he's so tiny

[addohaislam2000]

Triac thyristor, transient protection devices, Surface Mount Standard SCRs

600 V 4 A Surface Mount Sensitive Gate Logic TRIAC -TO-252, (D-Pak)

[adr2pterr]

https://www.futureelectronics.com/p/electromechanical--circuit-protection--protection-thyristors/tn2540-600g-tr-stmicroelectronics-6088459

Surface Mount Standard SCRs, thyristor protection circuit, thyristor triac

TN2540 Series 800 V 25 A Surface Mount Standard SCRs - D2PAK

[bill2snns]

What is thyristor, on-off switches, Power Control, Switching Device

T435 Series 600 Vdrm 4 A Snubberless Triac AC Switch Surface Mount - TO-252

[batsyheere]

Phantom doesn't trust the Justice League as far as he could throw them- which was a weird statement to make considering, so he might as well say he did not trust them.

First there had been the attempt to exorcise him. That had been done with some very obviously coerced members of Dark, who had eventually been stopped by a panicked Constantine who Phantom now had weekly tea with. (Because Danny needed more ways to defend himself outside of his ghostly abilities, and especially with the attention of the JL now focused on him. Constantine had not put up much of a fight, especially after that incident.)

Following that had been the JL's attempt at peacemaking and finally handling the Anti-Ecto Acts- which had simply sped up the work that Team Phantom had been working on since the majority of their group hit 17 and the threats were more human than ghost. Taking credit for the years of activism and appeal Team Phantom had already made efforts in had soured whatever they wished to gain.

Offering him a place within the teams of Young Justice or the Titans had been another layer of insult when they tried to pressure him into some sort of mentorship- Phantom very much was insulted by the implications that he needed any such help after the years of being left to fend for himself. And the implications that they thought they could control and observe him now.

The final straw was their invitation to join the Justice League itself.

"I don't know about you," Phantom drawls, tone almost apathetic as his head leans against his fist. He was hovering in the air, sat back in a pose his little sister often called his "I'm dealing with idiots and politics" posture. "But if I've repeatedly rejected and ignored an individual who asked for help, then ignored their requests to leave them be... well, I wouldn't assume they would wish to join your club and be pleased by it."

"King Phantom," Wonder Woman begins, one of the few who actually had any sense. She looks exhausted.

Another member, one of the Green Lanterns whose names Danny couldn't be bothered with after some rather volatile debates with the dead of Oa, cuts her off.

"Look, kid, you're being offered something most other heroes only dream of being offered-"

"Most other people have to be recommended or apply to join the League, or otherwise be ignored and left to handle situations such as a chunk of the Midwest sinking into the Infinite Realms through the directions of a tyrannical conqueror seeking to gain access to the mortal world."

Silence. There were a few winces, as well as a few heroes who were glancing nervously towards Superman who was frowning.

"Look, we've obviously made mistakes-" the man in blue begins. Phantom cuts him short as well.

"A mistake is dismissing a call about ghosts as a prank," he states. "A mistake is making assumptions based off the research of science and believing it to be true."

He sat up, crown flaring above his head with frost as the temperature in the room dropped.

"What you have done is blatantly allow a government to persecute and prepare acts of genocide, while ignoring the evidence and pleas of the people you swear to protect. You then proceed to ignore the word of those who have stood the line of defence and resolve the matter without any representation of the voices that fought long enough to be heard."

"What would you have us do."

It was Batman who spoke up. While not his favorite member of the League, Phantom could appreciate the fact that the man had been left out of most of the formal decision making on these matters- even Amity Park had heard of the strange mass outbreak of Arkham residents spilling into Gotham- something that had not happened in quite a while. It had kept Batman and his associate busy enough to keep away from League business, in an effort to keep the chaos contained to Gotham's borders.

But Batman had many issues and Phantom had very little care for them.

"At this time? Move on. The situation is handled, and those who have not screwed up diplomatic matters are informed and may keep contact. We want no further ties to the Justice League or it's members at this time."

[captainamericasmotercycle]

HARWIN SMUT HARWIN SMUT HARWIN SMUT ‼️‼️‼️‼️🧎🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️

Forgive me, I fear I am not the best at writing smut, but I tried my best for my husband Harwin <3

pairing: ser harwin strong x fem!targ!reader (mother is unspecified)

warnings: quick mention of criston cole, 18+, minors DNI, reader is a targ (mother is unspecified), a bit angsty in the first part?, p in v sex, oral receiving (m and f), missionary, cowgirl, accidental creampie, reader has hair long enough to braid, use of the word whore, sworn protector harwin, forbidden relationship, loss of virginity?

wc: 2.5k

a/n: i need harwin strong biblically. smut under the cut <3

Ser Harwin Strong, son of the Hand to the Kind, was set to be your sworn protector, which you absolutely hated.

As the second daughter of King Viserys, he was quite protective over you, especially after losing Aemma and then your mother in childbirth. He was much more hesitant to wed you off, much more insistent to keep you safe from a fate such as theirs.

Though, by your Targaryen blood, you detested being safe; always searching for some kind of adventure, whether it be taking to the skies, or mingling in bars in Flea Bottom.

But now that your father’s strongest knight has been pulled from the City Watch to be your babysitter, there was no possible way for you to escape the Red Keep.

For weeks now, Ser Harwin has been closely following your every move: standing outside of your chambers at night, following you to your lessons, even going all the way to the dragon pit with you.

You started to get annoyed with him, clearly displaying it.

“I do not understand why you have to stand there,” you were in the gardens with your older sister, reading about the histories, complaining out loud.

She hit your arm gently, “He is only standing at his post.”

Ser Criston Cole was standing just a bit further away from the pair of you; Cole being your sister’s sworn shield.

“But does he have to stand there? His big body is blocking the sun,” you complained.

“I can move, if you wish, Princess,” he shifted backwards, but you stood and dusted yourself off.

“No need, I want to leave.”

He followed closely behing you. You walked faster, trying to lose him within the maze of walls in the castle. He never once put up a fight chasing you around the Red Keep out of the many times you’ve challenged his watch.

You began to run straight to your chambers, only slowing when you turned the corner to find your father walking with Lord Strong. His guards swiftly grabbed you by the arm, Ser Harwin not far behind.

Shocked at the sudden contact and the presence of your father, you straightened up.

“Father.”

“Please, do not tell me you have been running from Ser Harwin, again,” he spoke, vexxed at your behavior.

As if he was summoned, Harwin came around the corner. Your father shot his attention directly at your guard, his own father giving him a stern look.

“Ser Harwin, you would not lie to your king, correct?”

“I would never, your grace.”

“Has my daughter been keeping you agile, running about the Red Keep?”

He hesitated, glancing from your father to you and your hardened gaze; a slight shake of your head, warning him not to tell on you.

Looking back at your father he gently nodded, “Yes, your grace.”

“Mmm. Let her go,” he ordered his guard. Walking to you and placing his sickly hand on your cheek, he sighed, “The more you fight your protection, the stricter it will become. I am warning you, daughter. I am only doing this because I care for you.”

He dropped his hand and you sighed, “But father, Nyra doesn’t have this many rules, and she’s your heir!”

“What Rhaenyra is doing is none of your concern.”

“But why?”

“Because I said so! I am your father and your king! I will make the rules as I please.”

Everyone watched the argument awkwardly, standing as still as possible. You pouted at your father, nearly stomping away from the scene.

As you got to your room, you shut the doors quickly, preventing Ser Harwin from entering. Wanting to scream, you threw yourself onto your bed, an action truly unbecoming of a woman and more like a child.

A sudden knock at your door kept you from throwing a tantrum.

“Princess? Are you alright?” Harwin’s voice rang out.

Of course he would try and talk.

“Fine!” You shouted back.

“May I enter?”

Sighing, you walked to the door, the silence scaring him. You opened the large wooden door, meeting him face to face.

“Come in,” you stepped aside, allowing him in.

Continuing your tantrum, you started to rant to him.

“I honestly do not understand him! Nyra and Aegon both are reckless and barely watched, and yet it is I who is constantly under surveillance!”

He watched you pace around your room.

“And you! You following me everywhere is enough to drive me mad! For once I just want to be free of you!” You angrily spat out, only turning to see him with a slight frown.

“I did not know you felt so imprisoned by my presence,” your face dropped in an instance.

“I am sorry, Ser Harwin, I did not mean to offend you—”

“No need, Princess. If you truly feel this way, I can surely ask for a change of post.”

“No, just— just leave me. I’m sorry, I need to breathe.”

He bowed his head to you and swiftly left, leaving you feeling more guily than angry.

As much as you complained about being followed and watched, you truly were starting to enjoy being by Harwin’s side, when he wasn’t annoying the life out of you.

Although you were not being pushed hard to marry and would rather never wed, you wouldn’t mind seeing what the husky knight’s intimate moments were like.

Maybe it was your emotions controlling your sinful thoughts, or maybe it was the pent up frustration fueling your delusions, but now you regretted sending him away from you.

-

Late that night, you were still thinking about your earlier words; you had sent a maid to fetch Ser Harwin.

He quickly entered, his sword almost unsheathed, ready to fight whatever threatened you. When he found you alone, he relaxed.

“You summoned?”

“I did.”

“I thought you wanted to be free of my suffocation?” You could’ve had his tongue for that.

“I did.”

“Did? Not anymore?”

“Sit, please,” you pointed to the settee, he followed your directions, taking off his helmet and sitting.

“You know, I used to sneak out, before my father swore you to me, down into Flea Bottom.”

“Yes, I remember,” he was the one to report to your adventures to your father, telling Viserys that he could protect you from your late night leaves.

“I would go drink, for hours, only returning to the Keep just moments before the sun came up.”

Harwin listened silently to your story, watching you pace with wide eyes in awe.

“I used to walk past these houses… on the Street of Silk.”

“Princess, I am not sure where you are going with this story, but I am not sure if this is appropriate…”

“I always wondered what it would be like, as a common-born, free to roam the brothels.”

“You do not mean that.”

“I do,” you turned to face him, his face in a stoned expression, his helmet on his lap.

“But you are not a common-born, you are of Targaryen blood, born for greatness… not a brothel.”

You came to sit next to him, “Don’t you wish for one moment that you, yourself, could know what it is like?”

“To be someone’s whore?”

“Yes.”

“No. No I don’t. I am perfectly content as I am,” he lies to you. If he had been born into a common family, he would wish to be your whore.

Sighing, you placed a hand on his large thigh, “I just wanted to know…that is why I detested your protection! I did not want to lose my excersions out of the Keep.”

He looked at your touch, then looking away.

“What if I could show you?”

“Show me?”

He remained silent, still looking away from you.

“Harwin,” he breathed heavily at your voice, “Look at me.”

“I should go. I have overstepped. I cannot break my oath or my head will be on a spike before dawn,” his head was still down, looking away.

“Look at me. That is a command from your princess,” you said it more sternly, he turned his head to meet your eyes, “What do you mean you could show me?”

“I—”

“Speak free and plainly.”

“I had been into many brothels on the command of Prince Daemon, to find thieves and liars, to serve them justice as a Gold Cloak. I have seen the obscenities of the Street of Silk.”

You stared at him with wide eyes, he could not tell if you were horrified or intruiged. You moved your hand to hold the side of his face.

“I want you to show me.”

He leaned in closer to you, stopping just seconds before touching your lips to his, you could feel his breath on you, “I should stop. I am a man of honor—”

“I do not care. Dishonor me,” pushing yourself into him, you captured the sweet taste of your sworn shield.

He moved his body to face you more intimately, his helmet clanging on the floor. You clawed at his armour, he quickly untied every piece. As he fervently took off his outer layers, you pulled at the strings of your dress, until you were both in your undercloths.

You could see his manhood through the thin linen pants he wore. He stripped you down after pulling his own cloths off, still kissing you passionately.

He grabbed at your waist with his large hands, pulling you onto his bare lap to straddle him.

Your breasts pushed up against his hairy chest, your sensitive parts rubbing on his own. He moved to kiss your neck as he began shifting you slowly, his cock rubbing against your throbbing bud and slit.

Throwing your head back at the sensation, it gave Harwin an opening to suck at the base of your neck, nearing your collarbones.

He elevated you, allowing his mouth to move to your tit, kissing his way around your nipple bfore taking it fully into his mouth. You moaned loudly, Harwin’s hand coming up to muffle your yells.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in, he got close to your ear, nipping at your lobe, he let out a low growl, “Do you want us to get found, Princess?”

Stuttering out, you struggled to form any kind of response, “No— I, no.”

“Then we need to be silent,” he smiled at you seductively, warning you.

You pushed yourself off his lap, sinking down to the floor in front of the settee, between Harwin’s bare knees. Your hair was still braided from the events of the day, pulled back and out of your face.

You stared at the girth of Harwin’s cock, grabbing the base of it and stroking. You watched as he shivered at your touch.

Taking his length into your mouth, you started slowly, trying to find the right pace. As an instinct, his hand flew to the back of your head, guiding you up and down his cock.

You toyed with his balls as you slid your tongue around his tip. Feeling himself about to come undone with your mouth, he swiftly pushed you off, it becoming almost painful at the loss of your touch.

“I mustn’t release before you,” he heavily stated.

Lifting you with ease, he laid you back, spreading your legs and slotting his face nearing your cunt. He kissed the inside of your thigh, moving closer to your sensitivities.

“Do not tease, Harwin,” you just barely moaned out. He kissed your bud, latching his mouth to it and sucking. He moved his way down your womanhood, his tongue reaching your entrance.

Darting his tongue into the squishy walls of your insides, you reached pleasures you could have never even dreamed of. Working wonders with his tongue, he licked up and down, in and out, pushing you to your peak.

Your legs shook, clamped around Harwin’s head. He moved to tower over you, kissing you to make you taste your own sweet release.

He lined himself up with your entrance, his large girth penetrating your maidenhood. It sent a pinch to your core at first, but you eased into it. You moaned out loudly at the feeling, an obscene moan, more sweet than anyone could hear in a brothel. Harwin nearly came as he heard you.

He thrusted hard, fucking you into the settee. You kept your eyes open to look at him as he fucked you. Leaning down, he kissed you all over your neck and breasts, forcing you close to another release. He watched your tits bounce with every thrust, pulling him close to his own release.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, and he shifted your position. He flipped the two of you, him on his back and you on top of him.

You steadied yourself with a hand on his broad chest, his hands shooting to your waist. As you straddled him, he groped at your waist, your hips rolling over his.

You leaned forward to be chest to chest with him; your hips were still moving rapidly. The motions of your hips forced your release, your walls clenching his cock; your head coming to rest in the crook of his neck.

The tighness of your walls made the waves of pleasure come crashing into him, releasing his seed into you before he was able to pull out.

“Princess…” he moaned out.

Smiling into his neck you laughed gently, “I think we are passed formalities, Harwin.”

The vibrations of your laugh tickled him into adoration, Harwin smiling as well. He wrapped his big arms around your naked waist, breathing into your neck.

You pushed yourself off, feeling cold at the absence of him inside of you. Picking up your small clothes off the ground, Harwin watched with a smile, “So eager to get rid of me?”

“I never said for you to leave,” you smiled back.

“I should go.”

“No. Stay with me, just for tonight?”

He sat himself up, spreading himself out, his elbows resting on his knees. His sweaty curls clung to his neck and forehead, making him look ethereal in the moonlight. He thought about your offer, nodding to himself.

“Just this once I will stay, but I must leave before morning light.”

Dropping your smallcloths back on the floor, you stalked over to him, mounting his strong lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, you kissed his jaw chastely.

He smiled at the touch, “So I would assume my presence isn’t suffocating you any longer?”

You rolled your eyes, dismounting and pulling him towards your bed, “Believe me, you are still unbearably suffocating… just in a different way.”

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

hii I don’t know if you are doing requests but if you are could you please do one with toto Wolff x wife reader where she’s just given birth and her in-laws make fun of her or give her mean comments and she gets all upset but doesn’t tell toto to keep the family peace but he finds out and gets a tad upset at her for hiding it but he rips his family a new one please please!!

Unconditional Support

Word Count: 999

Pairing: Toto Wolff x wife!reader

Summary: Y/n shares her vulnerability after giving birth, revealing the hurtful comments from Toto's family that make her question her worth, prompting Toto to confront them with fierce protectiveness

I don't speak Polish so if something isn't right pleas let me know so i can change it.

Also my requests are still open

______________________________________________________________

Toto stood at the window, the hospital room filled with a serene quiet. You rocked the baby gently in your arms, trying to focus on the peaceful moment, but your mind kept drifting back to the things his family had said. Every comment felt like a dagger, cutting deeper than you’d let yourself admit. You’d spent so much time second-guessing your own reactions, wondering if you were being too sensitive—just like your ex-friends and ex-boyfriend had always claimed.

But this felt different. You had just given birth. You were vulnerable, exposed, and instead of support, all you got was veiled judgment.

Toto turned around, sensing your unease. He crossed the room in a few strides, sitting beside you on the bed, his hand resting on your knee. "What’s wrong?" he asked softly, his dark eyes filled with concern. "You’re not yourself."

You tried to smile, to push it down, but the weight of it all was pressing on you too hard. "I don’t know," you whispered. "I don’t want to make it a big deal. Maybe I’m overthinking things. Maybe I’m just being sensitive."

Toto frowned, his grip on your knee tightening slightly. "Sensitive about what?"

You hesitated, the words sticking in your throat. But the memory of Eva’s voice, sharp and critical, wouldn’t leave your mind.

"Your mom…" you started slowly, "she said, *‘Ach, du siehst müde aus’* (Oh, you look tired), and I know I *am* tired, but the way she said it—it wasn’t just concern. It was like I was already failing somehow. Like I should be doing more, looking better. I’ve just had a baby, and instead of asking how I feel, she’s telling me I look bad."

Toto’s jaw clenched, but you continued, the words pouring out now.

"And then Katharina, she didn’t even say congratulations before she looked me up and down and said, *‘You’ll want to lose the baby weight quickly, right? There’s a Pilates instructor in Vienna…’* I know I’ve gained weight—of course I have, I just carried a child—but she made me feel like it’s a race to get rid of it. Like my worth is tied to how fast I look ‘normal’ again."

Your voice wavered, but you pushed on. "And Margit—she took the baby right out of my hands and said, *‘Das ist nicht richtig. Soll ich es dir zeigen?’* (That’s not right. Should I show you?) I was trying my best, and she acted like I didn’t even know how to hold my own baby. I already feel like I don’t know what I’m doing half the time, and she just made me feel… useless."

Toto stood up, his face dark with anger. He started pacing, his fists clenching and unclenching. "Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?" he demanded, his voice sharp. "Why did you let them say those things to you?"

"I didn’t want to cause problems," you said quietly, your gaze dropping to the floor. "I thought… maybe I was just seeing it wrong, like I always do. Maybe I was interpreting everything too negatively again. But the more I think about it, the more I realize… it wasn’t okay. They made me feel small. Like I wasn’t good enough."

Toto stopped pacing, his expression hardening. "You were right. They were out of line. I’m not letting this slide."

Before you could stop him, he grabbed his phone, his fingers flying over the screen as he found his mother’s number.

"Toto, wait," you pleaded, "don’t make this worse—"

But his face was set, determined. He brought the phone to his ear, speaking in rapid Polish as soon as his mother picked up. "Mamo, musimy porozmawiać." (Mom, we need to talk.)

You could hear the faint sound of his mother’s voice on the other end, but Toto’s expression didn’t soften.

"Nie, nie później. Teraz." (No, not later. Now.)

He glanced at you, his eyes blazing with a protective fury. "Dlaczego mówili takie rzeczy do Y/n?" (Why did they say those things to Y/n?) His voice was cold, demanding answers.

You watched, feeling torn between relief and anxiety as Toto continued to tear into his mother over the phone. You couldn’t understand everything, but the tone was unmistakable—he was furious, and he wasn’t going to let this slide. He paced back and forth, his voice low and dangerous as he spoke in quick bursts of Polish, likely recounting every hurtful comment you had shared with him.

After a few moments, his voice softened slightly, but his anger was still clear. "Nie obchodzi mnie, czy miały dobre intencje. Nie pozwolę, żeby tak traktowali moją żonę." (I don’t care if they meant well. I won’t let them treat my wife like that.)

He paused, listening to his mother’s response, before he sighed, rubbing his hand over his face in frustration. "To musi się skończyć. Teraz." (This has to stop. Now.)

He hung up the phone, his face still tense, and turned back to you. "I’ve told them," he said, his voice softer now but still firm. "They won’t be speaking to you like that again."

You looked down, guilt flooding through you. "I didn’t mean for this to turn into a big thing…"

Toto knelt beside the bed, taking your hand in his. "It’s not your fault. They were out of line, and you deserve better. I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner."

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. "I just didn’t want to cause problems. I was so scared I was overreacting."

Toto cupped your face gently, his thumb wiping away a tear that slipped down your cheek. "You’re not overreacting. You’re not being too sensitive. You’re my wife, the mother of our child, and no one gets to make you feel less than the incredible woman you are. Not even my family."

You let out a shaky breath, finally feeling the weight of their comments lift just a little. You had doubted yourself, but Toto was making sure you’d never have to doubt him.

[girlkisser13]

being married to choso kamo would include

• choso is incredibly serious about being your husband. he loves the title, loves the weight it carries. "my wife." "my husband." every time he says it, it’s filled with quiet pride.

• he didn’t use to think much about the future— until you. with you, he pictures years together, a quiet home, growing old side by side.

• choso values peace and routine. your home is a space where he feels safe, grounded, and truly at ease.

• your home is simple, cozy, and full of warmth. he’s not one for extravagant things, but he wants your space to feel comfortable.

• he wakes up before you most mornings, sitting by the window with a cup of tea, enjoying the stillness of the world before it wakes up.

• he likes keeping things organized. he doesn’t mind cleaning or cooking— it’s just another way for him to care for you.

• he takes care of small things for you without being asked. fixing things around the house, making sure you always have water before bed, placing a blanket over you if you fall asleep on the couch.

• he enjoys the little moments of domestic life with you. whether it’s folding laundry together, cooking side by side, or simply sitting in silence reading, he finds comfort in sharing these everyday experiences with you.

• he always makes sure you’re warm. he’ll drape a blanket over your shoulders, wrap his arms around you, and pull you closer on cold nights.

• he doesn't like loud, chaotic environments, but if you enjoy them, he'll go with you without complaint— just to make sure you're safe.

• he enjoys silence, but the most comforting kind— the type where words aren't needed, where you both just exist together, completely at ease.

• he loves having you close, even in quiet moments. he doesn’t need constant conversation— just being near you is enough for him.

• he's an excellent listener. if you need to vent about your day, he'll sit with you, nodding, offering quiet reassurances and rubbing slow circles on your back.

• physical touch is his main love language. he’s always reaching for you— holding your hand, resting a hand on your back, pulling you into his lap whenever he can.

• he gives the BEST hugs. 

• when he holds you, it’s firm, grounding, and completely consuming. he’ll bury his face in your neck, his arms wrapped around you like he never wants to let go.

• he kisses you slowly, deeply, and with purpose. every kiss lingers, filled with a love so strong it doesn’t need words.

• he’s not one for rushed pecks— he makes sure every kiss lingers, that you feel just how much he loves you.

• he loves playing with your hair. if you sit close enough, he’ll absentmindedly run his fingers through it, completely lost in the sensation.

• he's very aware of your emotions. if you're upset or stressed, he'll wordlessly pull you into his lap, letting you rest against his chest as he strokes your hair.

• he doesn't often say "i love you" outright, but he shows it in small ways— pulling you into his arms, making sure you're warm, bringing you your favorite snacks.

• when he does say it, it's quiet, deep, full of meaning. "i love you. more than anything."

• he finds comfort in your presence. when he’s tired, he’ll pull you onto his lap or rest his head against your shoulder, needing nothing more than to be near you.

• if you ever initiate affection, he gets flustered. he’ll blink in surprise, a faint blush dusting his cheeks, but he secretly loves it when you catch him off guard.

• choso has lost too much already— he refuses to lose you.

• he is incredibly protective. if anyone so much as makes you uncomfortable, his entire demeanor changes. his normally calm expression turns cold, his presence becoming a silent but terrifying warning.

• he positions himself between you and danger instinctively. whether it’s crossing the street or facing an actual threat, he will always shield you without hesitation.

• if you ever get hurt, even in the smallest way, he gets incredibly worried. he’ll inspect every scratch, tending to your wounds with a seriousness that makes you laugh. "it’s just a cut, choso." "it could get infected."

• he will never let you face danger alone. if there’s even a hint of a threat, he’s at your side instantly, ready to do whatever it takes to keep you safe.

• if you ever cry, he doesn’t ask questions— he just pulls you into his arms, letting you bury yourself against his chest. he’ll hold you as long as you need, murmuring quiet reassurances until you feel safe again.

• he never yells. even if he’s upset, he keeps his voice calm, steady, because he never wants to hurt you.

• if he’s wrong, he’ll admit it. he doesn’t let pride get in the way— his relationship with you is more important than winning an argument.

• if he hurts your feelings, he feels incredibly guilty. he’ll hold your hands in his, looking into your eyes as he quietly apologizes. "i never want to hurt you. i’m sorry."

• we LOVE an emotionally intelligent man.

• after an argument, he always stays close. even if you need space, he won’t go far— just in case you need him.

• if you’re upset with him, he gets quiet and withdrawn— not because he’s angry, but because he’s afraid he hurt you. He just needs you to reach for him, to remind him you’re not going anywhere.

• he takes care of you in every way he can. making sure you eat, making sure you’re warm, holding you close when the world feels too heavy.

• he never stops showing his love. even decades into marriage, he’ll still pull you into his arms, still hold your hand under the table, still look at you like you’re his entire world.

• to him, you are family now. you are the person he would give everything for, the one he will protect, cherish, and stand beside for the rest of his life.

• even if he doesn’t always have the words to say it, you will never doubt how deeply, how wholly, and how eternally he loves you. <33

[smilepilled]

Image Descriprions for the flags can be found in the ALT text. The creator of this post apologizes for their size, if it is a bother.

Molotov Queer 【🔥】 A term for a queer individual that is punk, uses many or a few contradictory labels, and is rebellious about it. This may be interpreted as being mean, being extremely firm in your views, being precise with words when you have to, and/or being unruled when exclusionists draw near. This term is against harrassment, but it isn't against self-defense. Label examples are lesboy/turigirl, gaybian/velsbian/gaybiles/velaurian, fagdyke/dykefag, cistrans, and many more.

This term may alternatively be used for < anyone > who is supportively punk for the acceptance and protection of queers with "weirder" or "clashing" labels, without the individual who is being punk using these labels for oneself in specific.

Made with { @floraeth } for THE SIXTH AND FIFTH DAYS (LINK) of THE MOGAI TEAM-UP EVENT (LINK) by { @rwuffles && @vampitsm } — our team is "THE SWARM" (LINK) !!!

FLAG SYMBOL CREDITS HERE (LINK) !!!

Note: i'm fashionably late for this post but its okay because the hosts are very kind people (thank cod cuz id be cooked if they were evil and fucked up HEEHEE)... pls enjoy :3 i tried something a lil diff with this flag, but i hope it still looks okay! enjoy ♡

Anyone may use my terms and flags, however, I will block as I deem fit for my wellbeing (LINK). Please only post this to WIKIs with appropriate crediting towards me (&& others involved with my creation). Do not repost to any other social platforms, ONLY WIKI PAGES. Thank you!

Taglist: @radiomogai, @lovesse, @lunentity, @rwuffles, @kiruliom, @nqvo / @cheruvic, @inknoidd, @h-halos, @puppfie, @gender-mailman, @hypnosiacon, @losergendered, @rabidbatboy, @acronym-chaos, @daybreakthing, @gengernoway, @lawslinger, @local-maneater, @scr-ppup, @sevvys, @puriette-archived, @floraeth, @sylviestial, @idwl. Please, feel free to ask to be removed from/added to the list. (You're also welcome to ignore this!)

{ BANNER IMAGE DESCRIPTION IN ALT TEXT !!! }

[rq-nursedolly]

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‎‎‎ SUBMISSIVE CARE RESPONSE

— What is it ?

SCR is a disorder in military nurses characterized by heightened docility and emotional numbness resulting from ongoing trauma and mistreatment by soldiers, coupled with a deep sense of empathy that prevents them from distancing themselves from their abusers.

— Symptom List :

Compassionate Attachment : A profound sense of empathy towards soldiers, leading to difficulty in detaching emotionally from their pain and struggles. This may result in the nurses feeling responsible for the soldiers' well-being, even at the expense of their own safety and mental health. They might rationalize or excuse abusive behavior due to an understanding of the soldiers' own traumas, further entrenching their docility . Increased Docility : A tendency to avoid confrontation or assertiveness, often leading to compliance with demands, even unreasonable ones . Emotional Numbness : Difficulty experiencing or expressing emotions, resulting in a flat affect or seeming overly calm in stressful situations . Self - Doubt & Low - Self Esteem : Feelings of worthlessness or inadequacy, stemming from repeated mistreatment, which may cause them to question their skills and decisions . Physical Symptoms : Manifestations such as fatigue, headaches, potentially resulting from chronic stress and emotional suppression . Difficulty Setting Boundaries : Struggling to establish personal or professional boundaries, leading to increased vulnerability to further mistreatment . Isolation : Withdrawal from social interactions or support systems, feeling that others may not understand their experiences .

— Treatment ?

With the correct treatment, people with this disorder are able to recover and live a fulfilling life !

Trauma - Informed Therapy : Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) can help nurses process trauma and develop healthier thought patterns and coping strategies . Support Groups : Connecting with peers who have similar experiences can provide validation and reduce feelings of isolation . Boundary-Setting Workshops : Learning to establish and maintain personal and professional boundaries can empower nurses to protect their well-being .

@ credit to @armyflags for the flag <3

[honey-minded-hivemind]

I have two questions/requests!

1) Who do you think the worst (X-Men) would be? Who has the worst yandere tendencies and hovers?

2) Thinking about the Batfamily and how they’re one of the few families in DC who can fight really REALLY well without the use of a power. How would X-Men react to a daughter who was raised in the Batfamily and somehow got tossed into their universe? She can fight REALLY well (like Cassandra Cain level) but has NO mutations whatsoever. I feel like Magneto might be a little iffy around her because of her lack of mutation. They would all worry so much lol. Fighting well without a mutation is the equivalent of bringing a knife to a gunfight in their world

I can answer the first one, just not the second, because i don't do DC!

The worst platonic yandere X-Men is hard to pick, but in terms of overprotectiveness, harsh methods, deranged vibes, ability to keep and hunt Reader, and how far they'd go... I can narrow it down to a top five, I think-

Number 5: Jean and Scott. They go together, hand in hand, and both are leaders of the teen X-Men, Jean has the Phoenix Force, telekinetic abilities, mind reading and manipulation, is popular and friendly, and one wouldn't suspect her until it really is too late to go back. Scott can shoot lasers from his eyes, he's a good leader, he's welcoming and a little stern, but can be persuaded to have fun, and is like an older, protective brother, one you can't escape from and who you feel guilty leaving. They have the X-Men to back them up, they have Xavier as a father figure, they have Logan who is like their second proud dad, amd Storm and Hank as well who adore them, not to mention the other X-Teens who back them up and will help them as friends and as teammates. So, yeah, you migh be able to escape, but just barely, and probably have to turn to the dark side to do so...

Number Four: Professor Xavier. He can read minds, control them, use Cerebro to track you whenever you use your powers, and has an entire team and family of mutants who are good fighters, tacticians, and aren't afraid to back down and won't quit until they've got you with them. If he's platonic yandere, well, good luck, so are all of the X-Men, and possibly even Magneto (because if Charles likes someone, Erik will want to as well)! He's inviting, he's soothing, he calming, and he can help you; but he will also keep secrets from you, manipulate you if he thinks you aren't going to stay, and push you to rely on him and the others and see them as family. You will grow emotionally attached, amd it will hurt if you figure out what's happening and what they've tried to hide. But if you run, your only bet is either Magneto and his group, or going where no one can reach you...

Number Three: Wolverine. This guy is nigh unkillable, he has long, metal-coated claws, has heightened hearing, smell, amd sight, can withstand extreme cold, and is super protective, obsessive, and willing to die for you and kill for you. He will make you join his team, he will not let you around people he deems bad influences or dangerous, and he will not stand for you acting or being insubordanate. He won't hurt you, and if he does, it is the last, last resort. He prefers having Xavier and the teens help him, and pushes you and his other wards to be friends, to he family. And if he's interested, well, so is Sabretooth. So if you ran, you won't get far, with either Logan or the teens catching you, or Sabretooth finding you instead. You're very, very scr*wed unless you have a power that helps you in this situation...

Number Two: Sabretooth. He's like Wolverine, but worse. Doubly protective, doubly obsessive, has sharp claws, has fangs, can withstand what Wolverine can, is also near unkillable, and has a temper, too. Don't p*ss him off. There are rules, you better follow them, and you won't be drugged or possibly wounded so you remember why you're still there, and who is the one in charge. If you're hurt or almost killed, he becomes so much gentler, and is treating you almost like glass. If he likes you, Logan is definitely getting involved, and where Logan gets involved, so will Storm and the X-Teens. You will not escape unless it's with the X-Men, and if you go with them, good chance is Victor's watching you all...

Number One: Magneto. He's lost everything, multiple times. His family, his home, his friend, more than once. He's grown to be paranoid, obsessive, cunning, dangerous, and a powerful enemy of the X-Men... He can control metal and the magnetic field. Anything can be a weapon for him. He has a loyal son, a team of Acolytes, Mystique, and the Brotherhood teens, all of whom won't fight back against him and who who what he says. The moment he says you're joining, you're not getting out of it unless by some miracle Xavier hides you with him. But if that isn't the case, you're now stuck where Magneto puts you. If he likes you, that means Pietro and Wanda are trying to see what he finds so fascinating, and that leads them to liking you, albeit begrudingly at first. Then Mystique wonders why he's adding you to their group, spies on you, and is now getting the rest of the Brotherhood to keep an eye on you as well. Someone is always watching you. You feel stressed, unable to sleep, unable to eat. But if you run, if you can't make it to the X-Men, you won't be seen again until you're deemed loyal or unable to leave them... Unless you have Xavier's help, you are not escaping...

[guillotinesandroses]

So I was wracking my brain to come up with another request that would be super fun to write. Can I ask for a one shot for Gyomei Himejima from Demon Slayer and a yokai gn!reader. Reader is a Nekomata and has been protecting a village from demon attacks for a long time. One day Gyomei happens upon the village during the attack and steps in to help. He notices reader and attacks them, under the impression that nekomatas were usually malevolent. However, the villagers stepped in and vouched for reader's kindness. Reader has been fascinated with humans so much that they stopped being in their cat form and try to replicate a human appearance to their best of their abilities (even if they still have the ears, tails, and cat feet). Gyomei decides to take reader to the next hashira meeting so they can decide what happens to them. During the trip they fall in love, Gyomei seeing the gentle and caring nature reader has for humans and their ability to fend off demons. Reader is nervous at first around Gyomei but is soon infatuated with him but treads lightly when it comes to feelings since they understand he's a religious man. I hope this is good! Thank you for your time!

Related Note: To be perfectly honest, I may have gotten a bit... carried away. After finishing this draft, I realized that the Reader described in this request is a lot softer than what I ended up writing after researching Nekomata. Granted, in the standards of their species, Reader is still soft, but I feel like the vibe is different, and I somehow missed the part of 'during the trip, they fall in love' :( I tend to latch onto specific bits of what I read and run with those, this time it being 'generally malevolent spirit'... I'm sorry if this doesn't fit what you were looking for.

Somewhat related note: Rediscovered my love for Glass Animals' most inconveniently named song, Toes. I usually search for songs without adding artists' names because I'm too lazy to type them out... the things I've seen...

Contains; Gyomei Himejima x Gender Neutral Reader, Yokai/Nekomata!Reader, use of Japanese honorifics, hurt/comfort, reader is old and an obligate carnivore, some references to buddhism, mentions of cannibalism, death, and murder because it's the Demon Slayer universe.

Forms of Comfort

"In the mountain recesses, there are those called nekomata, and people say that they eat humans." An elderly man lowers the pipe from his lips, breathing smoke into the nighttime air. "One appeared a long time ago, and it killed and ate several people in one night. That beast is said to have fallen to a figure wielding a samurai's sword, a local hero of legend, but it's for the best to remain careful." 

Ah, a demon slayer must have visited this place before. I hope they lived long, and retired with a healthy body. Gyomei nods at the elder's words, pressing his calloused hands together. 

"I understand. I swear to bring you safely to your granddaughter's house, Sasaki-san." 

"Thank you for your help, young man. Going out is awfully dangerous these days." 

"That it is. Let us pray this journey unveils with no complications." 

With that, Gyomei and Sasaki depart from the quiet inn. The demon slayer ran into him by coincidence, and the elder requested his help to get home safely. In situations such as these Gyomei is grateful for his imposing stature, as it brings comfort to those who can see past it. Sasaki's intentions are pure, Gyomei could hear it from the tone of his voice and steadiness of his heart. As there was no deceit to be found, the hashira saw no harm in helping out the older gentleman. 

Unfortunately, Sasaki's caution turned out to be warranted. A few hours into the travel, a horde of demons stalks them from the woods. Starving, of low-rank and desperate, they either did not care about or did not notice Gyomei's level of strength. He readies his spiked flail and axe, listening to their sharp breaths. However, before he can strike, something beats him to the task. 

The demons screech as they are torn apart, nichirin flashing past the branches. Swift paws crash across trees, and soon enough the screaming comes to an abrupt halt. The culprit of the massacre lands on the ground, soft and quiet. Demon blood drips from its fur and chars into ash, fading to the wind. Its heart is as enormous as its body, thrumming calmly in its chest as it breathes out. 

Heavy, slow footsteps thunder on the ground with grace one would not expect from such a large creature. Its back scrapes against branches as it creeps closer. Bigger than a wild boar, greater than a lion, its mannerisms are close to a leopard's. Hunting alone, stalking its prey before striking. Knowing they devour anything with flesh on it, Gyomei knows he must act fast as the elder gasps. 

"Those slit eyes... that must be-!" 

"Eyes like a cat, body large like a dog... this demon has taken the form of a nekomata. You were right, Sasaki-san." Gyomei adjusts the weapons in his hands. "Which one may you be? An old domesticated cat, or a beast born to the mountains?" 

"It offends me you feel the need to ask. A mountain spirit is what I am." Your tails sway behind you, flicking in curiosity. The imposing form you took for battle fades into your usual human figure, only some of your feline features remaining.

"It... it can talk!" Sasaki exclaims in terror. That is not so surprising, but before Gyomei can open his mouth, a sudden swoosh of cloth runs into the picture. 

"Please don't attack!" A young woman rushes out from the trees, arms spread out to protect you. "Nekomata-sama is this village's protector, it's been this way for centuries!" 

"Granddaughter..?!" 

It takes the whole village to assure Gyomei of your innocence. As difficult as it is to believe, there is neither deceit nor blood demon arts at play here. From the tales of old folks to the fables of children, all of them confirm that you have been here as a guardian and not a menace, for a long time now. The tale Sasaki told him was actually nothing but a rumor, a misconception. There had, in fact, been a demon tormenting the village centuries ago.

However, that demon was not a nekomata. Rather it was you, a nekomata, who took it upon yourself to slay that demon, earning the village's trust in the process. Since then, you have been their guardian, slaying monsters and even assisting in daily tasks, keeping people company. Uncertain how to proceed, Gyomei convinced you to leave your post for a while to visit his master. He will know what to do and what questions to ask. 

Not that he does not have questions of his own. Since the Nekomata is considered far more malicious in its behaviour than the mischievous and playful Bakaneko, Gyomei wonders if you are the latter, after all. Still, he does not ask. Perhaps it would be rude to make such assumptions. Either way, your non-human features basking in the sunlight gather attention within the demon slayer base. A hashira meeting is swiftly called, and the pillars are filled with suspicion, as expected. 

"As a mid-Edo period scholar stated, 'old cats will come to have two tails and become the yōkai called nekomata, and bewilder people'. They have proven time and time again to be malevolent, bringing death and gloom," a woman with a butterfly hairclip explains. 

"Really..? But those ears are so cute and fluffy..." a pink haired lady mumbles to herself, fingers gently covering her lips. 

"Nekomata are the reason cats should not be kept for long periods," a man with bandages over his mouth speaks, "with all due respect, Master, there's no reason we shouldn't kill this yokai." 

You hum calmly, not threatened in the slightest. "I am a demon, yes, but not of Kibutsuji's making. He has no sway over what I do and what I must eat." 

"Nekomata devour humans." A white-haired man cuts in, hands clenched with readiness to strike. His eyes flare with hate as he speaks, but he retains a respectful tone. "They shapeshift, take human form and deceive people. Master, I ask for permission to slay the demon and just get this over with already." 

"I understand your apprehension. My kind isn't exactly known for our benevolence. I, however, fail to see a reason for committing such acts of violence. A man I took an interest in a long time ago, my educator, taught me much. Upon sparing his life, I grew to understand the worthless nature of my old habits." 

"But you have killed humans, Nekomata-san, isn't that what you're implying?" The butterfly woman asks, empty smile unwavering. 

"I have. It is what my kind normally does. Lacking a purpose, I took their example to ease my boredom." 

"It doesn't matter one bit that its murders are in the past!" The white-haired man barks. "These monsters don't change." 

"My current purpose is to protect the village of my former educator, as well as the nearby home of a friend I once knew. I have no desire to harm humans anymore. Demon flesh feeds me quite well." 

Conflicted voices clash against each other soon as the hashira argue over your situation. Examining your nails in boredom, you wonder how long this is going to take. Your people await you, and you have little interest in the worries of irrelevant humans. 

"Quiet down, my children, please," the sickly man's voice cuts the noise, sharp as blade yet soft as silk. "A demon not connected to Kibutsuji is a rare find. Tell me, Nekomata-san, what do you know of him?" 

"I am not as old as he is, nor have I met him. There is little I know that you wouldn't." 

"Alright, the cat's useless. Let's throw it into the sun." 

"Shinaguzawa, please, sit down. What is it that you know, Nekomata-san?" 

"He is searching for something. One of his servants cried about failing to find a flower. The kind he is looking for... I believe I've only seen it once in my centuries. The blue spider lily can only be found in daylight, but I doubt he knows that." 

"Hold on, something doesn't add up. If it only blooms in daylight, how come you've seen it, huh, demon?" 

"I told you, I am not like him. He is a fraud, a man-made creature. His transformation was nothing but an atrocity, and I do not accept him nor his demons as part of my kind." 

A brief silence falls over the room. It is broken by the jeweled man. "Hm... flamboyantly put, I have to admit! However, demons are well-versed in deceit, we mustn't forget that!" 

Their sickly leader hums. "Well, it has been decided already, Nekomata-san is to live. Even so, I'd still like to hear your thoughts, my children." 

"Doesn't matter. I'll forget it anyway." The small boy speaks up for the first time in the meeting, still staring off into space. 

"Yes, please let the adorable kitty live!" The pink-haired lady squeals. You tilt your head at the odd praise but say nothing. 

"Kanroji-san, do not fall for its tricks," the bandaged man scolds before voicing his opinion. "I disapprove of this suggestion, Master, but I trust your judgement." 

"Although I heard the villagers eagerly vouch for this demon's innocence with genuineness in their voices... I find it hard to believe they could be trusted." 

"I am indifferent on this matter," the man with a bi-colored haori says. 

"Of course you are." The white-haired man scoffs lowly. "Connected to Muzan or not, demons cannot be trusted." 

"In the event that I'll be allowed to run a few... friendly tests on Nekomata-san, I'll be happy to accept them!" 

"I absolutely cannot agree with keeping this demon alive! Master, it would be in our best interests to kill it at once!" 

"There is a type of flair to its fashion choices... but a demon is a demon! Allow me to carry out the utmost flamboyant execution for this deviant!" 

In spite of the complaints, the sickly man keeps his verdict the same. You are allowed to live another day, to linger among the demon slayers. Not that their hatred would ever worry you. There are thousands of tricks up your sleeve, and they are accustomed to fighting a completely different kind of oni. Their blades and poisons are ineffective, thus you walk down the veranda with calm grace. 

The white-haired man pushes past you with a snarl, growling out a harsh sentence. "If any poltergeist nonsense starts happening around here, your head is flying clean off!" 

"You're welcome to try, birdie." A lazy smirk falls to your lips.  

"What did you just call me?!" He whips around to face you. 

"All dressed up in white, bulging dark eyes... yes, a snowy owl, that's what you are." 

Before a fight could break out, Gyomei broke it up. Since he was the one who found you, it became his duty to keep watch over you. Although you would have much rather preferred to go home, his presence was at least engaging enough. You did not quite trust the demon slayers sent to guard your hometown, but you supposed it would have to do for now. The Stone Hashira had piqued your interest after all. 

A few weeks have passed since your first meeting. You walk beside him, locked in a casual conversation. "My favorite is Takikomi-Gohan, but I substitute the meat with delicious vegetables." 

"Why in the world would you do that? The meat's the best part." Your tails flicker in confusion. 

"Although I'm no longer a monk, my beliefs haven't changed. It hurts me to wound sentient beings, including all animals. Killing is something that should be condemned, all life deserves compassion."

You hum, understanding now. "Funny... I can only eat meat. My body cannot digest much else. Rice is pretty good in small portions, though." 

"Then it is a medical necessity... how unfortunate." Small tears glitter down his face. "You do not even have a choice, poor soul." 

"It's not a tragedy... not to me at least." You roll your eyes. 

"Perhaps we feel differently about this. Well, Nekomata-san, I have a question to ask you." 

"Ask away. I don't have much to hide." 

"That nichirin sword you carry... where did you get it?" 

"It's not that exciting of a story. Before I came along, the village worshiped the memory of a retired demon slayer. His sword was raised at an altar like the ones devoted to kami." Your eyes flick to a flowerbed, tracing over the lilac flowers. 

"I wanted to taste that reverence, so I took it. When I returned, transformed, they began to worship me instead. It didn't take long for them to accept what I am after the first demon attack." Your gaze raises to him as you smirk. "Now, where did you come from, what's your story?" 

"...The origins of most demon slayers aren't particularly pleasant. I am no exception." He pauses before the flowerbed that caught your attention earlier. "I went hungry and let the children I cared for eat instead. Despite my best efforts, all but one of them died to a demon attack." 

As he crouched over to graze his fingertips over the flowers, you stood by. Coming to a conclusion, you speak. "...I see. Another tale of loss. Do you wish to meet them again?" 

Gyomei freezes in his place, quiet tears still slipping. "Pardon?" 

"I possess the power of necromancy. Say the word, and I shall raise them from the dead." 

Recovering, his response is surprisingly quick. "As much as I long to hear their voices once more, I will not violate the rules of nature. Both human life and death are sacred, they must not be disrespected." 

"...As you wish," you murmur, "though I find it difficult to understand your refusal." 

The rest of the stroll is rather quiet, but you can tell he is not upset by your offer. Grief raises unpleasant memories from their graves. For the remainder of the day, you leave him to deal with his personal ghosts. 

Time continues to pass. You alternate between staying home and visiting the Stone Hashira. Aside from him, not many others have taken the chance to speak to you, with friendly intentions at least. The butterfly woman, Shinobu Kocho, approached you with experimentation on her mind, which you refused. The only exception thus far has been Mitsuri Kanroji, the Love Hashira. 

"I appreciate your efforts to keep me company, Honey Badger. It gets rather dull when Anteater is away. The experimentation offers from Slow Loris get quite tiring as well." 

"Oh, it's no problem at all! You're the nicest demon I've ever met!" 

"That's not such a difficult title to receive." 

"No, not really... but it's fun to have, right? Anyway, by 'Slow Loris' do you mean Shinobu-san? Um, don't take this the wrong way, 'cause they're super cute, but what's up with the animal nicknames?" 

"I've been bored, that's all... but you asked me a question just now. That means I get to ask you one too." 

"Oh, it does? Well, I don't mind at all! What were you thinking about?" 

"Most demon slayers avoid me. The lower ranked ones run away, the higher ranks glare. What made you want to approach me?" 

"It's a bit embarrassing, actually..." Kanroji covers her face before squealing and giggling. "...I just really love cats, and you're so, so adorable! Himejima-san also loves them, so I guess that might have something to do with why he's been so soft with you!" 

"Truly? Is looking adorable all it takes to gain his approval?" 

"No, of course not! He's clearly seen something more in you, and I trust him. Besides, all those stories probably aren't true. I mean... you... don't steal corpses, do you?" Kanroji murmurs with sudden contemplative worry. 

"What would I do with those?" You scoff in amusement. 

"That wasn't really an answer... but oh, hey, look! There he is!" 

Gyomei stands before a group of children, trying to teach them something. One of the kids stomps over to the Stone Hashira. The child yells at him, challenging him to battle. Gyomei proceeds to beat the him headfirst into the ground after he would not quit. Cackles break out from between your lips, and you cover your mouth with your hand.

You wonder if you should sneak over there and cause some extra mischief too, but refrain from doing so. Instead you watch him from afar as Kanroji talks your ear off. His strength truly is tremendous, massive logs and boulders weigh nothing to him. A strange, unfamiliar warmth flares in your heart. It is not entirely unpleasant but since you cannot seem to figure it out, the flame keeps you distracted until his training is done, and even after it. 

A few months later, he is the one to visit you instead. Caught up in memories for once, your mind remains absent as your fingers graze your shamisen, reminiscing. Plucking one of the strings, a melody a rings out as your slit-eyes dart to his. White and pure as fresh milk, empty and lifeless with no movement. What a conundrum, you ponder, playing a slow, sad tune you know well.

Its origin has been long lost to time, only you remember the heartbroken geisha who sang it long ago. Her clothes grace your androgynous body, it is her shamisen in your grasp that you toy with. Both were gifts for the comfort you gave her, that ancient, lonely woman with no freedom or options. So alone, she would embrace the company of even a bloodthirsty beast, who only wandered to her arms out of sheer boredom. 

Once Gyomei reaches you, the final string is pulled. Song finished, you lower the instrument with care. Eyes closed, you hum in thought. "Humans are quite cruel." 

"Whatever could have inspired that thought?" He stops before you. His hands press together in prayer as always, as if belief lays in his nature. 

"Do you need to ask? I'm sure you've noticed it as well. Clinging to your faith and beliefs... there's no way not one human has been crude to you because of them." 

"They have... but it does not get to me. Why do you ask?" 

"When we first met, I lied. All nekomata come from old, mistreated housecats. I wasn't born in the mountains, I ran to them." 

"I assume you lived as most nekomata do, initially?" 

"Of course I did." 

"What made you change your ways?" 

"It took some time and a coincidence. I met a geisha, who didn't respond with fear. Curiosity got the better of me. I let her live, take comfort from me. I was quite fond of her... until a group of rejected clients butchered her when I was away." 

"How cruel... I pray her soul found peace." As expected, tears roll down his face, yet the sympathy is in no way false. "I presume you took some form of action against them, no?"

"Naturally... I tormented them. I've never taken kindly to my favorite things being taken from me. I brought her back to life, of course. We talked, she offered me her belongings... but there was only so much we could do with her as a corpse. I let her go after a while. It made me think about what I am, what I'm doing. I have power yet no dreams. So, for once, I sought guidance." 

"Is that when you met that man, the one you call your educator?"

Breathing out, you lean back against a wooden pillar. Face glowing beneath the moonlight, the stars glitter in your eyes. "Correct. Out of boredom, I protected this village and lingered near the Red Light District. Later on, I made it my duty to keep these areas clear of maneaters." 

"Ah... there have been rumors of a feline demon roaming that district for quite some time now. Is it safe to assume that has been you?" 

You confirm his assumption, moving on. "For the hatred most of my kind feel humans to be reasonable... is it truly such an unbelievable thing? Is it unjustified? People hate those who have wronged them. How different is it from your hatred of demons?"

"I suppose it is similar... many creatures hurt one another, unfortunately."

You hum in agreement. "Normally, I wouldn't waste my time with such questions... but to be perfectly honest, the way in which your peers treat me is quite bothersome. I am not their adversary." 

"I apologize for their behavior. Given how much you've helped humanity, it's certainly inappropriate. Your patience has been remarkable... I'd guess you know humans feel the same way about demons as you used to about humans."

"Yes... I only wish that understanding would be returned. I am still a living being, who can form bonds and feel emotions. There are still bits inside of me from the kit I once was, the one who sought to be loved by humans."

"The older and more abused a cat is before its transformation, the more power the nekomata has," Gyomei states, tears dribbling down his face once again, "and you are quite the powerful one, (Name)." 

Your eyes grow dark yet dull, hazed over with old, burnt out wrath. Centuries ago have those who wronged you perished. Their bloodlines could not last long, not with the malevolent spirit haunting them. So strong was your wrath, the greatest shamans, priests, and evokers failed to exorcise you. When all mediums failed, all of them were believed to be insane when speaking of visitations from their dead relatives, doomed to a lifetime of loneliness, as they deserved. 

"...and for that reason, they cut the tails from kittens." 

"If the tails cannot fork, the cats cannot become nekomata. Such needless damage..." 

"Exactly... they hurt us, then take away our only method of revenge. We are living beings, not toys to doll up. If we are treated well, there's no need to ever fear us becoming this way. Cutting the tails off so early... it's like they know they will be cruel. They prepare for the consequences instead of thinking about what they are doing wrong." 

"That would apply to demons as well. Kibutsuji's hunt for true immortality would not be necessary if he hadn't hurt so many along the way." 

"Of course... his demons begin as humans. In the end, we all choose to use our lives a certain way. From what I've seen in my many years, choosing cruelty rarely ends well." You stand, brushing off your kimono. "He will fall eventually." 

"That is guaranteed. The Demon Slayer Corps will never disappear until we eradicate all demons from this world." 

The air remains heavy that night, yet you feel as if you understand one another better now. You continue to work with the Demon Slayer Corps, finding entertainment from its members. Most importantly, you seek to better understand Gyomei. Peeking your head out from a shōji screen, you adjust the handkerchief over your head. To your surprise, it is Shinobu who greets you eagerly. 

The eerie woman invites you for a walk. You decide to indulge her, knowing a demon slayer's weapons would not be very effective if she were to attack. However, from her nervous mannerisms as she speaks with you of herbs and the like, you can tell she has other intentions, thoughts she is not so sure about. When you finally confront her about it, her answer surprises you. 

"I guess there's no use in hiding it. Is it true that spirits like yourself can raise the dead, Nekomata-san?" 

"Yes, it is. I rarely feel the need to do so, if you intend on reprimanding me for it." 

"No, that's not it. Could you..." she trails off, voice wavering as her usual confidence wears off. She breathes in through her nose, poised as ever. "Nevermind. It would be a silly request." 

"There's someone you want to see. I can arrange that." You stand up, dusting off your kimono. 

Shinobu blinks, mouth parted. With your nonchalance, one would assume you are headed to get some water from a well, not to raise the dead. Forcing herself to relax, her eyes shift downwards. "I... there's nothing more I could want, but... would that be such a smart thing to do?" 

"Only you can decide that. For some, it's like ripping an old wound open. For others, it's what allows that wound to mend. Which one would it be for you, to speak to that person again?" 

"...I don't know." 

"Do you accept the risk of pain? This revival will only be temporary." 

Her uncertain gaze hardens. "I do. That is irrelevant." 

"Very well. Think of what you want to say to her." You step forward, walking to a clear area of the forest. 

With a sharp twitch of your arms, music echoes in the forest. Dark tunes from the netherworld, drums for the breaking of bones, shamisen for shredded heartstrings. Joining in on the symphony, the bells of your accessories ring with a haunting sound. Gesturing with claws and tails, you sow together the rift between the planes. So your dance begins, ritualistic and powerful, your connection with death incomprehensible to the human eye. 

A strange fire bursts to life. It glows in reds and oranges, then blues and whites. The colors flicker, lingering in one set of shades, only to blink back to the other within a second. The flames follow your smallest movements like loyal, reverent dogs. They burn gently as you slow down, exploding into colors as you flare into the next harsh move. 

Slowly, a spirit emerges from the embers, and you slow to a stop. "Kanae Kocho, you have been summoned. I permit you to speak and move." 

Shinobu's eyes are blown wide, her usual mask crumbling. The question falls from her lips in a fragile whisper. "Kanae... is that really you?"

You step back, allowing the two to reconcile, or whatever it is that they were doing. Their conversation lasts for a while, until something nearly crashes into you. Shocked, your spell releases as you spin to the side. 

"YOU DEMON BASTARD!" Shinaguzawa yells out, trying to slash at you again. "HOW DARE YOU DISRESPECT THE DEAD LIKE THAT!" 

"Shinaguzawa-san, stop! I requested (Name)-san to use their powers!" 

The white-haired man lands after you dodged him. "So, you're getting chummy with demons now, huh, Kocho? Is this what she would've wanted, to spare as many of them as possible?!" 

"No," she cuts him off, harsh tone reflecting from her eyes. "I am more convinced than ever. My sister's death will be avenged." 

"I hope that was helpful." You dust your shoulders off, annoyed by the interruption. 

"It was, (Name)-san. Thank you for giving me this chance." 

You are quick to leave after hearing that, letting the pair settle whatever discussion they intended on having. Although necromancy is your forte, the energy drain will always be irritating, no matter how small. So, you seek out the man you have deemed your favorite a long while ago. 

Gyomei lowers the shakuhachi to his lap, a type of flute he mentioned he loves to play. Upon your arrival, he speaks as you sit beside him, having recounted the days events to him as you usually do. "Your dance must have been beautiful... and those offers of using your power over death... they are attempts at comfort, no?" 

"Yes, they are. My understanding of humanity is limited, but wanting closure is something that makes sense to me. Words from those not involved are useless. It's better to give the mourning an opportunity for those to be shared with the deceased." 

"Although I disagree, it brings me joy to hear you care so much." 

"I have felt fear and pain. I have no reason to wish it upon others." 

"Even if that is a simple notion, it is valuable. I have noticed your compassion when we've spoken, and I suspect there is more you haven't shown." 

"Nothing gets past you, it seems. I may as well be honest, then. Against my best wishes, I have fallen in love with you." 

"It appears my guess was correct." A soft smile graces his lips. "I am a deeply distrustful person... but I've grown to believe in you. In the eyes of my heart, I have seen your honesty. As for what's in mine... there are feelings similar to yours." 

A genuine, uncontainable grin spreads across your face. "Is that true? Will you be my betrothed, then?" 

"Ah... what a dreamy sentiment." His lips part in surprise, a small blush rising to his cheeks. "I cannot accept your proposal, not yet at least. In the Demon Slayer Corps there is no guarantee you will live to tomorrow." 

"I'll keep you alive." 

"As much as I love fighting by your side... the dangers of this occupation are not the only reason for this rejection. My religion's thoughts on romance are... complicated, as are my own. I'd like to think this through before we proceed. For now, I am glad to know these feelings are mutual." 

"That is fine with me, I have nothing but time. I worry more for you." 

"I am proud to live and die as a human being. Even if that means I get to experience only a blink this world's beauty." His words linger in the fresh air like last night's rain, in pearly droplets over the grass. Heartache, that is the cold feeling rushing over your chest. Even so, you cannot force him to accept immortality; humans like him are meant to be perfect, fleeting visages. 

"Then I'll let you be my favorite memory, my favorite era." Your fingers pluck the softest, quietest melody on the shamisen. The world slows down as your eyes flutter closed, sky bleeding into the pale shades of a cherry blossom flower. 

"And you will be my only vice, the one thing to make me regret my mortality." Tears pool in his eyes, falling in large streaks. You would tell him it is not the time to mourn yet, but he already knows. These are tears of joy, knowing he has found someone to love. No matter how unconventional, no matter how different you are or how slow you take it, this relationship will shape out into something beautiful, something you vow to carry on even after he passes. 

[dulaglutide]

Can i request for a headcannon for the hantengu clones with a soft-hearted and kind reader. Like it would be so cute especially with sekido :D.

Oh! And i love your writing

I’m in the mood for the soft hours ———————————————————————

Warnings⚠️: adorableness, swearing, nickname princess is used (Karaku), let me know if I missed any!

———————————————————————

Hantengu clones x soft! gn reader

Aizetsu

Omg

He adores you more than anything

He doesn’t think he deserves you because of how soft and kind you are with him

He will sometimes lay on you randomly and hold you just to hear your little giggles

When you offer to help him with stuff so it’s not so hard for him he tears up

Poor baby isn’t used to this

Sometimes he wonders if your faking it

But he stops thinking about that when he just looks at your innocent eyes

Your touch is so gentle he just melts whenever you hold him in any way possible

When he kisses you he doesn’t understand how your kisses are as gentle as your personality

Your just so adorable and soft he doesn’t get it

You are a goddess to him

He will give you attention if you ever get needy for it how can he not when your looking at him with those eyes

You will get random nose kisses from him when it’s just you two

He blushes very brightly when you smile at him

I will say this a million times

HE LOVES TO HOLD YOU IN HIS ARMS AND PROTECT YOU OMFG

Sekido

He’s so confused at first

How are you so soft with him when he’s angry 24/7

If you every hug him and it’s just you two he will hug you back and he will try to be soft about it but he fails and squishes you not that you mind though

You manage to calm him down just by you being around him

Your presence is just so soft and comforting that he can’t help but blush when you start saying sweet things to him

If you ask he will carry you but he will complain he loves caring you because of how adorable you are so don’t worry

He will randomly wonder why or how your so adorable and innocent

And how the fuck you love him of all demons

He will sometimes just watch you as you do something just admiring you

Your soft and caring voice just makes him blush

He blushes a lot because of you but denies it every time

He will combust if you ever just go up to him when he’s sitting/laying down and lay your head or whole body on him

If he ever accidentally yells at you in anger he will take every fiber in his body and force the words “I’m sorry” out of his mouth

If you ever beg him for something he will just sigh and do whatever it is you wanted

Karaku

Oh god oh no

He will constantly tease the ever loving shit out of you

He loves to make you blush or if you ever make a squeak noise he will try to make you make that noise again

He will call you princess constantly

He just loves you so much

When you are being your soft and adorable self he will just come up behind you and hug you tightly

He will constantly kiss you anywhere he can see

He will randomly pull you onto his lap for you to sit sown

Forehead kisses are the kisses he will give you the most

If he’s leaving for a mission he will probably kiss you on the forehead and say, “don’t miss me too much, princess.”~

You are a blushing mess 90% of the time

He just can’t get over how cute you are

Your touch is so gentle he can’t get over it

I know I’ve said this a lot but he loves holding you

He will carry you around everywhere

The amount of love he will give you is insane

Urogi

You just made the baby 100x more clingy

He can’t get enough of you

He loves how innocent and cute you are

You have the most adorable voice as well

Your so kind to him he just doesn’t get it

But don’t worry he’s so playful he loves somebody who’s soft and will take care of him

If you ever ask to feel his wings he will let you but be careful their very sensitive

He loves how your touch lingers on him

Your personality is just so amazing to him he loves it

Your cute little face is the best thing ever

If he ever sees you outside when he comes home from a mission he will just scream your name and pull you into the air while your giggling

KISSES EVERYWHERE

He will kiss your face 24/7 to make you happy and to show you how much he loves you

If you ever tell him it tickles he will just laugh and do it more

He loves to cuddle and hold you

He gives you a very warm blanket every time his wings!

He will just always make sure your happy and that you feel safe no matter where you are

[saltsongwc]

So Tigerfoot, I hope you have a good day. I wanted to ask if you know the Shadowclan leader, Brokenstar? Since the last meeting, there's been an apprentice called Baderpaw, but he looks younger than any of the other apprentices that Firepaw mistook him as a kit

(I gotta be honest for a while I didn't know what to answer, yes he does because he's a leader? personally? no??? so I took the question to show what happened the night right after the gathering)

Take Action

“-Kits!” Lionheart hisses, the tabby’s green eyes were worried, his fur bristling while curling his tail around himself protectively “They are barely four moons old… They shouldn’t even be- shouldn’t even be” Tigeroot could not blame his choked up throat, his own kits were barely 3. Tigerfoot couldn’t imagine the warrior even letting them out of camp with a full patrol, let alone with just another warrior to guide them.

The three high ranks, Bluestar, Lionheart, and Tigerfoot where gathered around in her den, while the gray old she-cat was lying on her nest, the golden deputy sat with his back to the entrance, only the large tabby was carefully glancing ever so often to whatever intruder might decide to peek.

“Whatever Brokenstar has planned, it cannot be good for anyone” her voice thoughtful, blue eyes squinting to the few rays of moonlight that wiggled their way into the cracks of Highrock “...We have so few warriors, they are planning to annex more land into their territory”

“And you did not agree to his demands” Tigerfoot replied, the sharpen gazes of both Lionheart and Bluestar suddenly falling on him “I’m on your side Bluestar, I’ll support you, but that was foolish. To risk our clan while we are weakened from leaf-bare and with new paws to train? Now knowing Brokenstar is forcing kits to train?”

“What would you have us do Tigerfoot? Accept his terms and let them grow stronger while us weaker, eventually face the same destiny as Windclan? To risk not only the blood of his clan but our own as well?” Lionheart spoke, standing up and walking to the medicine cat, Tigerfoot arched his back, fur rising as he hissed

“We are risking one sooner by not agreeing!” The deputy’s mouth opened, and both cats hissed before the booming voice of Bluestar echoed her den.

“Stop it” Both tabbies turned, the blue cat now sitting as she eyes them both harshly “Stop squabbling like kits, what’s done is done,” she eyes Tigerfoot specially “my decision has already been made Tigerfoot, you cannot change the past, and while your input is appreciated it is out of line” 

A heavy silence fell onto the den, the three cats eyeing each other, waiting, before the tabby cleared his throat and sat down again, dipping his head respectfully.

“I apologize, I’m speaking as a healer on this, I do not wish to see bloodshed” Lionheart’s ears twitched almost aback, and the golden warrior nodded, retuning to his spot before.

“I apologize as well, I should not doubt or lash out at the wisdom of our medicine cat… I would like to avoid battles as well”

“You’re both my most trusted advisors, I would not have summoned you here to not hear you out” Bluestar sighed, thoughtful “With Riverclan granting their hunting grounds, an attack is certain” she turned her head towards Lionheart “I want extra patrols by Riverclan and Shadowclan, and scouts stationed on rotation by the Thunderpath” 

Lionheart’s voice was curious “I doubt Riverclan would support Shadowclan on a fool’s errands, not with Stormstar still appearing to mourn Oakheart”

“Don’t doubt Brokenstar’s use of his new grounds” Bluestar replied, Tigerfoot noted her gaze saddened for a moment at the mention of the former Riverclan deputy, but her voice remained firm and clear “Be prepared for everything”

Tigerfoot was ready to call this meeting adjourned, but the leader’s voice turned to him again “Tigerfoot, would Starclan approve an attack on Shadowclan?”

Fur standing, the tabby turned to the leader with hidden panic in his expression, calmly, slowly, he scrapped the stone with one of his claws “I am… unsure Bluestar, they have not talked to me since the prophecy”

“Guidance is all I ask” she closed her eyes, sighing and nodding “Lionheart, be prepared to take over duties from me in two days time, Tigerfoot, prepare travelling herbs, we will speak to them about Windclan”

“No” Tigerfoot shook his head “I must stay here, half-moon gathering will be soon anyway, to travel extra is dangerous” 

“It would be a good time to take the apprentices” Lionheart added, and Tigerfoot was glad for the excuse “While we're not yet at war”

“...Not all of them sadly, we cannot leave the clan too unprotected” Bluestar’s tail flickered “Lionheart, prepare Ravenpaw, Sandpaw and Graypaw, Dustpaw and Firepaw will guard camp with everyone while Spottedstem and I guide them, meeting adjourned”

Both toms dipped their heads in respect, and walked out of the den, first Lionheart, who walked towards the nursery where Frostfur greeted him by the entrance with a lick to his cheek, Tigerfoot was ready to return to his den when a shadow flickered on his side.

Squinting, the massive cat walked around the stones, over them slightly until the shadow made itself known, a sandy, spiky fur that was hugging the shadows brought by the night.

“Sandpaw,” He called, the young apprentice jumping by his tone, her pelt rising while she quickly turned to look at him “Spying on your leader, deputy and medicine cat, now what would Whitestorm say?” 

“...That is was a good attempt?” The tabby did not laugh, glaring at the young molly as she sighed and walked over “Look, I know it looks bad”

“Bad does not begin to describe it”

“I had a reason!” She hissed, a whisper “I wanted to see if you would talk about Riverclan…”

“What’s there to talk about Riverclan?” He questioned, unsure why he was even entertaining her own curiosity instead of telling Bluestar.

The green eyes of the apprentice shifted awkwardly towards the den, her voice lowering even more “I spoke to some Riverclan apprentices last gathering, about, about Redtail’s death”

Ah, now it made sense, Tigerfoot felt a pang of pity for the young cat, a sense of memory back to his own days when Leopardfoot passed, but he didn’t have anyone directly to take his anger for her death, only himself to blame for not being there. Sandpaw did, even if the directly responsible warrior was dead…

“But they said Redtail killed Oakheart” Tigerfoot paused his train of thought, now tilting his head to the side, when she wasn’t interrupted, the sandy she-cat continued “...and I wanted to know if Bluestar spoke to Stormstar about it during this gathering or not”

“I can assure you, no mention of either deputy was made” her gaze lowered, and it hurt to see, to think of someone so irreplaceable and learn that to the forest Redtail’s name now seemed a whisper “But, Sandpaw are you sure you can trust them?”

“They would lie and try to make Oakheart seem honorable” she spat “Sull Redtail’s name like that but… My dad would not do that!” Indignation rang in her words “He would fight to come back to us but never at the cost of killing another cat! He would’ve found another way… Maybe an accident, maybe, but I just have this feeling in my chest that he didn’t kill Oakheart, but also that he wouldn’t just die to him either”

“...So Spottedstem lied” Her green eyes turned in alarm to the medicine cat.

“No! No I don’t… I’m not- Maybe she mixed up Oakheart with someone else? Maybe it was another cat that killed Redtail, but she was her brother she wouldn’t-”

A heavy implication befell the two, and the apprentice rested her tail over her paws before glancing away from him “Are you going to tell Whitestorm?”

“As a medicine cat, I would have you tend to not just the elders, but Yellowfang and the queens until you get your warrior name” he thought, turning back towards the clearing, empty and in silence, the peaceful night of the gathering now felt like seasons ago despite being just earlier “but it could just be my imagination, tired from the gathering… You heard the meeting, worse things are coming, and this, sounds like they can only get worse”

Hopeful, her head returned to him, high and smiling “So I’m not in trouble?”

“Oh, no, your visit to the moonstone will have to wait, I must inform Bluestar to take someone else” Omitting the fact that the reason was for spying.

“Take Firepaw” she quickly offered, and even Tigerfoot seemed surprised, eyes widening as he looked at her, she huffed “I need to go to Sunningrock’s while Spottedstem is away, so I can search for clues, and Dustpaw is good at inventing an excuse to cover for me”

“Is Dustpaw aware of your suspicions?” She shook her head.

“He’s Darkstripe’s apprentice now, I know he wants justice as much as I do, but he’s spending more and more time with the two…”

Tigerfoot sighed “War with Shadowclan is coming Sandpaw, to cause internal conflict as well…”

The reply was spoken harshly, her paw stomping the ground “I have to take action Tigerfoot”

For a moment, the medicine cat thought he saw the faint outline of Redtail behind her, starry pelt overlooking his daughter’s decision, but quickly the vision faded, a memory of bygone times more than the apparition.

‘They are not here, not with us right now’.

“Go now, get some rest…”

Shadowclan, now Thunderclan as well, it felt like the forest was collapsing around him, and he wasn’t sure if it was action or inaction that was causing it.

[nichelink]

Dog+Trainer: a 16+ nichelink relationship/relationship dynamic where one person in the relationship takes the role of the "dog" and the other/s take the role of their "trainer."

this can be considered a subset of Pet+Owner and Dog+Owner, and may also be considered a subset of Stray+Tamer. this relationship may include, but isn't limited to:

the dog being loving, affectionate, and protective towards the trainer, but also having some obligation to obey them

the trainer serving as a caretaker for the dog when they pet regress/have pet thoughts/have kin shifts

the dog getting atypical euphoria from the idea of being a dog trained by someone else

the trainer giving the dog "training" to do tricks, whatever that may mean for the people involved, possibly "training" to help the dog treat themself better

the trainer being dissopet, former guard dog caretaker, or similar labels, or the dog being dissoconnopet, kin/introject/alterhuman/etc of a dog, guard dog whumpee archetrope, or similar labels

the dog being a nonhuman headmate who wishes to have an "trainer" inside or outside of the system

the dog being a recovering r*dqueer/f*lt member and the trainer helping them express their want to be "owned" and "trained" in a risk-aware and safer way

attraction types/labels like petaffectis, dogbutch4femme, eldritchaffectis, kitony etc

nichelink coining

see also: Cat+Dog Rivalry, Cat+Owner, Dog+Owner self, Coach+Athlete

tagging: @radiomogai | @gengernoway | @scr-ppup | @canidae-archive | @faunagender | @beyond-mogai-pride-flags // ask to be untagged or to be tagged in similar terms