#inane headcanons

[taperwolf]

Actually, you know how Ai Miyashita loves her grandmother's nukazuke pickles so much? Another grandma making pickles came up in a manga I was reading recently...

Headcanon incoming: Mama Miyashita is Yaku's second child, who went into the restaurant business instead of pharmaceutical research.

(We've never seen any of Ai's actual family members, though Grandma spoke from off-panel in the Tapestry Comic.)

(It's also unclear how long Yaku has been locked in her rejuvenated body. Things she's said imply that she is still aging, just from being a child again, and that therefore the Failed Immortality Drug is a pretty recent development, but...)

[drawingoddessy]

More Taco post-canon heacanons!

This one is probably not as good as the first but I’m just yapping about my silly lil British Taco

Getting deleted sucked but she would still rate the time she cracked to death as one of her worst memories (out of many, she’s traumatized as hell)

She’s never really had- normal food. So Fan would bring out pizza or something and she would look at it confused.

She hates cookies bc it reminds her of Mephone

She has nightmares of Pickle being deleted, or just a lot of nightmares in general

Is a HEATHEN and would eat burnt food, food that dropped on the ground, expired food. Basically food in any condition bc she’s used to having to hoard and scavenge food. Soap hates her for this

Soap just doesn’t like Tacos forest-rat self bc of her unclean habits

Mic would constantly check on her bc she knows she’s unstable LOL

Lightbulb would eat sticks in front of her and she’d be like “THAT COULDVE BEEN FOOD THIS ENTIRE TIME!????”

Taco is so much of a girl failure she would try to make cookies. And catch fire. Only her, not anything else

Balloon and Taco bond about being homeless and hated

Balloon becomes another one of her safety nets in the hotel bc he out of all people would understand her the most

Her leaves and tomato’s are linked to her health, so they start off really small, but grow like- 2x because she’s finally gotten nourishment

[crushribbons]

i really need more friends i can just text like “what flavor vape does seb sallow carry” because @wedonthaveawhile has to like “work” during the day and she’s probably one more bad message away from blocking 🩷

[short-and-ugly]

[some-pers0n]

Every once in a while I think about the ship I've been obsessed over for close to two years now and feel like I'm ascending to another plane of reality. Like sometimes you just encounter a ship that hits every single mark and is perfect in every regard and you're left stunned how something like that can even exist

[kind-of-a-shitty-wizard]

drops this and bolts

[fandumb-whimsey]

Interesting to note that despite both Scarecrow and Aaron Cash being stated to be 6' in their bios, their character models in Arkham Knight imply otherwise.

Scarecrow was slouching the entirety of the game which makes him seem like he's only 6', but I think if he actually stood up straight he'd gain a good 2-3 extra inches. The bio is lying!!

Another note: damn, Crane has some broad shoulders. I know the crusty coat adds a little bulk but still.

[xxghost-zombie-jesus]

HEY I HEARD SOMEONE SAY "ASK ME ABOUT BEETLELANDS" OVER HERE, DO YOU HAVE ANY HEADCANONS ABOUT THEM TO SHARE??

DO I HAVE ANY HEADCANONS? DO I HAVE ANY HEADCANONS ?! YOU BET YOUR ASS I DO!

And I'll do you one better! I'm currently slowly working on a Beetlelands fic based off the song "Your Stupid Face" by Kaden MacKay. Eventually I'll finish and post it, but I think you deserve an excerpt.

Barbara and Adam shared a look, having one of their silent conversations, and Beetlejuice was left wondering once again how the hell they did that. They came to some conclusion or understanding or something because both gave a decisive nod. "Maitlands 2.0?" Barbara asked. "Maitlands 2.0," Adam echoed, giving her an encouraging smile. "Wh-" Beetlejuice went to ask again, but Barbara leaned up and pressed her lips to him, stunning him so thoroughly that he froze. Completely. His eyes were wide, breath withering in his chest, and his hands shook just the slightest amount at how tense he was. Barbara pressed slightly harder against his lips, which were firmly closed in his confusion-fueled panic. This was is, this was them fucking him over with kindness and the false pretense of love before they stabbed him in the back, and threw him out on his ass. Like Lydia, and his Ma, and everyone before, every single person before in his long undead-dead not-life. No, no. He was being so stupid, this meant something. This meant something. Something good? No, no, something great. Barbara went to pull away and he moved without thinking, chasing her lips and he slowly, hesitantly, brought his hand up to cup the back of her neck, hyper-aware of his claws resting against her delicate skin. He gently played with the hair at the nape of her neck, noting that, yes, it was as soft as he had always thought. Barbara laughed against his mouth and deepened the kiss oh-so-slightly, thumb still brushing over his cheekbones. She nipped his lip and he opened obediently, allowing her to take the lead, but she simply continued to nibble his lip. She pulled away and he made an involuntary noise in his throat, opening his eyes which he hadn't realized he closed. Barbara stepped away and Adam took her spot. Slower than she had, he leaned in and wrapped his arms around Beetlejuice's shoulders, and he, too, kissed Beetlejuice. Once again all his thoughts flatlined as Beetlejuice took a moment to respond, though much quicker than with Barbara. He melted against Adam's chest, hands hovering awkwardly over his sides, fingers curled slightly. Adam ran a hand though Beetlejuice's hair and he purred into the kiss, and oh, he had never made that noise before. Finally he let his hands wrap around Adam's waist, and grip at the fabric of his shirt as he pushed closer, torn between continuing the kiss or pressing back into Adam's hand in his hair, but Adam made the decision for him, pulling his head forward ever-so-slightly and opening his mouth. Beetlejuice responded in kind, and totally didn't shiver slightly when Adam pushed his tongue inside of his mouth. Finally Adam, too, pulled back, though he stayed close enough to keep a hand in Beetlejuice's hair. Despite being probably the tamest kisses he had ever had the pleasure of having–lacking the desperate push of two people who simply let drug-borne lust take over in a desperate bid to get both of their rocks off as quickly as possible, and absolutely no blood left in its wake–it left him flushed and breathless, shoulders heaving as he stared at the couple in front of him. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to get his thoughts to form into words, but all he could utter was, "woah." Barbara giggled and covered her mouth. "Is that a good 'woah'?" Beetlejuice could only nod, a lopsided, lovestruck grin on his face.

Ehehe.

As for headcanons, I feel like it's gonna be reaaaal slowburn. I'm talking like. Months before the Maitlands are even comfortable enough to call Beej a friend, let alone start having a crush on him.

When he first comes back it's...awkward. They can tell he's genuinely remorseful for what he did, but that doesn't make it okay. That doesn't excuse his behavior. Not even just the threatening to murder and fake exorcism stuff, either. The groping and kissing and inappropriate comments were all way too far.

He doesn't get that, so what's a little kissing and ass slapping between friends? Or a dirty comment here and there? They have to have a conversation with him about how, no, people don't act like that. They don't know about demons, or their etiquette, but humans shouldn't act like that. and it takes a while, but it finally clicks for him and he realizes Oh. He was the asshole. They genuinely didn't like it. He stops pretty quickly after that, with some slip ups that he has to be warned about.

He goes back to teaching them how to be ghosts. That isn't something that he needs to convince the Maitlands on, in fact, it's their idea, pretty quickly. Like, sure, they still aren't comfortable around him but he does know his shit. And before everything went to hell in a handbasket before, the scaring lesson was fun! And there's so much they don't know.

Like how to eat, or teleport, or conjure stuff. And do all ghosts have a pocket dimensions or is that a demon thing? And what about the clones? There's a lot they don't know and want to understand, and, for a long time, these lessons are the only time they're alone together. And they aren't professional, not by a long shot, you have three goofballs, one of which couldn't be serious if his not-life depended on it, but its far from how things were before.

and its during lessons like this, and conversations they have with beej at dinner or during family night, or even when he comes to them of his own accord needing their help or with something for them that they start to learn about beej. and he about them.

and they start to grow closer, you know? they go from acquaintances to family members to friends, and soon they find that yes. he actually did change, for the better. or maybe this is how he always is and something was just Up when they first met him. either way, they much prefer this beetlejuice to the maniac, angry, desperate one before.

they spend more time together alone, usually when lydia isn't around or beetlejuice gets in trouble annoying delia or charles, and after months and months of living together and becoming friends the maitlands realize that. oh. they like him. both of them. and they don't know how to breech the subject because they don't want to make things awkward, or scare him off, so they just. don't say anything.

at this point they have a FWB arrangement going on, because, well, they have to admit, all of beej's primping and preening about his sex life had gotten them curious, and they wanted to know if he could put his money where his mouth was. and it turned out he could.

and then beej is the one to come to them because he realized that his silly little infatuation with the two ghosts had bloomed into a full blown crush. and he had to tell them or he'd explode or have to run away. what was the worst that could happen? oh yeah that was bad, but unlikely.

so he tells them, and they reciprocate, and start dating. things aren't smooth, its awkward and they have their fair share of problems that include beej getting scared and fucking off for a little bit until he's dragged back and forced to talk about his feelings, but in the end it works out great.

as for general headcanons:

Beetlejuice calls Barbara and Adam all manner of nicknames, but tends to stick with Sexy and Babs most often.

Adam calls beej Bug, Buggy, and Bugsy. Barbara calls him Beet, Beebles, and Juicy. They both call him Love-bug, Ladybug, and Junebug.

They keep their separate rooms, Beej likes to have his own space after all, but he sleeps with them more often than not, and tends to be in the middle. It works out because he's usually very warm and the Maitlands can actually feel it.

Also he's a huge cuddler and likes to drape himself across their laps, even when they're busy.

Adam likes to play with Beetlejuice's hair, it's surprisingly soft despite it sticking up every-which-way, and it always makes the demon purr which Adam thinks is The cutest thing.

Barbara loves Beej's wyrm form, especially when he's small, and its only in this form that puppydog eyes work on her. She's immune at any other point.

Beetlejuice thinks Adam's the better cuddler, but Barbara is better to lay on. He will never say this out loud. He does constantly complain about Barbara's cold ass feet though.

His love languages are gift-giving, acts of service, and quality time. Oh and touch.

On the other hand he is bad at words of affirmation. Like, he could not give someone a compliment in a not back-handed, rude, or plain incomprehensible way if his not-life depended on it.

In the same vein his accepted ones are words of affirmation, quality time, and touch. He hates when people do things for him because he can't understand the concept of people just wanting to do something to be nice vs them expecting something in return.

Adam helps Beetlejuice deal with some of the more negative quirks of his autism (aka gives him Healthy coping methods). This one is bc I hc Beej, Adam, and Lyds are all autistic ;3c

Beetlejuice helps Adam be more unapologetically autistic and not mask it so much. No one here is gonna judge, after all.

Barbara helps Beetlejuice when he has nightmares, and in return he'll stay awake with her when she's too upset to sleep. He thinks he's very bad at being comforting but he can be a good listener, surprisingly, and actually can have some good advice! also he's a great cuddler. he gives a mean hug. real bear hug, picks her up and swings her around a bit kind of hug that always makes her laugh.

Beetlejuice helps Adam and Babs withs the model. Babs is the one who carves all the model buildings and Adam paints them. Beetlejuice since he can leave the house makes sure its 100% accurate and keeps them up to date.

He also likes to get Barbara new plants for her attic garden. So many so that it ends up bleeding out onto the roof.

[wileywere]

apocalypse AU original cast doodles

for like my weird next-gen bad timeline thing I never named

they’re just concept sketches tho so like. they *will* probably be changed at somet point

anywho

enjoy I guess :]

[gctchell]

Describe a favorite possession of yours without actually saying what it is. (any muse!)

"It'sss.." She glances over at it, proudly in its display.

"Small. It can fit in the palm of my hand with its size. It's a.. gift, given to me by one of my daughters." Off-handedly, but nonetheless. "It's monochromatic and fuzzy, has a pair of small round ears upon its head. I spend a lot of money on clothing and furniture for it and do not regret it.. It makes me happy." Sparkles joy. "It's always with me in my office."

[skylertheminish]

Did this for science.

Zander is an idiot, Ceru will bap you to death, Arma can draw and Chip has baggage.

[calmlythrilling]

Somewhat, sort of, Will. Anyway, you will have to stop me from eating them straight from the jar, Shy.

[kymsys]

'It was late spring, the first time all year that the sunshine had any real strength behind it. Satoru was wittering on about something inane as always — Tentomon or something equally ridiculous.

There was nothing special about the moment. Not really. Except for the fact that Satoru had shrugged off his jacket in the heat. It was draped around his shoulders just so, exposing the long column of his throat, pale after a long winter. Really, there was nothing special about the moment. But when Suguru looked at the boy silhouetted against the spring sky, bright and blue and boundless and beautiful — just like his eyes, Suguru thought — his heart skipped a beat all the same. With all the sight afforded to him, Satoru never missed a thing. So it was risky, what Suguru did. Later, when he was looking at his new phone wallpaper under the cover of darkness, grinning like an idiot, he'd wonder how he ever got away with it. Yet, if Suguru's yearning to capture that perfectly ordinary moment forever was stronger than all reason, perhaps it was stronger than the Six Eyes, too. After all, not even Satoru could stop time.' - by my beloved @fushiglow ♥

(( also glo says: FUN FACT! Tentomon is voiced by Suguru's VA — ergo it's Satoru's favourite Digimon, obviously )) ---------------------------------------------------------

freshly added headcanons: • gojo at some point randomly barged into sugurus room and put glowy stickers all over his ceiling • suguru has gojo as his phone wallpaper, but keeps it a secret • suguru is a hamasaki ayumi fan • the cinnamoroll phone charm is from gojo who spent almost an eternity getting that out of a gatcha machine for him • they were happy

[3d-wifey]

This is such a niche ask, but I saw that you do Mortal Kombat. Can I ask for some flirty intro dialogue? You know like the conversation the characters have b4 the fight? But like with a Goddess!reader who's basically Hecate? like a Nyx/Hecate fusion if that makes sense. Oh and can you do what some of her taunts would be? I feel like those and her fatalities would be illusion and tarot based :)))

Flirty Intro Dialogue

Pairings: Johnny Cage x Reader; Noob Saibot x Reader; Erron Black x Reader; Dark Raiden x Reader; Cassie Cage x Reader; Shang Tsung x Reader

A/N: (Back to using gifs for headcanons). This is just for the MK 11 timeline. Once MK 1 comes out, I'll do new ones. Had to do a little research fan fiction-wise for this one, but I got a good amount out (plus some taunts the reader would say during the fight). I put a lot of thought into the reader's backstory in the MK universe, even though it'll never be used lol. Please, feel free to request more of these characters or some intros for different characters. Maybe even request a one-shot? Who knows ;)

Behind the Scenes: You know how when Erron Black shows up in the intro, he's looking at a Wanted poster of his opponent? I feel like Goddess!reader has something like that where she's looking at a tarot card that's different for each character before it disappears into mist. Another opening is the reader strutting in shapeshifted into her opponent, before turning back. Her friendship fatality has her stirring a comically large witch's caldron and Noob Saibot pops out in a cloud of mist.

You: Jonathan Carlton

Johnny Cage: Sexy witch goddess.

You: I…Hmm.

-

You: I can feel the magic coursing through your veins. You are one of my Night children, Jonathan.

Johnny Cage: You don’t mean that literally, right? Because it would suck to have the hots for my mom.

You: (sighs)  And what a waste.

-

Johnny Cage: Somebody pinch me, I must be dreaming.

You: Do you dream of me often, Mortal?

Johnny Cage: Ohho, absolutely.

-

Johnny Cage: Somebody pinch me, I must be dreaming.

You: (sighs) How many times must you make that joke?

Johnny Cage: You know you love it!

-

Johnny Cage: So…what are my chances of getting you into my next movie?

You: I’ve told you. I have no desire to appear on your “big screen”.

Johnny Cage: I was thinking we’d make a different kind of movie.

-

Johnny Cage: Goddess of dreams, huh? Can I call you Sandman?

You: You may call me whatever you please, dear mortal.

Johnny Cage: Oh, you do not wanna give me that kind of power.

-

Johnny Cage: Heard you and Shinnok had a thing.

You: A…thing?

Johnny Cage: You two boned! Get it? Cuz he’s a skeleton.

-

Johnny Cage: Tarot, huh? Card tricks are cool and all, but do you got any other witchy gimmicks?

You: I'm particularly fond of palm reading.

Johnny Cage: ...So what I'm hearing is, you're good with your hands?

-

Johnny Cage: You, Fujin, and Raiden go way back, huh?

You: Since the dawn of time.

Johnny Cage: (grimace) Yeesh, they've been friend zoned that long?

-

Johnny Cage: Not so fast, Hermonie.

You: Must you always spout such inane drivel?

Johnny Cage: Someone's been using their word-a-day calendar!

-

Johnny Cage: I've never met a non-evil Eldar God.

You: Evil is quite subjective.

Johnny Cage: I'll remember that next time I'm kicking one's ass.

Noob Saibot: My Goddess.

You: Bi-Han.

Noob Saibot: The shadows cling to your presence. 

-

Noob Saibot: Many have wanted me to yield to their command.

You: Oh?

Noob Saibot: Only you have succeeded, My Goddess.

-

You: You are not touched by the Night, dear Bi-Han. You are shrouded in it.

Noob Saibot: What better way to show that I belong to you?

You: It certainly seems that way, doesn’t it?

-

Noob Saibot: The shadows whisper your name.

You: (smiles) What do they say about me?

Noob Saibot: That your beauty is combated by no other. They speak only the truth for their Goddess.

-

You: You have been a steadfast worshiper, Bi-Han. How shall I reward your loyalty?

Noob Saibot: I only ask for one thing: to be your consort.

You: Hmm. That could be arranged.

-

Noob Saibot: I do not want you to be upset with me, but I will not take back what I said.

You: Your brother cares for you, Bi-Han.

Noob Saibot: Yet, here we are.

-

You: Why must we fight?

Noob Saibot: I wish to prove to you my might, My Goddess.

You: Oh, dear wraith. For you, my love is freely given. You have already earned it.

-

Noob Saibot: You're different than the other Eldar Gods. You...care.

You: Do you think me weak?

Noob Saibot: Never.

-

You: Care to spar?

Noob Saibot: I'd be honored.

You: Then don't take it personally when I beat you.

-

Noob Saibot: The shadows crave your touch.

You: Only the shadows?

Noob Saibot: I'll always long for you, My Goddess.

-

You: Do you fear me, dear Bi-Han?

Noob Saibot: I respect you.

You: (sigh) That wasn't a no.

Erron Black: You've got quite the pretty penny on your head.

You: Are you here to kill me then, Erron Black?

Erron Black: With a face like that, I wouldn’t dream of it.

-

Erron Black: You got any love spells up your sleeve, witchy? I swear ’m good for it.

You: Love is not something to take lightly. Who do you have in mind?

Erron Black: (smirks)  Look in a mirror, darlin’. 

-

Erron Black: You the Goddess of lust, by any chance?

You: That is not a purpose I was created to serve.

Erron Black: Pity. You’d certainly suit it.

-

Erron Black: You had something to ask me, beautiful?

You: Yes. What is “reverse cowgirl”?

Erron Black: (smirks) How ‘bout I show you the ins and outs after this?

-

Erron Black: ’M not usually one for marriage, darlin’.

You: Neither am I.

Erron Black: I don’t have to be the only one, as long as I’m your favorite.

-

Erron Black: You ever find out why Shinnok offed you?

You: I believe he wanted to turn me into his revenant bride. He became rather desperate after I declined his proposal.

Erron Black: (chuckle) Well, I guess I can’t blame the guy.

-

Erron Black: Why don’t you take a peek into ol’ Erron’s dreams? Swear you won’t be disappointed.

You: I’ve seen your dreams. I must say, you give me very generous proportions.

Erron Black: Then you must know I’m a very generous lover.

-

Erron Black: I've struck gold

You: How so?

Erron Black: Well, you're here, ain'tcha?

-

Erron Black: You cast a spell on me, Goddess?

You: I have not, Erron Black.

Erron Black: Do you want to?

-

Erron Black: How 'bout you and I see where the night takes us?

You: Do you think you can keep up?

Erron Black: Trust me. I may be fast on the quick draw, but I don't shoot quick.

-

Erron Black: You've got the magic touch.

You: A good deal of my powers flow through my hands.

Erron Black: I want 'em on me.

You: I’ve heard of how you…disposed of Shinnok.

Dark Raiden: After what he did to you, after how I mourned, I would behead him a hundred times over.

You: It isn’t judgment you sense in my voice. I would have killed him myself if you hadn’t beat me to it.

-

You: Do you still desire me, even as you are now?

Dark Raiden: If you need to ask, then I have failed to show you my devotion.

You: Hmph.

-

Dark Raiden: Will you abandon me too, my love?

You: It is not in my nature.

Dark Raiden: They do not deserve your blessings.

-

Dark Raiden: How have you…How are you here?

You: I sensed my presence was needed and returned to my corporal form just in time to be put in Kronika's void.

Dark Raiden: You could not sense how much I needed you, how much I mourned?

-

You: We are in such uncertain times, my vision is clouded.

Dark Raiden: I’m sorry for the part I play in your duress, my love.

You: You are only doing your duty. It’s how you’re going about it that leaves me weary.

-

Dark Raiden: How can you find such beauty in their shortcomings?

You: The Night welcomes all into her shadowed embrace.

Dark Raiden: You are wasted on them!

-

Dark Raiden: I was so lost without your guidance.

You: When I died?

Dark Raiden: When you were taken from me!

-

Dark Radien: How did Shinnok do it?

You: He lied to me and attacked me when I let my guard down.

Dark Raiden: (growls) If I could, I would bring him back to enact justice upon him once more.

-

You: I have but one wish.

Dark Raiden: Anything.

You: I wish for you to come back to me.

-

You: Is it true? What you've done?

Dark Radien: It was the only way.

You: You have lost yourself.

-

You: We've never fought before, have we?

Dark Radien: We never needed to for me to know you're the stronger between us.

You: Flattery will not save you.

Cassie Cage: You know, I think I’m finally understanding why Raiden lost his marbles.

You: How so?

Cassie Cage: I think I’d lose my shit too if someone like you was taken from me.

-

Cassie Cage: Are you a good witch or a bad witch?

You: I’m…afraid I do not understand.

Cassie Cage: Oh, you have got to let me take you on a movie date.

-

Cassie Cage: Who’s your favorite: Fujin or Raiden? Come on. You can tell me.

You: I’m a Goddess. Why would I limit myself to one lover?

Cassie Cage: You dirty girl.

-

Cassie Cage: What are you the Goddess of again?

You: (hesitates) …It would be easier to list what I am not the Goddess of.

Cassie Cage: (whistles) And I thought my parents expected a lot of me.

-

Cassie Cage: Come on, just one kiss!

You: I am older than you could possibly imagine.

Cassie Cage: An older woman. What’s not to love?

-

Cassie Cage: I heard you died. So, how are you standing here in all your godly beauty?

You: I have much power over death and the comings and goings of the Underworld. My soul simply dispersed there.

Cassie Cage: Yep. That’ll do it.

-

Cassie Cage: So…You didn’t happen to see that one dream, did you?

You: I’ve seen all your dreams, Cassandra. And I’m flattered.

Cassie Cage: (clears throat) …Right.

-

Cassie Cage: It’s a full moon

You: She calls to me and all who feel her light.

Cassie Cage:…You’re not gonna turn into a werewolf, are you?

-

Cassie Cage: You gonna turn me into a frog, Goddess?

You: It’s a possibility.

Cassie Cage: (shrugs) As long as you change me back with a kiss.

-

Cassie Cage: Heard you hung out with Jacqui.

You: Yes, though she didn’t mention you at all.

Cassie Cage: She is the worst wing woman.

-

You: You’ve come to my crossroads. Do you need my guidance?

Cassie Cage: Just wondering if you could teach me a trick or two.

You: So it’s my protection you seek.

Shang Tsung: Your beauty entices me

You: My power entices you.

Shang Tsung: Two things can be true at once.

-

Shang Tsung: Soon, you shall be my bride.

You: You cannot tie down a Goddess; you cannot tie down the Night.

Shang Tsung: I can try.

-

Shang Tsung: Do my powers impress you, Goddess of magic?

You: They certainly intrigue me, Sorcerer.

Shang Tsung: Allow me to give you a closer look.

-

Shang Tsung: Every time I invoke my magic, I do so in your name.

You: Your loyalty changes with the moon’s phases.

Shang Tsung: I devote myself to you, my Goddess.

-

Shang Tsung: I want something more valuable than your soul.

You: Such as?

Shang Tsung: Your love.

-

Shang Tsung: You forgave Shinnok, but not I?

You: I did not forgive him. He killed me when I refused to be his bride.

Shang Tsung: I will succeed where he has failed.

-

Shang Tsung: I kneel at your altar, my Goddess.

You: You needn’t prostrate yourself before me.

Shang Tsung: It is never a hardship to be on my knees for you.

-

You: Do you fear me?

Shang Tsung: I’d be a fool not to.

You: Then why challenge me?

-

Shang Tsung: You have the godly brothers on quite a tight leash.

You: I demand no loyalty from them.

Shang Tsung: It’s doubtful that they stray far from you.

-

You: Kronika spared me in hopes of using my powers. When I refused, she cast me into the void.

Shang Tsung: We have been similarly wronged by her.

You: That is why we must aid Luai Kang in defeating her.

-

Shang Tsung: You are the last Eldar God.

You: Yes. And I shall help Luai Kang in his creation of the new timeline.

Shang Tsung: Then this will be goodbye for now.

Taunts

You: The Wheel of Fortune comes for us all. You: Your future is uncertain. You: You cannot hide from the Night’s embrace. You: Knell in repentance. You: Your path ends here. You: You are lost. You: It is simply an illusion. You: You challenge an Eldar God? You: Will you make an offering? You: You are forgiven. You: I will lead your spirit through the gates of the Netherrealm. You: You shall not pass. You: Are you seeing double? You: Allow me to guide you.

[sordidmusings]

do you think mihawk would go through the 7 stages of grief when he catches feelings for someone or would he be a self-aware king and just shrug and accept it?

On a scale from One to Death, how pained is Mihawk about falling in love?

Pairing: Mihawk x GN Reader

Form this took: non-bulleted headcanon!

Word Count: ~730

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Mihawk actually continually creates new stages of grief in his unmoving stance to Pretend Everything’s Fine.

He’s not in love with you, he just has every bit of info on your likes, dislikes, and stories tucked away in his memory for convenience. He didn’t even consciously decide to do that actually. It’s just a fluke or maybe it was because it’s all such easy info to remember; it’s certainly not because all that information has special importance. It’s most definitely not because you look at him with such joy and gratitude every time you realize that he’s remembered something about you. Nor is it how beautifully his heart aches when your face glows with appreciation and affection for him.

He’s helping you out because your skills are disappointing, not because he sees you as a being of boundless potential. It has nothing to do with the pride he finds in each stride you make, whether by his guiding or your own breakthroughs. Nothing at all to do with how, day by day, he finds it more precious to watch you grow than the beloved gardens surrounding his castle.

His restlessness and temper when you’re gone are only because he has to take over all the tasks you do at the castle. Of course he’s not happy having unnecessary things out back on his plate, it was so much better being able to hand off half of those so he has time for the things that are important. Like swordsmanship and your shared hours to end each day. He doesn’t miss you bugging him all of the time; he can take care of himself without your drop ins to bring him water and snacks, or calls that dinner’s ready, or excited recommendations for books he always ends up enjoying, or observations on all the inane things around you (he obviously sees everything and it’s not better sharing them and a present existence with you, nope), or the rare occasions you speak your worry for his dour and lonely life that cut right to the heart of him. Those are what he misses the absolute least; he’s used to being called cold and heartless and alone, he doesn’t need you saying it but worse - noticing the heartlessness is unfortunately a lie, that there’s been something raw and painful festering in him for years, kept far from where anyone can touch and exhausting him of life’s pretenses.

He has no hope that you could possibly help fix that (just as much as you’re a balm for that wound, closeness to you rips it wide open).

There will have to be some change to your routine dancing around each other for him to accept his feelings for you and become that self-aware king instead of the willfully-ignorant peasant. This could be a threat of you leaving, likely not in you giving him that ultimatum but in more gradual ways that circumstance usually does. Maybe you begin to get into your head that he’ll never have feelings for you, and in your acceptance of that you begin to seek other hearts to share. Maybe you run from the depths of your own emotions for him, slowly shifting your life to be less and less at the castle, seeking opportunities that will take you to further seas.

Or maybe life does throw you both a much more drastic cause for change - an explosive argument when you seek a new love, or you unloading all your worry for him and fears that he is heartless while he’s frozen stiff, or him knowing the deep fear of not having you in his life in any capacity when your life is almost taken. Regardless of the cause, once he does acknowledge his feelings, he will absolutely act on it. He is a man of drive and dedication after all.

Now Mihawk is a lucky son of a bitch because it is very likely that you don’t know for a fact he has any interest in you until the Cool and Confident stage kicks in. He’d be mortified if you ever found out how desperately he tried to patch the dam in him that barely kept his overflowing interest, affection, and adoration at bay.

I hope you do find out because that needs to be held over his head for the rest of his life and then some 👌🏻

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For my lil milestone celebration here 🤍 come ask!

Thank you for your question anon❣️ the phrasing had me cackling it was too good 💀 I hope you enjoyed!! Sending love and hugs

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Professor Miguel O’Hara x Reader Headcanons

Warnings: University Professor Miguel, Implications of Smut, Age Gap, Secret Relationship, Teacher’s Pet Reader, Academic Manipulation, Coercion, Abuse of Power, Miguel Abusing his Spider Abilities for Nefarious Purposes, Slight Yandere Miguel, Implied Obsession, Minor Spoilers for Miguel’s Backstory, Extra Yandere Headcanons, Forced Kissing, No Pronouns Used for Reader Except ‘You’.

Miguel knows it’s wrong to want you in the way he does. You’re his best and brightest student, after all — his magnum opus: his academic pride and joy.

Problem is, that appreciation for your work ethic and your eagerness to take heavy loads of work (and eventually heavy loads of other things) charmed him. Sure, he could label you asa kiss-ass, a teacher’s pet, a sycophant, but ever since the first day he met you, he can’t help but feel your concern for him is genuine.

You always ask him how he’s doing. Every class, without fail, you stop off at his desk on your way to your seat and ask: “How are you doing today, Mr. O’Hara?” Followed by questioning some inane, specific detail he told you off-handedly a day or week prior.

You always remembered the little details. Something even Miguel finds trouble with doing; what, with his extracurricular activities as Nueva York’s one and only Spiderman.

The fact that you’re kind to him, a luxury Miguel had long since lost along with his family, strikes a chord with him.

He’s not sure when his platonic appreciation of such a hard-working student turned to something more — a rogue daydream into the lewd — but once he started, he couldn’t get enough.

Something about your unspoken submission to him – your, dare he say, desire to perform just for him, led his mind and his morals astray, left much room for interpretation and experimentation.

Choosing to believe you liked him — like-liked him — made a brand of pride bubble in his chest that he couldn’t abandon, couldn’t find a potent enough alternative to.

He starts shamelessly, yet restrainedly, flirting with you. In his own way, of course.

“I loved your paper on the configuration of water molecules and their behaviour when observed; very enlightening stuff.”

The way your face would light up, your eyes crinkling while a small, almost relieved laugh escaped you, made his chest flutter.

He thought it was pride. How little he knows for a science professor.

Eventually, this escalated into him asking you to do things for him he “Wouldn’t ordinarily ask a student to do.”

He smiles at you, eyes deceptively kind behind his slender glasses, as he watches you so intently listen, hear, for his commands.

He wonders what other things you’d do — how far you’d really go, stretch yourself (as he hopes you’d let him) — for a good grade and a positive impression.

He has a secret weapon that he knows will work on you, regardless of how momentous the task.

“I’m trusting you because you’re my favourite student.”

There it is. The activation phrase. Your heart rate quickens, your pupils blow wide and he can feel, hear, the blood rush to your cheeks as his confession settles in.

He can expect whatever it is he’s asked you to do to be complete before the time he’s set for you to do it. And all because of your eagerness to prove that you’re worthy of such a title as ‘favourite’. His favourite.

Truly, though, you are his favourite.

He feels his heart prick and his eyes search for you whenever the door to the lecture hall opens.

Only once were you unable to come to class, rendered bed-ridden by the flu, and Miguel’s heart sank.

He thought at first it was because he didn’t have your adoring eyes following him, trailing his every movement, stroking off his ego with how furiously you’d type on your laptop, take everything he said and burn it into your memory with laser-life efficiency.

But, as the lecture drew to a close, Miguel felt…concerned about you. Your well-being.

A dangerous emotion.

He cared about you. More than just an academic plaything, a task donkey; he wanted to visit you, to care for you. In ways he knew only he was capable of.

During his surveillance of the city that night, he paid you a visit as Spiderman.

Nothing so overt as to make himself known to you; rather a sideline visit as he watched you through your bedroom window.

Truly, your physical state reflected how monumental your illness was; you lay in bed, unaware of the world around you as you slept, nose tip red and eyes ringed.

He wanted to come in, to tuck you back under the blankets you’d thrashed yourself free from, to check your temperature, to be with you.

He leaves, hand coming up to the glass, wishing to breach it — and all the rules — to see you.

But alas, the next time he sees you is in class a few days later when you’re fully recovered.

As you sidle into your seat, lecture hall (uncharacteristically) devoid of Miguel, your friends lean in to tell you all that you missed.

Though, to your surprise, it’s not academic material they’re covering.

“He kept looking over here while you were gone,” came one friend, smiling. Knowing.

“Yeah,” chimes another, leaning in even closer. “And he didn’t sound like he usually does — he sounded…” They look for the right word, term, eyes sliding upwards as if the answer lay heavenward.

The cogs click, they look at you, pointing.

“Disheartened!”

Of course, your friends knew of your admiration for Miguel, often construing it as romantic attraction, but their jibes never went past a joke – purely satirical. After all, practically every student fancied Miguel.

But, that was the first indication you’d seen that Miguel didn’t just view you as another of his students. Though, you hadn’t seen the other warning signs.

Not that youd knwo this prior to dating him, but Miguel gets unbelievably hard when you call him ‘Mr. O’Hara’. Or, even better, ‘Sir’.

Something about the way you look up at him beneath your lashes, eyes filled with the desire to please him, to get on his good side and undertake any task he set for you, was akin to him having full control over you — academic and otherwise.

It just reminds him of how much power he has over you; for the first time, he feels that he has control over the elements and objects around him — an agent of fate rather than being a subject of it. 

That, coupled with his secret identity as Spider Man, sends him on a power trip that often leads him to relieving himself of his growing burden in the privacy of his own four walls, your name laced between the groaning, the panting, the moaning; the only comprehensible instrument in his orchestra.

And, when you eventually start dating, he takes his frustrations out on you.

He makes low, raspy threats when he wants something.

“I’ll lower your grade,” he says, sliding his belt from the loops of his trousers.

The blood draining from your face, your widened stare, your mouth dropping open, make his pants feel tight. Tighter. Goosebumps erupt across his skin.

“Or,” he offers, folding the belt and holding it by the ends. He slaps the belt’s body against itself, sending a crack through the room. You flinch.

“You can be a good little student and earn your grade.”

‘Earning’ often ends with you panting and red and wet, while Miguel watches you between half-lidded, reddened eyes, contact lenses long abandoned, his true nature no longer an enigma to you.

Unfortunately for you.

Extra Yandere Headcanons:

Once you discover Miguel’s true identity, both as Spiderman and a monster, you can never leave.

And not just because you’d be endangering both yourself and him if you ever told anyone.

Miguel, quite simply, cannot live without you. And the thought that you would try to escape him is, despite his intelligence, baffling.

His delusion has blinded him, made him privy only to any positive opinion of him you may have, ignoring your reservations. Invalidating them.

If you ever do make the mistake of trying to leave, Miguel knows he cannot let you have the chance of making it again.

“Can’t risk you getting out, Darling,” he says, placing the finishing knots on the threads of his neon web, keeping your arms constricted behind your back. It’s nigh-impossible to breathe; the likelihood of you breaking your ribs against the pull of the web a certainty rather than you managing to burst it open with any manoeuvre.

He kneels before you, taking your cheek in his hand.

With fleeting defiance, you pull yourself from his grasp, only to see him bear his teeth, fangs and all, and growl. His hands snake about your cheek, your throat, and pull you to him.

“No-one will ever love you like I do,” he rasps. Before you can anticipate, his lips are on yours, parted, tongue lapping at the inside of your mouth. You squeeze your eyes shut, knowing better than to bite him.

His iron grip on your wrists from last time still haven’t healed.

You daren’t close your eyes for fear that doing so will leave you any more vulnerable than you already are.

Only when he’s breathless does he pull back, eyes half-lidded and gleaming. You can tell he’s angling for something more in the way his hand drops to your shoulder, his eyes sweeping across your collarbones.

But, luckily for you, the two of you know he can’t indulge in you just yet. Not while he has you bound in his basement and a class of students awaiting his arrival.

“I’ll be back for you later,” he says, still panting, forehead pressed to yours. His smile, once pointed and serpentine, is incongruously soft compared to the current circumstances. His lips gentle as he presses a kiss to your forehead. His eyes shimmer with a tenderness that often overtook him in moments of great need – of great “love”, as he’d characterise it.

With a tight, embrace, he parts from you. His shirt is an almost blinding white against the light pouring in from the hallway, the basement door now wide open. He retrieves his glasses from his breast pocket, slips them on. His eyes are unreadable, coloured brown with contact lenses which seemed to conceal his inhumanity from all except you.

“Sit tight, Sweetie,” he tells you. And you are plunged once again into darkness with only the dim glow of his web to accompany you.

And, just like the good, obedient student you are, you obey. For you have no other choice.

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