#//it was rare to be protected when I was suffering and the urge to protect them like I wasnt hit me like a train.

[revvywevvy]

You like incredibly misunderstood characters. Do you relate to that by any chance? /light hearted

y. yeah. SDGHSDGHSDGHDSHS

[rockingbytheseaside]

✦ The Strong and The Feeble

(Il Capitano with sick reader / tw: general description of illness, coughing, or physical pain. sfw)

Imagine Il Capitano with a sick darling, one whose health is often at risk. Your condition has been chronic for as long as you remember since your well-being is susceptible to common ailments and pain. And yet, it never hindered Il Capitano’s admiration towards you. Instead, it only amplified his urge to shield and protect you.

Imagine the mighty Harbinger returning from a prolonged expedition, his strides cutting through the secluded snowy terrain to reach a quaint manor on the outskirts of Snezhnaya. The mere sensation of the crisp taiga air beckons him to yearn for the upcoming warmth of your arms. Capitano barely has a moment to enter the manor and hand in his coat to the servants when a familiar voice calls out – “Is that him? Is he home already? Capi…!”

Imagine Il Capitano opening his arms and rushing to scoop you, both in worry and longing to feel your body against him. It appears that today is one of your brighter days, as you allow your weary body to move forward and welcome him directly instead of remaining in bed, even when a retinue of worried maids are trailing behind you. But expending your energy is no longer a worry, as Capitano effortlessly lifts you in a tender embrace with his armored hands.

“My beloved, I missed you dearly… But you shouldn’t overexert yourself just to welcome me. Save your energy for me, sweetheart.”

But you never allow your mood to change along with your ailments. Bedridden or not, you always greet your Knight despite your conditions. He doesn’t deserve to feel any more worry from your demeanor than he already does when he is away at work. Unbeknownst to you, Capitano sees right through you and the lengths you go to conceal your coughs, troubled breaths, or fatigue.

Any day that Capitano makes it back home is a celebration. He misses you terribly, and his Fatui expeditions became a driving force to work hard for you. He’ll return home with rare herbs, expensive medicine, or anything that your condition might require. Even when he is on a mission abroad, his mind keeps conjuring ideas on what unique gifts and books he must search for.

Imagine how Capitano’s prolonged mission heightened his worry for you. Thus, once he's settled at home, no longer donning his armor, Capitano will personally step in to take care of you. His hand is always protectively sweeping over your forehead and hair, ensuring your temperature is in check. He'll often dismiss the servants so he can bring you hot beverages to ease your sore throat. Only after confirming you've taken your medication and are resting on fresh sheets will the typically composed Harbinger release a sigh and join you in bed.

“Dear, you just got home. You mustn't trouble yourself so. You know I can take care of myself if needed to… I'm not that helpless, Capi.”

Il Capitano would apologize, tighten his arm around your shoulder, and softly nuzzle his face to a tender kiss on your cheek. However, internally, he is sighing wistfully, because he knows that on sunny days there are looming shadows as well. Sometimes, your illness takes a toll on you, your voice becoming hoarse and your coughing more frequent. Moving or even lifting your head would cause a headache, but the Harbinger never backs away in such circumstances.

You can barely speak on those days. But even as you lay in bed Capitano can tell you feel guilty and try to dismiss his aid. You even try to conjure up a weak smile. A smile that brings the Harbinger to his knees, kneeling beside your bed and silently cursing whatever celestial fate allowed you to suffer so.

"Shhh... sweetheart. I know you despise it, but you must comply to drink this medicine. I will not let ailments win over you."

Imagine how Capitano would never trade any paradise for seeing you smile on the rare days that you feel better. You try to move around, dismissing any help from the servants. Capitano would step in, link a protective arm around yours, and take you on a stroll in the manor's garden. The imposing Captain would make sure his steps are slow and careful so you won't feel rushed. However, the opposite always occurs. Keen to use the most of your condition today, you keep rushing off ahead of him.

Imagine Il Capitano rushing after you gently, catching you before you accidentally trip or fall from your childlike sprints. With a single arm around your torso, he easily picks you up from behind. His tender warnings go unheard as you giggle joyously. A rare and merry sound for him.

If the Snezhnayan weather allows it, he brings a designated blanket to drape over your legs, ensuring your comfort as the two of you spend the entire morning outdoors. He’d hold you close, sharing tales of his battles and missions. But what’s the point of talking about work when you can’t even accompany him and all he does is fight for the sake of returning home – to you.

Who has the right to define what constitutes strength and weakness? Perhaps for some, physical prowess and overcoming adversity may epitomize the ultimate warrior, while the opposite rings true for the meek. Nonetheless, a certain Harbinger will argue against it. For even he weakens at the sight of your unwavering smile, whenever you are at your worst condition. Or when you muster the deepest courage to get up on your own instead of seeking help. Who is he to boast as the strongest person in Teyvata, when every day you fight to survive?

Hence, imagine the 1st of the Fatui Harbinger lowering his head in reverence for you. Despite your bewilderment in his manners, he seeks your embrace so he can hear that heartbeat safe and beating, praising each day he gets to hold you in his arms. -

[diejager]

Hi! In your Only Human AU what would happen if TF 141 + König and Horangi go into a something like a “rut”? Or is that possible in this universe? If it is would they ask Y/N for help? If possible can it be in the form of a Drabble🥺?

Rut Cw: rut/heat cycles, mention of sex, possessive behaviour, obsessiveness, mention of knotting, implied smut, tell me if I missed any.

Ruts were odd phenomenons, it reduced hybrids and monsters to desperate and horny men, clinging onto the person they considered their mate for relief and pleasure. Some hybrids had ruts, like canid and felid shifters or shifters in general, a monthly cycle that incapacitated them. Others were luckier, having a few ruts per year, sometimes once every few month or once a year; these could range from a dragon to a harpie or from a percht to a gorgon. There, however, were some exceptions, spectral beings and the undead were without ruts, their body long dead and able to function without it, yet they could impregnate and be impregnated as any other hybrid and monster could. They suffered from bouts of occasional arousal, little flares of pleasure when faced with a situation that turned them on or by strong emotions towards someone or something.

You were unfortunately enough to be thrown into a group of rutting hybrids - with the sole exception of Ghost - unprepared and without a forewarning on how to deal with them. You had to deal with a clingy werewolf, howling at the moon and whining in utter heartbreak because you told him off for humping your leg in the rec room, huffing and gasping down your neck. A hissing and possessive tiger, stalking you down the halls and jumping you whenever you were alone to ravage you against the wall, mouthing and nipping at your neck, making sure his scent would stick over the wolf and nagual musk. And a protective nagual, looming over you like a shadow, arm slung around your shoulder and ready to start a fight with the other shifters if they tried masking his scent.

Luckily, their ruts never overlapped, it might’ve been a fortunate coincidence, but one that you wouldn’t take for granted. You had a schedule drawn up in the first year after they accepted you into their pack, Soap’s was always after the full moon, the silver disk being the catalyst to his urge; Horangi had his in the later days of each month, oftentimes beginning on the last day of the werewolf’s rut; and Alejandro took the first week of the month, starting slowly on the third or fourth day and ramping up on the following day.

Unfortunately, you hadn’t put in consideration for the others. Price, Gaz and König also had their moments in the yearly cycle, falling victim to the throes of instinctual need. You thanked your lucky star that Gaz rutted once or twice a year - thrice on rare accounts - with little to no change in his character. He might’ve been more hands, wanting to keep a hand around your waist, to give you soft and loving kisses on your lips as much as he did on your cheek, nose and forehead.

Price and König were a handful, one hoarded you to his office and had you follow him wherever he went, and the other was deathly possessive and deep into his instincts. König was on the extreme side of his type, breaking out nearly six to seven times a year, stuck mid shift with broader shoulders, red eyes and a monstrous appearance, and he had half the mind to stay considerate to other. A danger stumbling on two feet. Price was the medium, a perfect balance with three or four ruts yearly and a the self control to let you go if the situation demanded it. Despite his self-control, he was still a dragon, controlling and possessive, ordering you to come straight back to him whether or not you were knotted to Soap or Rudy was balls deep inside of you.

Despite Rudolfo being considered a monster, he was simply a human with the ability to control cadejos, as vulnerable and as resilient as one. And being human meant that he got aroused, coaxing you into his room for the night and taking care of the heat brewing between your legs. Much like Rudy, Ghost retained his bodily function - human wise - and came back as a monster, but he was a stranger to ruts, scoffing at the neediness and vulnerability of one. That, however, never stopped him from indulging in his sexual kinks and dark fetishes, having you as the subject of his exploration if no one else hit their cycles.

They were a handful, from Soap’s mutt-like character to Rudy’s calm demeanour, they had you exhausted, wringing you dry and panting, always ending up face down or backed against the wall. You were grateful - truly - that the others would willingly jump in and take over for you, helping whoever it was spend his rut. Now, you’d have to redraw your calendar, tired and clinging to your bed to stand up.

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @yeetusspagheetus @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @ki-cant-spel @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @mul-pi @danielle143 @virginalsacrifice @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo

[perlelune]

no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | xii. {END}

Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.

Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

Your nerves stir as William considers you in silence. It’s all he’s done for the last few agonizing minutes, stare at you without uttering a single word. Perhaps you’ve shared too much? Overestimated how much he could take? You’ve told him everything, not skipping over any detail as he asked. How Coriolanus lured you into his web. Weaved a myriad of honeyed lies you naively fell for. Coaxed you into staying with him. Planted a seed that will soon grow into a permanent reminder of all he did to you. 

The whole, plain horrible truth.

Much as it ached to tell the story, and relive it in a way, you were thorough and concise. Your voice may have wavered a little, your eyes evaded William’s at times, but now he has the full story. 

And he’s free to do as he pleases with that knowledge.

“William?” you inquire again. 

This time he swallows a deep breath. Fearful expectancy knots your gut. He clenches his fists and bolts to his feet. 

“I’m going to kill him.”

You wedge yourself between him and the door as he takes long, determined strides toward the exit.

“Wait!” you urge, panic trembling through your voice.

William scoff, a frown marring his brow.

“What? You want to protect him? After everything he’s done to you?”

Your lips tighten. A surge of tears fights its way past your lids but you suppress them. Too much is at stake for you to crumble right now. You straighten your spine and lift your chin.

“It’s not that. Of course I don’t care what happens to him but…” You place your hands on his forearms. He seems to relax at your touch and a sliver of relief leaks inside your chest. Perhaps there is still hope for you and William. “He’s dangerous, William. Cunning, slippery. Like a snake.”

His jaw clenches. “We’ll see about that when I have my fist in his throat.”

He tries to move forward but you keep firmly blocking his path. Once again, you try to reason with him. “No, he really is…deranged.” No other word arises in your mind. You shudder as you recall the glint of madness in his blue eyes. “He has my parents under his spell. I really don’t think he’ll stop at anything to get his way.” Your mouth quivers. “He’ll hurt you.”

“Let him try,” William grumbles, clenching his fists. 

Rage oozes off him, coating the air. You feel its intensity in your very bones. When he said he wanted to kill Coriolanus, it wasn’t a metaphor. It’s how furious your fiancé is after hearing your story.

“William, no…For me. Let it go.” You grab his hands, bringing them to your face. They slowly loosen, his gaze softening as it rests on you. “Let’s just leave. I know I’m asking for a lot. Asking you to raise another man’s child-”

He cradles your face. “It doesn’t matter. It’ll be our child. They won’t even have to know his name.” 

You drape your hands over his, emotion making your voice waver.

“You really mean that?”

His thumbs sweep over your cheek.

“Of course. I made a promise to you.” He smiles. “And I never stopped loving you.”

You suck in a sharp breath. “Even after everything?”

A glimpse of sadness crosses his features.

“It hurt. Of course, it hurt. But there’s no other girl than you for me, and there never will be.” Overwhelmed, you stare at him a long time, basking in his bottomless devotion. How did you end up so lucky? Even after all the misfortune you suffered, amidst your woe, you still found William. A love as rare and pure as a pearl lost in the ocean.

You get on your tiptoes to press your lips over his. At first, it’s tentative. You’re wondering if perhaps it’s too soon, if he’s truly forgiven you. But your doubts evaporate as he eagerly returns the kiss. Your heart swells. He cups your cheeks and you melt against him, soaking his scent and the familiar taste of his skin. You could cry. You missed him so much. For the first time in weeks, air finds a home in your lungs again.

When your lips part, he leans his forehead against yours. For a while, you just revel in each other’s presence, warm breaths mingling in the cool air.

“So what’s the plan?” he asks, his knuckles skimming down your neck. “You…do have a plan, right?”

Taking a deep breath, you stand up straight.

“I’m thinking we hitch a late night train to District 2. There’s a weapons shipment tonight.” You grimace. “My dad, h-he sends them to the Peacekeepers garrisons there.” Every time you remember the part your father plays in keeping people in the Districts cowered and afraid of the Capitol’s wrath, you feel sick. This is who the man who raised you has become. Someone who turns a blind eye to his own people’s suffering. It makes you wonder if maybe he and Coriolanus are cut from the same cloth after all. Both of them opportunists. Both of them eager to step over everything and everyone to further their goals. Your father gives the Capitol the ammunition it needs to terrorize. And Coriolanus fuels them with ideas to keep that terror alive.

“We could head South, start a new life there,” William suggests.

You blink in surprise. This is a drastic decision, one you never expected to hear leave his lips.

“You mean, leave Panem?”

“Why not? There is nothing for us here. I don’t think there ever was.”

“You’d be leaving your family and friends behind William. A-Are you sure?”

He sends you a warm smile, rubbing your arms.

“You’re my family. You’re all I need.”

Your heart flutters, a fresh breeze of hope passing through you. 

“William…”

“This is my choice. I’m choosing you,” he interrupts, his inflection firmer than before. “In sickness and in health, until death do us part, right?”

You search his eyes and are shocked to realize William means this. He wants to elope with you, follow you into uncertainty and escape the Capitol’s vicious rule.

“I’m sorry…about everything.”

His tender lips graze your forehead.

“There is nothing to forgive. None of this was your fault.”

His soothing words cast a balm over your wounded heart. You spent so long blaming yourself, tortured by your own thoughts and lamenting every choice you made. It’s refreshing to hear that maybe, not all the responsibility falls upon your shoulders.

You wipe the budding tears in your eyes.

“We have to be quick,” you say, your voice more confident than before. “Coriolanus, he…we need to be long gone before he notices I left.”

William squeezes your shoulder.

“You don’t have to be scared of him anymore. I won’t let him get anywhere near you. If he wants to breathe the same air as you, he’ll have to do it over my dead body.”

He wraps his arms around you and, for the first time in several weeks, you feel safe.

You help William pack his most essential belongings before the two of you sneak into the night. Despite what he said, you don’t miss the brief way his green eyes mist as he shoves a picture of his parents and little sister into a leather bag. Guilt floods your insides. You’re the one in trouble, not him. Several times, you grapple with the urge to tell him to stay, that you can do this on your own. But there is no going back now. It’s too late. Besides, a selfish part of you doesn’t want to. It’s scary enough, leaving everything behind. The Capitol. Your childhood home. Your parents. Having William at your side is the only way you won’t fall apart out here. You don’t see yourself surviving beyond the borders without him. As much as you complained about your life here, you’re aware of how sheltered you’ve been. You always had food on the table. You were never cold. You always had a warm bed to sleep in.

Now, those things will not be guaranteed. 

You and William try to act natural around every peacekeeper you brush past, pretending you’re just two lovers meeting for a late night tryst. Still, your heart leaps each time you get a glimpse of the blue uniforms. You haven’t forgotten the time Coriolanus spent in district 12, paranoia prowling the edge of your mind. It’s not like he has any affiliation with them now, does he?

Sensing your unease, William squeezes your hand in reassurance. You smile at him.

Still, you don’t relax until the two of you have hailed a cab and are on your way to the train station on the outskirts of the city. 

Even when the two of you successfully make it onto the back of a cargo train unnoticed, you’re still on alert. Even the whistle of the train as it rumbles to life and leaves the station doesn’t grant you peace. William wraps his arm around your shoulders. The two of you are sitting on the floor behind a gigantic crate of machine guns.

He drops a kiss atop your head.

“Hey, everything will be fine. I promise. Nothing will happen to you.”

You tuck yourself against him. You wish you could let go of your fear but dread’s had you in its clutches since you left the station. Would Coriolanus’ plans for you be thwarted so easily? You find it hard to believe, remembering his unflinching desire to make you fall in line.

Still, you give a weak smile.

“You’re right. I’m being silly.”

As soon as you utter the words however, the train hisses and makes an abrupt stop on the tracks.

William frowns.

“What’s happening? I’ll go ch-”

Before your fiancé can finish his sentence, the doors of the wagon open. A gust of frosty wind whisks inside the train. William’s eyes widen but there’s no time to process his shock as he’s kicked in the gut by a peacekeeper.

Another man appears and the two of them yank him out of the train. 

“William!” you shout, jumping out of the wagon. 

Your fiancé coughs out blood as he’s dragged away by the two blue-clad men. He tries to fight them but they kick him in the jaw. He crashes into the grass. 

Your chest seizes. You begin racing towards him. However as the two men shift, revealing someone else behind them, someone whose haunting blue stare is forever engraved into your memories, you freeze. 

He scrutinizes you before shaking his head.

“You disappoint me, princess,” Coriolanus sighs, folding his arms. “I thought you were finally coming to your senses.”

The two men force William on his knees, one of them pointing his gun at his head to keep him docile. Your eyes water. Helplessness tugs at your chest. He took no time to find you. Did you ever stand a chance?

“Coriolanus, just let us go. This is…all of this is going too far,” you plead. 

He arches his brow, disdain lacing his tone as he says, “You really think I’d let my child grow up in a district?”

“You bastard,” William spits, hate flaring in his green eyes. 

Malice sways in Coriolanus’ orbs as he takes in your fiancé. His taunting voice echoes through the field.

“Oh, does it sting, knowing I’ve had her before you in every possible way?”

He tries to lunge himself at the blond. Your breath catches as you watch the peacekeepers beat him into submission. He keels over in the grass, coughing up more blood.

Coriolanus turns to you.

“I’m going to give you a choice, princess. Come back home to the Capitol with me, willingly. I’ll forgive you, set the entire matter aside and we can focus on our guest list, cake tasting and finding you the perfect dress for our wedding.” He tilts his head, his smile vanishing. “Or don’t. And I really can’t say what I’ll do next.” He chuckles darkly. “I just know you won’t like it.”

You look at him, disbelief and sadness surging through you. You wonder where your friend disappeared to, the one who dried your tears and whispered soft words of reassurance whenever your mood dipped, the one who showered you with gifts and attentions. The one who was kind. 

Who is this stranger standing before you?

Coriolanus laughs. 

“You know Sejanus looked at me the exact same way…like he expected me to be someone I’m not, someone I never was.” His eyes lock with yours. “Right to the bitter end.”

Your stomach sinks, an awful realization digging its way through your mind. You don’t know how you know. Perhaps it’s that smug smile on his lips. Perhaps that glow in his eyes. Or that subtle inflection to his words. Either way, you just know.

You know what Coriolanus did and your entire world falls apart.

Sejanus too never stood a chance, you bet.

You nod. “I’ll come with you.”

A subtle smile blooms on Coriolanus’ lips.

“What?” William stares at the interaction in shock.

Coriolanus offers you his hand as you approach.

“It’s over, William,” you mumble, too ashamed to meet his gaze. You focus on taking Coriolanus’ hand instead. His touch is deceptively soft. “Just go back home, forget about this. Forget about me.”

Your spirits sink lower and lower with every word that leaves your mouth. You are willingly walking to your grave.

William shakes his head.

“No way…”

Everything that follows happens in a blur. So quickly you barely register what’s going on. First, William throws himself at the blond. You gasp as you watch them wrestle, Coriolanus having a clear advantage. Next, one of the peacekeepers hands him a gun. 

He points it at his temple.

Ribbons of blood fly from William’s skull, painting Coriolanus’ shirt crimson.

Time stops for you as your eyes grow wide with horror.

The blond dusts himself off, shoving William’s limp frame off him as he rises.

He sighs at his stained shirt.

“This was brand new,” he laments.

You rush to William and fall to your knees near his unmoving body. It takes all your strength to even shift him a little. 

“William? William, please?” you whimper. His lifeless green eyes rise to the moon in the sky, his soft mouth parted in a scream that never will be. 

Your heart shatters into a million pieces, the shards piercing through your being and trailing scars in their wake. It will never stitch itself back together.

In the background, Coriolanus orders one of the peacekeepers.

“Get rid of the bodies. Make sure nothing is left. And I’ll put in a good word for your sister at the Citadel,” he promises.

The other peacekeeper pipes up, “The bodies? But there’s only one-”

A gunshot erupts. A few feet away, you watch one of the peacekeepers, the one who spoke up, crash into the ground. The other one shot him. Smoke still rises from his gun as Coriolanus nods at the man in approval.

“Like we agreed, I’ll also write to Commander Hoff on your behalf. You’ll start officer training next month.”

More words are exchanged between the two men but they fade amidst the buzz rising inside your head. You lie atop William’s corpse, numb as you faintly hope to find a heartbeat.

After a while, you’re hauled off your feet by a pair of strong arms. You struggle but it’s for naught. You’re taken away, William’s unmoving form dwindling in your vision.

“No, I can’t leave him…”

Coriolanus carries you bridal style to a vehicle. He places you in the passenger seat and ties your seatbelt. 

“Shh, it’s okay, princess,” he coos. “You need to calm down. This isn’t good for you and the baby.”

The baby. You have to admit that for a second, you considered trying to pry the gun out of Coriolanus’ hands and shooting it into your own head. End it all once and for all. Your life has already ended. So what difference would it make? But then you remembered. Your life isn’t just yours anymore. 

You look at the blond through tearful eyes, your hoarse voice swelling in the car. 

“Did you get my brother killed?”

Coriolanus puts on his own seatbelt and turns the key in the ignition. “What an awful assumption to make, princess.”

He grips the steering wheel as the engine roars to life. 

“However, it might be a good time to remember…that your father’s written me into his will.” Your breath stumbles. “Which means, though I prefer him alive to walk my beautiful bride down the aisle…” His blue eyes glimmer, his lips curving upward. “I also don’t need him to be.”

He shakes his head and sighs, running his fingers atop your thigh.

“Who knows how long he still has, with those heart issues of his. Anything could happen.”

“One day you will pay. For all of them,” you grit out, the sheer hate you feel for him overflowing in your tone. 

He fondles your cheek, his smile growing. 

“Perhaps… But not today.” He pauses, as if he just remembered something. He reaches inside the pocket of his coat. 

“Here,” he says as he pulls out a small velvet box.

You witness in horror as Coriolanus removes William’s ring from your finger and slips another one in its place. It’s ostentatious, the red rubies shimmering like blood in the darkness.

Once it’s on your finger, he admires it. He brings your hand to his lips, brushing a soft kiss over your knuckles. 

“Fits perfectly, just like I know it would,” he chimes. 

[yourmomsawh0r3]

Could you write a benedict bridgerton x reader fic where the reader is on bedrest for the last few weeks of her pregnancy due to pre-eclampsia, and benedict will not leave her side because he feels guilty having to just watch. Ben doesn't even touch his easel or see his family much to readers sadness

of course! hope you enjoy🫶🏼

Paint

Benedict Bridgerton x wife fem reader

Benedict Bridgerton was a man accustomed to the vibrant swirl of colors on his easel, the laughter of his family filling the halls of their home, and the lively events of the ton. But now, he found himself ensnared in a muted world, tethered to his beloved wife's bedside. The news had come suddenly: Y/N was to be on strict bedrest for the remainder of her pregnancy due to pre-eclampsia. The worry etched into the physician's face was mirrored in Benedict's heart, and he vowed not to leave her side.

The once-bustling house had quieted, with Benedict's studio abandoned and his family visits growing rare. His easel, which had once been his solace and joy, stood untouched in the corner of the room, a testament to the life he had temporarily put on hold. His world had narrowed to Y/N and their unborn child, and he watched her with a fierce, protective love that made every minute away from her feel like an eternity.

Y/N lay in their bed, her face pale but resolute. She had always been strong, a beacon of light in Benedict's life, and even now, confined to bed, she remained his guiding star. "Benedict," she said softly one evening, reaching out to take his hand. Her fingers were cool against his warmth, a stark reminder of her fragility.

"Yes, my love?" he asked, his voice gentle but edged with the worry that never left him.

"You mustn't neglect your painting," she urged. "It brings you so much joy, and I hate to see you without it."

Benedict shook his head, his grip tightening around her hand. "How can I paint when the only thing I see is you here, suffering? I can't find beauty in anything else right now."

Y/N's eyes softened, and she squeezed his hand. "Then paint me," she suggested. "Paint us. Our child. Paint the love you feel. Let it flow through you onto the canvas. It might help you as much as it helps me to see you doing what you love."

He kissed her hand, his lips lingering as he closed his eyes. "Maybe," he whispered, though he wasn't sure if he could bear to move from her side, even for a moment.

Days blurred into nights, and Benedict continued his vigil, reading to her, talking to her, simply being there. His family sent messages of concern and support, and his mother, Violet, visited as often as she could, offering comfort and practical help. She understood the fear that gripped her son, having faced similar fears herself with her own children.

One evening, as the setting sun cast a golden glow through the bedroom window, Y/N's condition seemed particularly fragile. Benedict could see the strain in her eyes, the way her breathing had grown shallower. His heart ached with helplessness, a deep seated guilt gnawing at him for being unable to alleviate her suffering.

"Don't you dare blame yourself," Y/N whispered, her intuition piercing through his silence. "You're doing everything you can, Benedict. Just being here with me is enough."

He leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers. "I feel so powerless, Y/N. I wish I could take this burden from you."

She smiled faintly, her fingers brushing his cheek. "You already are, by being with me. Our child will feel this love, Benedict. It's what keeps me strong."

It was in that moment that Benedict felt a shift within himself. He realized that he needed to find a way to channel his emotions, his love, and his fears into something that could give them both hope. That night, for the first time in weeks, he set up his easel beside the bed, positioning it so he could see Y/N as he worked.

With each stroke of the brush, he poured his heart onto the canvas. He painted Y/N as she was, a glowing embodiment of strength and grace, and he painted their unborn child, a symbol of the future they were fighting for. The hours slipped away unnoticed, and as the painting took shape, he felt a sense of peace he hadn't known in weeks.

Y/N watched him with tears in her eyes, moved by the depth of his love and the beauty he created even in the midst of their struggle. "It's beautiful," she whispered, her voice filled with awe and love.

Benedict turned to her, his eyes reflecting the soft light of the lantern. "You are my inspiration, Y/N. You and our child. I won't let anything take that away from us."

As the weeks passed, Benedict's dedication never wavered. He balanced his time between caring for Y/N and painting, finding solace in both. His family began to visit more frequently, bringing warmth and laughter back into the house, but always mindful of Y/N's condition. They were a lifeline, a reminder that they were not alone in their ordeal.

Finally, the day came when Y/N went into labor. The hours were long and arduous, filled with moments of intense fear and hope. Benedict never left her side, holding her hand and whispering words of encouragement. When their child was born, healthy and crying, the relief that washed over them was indescribable.

As Benedict held his newborn son, Thomas, for the first time, he looked into Y/N's exhausted but radiant face and knew that they had come through the darkness together. His love for her had only deepened, and he vowed never to let go of the precious gift they had been given.

In the quiet moments that followed, as Y/N slept with their child nestled beside her, Benedict returned to his easel. This time, he painted the image that would forever symbolize their journey: Y/N, their son, and himself, bound together by love and strength. It was a testament to the trials they had faced and the unbreakable bond that had carried them through.

[myslutwritings]

could you do headcanons of how muzan, kokushibo, and enmu would act when jealous? Tysm in advance if you do end up taking my request :))

yes! i like this idea. and ur welcome:))

➤ How Muzan, Kokushibo and Enmu act when they get jealous!

➤ Sfw headcanons (not proof read)

including: Muzan, Kokushibo, Enmu.

•

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warnings: none.

Muzan

Jealousy scale: 10/10.

I lied, it’s 10000000000/10

Come on, don’t be surprised.

You belong to him, no one else.

On top of burning jealousy this man is POSSESSIVE too.

Now, you have QUITE the ✨looks✨

So the chances of a man or a woman approaching you, attempting to initiate small talk or simply flirt are high.

And that right there of course makes Muzan uncomfortable. Absolutely hates it when anyone approaches you but he knows he can’t cause a scene like that knowing you’d be against it.

You can tell because he shoots that person the DEATH stare, wraps his arm protectively around your waist and just stares down at said person hitting you up.

Has the undying urge to murder them, literally has to physically restrain himself from punching their head off.

One day.. ONE DAY, he’ll give into his intrusive thoughts though the next time someone dares to flirt with him.

You’re a loyal S/O so you obviously reject them.

This deeply satisfies Muzan.

Like hell yeah, reject that worthless piece of scum!

The last thing the person sees is him cracking a sinister smile at them.

What you don’t know is that when you’re asleep he actually tracks them, hunts them down, and kills them.

Muzan can’t really help himself. These are his instincts, demon nature, ya know?

Kokushibo

His jealousy scale is similar to Muzans.

I mean, come on, this man become a demon because of his jealousy.

So yeah, he is a jealousy prick.

He’s more jealous than possessive though.

He knows his S/O has a charming and attractive personality with the looks that kill.

Kokushibo isn’t a big fan of going out to public places. But you can’t really blame him, his demonic form is clearly visible. Six eyed freak.

So, other humans aren’t usually flirting with you, in the beginning, he initially thought this was a problem he wouldn’t ever have to worry about considering he’s always around you, plus you never go out that much.

However, on those days you do go out, leaving your boyfriend behind for a few hours. You return back to y’all’s home later that night to inform him about the stranger that flirted with you.

Of course, he gets jealous, no surprises here.

You notice a rapid change in his body language.

It’s quite difficult to wrap your finger around what’s going on through that head of his.

Kokushibo rarely expresses his emotions after all.

He must remain menacing and put on that whole “emotionless” act.

If you assumed he only became jealous.. well, you thought wrong. I like to think Kokushibo would also feel insecure:(

Refuses to admit it, but you love him so you can tell right away that he’s feeling both insecure and jealous.

Koku knows you love and care for him greatly but there is always a dark thought looming in the back of his head, telling himself that you secretly don’t love him and are going to abandon him for someone else.

He lowkey thinks that he isn’t good enough for your love and affection.

He’s so complicated because he doesn’t express it. Instead he handles this jealousy and anger by killing whoever tried to take you from him.

Kokushibo is aware you’re against it but he couldn’t care less. He cannot risk losing you.

Another problem he suffers from is whenever you attend the uppermoon meetings.

So, in this situation, let’s say you’re a demon.

Higher ranked or lower, you still attend those meetings with him.

No one usually bothers you two APART FROM DOUMA.

Bro will not hesitate to rizz you up right in front of kokushibo.

“Woah! Hey, there, Y/N-chan. You look quite beautiful today!~”

Douma you fucked up BIG time.

Gets decapitated for staring at you 😍😍

Not only Douma receives the message but so does every uppermoon.

Enmu

The picture i used above is his facial expression whenever he catches someone that isn’t him tryna hit on you.

Okay, so out of all the other demons, Enmu is the least jealous but he still gets jealous if you catch my drift.

Jealousy scale?? maybe a solid 8/10 or 7/10??

Mostly becomes jealous when other demons flirt with you. Not really humans because he can easily just kill them!!

Feels VERY threatened when a higher ranking demon flirts with you.

I mean, he has the urge to fight them because you belong to him but he knows he’ll get his ass kicked.

If it was a lower demon flirting with you then Enmu would kill them. No questions asked.

Is ALWAYS touching you.

Touches you even more when someone flirts with you.

Like he either has his arm wrapped around your waist or he’s holding your hand TIGHTLY.

Just wears a fake smile when some demon or human is being a little too friendly towards you.

Enmu is reluctant when it comes to even letting you out by yourself. he’s lowkey paranoid someone will try to steal you from him so he’s always attached to your hip.

During the times he isn’t present he will find out if anyone ever upset you, talked to you, flirted with you, etc.

Even if you don’t tell him, he’ll find out and downright TORTURE them if they’re a human.

Honestly, it really depends on how he’s feeling.

His jealousy scale changes on how he is feeling.

If he’s in a rather good mood that day then he’ll leave it be if you ask nicely.

But be wary of the days he’s in a bad mood. Enmu will show zero mercy.

[purple-obsidian]

I'm back in your inbox again. Hello 👋

Been thinking about your ak jason todd and you've mentioned that his men know about her. They're intimidated by him and for good reason. But, hear me out, is Jason still working with scarecrow in your story?

Maybe Scarecrow is looking for the weakness in what seems like the arkham knights flawless armor. Maybe one of Jason's men isn't so loyal, or maybe scarecrow uses fear gas to get it out of them.

But I'm thinking how badly Jason would react if the reader was even in the slightest bit of danger or even vaugley threatened by scarecrow, even in passing. (Or slade, or even one of his men.) I think there'd be a bullet involved before the sentence is even over. Cause no matter how he treats her, she's still his person.

hello my friend! <3

in my little au, my fics 'say it back' and 'let go' happen just after the events of arkham knight, so jason is no longer working with scarecrow. i imagine that gotham is still a wreck, and jason hasn't yet transitioned to being red hood. so he's 'found' himself enough to have helped bruce in the end, but he's still harbors a crap ton of resentment and anger towards him and the others, and is still not above using lethal violence against those he thinks deserve it.

in my mind, this time period here is extremely tumultuous for him as he struggles to redefine and analyze what his goals and plans are now. like, if you're familiar with ATLA, i liken it to prince zuko getting physically ill after letting appa free. a sort of crisis of his self image. joker spent so much time convincing jason over and over how batman left him, abandoned him, telling him that bats was the enemy. and jason believed it, but when push came to shove, jason didn't exact his revenge. this turmoil inside of him, along with the unprocessed trauma of jokers multitude of atrocities, is what fuels a lot of his anger and unpredictability. his hired men are left over from his militia, he kept a handful of his most trusted guys on his payroll to help solidify his authority in gothams underworld. however, in my version of events, jason and reader were reunited back when he and scarecrow were still working together.

so, back to the original question. if earlier on, scarecrow had found out about reader, [and you're right, he had to trust some of his men to help keep her safe, so they could of had the info squeezed out of them. or maybe they were loose-lipped and talking shit, who knows.] no way crane could've resisted the temptation.

i think we can all agree that jason would use lethal force to protect reader. his own sins against her be damned, just because he's treated her like shit doesn't mean he will allow anyone else to threaten her or even touch her.

if it were dr. crane trying to use his fear gas on reader, jason would kill him on sight. no questions asked.

if it were someone less dangerous, like one of his militia getting too comfortable with reader, i see a possibility of him taking his time. we saw in 'let go' that he has some dark urges inside of him to hurt others the way he's been hurt. don't know if he'd actually have it in him to brutally torture someone, but if reader was injured, assaulted, or seriously harmed, who knows.

an important thing, though, is that i think jason would feel guilty after. not for killing them, not if they hurt his person. he'll be able to live with that just fine. but anything that prolongs their suffering i think he would feel remorse for, later on, when he's had more time to heal. more than anything, it will scare him to look back on it and know he's capable of such evil.

there would be a rare moment of vulnerability between jason and reader after he's eliminated the threat and can check and make sure readers okay.

if reader were suffering from fear gas, he would take her somewhere private and hold her close, not letting go until the toxin is out of her system, even if it's hours. most likely blaming himself the whole time and triggering him to spiral further down his path of self-hatred.

in the case of his militia men, they would be knocked out, and jason would get reader to safety asap. if reader has severe injuries, he may chance setting foot in a hospital, even though it reminds him of arkham. if the injuries are less severe, he would probably lock her up somewhere safe while he 'takes care' of the perpetrator, later returning to reader with bloody hands and eyes full of fear.

no matter the outcome, poor jay would be extra protective over reader for a while, second guessing who he trusts to leave her with and who is vetted enough to guard his safehouse when she's inside.

gahhhhh you're making me want to replay the games to brush up on the lore. its so tragic, jasons story. my heart hurts for him.

i would apologize for such a long-winded, unorganized response to a simple question, but i know you're just as obsessed as i am 😈

xoxo sid

[cod-dump]

Shadow Company Moose is ruining my life and it's your fault /affectionate/

*throws a heart shaped pillow at you* fuck you

(I hope you understand that this is all in kindness, I could never hate you but Moose is ruining me and my life. Everything was peaceful and then you said "yup Moose is officially Shadow Company's gentle giant that is capable of extreme violence on a rare occasion" and just how dare you)

Me actively writing something involving Moose and suffering from severe brainworms:

*hysterically laughing* SUFFER WITH ME!

___

Moose the Shadow, Graves’ favorite boy. Hell, every Shadow who meets him loves him and will protect him. He’s generally tech but has snapped under extreme pressure before and cleared a whole militia. Graves met him when he was in another company and was impressed by his skill… and also had a overwhelming urge to steal and adopt him.

So, now Shadow Company has their Moose. And god help anyone who harms him.

[hastyprovocateur]

Seki was such a beautifully written character in terms of his "masculine" drive to urge Akemi, his pupil whom he forged in an image no less than a man to be great versus his motherly side of having raised her and accepted her in all her naivety. Seki raised Akemi to be wise, free thinking, iron willed, creative, controlling and quick to adapt. While the first part of the show is his masculine side whiteknuckling Akemi into the Shogunate where he believes she'll flourish with power at her disposal, the rest of the show and his ultimate redemption was his motherly love of letting her go and giving her the agency to decide for herself if she wishes to choose a domestic life or the emperor's seat. His hamartia is his absolute love for her. Seki was apprehensive when Akemi began choosing for herself, bravely setting off on her own expedition, fighting dangerous entities, offering herself up for challenge, however these are the very things Seki himself excelled her in. It's akin to teaching a ferocious animal to hunt in the safety of a house, but ultimately loving it too much to keep it tethered. His love manifested from being scared of the consequences of her freedom to loving her enough to suffer the consequences of her freedom.

This love letter is to you, Seki. You raised our Akemi to the Empress she'll become.

I love these shots. It brings me peace knowing Seki met Mizu before he died, one of the rare good people in Akemi's life who fought to protect her besides himself.

[colourstreakgryffin]

Yandere Choso and Yandere Sukuna with a reader who had extremely rare and beautiful eyes? Unfortunately, she had her eyes taken away and was blinded by an evil sect?

Hmmmm… okkkaaayy. Pretty simple to be honest. No clue what a sect in Jujutsu Kaisen is but anyway! I’ll try this out. Thanks for the simplicity but interesting idea! Spreading out lots of love and appreciation! I think this is the first time I’ve written Ryomen so let’s goooo~! Welcome in, King!

Yandere! Kamo Choso

Furious… that’s it. That’s the only thing Choso feels. This single stupid cursed item has taken away his beloved most beautiful feature. Her eyes, her gorgeous, rare, magnificent, worth-millions eyes. Now, they are gone. He is so furious that he can barely stay together when he is bringing you home after the incident

Choso cannot beleive he failed to protect you… you’re his everything, his precious little angel, the one who turned him from some fighting machine of a cursed object to a real being with emotions and sanity. You changed him and he doesn’t even have the strength to protect you? How pathetic of him

Choso does his best to try help you through this event. He clings onto you tightly and curses himself out for not being able to save your eyesight. Not only are the most beautiful things possible gone, now you can’t see anymore. He swears on his life he will always take care of you and this results in a extreme amount of isolation and possession

Choso can’t afford to lose any piece of you. You’re precious and you’ve lost those sparkling crystals called your eyes. He is always fuming with rage over your lost but he needs to shove that aside to never let this happen again

Yandere! Sukuna Ryomen

Ryomen immediately rampaged the second he found out his beautiful princess has suffered such a traumatising incident and lost her eyesight for good. Those beautiful, shining, eccentric, jaw-dropping eyes have been torn out and torn apart. How did— oh god. Ryomen is raging at Yuji, taking over the body and destroying venturing in his path in his immense anger. He couldn’t protect you… all because of Yuji!

Ryomen immediately rushes to you and checks on you, so worried and kicking at himself for the fact he let your eyes being ripped out from a nonsensical sect. He just cuddles onto you and holds back the urge to cry out in outrage. Nothing will touch you, he will destroy this Earth and if anybody tries to. He lost his angel’s happiness and her intense beauty

Ryomen, from within Yuji, stalks you intensely. Since Yuji is taking care of you when he suppresses Ryomen, he stalks you and threatens Yuji to protect you since you need it. Ryomen is almost desperate to seperate himself from this brat to make sure he can constantly guard and control you so this never happens once more

He has a intense grudge over the sect that took away your eyesight, he can’t stand not being around you and he is basically clawing at the within of Yuji to get out so he can drag you into a safe environment. Isolate you, grow even more possessive and obsessive, he needs to make sure you’ll always be okay… always, no matter what

[turbulentscrawl]

If I may ask, may you do general headcanons for emil, if not then just ignore this💜

Suuuuure can!

!Edited on 01/26/24 to add a few more small HCs!

Warning: Mentions of abuse (a lot)

-Emil’s health situation is as complicated as it is depressing. He suffers from chronic pain that’s a result of the years of abuse he’s endured—both in the dog fighting ring and in the asylum. Ironically, he’s got some of the highest pain tolerance out of all the survivors, but it’s difficult to tell when he’s I the middle of his worst days. (This pain tolerance is all psychological, however. A little something he developed as a defense mechanism.)

-Pain medicine does little for him now. He was on such high doses of opioids while in the middle of his shock and bloodletting treatments that they don’t help much anymore while also having dealt him some lasting issues like low blood pressure and brittle bones. This bone weakness, his parkour movements, and lowered sensitivity to pain mean he tends to suffer more severe injuries in matches than most.

-Emil’s communication skills have improved over the last few years, but he still struggles with writing and social cues. He’s used to the body language of dogs and angry men, so things like confident shoulders and direct eye contact make him nervous. If those behaviors are displayed towards Ada or another special person, he may become aggressive.

-In addition to his communication struggles, Emil’s emotions are also rather stunted; he often has disproportionate reactions to events and stimulus around himself. (He especially tends to under-react.) It’s very rare for Emil to cry or become genuinely angered. He spends most of his time with that pitiful, placating, resting smile and just letting the world whirl around him.

-Emil’s attachment to Ada mostly comes down to hers being the first truly kind hand he’s ever been offered. Despite any dubious motives, Ada does genuinely care about helping people, and at the time of meeting Emil she had not been a practicing physician long enough to be come jaded or careless. Other doctors did not spare Emil any sympathy because he was quiet and obedient, but Ada still gave him those. Her being in trouble is one of the few times this emotional reactions will be high—he’s terrified of losing his only source of comfort, and will become desperate and violent in order to keep her safe.

-Emil likes “being in a daze” because when he’s drugged up his constant pain is muffled. But he’s also less aware in general, and he’s so desperate for affection that he’s willing to forego the relief to be alert around Ada, or anyone else who dotes on him. Also similar to a dog, he’s fiercely loyal to Ada because she takes care of him. It’s not impossible for him to become attached to others too, but it will take time and repeat exposure to get over his protective urges. He’s more likely to get along with children and people Ada specifically introduces him to.

-Emil doesn’t have much preference in regards to food; he’s used to eating slop, scraps, and dog kibble. He does, however, like cakes because Ada always gave those to him as a “treat.” They represent another form of praise and affection to him. He prefers to eat with his hands than utensils—it hurts to try gripping those tiny things.

-Emil is afraid of dogs, and this unfortunately includes Wick. He and Victor don’t get along well because of how much the pup means to the Postman. He does seem to have some fondness for Ann’s cat, though.

-Most love languages work well for Emil, but Physical Touch and Words of Affirmation are his favorites to receive. (He rarely knows what to do with the gifts he’s given, however.) To give, he likes Acts of Service and Gift Giving. Emil loves to be touched gently, for any reason. Pet his hair, rub his back, massage his hands, he doesn’t care as long as you’re doing it with the intention of being loving and gentle. He even easily forgives missteps that aggravate his pre-existing pain. Uneducated as he is, Emil still knows what remorse looks like. The gifts he gives are rarely valuable in a monetary way, but he likes to share pretty things with the people he loves. A wire ring, a nice rock he found, the undamaged wings of a dead butterfly, you get the idea.

-Sexual abuse was among the abundance of mistreatment he suffered growing up. If and when Emil does engage in those sorts of activities, they require patience and a lot of communication to avoid triggering him. Ironically, he does better with those things when he’s NOT being regularly treated by Ada because the memories are buried too deep to crop up.

-Emil is somewhere between the ages of 25 and 28. As an adult, he grows facial hair, but he's not able to shave himself due to both a nervousness about knives and unsteady hands. Ada does it for him about once a week, and it's a time-consuming activity due to Emil needing regular reassurances.

-Another trait he's picked up from his canine company is "licking his wounds." And other people's if he cares about them enough. You've cut your finger? In his mouth it goes. Saliva does tend to promote healing to an extent, so most people let his behavior be.

[petitelepus]

So, I've been seeing these kny match ups and naturally in curious about mine cough um4. So I guess, I just put up the type of paring I want and go from there.

Here's all about spife for a yandere/romantic match up (my gender preference for a partner is men):

I'm a rather positive person, who has no time to spare for those who wish to put me down. Although, at first it may seem like I'm revealing too much (which I sometimes do) I have my fair share of secrets and allow myself to be vulnerable with only those I trust– I tend to shrink back into my little shy hole if I think I'm too much. I like complimenting people, like to remind them to not put themselves down and be kind to themselves even if they make mistakes. I also like helping people because it makes me happy to see people happy (especially those who need to vent, I'm willing to listen and be the shoulder to cry on, even if I'm a complete stranger). However, I am also very emotionally sensitive (I get the urge to cry if someone I really like yells at me or lectures me about something I find funny even if they're trying to help as they make me realise I'm embarrassing or have embarrassed myself). I am assertive when I need to be, although in a calm and composed manner (I lose my temper when I'm frustrated though I think I do well under some pressure). I possess a strong sense of justice and FIRMLY believe in fairness for all and (usually) when I engage in deep conversations with my friends, I tend to pity those who suffer of the cruelty in the world and criticise those in power who choose to do nothing aka corruption. I am a FIRM believer that strength must be used to protect and help others and that people must have an open ear for the broken and hurt (I cry when people cry or for those who are misfortune and end up praying for them at times though very rarely). I am also quite lighthearted, though. I can laugh at myself if I make a mistake and will bring up the memory for fun times. And useless fact, I am a sweet tooth. In general, I'm a sensitive, introverted ray of sunshine who also will uphold their beliefs no matter what anyone says and despite the fact that I tend to be too lenient, I will almost always end up confronting someone. In general, I have been taught by my mother to always be kind to others because you don't know what they could be going though.

That was long. I'm curious to see who I get! Have a nice day (⁠つ⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)⁠つ

Hantengu is Yandere for you!

Hantengu was scared of you when you first met, but despite being a Demon, you showed him the benefit of the doubt because of how frail and pathetic he was to even look at.

He could deduce that you didn't see him as a threat, not yet anyway, no, you seemed to pity him. The moment Hantengu realized this, he knew he could manipulate you as much as he desired.

He makes you believe that nothing is his fault, that it wasn't his fault he was a Demon, or that he had to kill and eat people to live… And you believe him, because of what your mother said about not knowing what others have gone through.

Oh, you're such a Saint, surely you would pity poor innocent Hantengu! He hasn't done anything wrong, he swears, but people still bully and torment him!

Hearing him wail and cry and seeing him tremble so hard his teeth are clattering, they make you cry for his sake and they activate that protective nature of yours and that is exactly what the Demon aims for.

But Hantengu didn't expect to grow so fond of you. Normally he would eat anyone in your position, but you are strong, not some normal human, and he could use another bodyguard.

…But he falls for you and your chivalrousness, only when Hantengu falls for someone, he will become obsessed with them.

He has to know where you are and what you are doing every single second of the day. If you are gone too long or he doesn't know where you are, he starts to cry so hard and call out for you.

You think you must protect him when it might just be you who actually needs protection.

You're so sweet, he fears that other people might take advantage of that kindness of yours. Just like he does, but he is different! He loves you! What's their excuse!?

You're stunned when you first time meet his clones, and you can tell they are strong. That's when you start to realize that maybe there was more to Hantengu than you thought yet you still stay because they won't let you leave.

Sekido has to be careful around you because he has a tendency to snap at things, but he is obsessed with you just like Hantengu, and doesn't want to scare you off. He will tell you that you trust too easily, but when you ask what he means by that, he goes silent.

Karaku loves seeing and spending time with you. He is the most laid-back clone, but he loves having a good time and highly enjoys teasing you. You're just so cute when you get flustered, he could eat you up!

Aizetsu is probably the only one who feels awful about tricking you into becoming their own personal human, but he doesn't do anything to fix or make things better for you. In the end, he loves you also and doesn't want to let you go.

Urogi thinks it's hilarious how you actually believe Hantengu's innocence, but even Hantengu believes so also; so in the end you are both way too gullible. That works for him though.

The point is, Hantengu won't let you go and if it's a fight someone may want, his clones are there to protect him and his special bond with you.

I match you with Gyomei Himejima!

The Stone Hashira could sense you before he could "see" you. You radiated this brilliant, genuine, kind, and courageous aura, it nearly left him speechless.

He is happy to meet you and is crying in a matter of seconds, stating that he can "see" your "strength", whatever he meant by that. The two of you hit it off immediately and grow a strong bond of kindness and respect for each other.

You take an immediate liking to Gyomei, and you may feel like you need to take care of or help him because of his blindness, but he assures you that he can "see" fine on his own and how things had been that way since his childhood.

That doesn't help and it makes you cry, knowing how hard life must have been for him. The Hashira chooses not to tell you about the actual sadness and hardships he had to endure because he doesn't want you to cry anymore. If you cry, he might start crying too. This does happen daily.

You don't hold secrets from Gyomei and he feels honored that you trust him so much that you are willing to share so much about yourself with him. He makes small mental notes here and there to remember later, like your favorite book or what sweets you like most so he knows to get you some while he is out there hunting Demons.

Gyomei admires your strong sense of justice and how you want to see the best in everyone and everything... But this can make you gullible and he warns you about it.

You may get a little upset by his remark, but he just wants you to look out for yourself also and think of yourself sometimes first. You are still a human and not a Demon so you can get hurt badly or die even and he wouldn't know what to do if something like that happened to you. He doubts that he could ever heal from that.

He wants you to stay safe, but you want to protect people like he does and he knows he can't change your mind about it... So he makes a humble request to Master to let him accompany you on your missions when he doesn't have any.

This means Gyomei doesn't have much free time, but every moment spent with you is even better than those moments alone in his manor. He loves to hear how you describe things to him and how you laugh at the silliest things.

A day doesn't pass when Gyomei doesn't thank God for lowering you on Earth. He loves you that much and wants to spend as much time with you as possible.

[soylent-crocodile]

Aegisite (Race)

(Zaara by ITBluebeadTI)

(This is mostly an original race, as opposed to a straight conversion, but it does take inspiration; specifically, from Antonio Demico's very interesting Aasimar rules, where they are redefined as Guardian Angels. If you haven't heard of Pointy Hat, it's a youtube channel where he evaluates elements of DnD 5e and provides his own homebrew fix. I don't agree with all of his perspectives, but they're always interesting and serve as good food for thought for another homebrewer.)

As the different planes of existence overlap with the material plane and its inhabitants come into contacts with mortals, native outsiders are born. Most of these come from the elemental planes, or from the celestial or fiendish planes; the Dimension of Time, however, rarely makes contact with the material plane. But not never.

Aegisites are a type of native outsider born from contact with the Dimension of Time. They are born with a destiny; to protect, with their life, another intelligent being. Knowledge of this charge, and the knowledge of their duty, are part of an aegisite's mind from birth, although they may not understand it until older. Aegisites are almost always born in relative proximity, a close age, and to a similar race to their charge. The way this charge is decided is unknown, but those protected by an aegisite tend to become historically important, whether through strength, politics, or thought. This is not always the case, though, and some aegisites spend their lives protecting a perfectly mundane and forgettable mortal.

The nature of the bond between aegisite and charge is unknown; it is suspected that fate convenes to bring them together, but some aegisites rebel against this destiny. Others embrace it, and many fall in love with their charge, although questions of choice and fate do arise. There are rumors that those who avoid protecting their charge are fated to suffer, destiny punishing them for their refusal, but this is not a certainty, and it is one some aegisites are willing to risk. What is known, however, is that once an aegisite's charge dies, the aegisite is soon to follow.

Physically, aegisites are united by clouded white eyes that resemble cataracts, although they can generally see just as well as mortals. Other than that, aegisites resemble whatever race they are born from.

Ability Scores: Aegisites get +2 to Constitution and Wisdom Type: Aegisites are Outsiders with the Native subtype. Size: Aegisites are typically medium, getting no size modifiers. Languages: Aegisites begin play knowing Common or the language of the race they are born to. Aegisites with high intelligence can choose from Common, Draconic, Celestial, Sylvan, and Elven. Charge: Aegisities, when born, have a specific being chosen as a charge. When using the Aid Another action to aid their charge, they get a +2 racial bonus. Swift Aid: Aegisites natural urge to protect lets them help others almost as fast as they can think. They can use the Aid Another action to aid in combat as a swift action. Weapon Proficiency: Aegisites are proficient with light and heavy shields. Heartbeat: Aegisites with Charisma 11 or higher gain Status and Stabilize as spell-like abilities useable 3/day,

[cozzzynook]

Part 2

(For the rest of this, I am not sure how it fits into your timeline?)

The only reason the enforcer left after three cycles was because he was part of the escort taking the Senate body to Kaon for an emergency session. That new terrorist group running around - the decepticons, they called themselves? - had just been captured in masse... Including their leader.

The enforcer left, but only after he threatened Perceptor a bit more. It's obvious the enforcer planned to take over his life unless Perceptor could somehow stop him.

Perceptor was already in the process of fleeing for his life and that of his sparkling's when he heard the news... The wonderful, incredible, awful news.

It had been a trap. The decepticons had lured the Senate to Kaon and proceeded to mass murder them. The casualties included the enforcer that had been blackmailing him. The good news ended there. Now they were on the brink of a civil war.

I haven't seen the original post where anon inspired you with the beauty of carrier Perceptor and his sparkling Hot Rod, but I have noticed that Perceptor rarely has a partner/conjunx in your stories where he is raising Hot Rod (hence the characterization of Hot Rod's "sire"), and that tank carriers are not welcome in society, but spark carriers (? I think that is the term?) are.

I like to think that spark carrying was a new form of reproduction they designed during the Great War when the Hot Spots went cold and with so many tank carriers either dead or hiding. Perceptor was probably part of the team that designed the spark carrying system while still hiding his own sparkling tank.

Part of it was the abuse he had suffered and witnessed - another part of it was wanting to protect Hot Rod. The official story was that Perceptor had adopted Hot Rod from one of the last fertile Hot Spots before they went cold and that was why he disappeared during part of the civil war and then reappeared at the beginning of the Great War with a bitlet on his hip.

If anyone found out he was a tank carrier, it wouldn't take much to figure out that that story was false. Once Hot Rod was outted as his sparkling, everyone would know he was a tank carrier as well. Perceptor didn't want that kind of life for him.

There was still great prejudice against tank carriers. Some people believed that there wouldn't have been a Great War if tank carriers didn't exist (it was rumored that Megatron had been Tank-forged; Megatron had also been very outspoken about tank carrier rights) and others believed that tank carriers were created by Primus to be bred by those with perfect functions. Even surrounded by friends and loved ones, Perceptor urged Hot Rod to protect himself and not reveal his internal components to anyone - not unless it was a life or death situation.

Growing up with an overprotective carrier, Hot Rod kind of internalized some of Perceptor's fear and made sure to keep his plates shut, even when interfacing with lovers. There were very few mecha who knew about his status.

(End)

You are a genius and i love your brain so much 😭

[mamajankyy]

IN TODAYS ADVENTURES OF SHARK BOY AND WARRIOR GIRL:

Summary: Attuma is ill and Okoye is there to aid him back to health.

Word count: 1.4k

Read here on ao3

Okoye’s loyalty to those she loves is immovable, impenetrable, and unwavering; in short, she doesn’t quit. A life devoted to battle and protecting shaped her into the impeccable warrior she is now. Stripping of title or stature would never change that. She had fought countless fights against countless foes that ranged in species and color. There was one fight that had her considering waving her white flag and rewriting everything she knew to be true about herself.

Caring for an ill man. A massive, blue, bullheaded, shark tooth-adorned man-child baby.

A lot of the traits he took on while ill were ones he possessed regularly, but it was as if they were magnified and multiplied ten times over. Clingy, touchy, cocky, smothering, and needy all in all a nuisance to Okoye, especially when she’s trying to be of assistance. She may think it, but she would never voice her feelings about sick Tuma.

A sewage problem and a forgetful Attuma did not make a good combination. The city Okoye lived in had backed-up pipes and everyone in the area was urged not to use tap water until further notice. Okoye made sure to inform Attuma of this so he’d use filtered water to refill his rebreathers when necessary. She even went so far as to leave some bottles out for him. Attuma did not heed her warnings and now he was suffering the consequences. A nasty stomach bug and an insane fever morphed him into a being she’d never expect from Attuma.

Now here they were in their very large bathroom. Attuma sprawled out in their massive spa-sized tub. It may as well have been an indoor pool, but Okoye felt the size was perfect for her Shark. She was sitting on the edge of the tub dabbing his forehead with a wet washcloth. Doing whatever to help quell his aches really.

“I do not get sick” He protested. It’d been three days of the same weightless declarations.

How Okoye had managed not to blow a fuse? She was unsure.

“Then explain the profuse sweating and how you struggle to keep something as meager as vegetable broth down. Hm?” Okoye retorted as she swatted his wandering hands to continue her task of drenching him in cooled water. She tilted his head upwards to wipe beads of, said sweat, before they dropped; and then kissed the newly dry spot.

“Perspiration is to be expected when one is in close contact with the sun, no?” Attuma’s face twisted slightly as he talked through another gut-twisting pain, trying his very best to convince her he was fine. “Come join me in K’iino, the water’s excellent” He smiled at her and moved his hand to rest on her knee, just below the hem of her dress. His thumbs kneaded her smooth skin, and since she hadn’t removed his hands yet, he tested his luck moving his ministrations further up north.

She hadn’t missed the flash of discomfort on his face, so she allowed his hands to wander up her dress for a few moments, just to see just how convincing he thought he really was. She plucked them away once they were dangerously close to the apex of her thighs.

Who did he think he was fooling?

Okoye kissed her teeth and stepped just out of his reach. “Had you used the head that faces the sky instead of the one that cowers beneath your loincloth you would not be in the tub looking like a sweaty plum.” Her voice was soft, almost sweet, but there was still that tinge of annoyance. She didn’t feel right snapping at him completely, especially when he was trying very hard to downplay his true feelings; but she still made sure to get her point across.

It was true, due to his ill state and constant perspiration he had taken on a purplish hue.

“It does not cower! My bearings are proud, as am I. Come here and I will make you proud as we-“His offer was cut short by another wave of stomach pain.

It was rare for the Talokanil to be struck ill. The herb that was welded into their DNA rendered them immune to many illnesses. Attuma’s insides were quite literally battling to expel all of the foreign bacteria that’d infiltrated his systems. As respected of a General as he was, he was sure that this was a battle he wouldn’t victor. This may as well have been his Endgame..no Thanos.

“Oh, my love” Okoye cooed as she resumed her spot beside him. She leaned over enough to rub his stomach in an attempt to soothe him. The close proximity allowed her to lay a few kisses along the side of his head and she did so. That slightly annoyed tone she had before was now reduced to a much more loving and syrupy one. She found herself switching between the two very often with Attuma, especially now.

The warrior was losing her battle as well. Knowing the illness and pain Attuma was experiencing was all new to him tugged at her heart voraciously. It was hard to see her affectionate brute in this state. What may have been a mere stomach virus to any surface dweller was doing a number on her beloved husband.

When she first noticed something was off with Attuma she practically dragged him to Shuri for testing. His symptoms weren’t severe due to his enhanced DNA, but lack of appetite was not something Okoye was going to let slide. Attuma thought it was silly but the thought of being an added stress to his love was bigger than his protesting. Shuri ran plenty of tests and once she found it was from the water the only aid she’d been able to give was the virus simply had to run its course. If the General wasn’t back to himself by the end of the week Shuri told them to come back to the lab.

Okoye tried to get Attuma to go back to Talokan until he felt better, she figured being out of the water didn’t make sense when he could be home with his healers. Of course, Attuma refused. Shuri planted the seed of Okoye taking care of him until he was better and a much more lewd image had taken root in his mind. He was thinking more along the lines of those sexy maid costumes M’Baku showed him once before. Those fantasies were quickly shelved once the stomach griping started.

True to her word, Okoye had been by his side without faltering. Though she nearly had to pull her spear on him just to get him to rest for more than 10 minutes, she took the task with stride. She made him light meals that wouldn’t upset his stomach too much, rubbed and massaged his stomach until he fell asleep in her arms, braided his hair so it wouldn’t be a tangled mess, and did whatever else she could think of to bring him any form of reprieve.

“K’iino… I’m sure I will be immediately healed if you just joined me. I will not turn my mind loose and get handsy. I promise” Okoye couldn’t help the snort that slipped due to Attuma returning the phrases she often used against him.

Her heart ached for him, and she found herself tossing her dress somewhere unknown and climbing into the water with him. She settled in behind him and he sunk so that his head rested on her chest. The position was awkward given the setting, but she was just thankful she’d gotten a big enough tub where they could both fit comfortably. Especially since she discovered Attuma liked to be the little spoon when he was sick.

Cuddling was always high on his list of Okoye related favorites. He loved laying on her chest and letting her heart’s rhythm play in his ears. He also loved being engulfed by her scent, which never failed to quiet any anxieties he may have. She was essential in his healing as well as his general well-being.

Okoye pressed a few kisses to his head before she began massaging his scalp. They stayed like that until Attuma convinced her he was okay to lay in their bed. She made quick work of cleaning the bathroom and discarding her soaked undergarments. When she finally entered their bedroom she found him curled up with one of her pillows in the center of their bed asleep. She cut on the humidifiers and climbed into bed. Once she was comfortable behind him, she draped her arm across his waist and began rubbing large circles until she joined him in a deep slumber.

Attuma be like.

[spyridonya]

OMG I AM SO CURIOUS!!!

Kadee:

Greed 10, Wrath 5, Lust 4

Zo:

Wrath 1, Envy 1 😳, Lust 5 🤭

seven deadly sins headcanon

thank you for sending this, teddy! all of this is is safe for innocent new wotr players!

Kadira

Greed 10) Would your muse steal anything?

As a child, this was less to do with morals and she knowing that she stuck out like a sore thumb. It would be incredibly hard to get anything when you're bright red and everyone around you is not. As she grows older, there's a moral complexity to how she views stealing. There are a lot of desperate people out there and she herself isn't above in stealing something if it will help the Crusade and the person she steals from has the resources to survive. She's also forgiving for that with others. She's not not keen on people who steal for fun - which is honestly a rarity. Even organizational crime is based on the concept that the government will not protect or provide for it's weakest links.

Wrath 5) What, if anything, provokes your muse to violence

I don't want to go into too many spoilers, but those who worship Shelyn attempt to avoid violence and try to defend. For the most part, Kadira follows this and if asked for another chance, she will not resort to violence.

However, there are times when dealing with demons and cultists that Kadira is moved to fury, notably so towards the end of the game when it comes to those she cares about.

Lust 4) What sex-related words turn your muse on? what words make them cringe?

Kadira doesn't have words that will turn her on quickly in an independent context. 'Play' registers as nothing until she hears the tone of it and the voice quality. Most sensual words, conventional dirty words like 'cock, pussy', and praise melts Kadira into a puddle of goo and encourages her to do or endure so much.

However, there are so many words that will make her cringe and turn her drier than the Gobi. Moist, regardless fo tone, will make her cringe during a sexual context. Most childish terms used in a attempt to be serious-sexy is a turn off for her. Childish terms in means of being playful/funny and sexy has a lot more leeway.

Zophus

Wrath 1) does your muse like to get revenge on those they feel have wronged them?

The demon that destroyed his home and killed his mother in an arson fire is still unknown to Zophus. He's looked, he's looked so hard. That was the reason why he became a Planeswalker for the Harmounium, he wanted to get the knowledge and possibly find the demon who ruined everything. He hasn't found them yet, and he doesn't know how to truly get his revenge.

Envy 1) does your muse get jealous easily, or does it take a lot for them to feel it?

While he doesn't get jealous over titles or material things, Zophus quietly suffers his jealousy in regars to romance. It's not the only reason why he doesn't try to get into long term relationships, but is a factor of some importance. The best way he deals with this, notably in a polyam situation, is putting himself in the 'Secondary' mentality.

Lust 5) does your muse masturbate? if so, how often, and how do they get themselves off? if not, why not?

He masturbates, though the habit is dictated to his environment. He didn't masturbate often when he was in the Barracks in Sigil, because it was communal living. When the urge got him, Zophus had to find a secret place to relieve himself and had little pleasure out of it. While traveling, Zophus engages with masturbation far more often from several times to daily, because he doesn't have to hide it and he can be as sensual to himself as he wants. During his time on the road with the tadpole, he rarely masturbated due to stress and slightly fearing people would read his mind.