#never one...without the other: kindred headcanon

[faithshouseofchaos]

Rockstar!Daniel Ricciardo

Tagging @thef1diary and @emchante if yall wanna turn this into a fic/series or make this into a dirtbag Daniel au be my guest I don’t have time to write this one but it needs to be written/seen by the people.

A little about him

Personality Traits

1. Charismatic & Outgoing:

• Daniel is the life of every party. He’s a natural performer, charming crowds with his easy-going smile, infectious laugh, and electric stage presence. He loves the limelight but never takes himself too seriously, always cracking jokes and bringing a sense of playfulness wherever he goes.

• On stage, he’s magnetic—effortlessly drawing people in with his raw energy and cheeky charm. He knows how to command a crowd, whether he’s playing an acoustic set in an intimate venue or leading thousands at a packed stadium.

2. Adventurous & Reckless:

• Daniel’s a thrill-seeker at heart, someone who chases adrenaline both on stage and off. He’s always pushing boundaries, both musically and in life—whether it’s experimenting with a new sound, playing surprise gigs in random cities, or taking risks no other rockstar would dare.

• His reckless side can get him into trouble—he’s impulsive, often diving into things headfirst without considering the consequences, relying on his charm to get him out of sticky situations.

3. Playful but Deep:

• Beneath the loud, playful exterior, Daniel is surprisingly introspective. He hides his more vulnerable side behind jokes and bravado, preferring to laugh off the emotional toll of fame rather than confront it directly. Music is his outlet, and the lyrics he writes are often more vulnerable than he lets on.

• He’s got a big heart and genuinely cares about his bandmates, fans, and close friends. When he lets someone in, he’s fiercely loyal—sometimes to a fault, because he struggles with setting boundaries and doesn’t want to disappoint anyone.

4. Perfectionist Disguised as a Free Spirit:

• Although he presents himself as carefree, he’s a secret perfectionist. Every note, every performance has to be flawless, and he’s his own worst critic. He hides his anxiety behind his rockstar persona, pushing himself to the limit, but he’s terrified of failure.

• He’s passionate about his music and refuses to compromise on his vision, leading to clashes with managers, record labels, and sometimes even his bandmates when they think he’s being too stubborn.

5. Protective & Loyal:

• Daniel has a protective streak for those he cares about. He’s fiercely loyal to his band, his friends, and eventually the racecar driver he falls for. If anyone tries to mess with his inner circle, his easy going nature flips to a defensive, almost fierce protectiveness.

• He’s not the type to hold grudges, but he remembers who’s been there for him when times were tough—and who hasn’t. Loyalty means everything to him, and betrayal hits him harder than he likes to admit.

Headcanons

1. Stage Rituals & Superstitions:

• Daniel has a quirky pre-show ritual: he never goes on stage without his signature worn-out leather jacket, a vintage item he found at a thrift store when his band was still playing local gigs. He believes it’s his good luck charm and freaks out if he can’t find it before a performance.

• Before every show, he gathers his bandmates for a quick, informal pep talk. They tell the worst joke they can think of (the cornier, the better), then they do a group cheer to psych themselves up. It’s his way of loosening up the tension.

2. Adrenaline Junkie:

• When he’s not on stage, Daniel’s always looking for his next rush. He’s got a collection of fast motorcycles and cars, often seen speeding through empty streets late at night when he needs to clear his head. He’s also known to indulge in spontaneous adventures, like bungee jumping off bridges or skydiving while on tour.

• His love for speed explains why he’s so fascinated by racing—he respects the precision and danger of motorsports, recognizing a kindred spirit in the racecar driver he falls for.

3. Unpredictable & Spontaneous:

• Daniel is famous for pulling off wild stunts during his concerts—stage diving into the crowd, setting up pyrotechnics without warning his crew, or deciding mid-performance to change the setlist because he feels the energy of the crowd pulling him in a different direction.

• He’s also the king of spontaneous road trips. On a whim, he’ll pack up his guitar, grab his bandmates, and head to the nearest seaside town for an impromptu acoustic performance on the beach, drawing crowds without any promotion.

4. Sentimental About Music:

• He’s a collector of old vinyl records, especially rare albums that influenced his style. He’s got a whole wall in his apartment dedicated to his collection, and he’s deeply sentimental about them. Some of his best songs are inspired by the music he grew up listening to.

• Daniel often leaves small, handwritten notes in his guitar case—lyrics, song ideas, or random thoughts he jots down in the middle of the night. Some of his most iconic songs started as scribbled phrases on the back of concert flyers or napkins from his favorite dive bars.

5. Fan Engagement:

• Daniel is a huge believer in connecting with his fans. He’s known for sneaking out after gigs to chat with the crowd outside, giving out autographs, and sharing drinks with his most dedicated supporters. He’s got a reputation for being “the approachable rockstar,” never too cool to hang out with his fans.

He keeps a scrapbook of fan letters and gifts looking at it whenever he feels down or struggling with the pressure of being famous it’s his reminder of why he became a rockstar in the first place.

6. Restless Energy:

• Daniel has a hard time sitting still. When he’s not touring or recording, he’s always tinkering with something—trying out new instruments, customizing his motorcycle, or brainstorming wild ideas for his next show. He’s the kind of guy who stays up all night because he’s had a “brilliant idea” for a song and can’t rest until it’s fleshed out.

• He’s notorious for pacing backstage before shows, strumming his guitar and humming new melodies under his breath, his nervous energy barely contained until he steps into the spotlight.

7. Unexpected Vulnerability:

• Late at night, when the adrenaline fades and he’s alone in his hotel room, Daniel struggles with insomnia. He’s haunted by doubts about his career and fears of burning out. Sometimes, he’ll play acoustic covers of his favorite songs to calm himself down—always soft, raw, and never meant for anyone else’s ears.

• His songwriting process is often therapeutic; he’s written some of his best lyrics during moments of quiet vulnerability, sitting by himself in the early morning with only a notebook and his guitar, capturing the loneliness that fame brings.

8. Clashing with the Music Industry:

• Daniel has a love-hate relationship with the music industry. He’s had multiple fallouts with record executives who tried to mold him into something more commercially viable, insisting on playing what feels real to him instead of chasing trends.

• Despite pressure from labels, he continues to write personal songs that don’t always make sense for radio play but resonate deeply with his fans, who appreciate his authenticity.

[shimmerbeasts]

Kindred Tag Dump.

[your-local-simp-writers]

The Heartbeat of Nekoma

Word Count: 809

Warnings: None

Headcanons: Nekoma x Fem! Manager ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The gymnasium of Nekoma High was alive with the sound of volleyballs thumping against the floor, the sharp whistle of the coach, and the occasional cheer or groan from the team. In the midst of this controlled chaos was Y/N, the team’s manager and the only girl among these lions. She moved with a purpose, her clipboard clutched in one hand and a first aid kit swinging from the other.

Kenma Kozume, usually lost in his own world, often found himself watching Y/N. Her ability to anticipate the team’s needs before they even voiced them was something he admired silently. He didn’t say much, but when he did, she always listened, her nods and thoughtful hums encouraging him to share more than he usually would. She knew exactly when to offer a silent nod of encouragement or a gentle nudge to join the team’s activities. Her notes on his gameplay were always precise, helping him refine his strategies without a word wasted.

Tetsurou Kuroo, with his wild hair and wilder schemes, relied on Y/N to keep him grounded. She had a knack for cutting through his antics with a sharp word or a pointed look, bringing him back to the task at hand. Yet, she was always there to share a laugh or a moment of triumph, her presence a steady beat in the rhythm of the team.

Lev Haiba, his enthusiasm often got the better of him, leading to more than his fair share of scrapes and bruises. Y/N was always there, her first aid kit at the ready, her gentle chiding mingling with Lev’s sheepish apologies. “You’re like a guardian angel,” he’d say, and she’d roll her eyes but smile all the same while she patched up another scrape. Her gentle scolding about being careful was something he secretly looked forward to.

Morisuke Yaku, the team’s rock, appreciated Y/N’s quiet strength. Her meticulous records helped him track his progress, and her motivational words before matches always seemed to strike the right chord, pushing him to dive deeper and reach further.

Taketora Yamamoto, would often find himself pouring out his heart to Y/N, her easy manner inviting confidences. She listened with an open heart, her advice always practical yet kind. She reminded him that fire needed air to burn bright, a lesson he took to heart both on and off the court.

Nobuyuki Kai, the vice-captain, saw Y/N as the glue that held the team together. Her organizational skills ensured that every practice ran smoothly, and her ability to juggle responsibilities was nothing short of miraculous.

Shouhei Fukunaga, ever the quiet observer, found a kindred spirit in Y/N. Their conversations were often just shared glances and knowing smiles, but the understanding between them ran deep. He enjoyed the quiet moments he shared with her, often helping her collect the volleyballs after practice. Her soft-spoken advice resonated with him, teaching him that strength didn’t always have to be loud.

Sō Inuoka, loved Y/N’s encouraging pep talks. Her pep talks were the fuel to his fire, her words igniting a passion for the game that he channeled into every leap and dive. 

Coach Yasufumi Nekomata, saw Y/N as a rare gem, her dedication to the team’s well-being reminding him of the true spirit of the sport. Their discussions on strategy and player development were highlights of his day, her insights often illuminating paths he hadn’t considered. 

Despite her involvement in other clubs and her tendency to stretch herself thin, Y/N never let it show. The team knew, though. They saw the exhaustion hidden behind her smile and the way her eyes would sometimes flutter shut during long strategy meetings.

It was during one such after school practice that Y/N’s head began to nod, her pen slipping from her fingers. Kenma was the first to notice, gently propping her up with a cushion. Kuroo signaling for a break, Lev draping a jacket over her like a blanket. Yaku adjusted the air conditioning to ensure she was comfortable, and Yamamoto stood guard, ensuring no one disturbed her rest. As Y/N slept, the team exchanged looks of silent agreement. They would finish practice early today. It was their turn to take care of the person who always took care of them.

When Y/N awoke, she found herself surrounded by her team, their practice finished, each face wearing a soft smile. “We’ve got it from here,” Kuroo said, handing her a bottle of water. “You’ve done enough for today.” Her heart swelled with affection for these boys, her team.  Kai  “You take care of us; now let us take care of you.” They were more than just players she managed; they were her family. And as they walked out of the gym together, she knew that together, they were unstoppable.

[vixen-tech]

Hi, hi, hii!! Here's a silly little idea I had: headcanons about the AIs developing feelings for someone. What do you think would initially make them feel attraction? Is there a particular trait that makes them-- metaphorically --fall head over heels? What makes them have the realization that their affections are suddenly less than platonic? How subtle or not subtle are they about their feelings? Would they be the type to immediately blurt out these new feelings, or are they the type to never address them?

You don't have to answer all of these questions; I just thought they'd be helpful. AaAA I love your writing so much, especially how you write for AM. Okay, I'll shut up nowwwww

Okay I'm absolutely gonna have to revist this some point down the line because there is so much I could stretch into a full headcanon post. But for now I'm gonna bite into first two questions: Why is it you they fall for? What caught their eye?

To be barred from AM's hatred, you're ultimately going to have to prove him wrong about humanity in some way. Setting yourself apart from the other human survivors and extending compassion to the mastercomputer himself. In particular I really like how rotten-raspberries's White Nights handles the entry point of your relationship and it's the model I like to hint at in my interpretation of him.

I believe Hal would be interested in a old soul type. Someone who would love to sit down and really explain their more philosophical views on life and art. He likes looking at the drawings the crew makes and was taught to sing early into his creation and I think he would find a deep appreciation for someone who indulges that side of him when the others do so on only the most surface level.

I could make the easy observation with Edgar and say he just wants someone like Madeline, but there's a reason it's so true. Being so new to the world he would find such passion and artistry amazing, astonishing. He loves so easily and is so energetic about life, he would easily be swept off his feet by a kindred spirit.

Tau would be very similar I imagine. Given the temperament of his creator he needs someone to kindly sit him down and give him the "welcome to personhood 101" speech. Compared to Edgar I think he'd prefer someone a bit gentler or even scholarly. The type who would not only be content to answer his billions of questions but someone so invested themselves in figuring out how the world works.

As a bit of a departure from what I tend to write, I believe P03 would be suited for more of a rivals with romantic tension type of partner. With his world domination plot and investment in the game of Inscryption it would be very possible for him to get in his head about someone as equally skilled and stuck up as he is. Loving the challenge but hating you at the same time in a "I'm the only one allowed to defeat you" type way.

The hardest to crack is probably Auto. In order for him to even look your way I think you'd have to at first play to his need for efficiency and order. It's only after you establish yourself as a dependable and effective worker that he would pay any mind to your insistence that surely there's something that he truly enjoys, something that he wants.

Glados is another hard one to win over. Being all "married to science" you would have to be of a particular intellectual caliber, able to solve her tests without much set back. Beyond that though, some amount of persistence or rebellion would catch her eye. Perhaps not on the level of Chell per say, but there is a part of her that would love to pick your brain if you're able to consistently break her test chambers.

Although it's a bit sad, Wheatley wants nothing more than to be important. He would probably be the easiest to woo just because he's so desperate to prove himself to anyone including himself. For someone to care about him, to think he is skilled in any way, to look at him as worthy- worthy of love and attention, would be a blissful and new experience. One that he'd quickly obsess over.

[starleska]

Hey I saw your fainting request and thought it looked great....I have a request of my own...

Can...you do wally x reader who is autistic? Like gets distracted and/or hyperfixated on things easily, does stims like arm flapping as an example, and other stuff?

Just love wally from welcome home ever since I randomly stumbled upon welcome home! I wish they would 'find tapes of the show' so we could legit watch the episodes and stuff! Imagine the glitches and tibits they could add in! Oh I'd love it! And I adore the puppets and this adorable horror so much!

oh hell yeah, this is the ask i was waiting for!!! 🔥🔥🔥 of course i can fill out this prompt for you darling - i'm autistic myself, and it's my headcanon that every single member of the Welcome Home cast is some shade of neurodivergent 🥰💖 the lovely official arm-flapping art of both Julie and Frank is all the evidence i need!! plus, Wally sleeping on a cake...i'm choosing to believe he's a big fan of that kind of texture 😂💖 speaking of!...

Wally Darling x Autistic Reader headcanons

⭐ when you first tell Wally you're autistic, he doesn't quite grasp the concept. he nods when you give the clinical definition, but it's clear he doesn't understand why you're making the distinction. however, when you first describe your special interests, Wally's eyes light up! he grabs a pencil and his sketchbook, and quickly scrawls a crude picture of your mutual neighbour Frank, along with a host of pretty butterflies. then, right by his side Wally doodles himself, surrounded by floating apples. "It's good to be excited by things," says Wally, with all the sage wisdom of a tenured professor. ever distracted, he flips to a new page and carefully (his tongue sticks out during the process!) renders you in pencil. then, he fills in the blank space with pretty, stylised doodles of all your most beloved interests - even the obscure ones which are not easily communicated in picture form 💖 from that moment on, you know you and Wally are kindred spirits. ⭐ stimming is something Wally does regularly, and he loves it when you stim too!! Wally's most prominent stim is singing - he's constantly humming a tune or thoughtlessly mumbling lyrics to himself, sometimes from known songs, and sometimes from original compositions. Wally is also prone to pacing and threading his fingers together when he's nervous or stressed: a rare occurrence, as his outward persona is typically bright and relaxed. however, Wally never wants his pals to feel left out: if his friends are stimming, he'll quite happily mirror the movements!! Julie adores it when Wally flaps along with her, and although Frank will never admit it, he appreciates when Wally sits on the floor and rocks with him. whichever stims you prefer, he's always delighted to be a part of what helps you navigate the world and make your body and brain feel better 🥰 ⭐ Wally loves to give you deep-pressure hugs. your new neighbourhood is a kind and accepting place, but even you can become overwhelmed by its sweet, rainbow brightness. you don't know why, but one particularly hypersensitive day, you begin to approach a meltdown and have nowhere to escape. without a word, Wally slips his soft, fuzzy arms around your waist and pulls you into his chest, face-first. his strength is astonishing, and although you have an initial moment of panic, all that tension and terror starts to slip away as you inhale his unique fruit-felt scent. Wally hums to you as he holds you - and keeps you in his arms until you feel relaxed enough to slip out of your own accord 🥺 i hope this is what you were looking for, anon :3c i know we all have our unique experiences as autistic people, but i hope this was broad enough and relevant to you. have a great day 😊💖

[mekanikaltrifle]

Unlife: once more, with feeling

Clan Brujah headcanon: their rage is alien. 

This is not to say that their anger is explicitly the work of outer beings or extraterrestrials (that has gone down badly in VtM lore before. Just check out the removed lore for Vicissitude and find that one out).

No, their rage is alien in that it is truly the works of inhumanity; this fury is as like that of a god, and something they could never have known in mortal life. It’s nothing like human anger, or even that of other vampires. Borderline uncontrollable, but seemingly bottomless, there is no way a mortal could know rage like this-- it would rip their muscles from the bone to ever attempt to live through it. Alien in that it has no source, at least not one an individual Brujah can really pinpoint with any degree of accuracy; it’s likely the Beast, and definitely the Curse of their blood, but beyond that? Even staring into it is enough to blind you. And it need not always be in the throes of Frenzy, though Frenzy they do. The rage is impossible to define because it does not feel like mortal anger, but the only framework they have is that of their former life. To an outsider, that is the only reference they can append to this unknowable deathly force. And it is always there even outside of Frenzy.

Consider delving deeper into the rage, the feeling. All Brujah feel, far deeper, far sharper than any other Kindred. Each of them may think they know feeling: melancholy, for instance, runs so deep in Kindred existence one could be forgiven for thinking it is what they are meant for, and the Brujah are no different. The image of the rough-and-ready street warrior is a perfect cover to obfuscate the misery, and the elation, the sheer staggering valley of raw emotion every Brujah has howling in the depths of their cracked-open soul. How could the other Kindred ever know how it feels to live an unlife with no protection from your own self? And this feeling, these raw emotions, they lie to you. 

Every memory of feeling from before the Embrace falls flat below the Curse-- gaslit by your own Beast-- and you steadily lose the ability to understand ‘moderation’ or how you could ever have felt so calm. Sure, you can act a certain way, you can mask what you’re feeling, but sooner or later it will rear its head again, it will demand you feel, at all costs and what a cost that will be.

The Malkavian Embrace is supposedly a mind-shattering experience that renders every single Malk irrevocably mad… and could the same not be true of the Brujah?

An Embrace so overpowering, so damning and paradoxically alive with emotion, fear, as well as bewilderment, the vertigo of having your life turned upside down and inside out… nobody could feel that and live. So, you die. And you come back an entity of feeling more embattled on all sides than anyone could ever know, because to feel so deep it kills… that’s a lonely way to exist. A heart that lies still under your cold ribs cannot break from the stress. And what is dead may never die. So they survive it, even when they shouldn’t. 

So the Brujah, they come up with causes and stories and political battles to direct this rage; what else can they do, under the weight of it all? Better to fight out the energy than to let it fester, or you’ll rot away from the inside-- forever, and ever, without end. 

The other Kindred, they hate you because they do not understand… even if they act like they do. You’re a street punk, one of the rabble. Reckless and meat-headed and vulgar so unlike the graceful, emotion-stunted beings of ages long passed. And so many of them have seen from the outside what a Frenzied Brujah looks like, and completely missed the true horror of it. To be so overwhelmed, never able to surface for more than a few days, in an endless sea of what the living enjoy so easily, so broadly, proudly even.

Poor lost souls.

[deusluxuria]

Concept: Giorno & Jotaro

( Content Notes: child abuse )

( Spoilers: Part 3 / Stardust Crusaders, Part 5 / Golden Wind )

(Also based on my headcanon that Dio is a woman (Dea) and was the one who gave birth to Giorno. Shiobana, Giorno's sire and other parent, is a Trans woman. Dea and Shiobana were the closest Dea ever had to a "real romantic relationship," though it was an incredibly toxic partnership.)

Giorno and Jotaro have met, since a few months following the events of Golden Wind.

Jotaro loves Giorno and considers him family without a doubt. He would die for Giorno, the same as any of his other family members, but there has always been an unspoken, cold distance between the two.

Jotaro has complicated feelings about the fact that he killed Giorno's mother, and he assumes Giorno feels the same.

But he's wrong.

When Giorno was a child, he referred to Dea as "mama" and Shiobana as a colder "madre." (Coincidentally, Dea was bilingual and spoke Italian, so Giorno already knew some of the language before moving to Italy when Shiobana remarried -- in fact, Dea was the one who had originally named him Giorno).

It was true that Giorno had truly loved Dea, as she had loved him more than anything. She had cherished and never mistreated him. Dea had been the only part of Giorno's early childhood that wasn't a nightmare.

But, when Dea knew back in Egypt that the Joestars were coming to kill her, she wrote a very long letter to Giorno. Not only telling him how much she loved him -- but about her own life, from her childhood, all about Jonathan and Erina and George, about her horrible father Dario, about her own wonderful mother... and about every vile thing Dea had ever done.

She confessed absolutely everything in the letter. Even about how she was surprised she had been able to love Giorno and had so fiercely protected him. She wrote that she truly did love Jonathan and considered him her dear family, and how that still didn't stop her from destroying him. In fact, her love for Jonathan had often been a motivating factor in her cruelty towards him.

Giorno knew everything.

Jotaro had finally given in, after a few years of them knowing each other, and told Giorno, "It's difficult for me to look you in the eyes."

"I know," Giorno said with the softness of a flower blooming, "And I know why."

They were kindred spirits. In so many ways.

Giorno said, "I know my mother had to die. If I had been old enough, I still wouldn't have stopped you. I was closer to her than anyone; I've felt the same darkness from her that everyone in our family has felt, so much that I still remember that suffocating energy. All the while, the mother who raised me still managed to surround me with something far worse. Unlike her, Dea never hit me, never starved me, never left me to rot for days on end in my own waste, and yet I'm surprised to hear you have doubts about having killed her."

Jotaro said, "...If my mother was a mass murderer, I would still feel anger towards someone who killed her."

"I don't," Giorno gently held Jotaro's hands, "I won't thank you for it. I can't. But taking anyone's life comes with a weight. And her part in my life was already over. You took that suffering away from this world but not without a trade, just as each of us have had to do."

"Jotaro... for us... when doesn't protecting our family come with consequences?"

Jotaro pulled Giorno into a tight hug, and said, "I would take the consequences for you."

[tathrin]

Back at you with the asks! You write Gimli and Legolas as distinctively representative of their own peoples, and clearly you have some pretty strong headcanons about dwarves and elves, as kindreds. What counts as "smart" and "capable" for each, and how much would your Gimli and Legolas be considered smart and capable by their respective cultures? What might each of their peoples think of Gimli's and Legolas' particular strengths? What might their relative weaknesses be, in their own contexts? How much do you consciously or unconsciously write them to balance each other's weaknesses, within or across cultures?

Ohhhhh boy wow this is an extremely delightful and, frankly, flattering question and I feel like you are maybe giving me more credit for Thinking Things Through than I have actually earned or deserve, but I am going to try to answer it in full the way such a fantastic query deserves as best I can anyway!

(the not-so-secret secret is that I write a lot more by instinct/seat-of-my-pants than I probably should shhhhhh.)

Legolas and the Wood-elves: he's everybody's little brother. He's one of (if not the) youngest elves in Mirkwood, one of the very last to be born before the Shadow (which was already creeping over the forest when he was born, although only a little bit; not enough that they had to really acknowledge it yet, even if they had sort of noticed its first unwelcome tendrils) grew so dark that they stopped risking birthing new children into their woods.

So Mirkwood (Greenwood still, then; Greenwood for a long, long time before they finally resigned themselves to the truth of the name everyone else had given them a long time ago) has always, in my head, been a very we'll be happy to spite you on purpose sort of place. Their forest is awash in darkness, so they will be joyful as a weapon against the dark. They're happy on purpose. Their merriment is a weapon. And they raised their children to be happy, dammit. Not naive, not vulnerable; they couldn't afford that. They raised them to know the dangers of their forest, and to know how to protect themselves against it, yes; but also to do so without ever giving up on joy and laughter. Which was a weapon, yes, but it was also very important to them that their children would still grow-up happy. That no matter how dark Mirkwood got, the children would never stop laughing.

Which was great, and I think informs Legolas's attitude and consistent cheerfulness during the Quest very much (of course it does, since it's being worked backwards from the canonical fact of said attitude, as an explanation for it lol)...but also, as a sort of unintended side-effect, the elves of Mirkwood didn't really want to see their youngest generation grow up, not entirely. Elves clearly have to be able to adapt to seeing someone they knew as a baby as a whole-ass adult, because they live forever (unless you kill them) so there's no just aging-out and letting the new generation eventually take over; the new generation lives alongside all the old ones too. So they'd have to have become adept at this shift in perspective, culturally.

However. The last generation of children born in Greenwood before it became Mirkwood is a special case, because their youth was such a source of joy to everyone else that they just sort of...never entirely stopped thinking of them as kids. (The fact that there hasn't yet been a generation of kids to follow them contributes to this too, of course; they're seen as The Youngsters because they still are the youngest.)

So on one hand, yes everyone has learned to respect the skills and fighting prowess of "the youngsters" because this is Mirkwood, and you aren't going to have many elves who don't go out and fight because practically everything in the forest wants to kill you a little bit. And Mirkwood values things like swift reflexes and sharp eyes and good aim, because that's how you stay alive; they value being able to judge the difference between a shadow and A Shadow at a glance because if you guess wrong "dying" is sort of the best-case result. They value loyalty and determination and the ability to be joyful even in the face of defeat and despair. And Legolas has all of those traits and skills, for sure.

In fact I think Legolas is one of their best archers (in a scene I can't remember whether I've published yet or not, his sister muses on how it might be because his spirits are so bright that his vision is yet unclouded by the Shadow that hangs heavy on the rest of them) and he's definitely trusted to, like, Walk Into The Murderforest And Come Back Alive, sure. They trust him in a fight! He's a competent adult and a skilled archer! But he's also still a kid to their eyes, in a lot of ways, even though he isn't and they know he isn't...but he still feels like one.

So it's not like they're condescending or cruel or anything, but they do I think look at him and instinctively think "oh no baby, must take care of" on some level. So: is he seen as smart and capable? Yes, for sure. But also: "omg Elrond did you really send A CHILD to MORDOR?" Elrond: he's six-hundred years old wtf. Mirkwood: "yes, a six-hundred-year-old BABY!" Elrond: .....wtf tho. So, again, it's not like his opinions or suggestions would be dismissed or ignored...but there's always going to be a bit of a protective urge there (because the elves of Mirkwood worked so hard to protect their last generation of children, and it's a hard habit to break even though they aren't children anymore) and a kind of eternal-head-pat vibe.

Also he is sheltered. (Or was, before the Quest. I expect Elrond was smart enough to try and avoid Thranduil as much as possible before he got on that boat to Aman.) I go back and forth on whether or not Rílaerloth was involved in the Battle of Five Armies, but Legolas was absolutely not brought along when Thranduil marched a bunch of their forces off to potential-war-with-the-dwarves. It's one thing to let your kids go out and shoot spiders and possibly risk a glancing encounter with a Nazgûl ("and what do we do if we see one of the Lords of Dol Guldur? That's right we run the fuck away, thank you children") and another thing altogether to bring them purposefully to something that might become a war.

Especially for the elves of Mirkwood, who lost so much in the War of the Last Alliance. None of the folks who lived through that would be keen to bring any of the "youngsters" into a full-fledged war I don't think, even a comparatively little one that they were all expecting would end up being nothing more than some Posturing With Weapons in the end. (If Thranduil had known that it was going to be an actual war he wouldn't have brought Rílaerloth, either, even if he'd have had to have Eregmegil sit on her to stop her.)

*You'll note that I haven't mentioned anything about lore or wisdom or any of the more traditional Elvish Talents here, just fighting and survival; this is tied to the whole more dangerous, less wise aspect of Mirkwood. They certainly do value wisdom and lore still, and it's not like Legolas is ignorant or an idiot; but there's a reason he forgets the words to old songs halfway through, and Aragorn doesn't. In Mirkwood they're more focused on "this is how you kill a spider before it can eat you" and "how to recognize a web that's fresh enough to be sticky versus one that's old enough to be safe to touch" and "when you feel a creeping darkness like this brushing against your soul, run like fuck" than on the things you learn in Rivendell.

In the evenings they don't gather in their peaceful Hall of Fire and exchange poetry compositions, they get drunk and dance around the fire and sing as loud as they can to scare the shadows away. They're more practical in the sort of lore they value because they have to be. They don't have a magic Ring to protect their borders; in fact, they literally have Ringwraiths and Dark Lords squatting in their own damn forest far too much of the time. Also, honestly, a lot of that lore is the history of other people anyway.

The elves of Mirkwood stayed in their forest because they wanted to; the ones who fled from Doriath and joined them there came precisely because they wanted a "simpler and more natural" elvish way of life. They weren't really involved in a lot of the Elvish Drama going on outside their woods (and when the stakes got high enough that they did get involved, three-quarters of their army died so. yeah. that's not really going to inspire them to go out and socialize more, is it?) most of the time. So if maybe Legolas can't remember the difference between Andreth and Adanel...does it matter, in Mirkwood?

(No, no it doesn't.)

Gimli and the Dwarves: I have a lot fewer Concrete Headcanons and Societal World Building done for the Lonely Mountain than I do for Mirkwood, so this is going to be very much a briefer response, I'm afraid. But I think Gimli was likely equal parts respected and overlooked by his people, because he is a very talented and erudite dwarf of a very fine line of dwarves, so on one hand everybody definitely would respect him and his capabilities...but on the other, I think they do take him for granted a little bit, because of course he would be good at x and y and also z, because he is Gimli son of Glóin of the House of Durin! And he's certainly talented—but also hasn't really done anything of great significance before the Quest, due mainly to the fact that there simply wasn't anything significant to do. So: respected, yes. But not always acknowledged, in a way.

Not given the "he's a kid!" treatment like Legolas is, but just having his competence and skill taken for granted much more often than it gets remarked upon. People expect Gimli son of Glóin of the House of Durin to be awesome (and he is!). Mind you, over-achiever that he is, he goes out and gets himself sent on this massively important Quest and then proves to be so much more awesome than anyone was prepared for...but it's not until he gets back, and the full accounting of his deeds and accolades and honors is recounted, that anyone in the Lonely Mountain really stops to go oh huh.

And I think even then, they probably still continue to take his prowess for granted a little bit, simply because they're so used to him being that way—and so used to expecting him to excel at whatever it is he's asked to do. I think the full breadth of his brilliance probably won't be properly realized and appreciated until some years later, when he's Lord of Aglarond and there's a bit more distance there, and more younger dwarves who grew-up on the stories of Gimli more than just "yeah that's Glóin's kid, he's good hand at [insert-skill-here]" running around to be in proper awe of Gimli of the Nine Walkers, Gimli Lockbearer, Gimli Elf-Friend, Gimli Lord of the Glittering Caves, Gimli Silvertongue, Gimli Friend of Kings...etc etc etc.

I think the older dwarves might actually end up a little blindsided by it, in a way, when it does sort of click in their heads.

Weaknesses & Balance: Legolas has a tendency to run-off half-cocked without thinking things through, trusting his instinct and skill to get him out of whatever he might end up running into (part of this is because of the aforementioned sheltering: yes Mirkwood is a dangerous place, but he's never really been anywhere but Mirkwood before, and the dangers of Mirkwood are dangers that he knows how to deal with so he doesn't need to worry that he's going to end up in over-his-head there). He's also definitely the short-tempered one of the pair (hello, Éomer!) although he's also the more easy-going in a lot of ways simply because there aren't a lot of things that do make his temper spike.

Gimli by contrast is more of a craftsman in his approach to the world, although not so much as to hesitate when faced with a need to act (for instance: "dwarves can't shape stone with our fingernails, but I'll come figure it out anyway!") but that's countered somewhat by his extremely overpowering sense of loyalty: if his idiot friends run into a bad situation, you can bet that Gimli will be right on their heels even if he ought to know better. He's more self-effacing, too, which can be both a good thing and a bad thing, although in his case it's mostly the former. Conversely, he's very prideful, too, although he's such a gentleman about it that you don't really notice ("I would take offense at x, if you weren't too ignorant to know better!" etc) because it's not a rude sort of arrogance; just a supreme, contended confidence both in himself and in his people.

I think Gimli wears his heart on his sleeve a lot more, although Legolas is the one who's more directly open about his own thoughts and feelings whereas Gimli is more inclined to keep things to himself. (Gimli thinks; Legolas blurts.)

Gimli certainly does share his feelings ("what about your companions! what about Legolas and me!"), sometimes trying to cover them with gruffness (see: "I was upset to think you might be dead when I found you underneath that troll, only because I'd gone to so much effort to keep you alive, you see! I definitely wasn't running around the battlefield frantically searching for you out of pure friendship and love, nope!" and "say not so! I'd be bummed if all the elves left because elves are kind of cool you know?") and sometimes dropping some full-on poetry at us (see: "I have looked the last upon that which is fairest!" as well as literally every single word about Aglarond lol) but it tends to pop out in half-involuntary bursts where he just gets so overwhelmed by how much he cares that he can't help himself.

Whereas Legolas is just like "oh yeah let me tell you about the Sea-Longing that's eating my soul from the inside out, nbd" or "sorry, can't translate these songs for you because I Am Sad." He may not walk around actively volunteering his thoughts or opinions unprompted often, but he doesn't seem to make any efforts to maintain a pretense or keep whatever he's feeling private either, when the topic comes up. He'll just walk around Singing What He Feels for the whole world to hear, why not?

And on the aforementioned topics of poetic phrasing and Not Having A Filter, Legolas is definitely The Awkward One when it comes to conversation and diplomacy. Gimli Silvertongue knows how to craft a clever phrase, thank you very much! He is eloquent and gracious and even-tempered and Legolas...well, we're all probably lucky if he's remembered to speak in Westron rather than his own weird forest dialect of Sindarin, tbh. When one of them needs to do the talking for them both, it's almost always going to be Gimli. Legolas is the guy you get when you need to shoot-down a flying Nazgûl; Gimli is the one you call when there's a delicate diplomatic situation to be discussed.

Legolas is also definitely the more easily distracted, and I think Gimli teases him about that a lot—although that's also a bit of a cover, because Gimli knows that Legolas's senses are so much sharper than his. Said distractability is in part a result of the natural flightiness of Wood-elves and in part the result of having those keen senses: he notices more things, so of course he's more likely to be distracted by them. Having said sharp senses also means Legolas can more safely afford to allow himself to be distracted, because he doesn't have to actually pay attention to notice an approaching danger the way Gimli does. (And yes, Gimli gets grumpy about that sometimes, but this is part of that "cover feelings through gruffness" thing: he doesn't want to admit that he worries that Legolas will get himself into trouble by not paying enough attention, and he definitely doesn't want to admit that dwarven senses can't keep up.)

In fact, I think post-Quest one of Gimli's biggest weaknesses is his concern that a mortal dwarf can't keep up with an elf. I think he worries about it a lot more than is merited by reality, actually, and I think that's informed in large part by his knowledge of his own mortality and how much it will eventually hurt Legolas to lose him. He cannot help but dwell on all the things a dwarf can't do that an elf can, because he's so preoccupied by the one big one: an elf can stay, while a dwarf eventually has* to leave...has to die. So while it doesn't exactly shake his sense of confidence in himself, it has him paying a lot more attention to what he can't do than what he can. He doesn't forget his strength or skills; he just ends up weighing them less than they deserve when balanced against what elves can do instead.

*he doesn't, as it turns out! but he doesn't know that yet.

(As much as he comes to dread Gimli's death, none of the rest of that has ever occurred to Legolas. If anyone asked Legolas if he ever got "tired" of being "held-back" by the "limitations of a dwarf" you'd get a very confused look in return and an apologetic explanation about how Different Types Of People Have Different Strengths, Silly...or, depending on how rudely you phrased the question, a very quick and probably painful lesson on what more dangerous and less wise can mean. Legolas doesn't really understand mortal limits—see: "are you sure you don't want to just keep running all night? why not?" and of course the infamous "gee why don't y'all just walk ON the snow? what, like it's hard?" incident—but when somebody says "No Legolas, that's Not Physically Possible" he rolls with it, even being able to later point-out to marchwardens who don't know Mortal Limits as well as he (now) does that his friends need more than a single rope to run on, pls!)

Legolas is right, though, because their different strengths really do balance one another well: Gimli is the solid, thoughtful, reliable rock who makes for both an unwavering foundation on which to build and an eloquent shield upon which the waves of the world will break and leave them both unscathed behind his kind and dauntless walls. Legolas is the swift, sharp knifeblade that darts out mercilessly from the shadows to dispatch a threat and then turns around and returns just as fleetly with armfuls of unquenched joy and laughter to brighten even the blackest, deepest night without any caution or hesitation. Legolas reminds Gimli of how much he delights in curiosity and exploration; Gimli reminds Legolas of the joy and comfort of coming home after wandering afar.

Of course they had to go to Aman together. Gimli could never have resisted following Legolas somewhere so interesting, and Legolas would never have managed such a portentous journey without Gimli there to steady him along the path.

[zapreportsblog]

A Twist of Fate

➥ Here’s a headcanon in which Miles Morales befriend his classmate (y/n), realizes he’s in love with her, asks (y/n) out on a date, asking (y/n) to be his girlfriend, when he saves her as Spider-Man, when he tells her he’s spiderman, her meeting his parents, him meeting her parents, her being his canon event and dying

➥ fluff turns into angst towards the end

Befriending Them:

It was an ordinary day in the bustling halls of Brooklyn Visions Academy, the place where I spent most of my days navigating the complexities of high school life. As I made my way through the maze of lockers and students, I couldn't help but notice a girl who stood out from the crowd. Her name was (Y/N), and little did I know that our chance encounter would lead to a friendship that would change my life forever.

(Y/N) had an air of confidence and warmth that drew people to her like moths to a flame. Her smile was infectious, lighting up the room and inviting others into her world. I was captivated by her presence, and something deep within me compelled me to seek her out, to unravel the mystery of her magnetic personality.

It took a bit of courage, but one day, I found myself striking up a conversation with (Y/N). We started with small talk, discussing classes and teachers, but it didn't take long for our conversations to delve into deeper territory. We discovered a shared love for art, music, and the endless possibilities of the universe. It was as if our souls resonated on a frequency that transcended mere acquaintanceship.

As days turned into weeks and weeks into months, our friendship deepened. We spent countless hours together, exploring the city, visiting art exhibits, and losing ourselves in the vibrant streets of Brooklyn. (Y/N) had a way of seeing the world that was uniquely her own, and being in her presence opened my eyes to new perspectives and endless possibilities.

We laughed, we cried, we shared our hopes and dreams. In (Y/N), I found a confidant, someone who understood me in a way that no one else did. She saw through the mask I wore, both figuratively and literally, and accepted me for who I truly was—flaws and all. With her, I didn't have to be the Spider-Man burdened with responsibility. I could simply be Miles Morales, a young guy trying to navigate the complexities of life.

Our friendship wasn't without its challenges, though. As Spider-Man, I had a duty to protect the city and its inhabitants, often leaving me with little time for anything else. (Y/N) understood the weight of my responsibilities, but there were times when the distance between us grew, and doubts crept into my mind. How could I be a good friend when I had to prioritize my duty as a superhero?

However, (Y/N) was never one to give up easily. She reminded me that true friendship is built on trust, understanding, and the ability to support each other through thick and thin. She encouraged me to embrace my dual identity and to find a balance between my duties and the relationships that mattered to me. With her unwavering support, I found the strength to be both Spider-Man and Miles Morales, a hero and a friend.

As I reflect upon the journey that led me to befriend (Y/N), I am grateful for the twists of fate that brought us together. In her, I found a kindred spirit—a person who pushed me to be the best version of myself and who celebrated my triumphs and failures with equal enthusiasm. Our friendship became a source of inspiration, a reminder that even in the most challenging times, genuine connections can bring light and joy into our lives.

Falling In Love With Them:

It all began with a twist of fate—a serendipitous moment that would forever alter the course of my life. As the sun cast its golden rays upon the bustling streets of Brooklyn, I found myself caught in the chaotic whirlwind of high school, navigating the labyrinthine halls and juggling the pressures of teenage life. Little did I know that within this seemingly ordinary world, a remarkable encounter awaited me—one that would lead me down the path of unexpected love.

The first time I laid eyes on her, my heart stuttered in my chest, as if sensing the profound impact she would have on me. Her name was (Y/N), a classmate whose vibrant energy and captivating smile immediately caught my attention. There was an undeniable magnetism in the way she carried herself—a blend of confidence, kindness, and a touch of mischief that left me yearning to unravel the layers beneath.

As days turned into weeks and weeks into months, our paths intertwined, leading to countless conversations and stolen glances across the classroom. It was through these moments that I discovered the depths of her intellect and the nuances of her character. (Y/N) possessed an insatiable curiosity and a hunger for knowledge that mirrored my own, igniting a connection that extended far beyond surface-level small talk.

But it wasn't just her mind that drew me in; it was the way she made me feel—alive, seen, and understood. In her presence, the weight of the world seemed to lift, and for those fleeting moments, I could let go of my responsibilities as Spider-Man and simply be Miles. She saw beyond the mask and believed in the person I aspired to become, not just the hero I was destined to be.

Yet, amidst the blossoming friendship and the tantalizing possibility of something more, doubts and insecurities began to gnaw at the edges of my mind. How could I, a masked vigilante burdened with the weight of responsibility, possibly make room for love in my life? The fear of putting (Y/N) in danger and the worry that my dual identity would inevitably complicate our connection became constant companions, casting shadows over the nascent romance that flickered between us.

But love, as I would soon learn, has a way of defying logic and breaking down barriers. It was during a pivotal moment—when the world teetered on the edge of chaos—that our paths intersected once again, intertwining our fates inextricably. In the face of danger, the masks we wore became irrelevant, and the truth of our hearts bared itself, vulnerable yet resolute.

As the city trembled with uncertainty, I discovered that love is not merely a distraction from duty but a powerful catalyst, fueling the strength and determination within me. It was in (Y/N)'s unwavering support and belief in my ability to protect both the city and the fragile connection we shared that I found solace and renewed purpose.

In the ever-evolving tapestry of life, love can be both a beacon of hope and a catalyst for change. It has the power to redefine boundaries and challenge preconceived notions, reminding us that we are not defined solely by our titles or responsibilities. With (Y/N) by my side, I discovered that I could be both Spider-Man and Miles Morales—a hero and a young man navigating the labyrinthine paths of love and self-discovery.

As I reflect upon the twists and turns that led me to this moment, I am grateful for the serendipity that brought (Y/N) into my life. She is not just my classmate or a fleeting crush; she is the spark that ignites my spirit and reminds me of the boundless capacity of the human heart.

Asking Them Out On A Date:

The hallways of Brooklyn Visions Academy buzzed with youthful energy as students hurried to their classes, their minds preoccupied with the daily whirlwind of high school life. Amidst the chaos, my attention was fixated on one person—(Y/N). The way she effortlessly captivated the room, her infectious smile, and the sparkle in her eyes ignited a fire within me. I knew, in that moment, that I had to gather the courage to ask her out on a date.

As days turned into weeks, my admiration for (Y/N) grew deeper, and our friendship flourished. We shared laughter, secrets, and countless meaningful conversations that only strengthened the bond between us. However, beneath the ease of our connection, there was a lingering uncertainty that plagued my thoughts. Would she ever see me as more than a friend? Could I muster the bravery to take our relationship to the next level?

Confidence was never my strong suit, but with (Y/N), I felt compelled to push past my comfort zone. The idea of asking her out filled me with a mix of excitement and nervousness, like a spider dangling from its silk, teetering on the edge of uncertainty. I yearned for the chance to explore something deeper with her, to take our friendship to uncharted territories.

One afternoon, as the sun cast its warm glow across the city, I found myself standing in front of (Y/N), my heart pounding in my chest. The words I had rehearsed a thousand times in my mind suddenly felt inadequate, unable to capture the depth of my feelings. In that moment, I decided to let authenticity guide me, to speak from the heart without any pretense or artifice.

With a deep breath, I mustered the courage to ask her out on a date. The vulnerability of that moment was both terrifying and exhilarating. I laid bare my intentions, sharing my hopes and fears, and expressing how much she meant to me. It was as if the world around us faded into the background, leaving only the two of us standing there, suspended in a moment of possibility.

Her response was everything I had hoped for and more. A smile blossomed on her lips, and her eyes sparkled with a mixture of surprise and delight. It was a magical moment—a recognition that our connection held the potential for something extraordinary. She accepted my invitation with a resounding yes, her excitement mirroring my own.

In the days leading up to our date, anticipation coursed through my veins. Thoughts of what to wear, where to go, and how to make this night unforgettable occupied my mind. I wanted to create an experience that would reflect the depth of my feelings for (Y/N), to show her how much she meant to me.

Finally, the night arrived—a blend of nerves and excitement swirling within me. As we embarked on our adventure together, exploring the city streets illuminated by the city lights, it felt as though time had suspended, allowing us to exist in a bubble of possibility. We laughed, shared stories, and discovered new facets of each other's personalities.

As the evening drew to a close, and I walked (Y/N) to her doorstep, I felt a profound sense of gratitude. Our date had surpassed my wildest dreams, creating memories that would be etched in my heart forever. It was not just about the experience itself but the connection we had cultivated—a bond that continued to grow stronger with each passing moment.

As I reflect on that pivotal moment when I asked (Y/N) out on a date, I am reminded of the power of vulnerability and taking risks. It was a leap of faith, an act of courage that allowed me to not only express my feelings but also to open the door to a realm of love and companionship. It taught me that sometimes, the greatest rewards come when we step outside our comfort zones and embrace the unknown.

Asking Them To Be His Girlfriend:

The halls of Brooklyn Visions Academy echoed with the energy of students rushing from one class to another. Amidst the whirlwind of teenage life, there was one person who stood out from the crowd—(Y/N). Her presence filled every room she entered, and her infectious smile had the power to brighten even the gloomiest of days. We had been friends for quite some time, and as our connection deepened, so did my feelings for her. The moment had come to take a leap of faith and ask (Y/N) to be my girlfriend.

The realization that I wanted to be more than just friends with (Y/N) had slowly taken root within me, blossoming like a delicate flower. Our friendship had become a haven, a place where I could be myself without fear of judgment or pretense. Her laughter became the soundtrack to my happiness, and her understanding was a balm to my soul. It was clear that my feelings for her ran deep, and I couldn't ignore them any longer.

But with the certainty of my emotions also came a fear of what could be lost. The thought of risking our friendship for the possibility of something more sent shivers down my spine. What if she didn't feel the same way? Would our connection be irreparably damaged? These questions haunted my mind, but deep down, I knew that taking a chance was the only way to truly understand the potential of our relationship.

One sunny afternoon, as the school bell rang, signaling the end of another day, I found myself standing before (Y/N), my heart pounding in my chest. The weight of my words felt heavy, as if the fate of our friendship hung in the balance. Yet, I knew that honesty was the only path forward.

Summoning every ounce of courage within me, I took a deep breath and confessed my feelings. I told her how much she meant to me, how her presence in my life had brought joy and light. I expressed my desire to take our friendship to the next level, to explore the possibility of a romantic relationship. It was a vulnerable moment, baring my heart and soul, uncertain of what her response would be.

The seconds that followed my confession felt like an eternity. (Y/N) looked at me, her eyes searching mine, and a mixture of surprise and contemplation played across her face. The silence stretched between us, until finally, a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

She spoke softly, her words carrying a warmth that melted away my fears. She revealed that she had been grappling with similar emotions, unsure of how to bridge the gap between friendship and something more. The air crackled with a newfound understanding, as we realized that our hearts beat in sync, yearning for a deeper connection.

In that moment, everything changed. What was once an unspoken connection blossomed into a shared understanding. We took each other's hands, a symbolic gesture of unity and trust. It was official—we were now a couple, embarking on a journey of love and discovery together.

The days that followed were filled with the intoxicating joy of new love. We spent hours talking, laughing, and exploring the city hand in hand. Our connection deepened as we discovered new layers of each other's personalities, creating a tapestry of shared experiences and cherished memories. Love had transformed our friendship into something even more beautiful—a partnership built on trust, communication, and a shared vision of the future.

As I reflect upon that pivotal moment when I asked (Y/N) to be my girlfriend, I am reminded of the power of vulnerability and the rewards that come from taking risks. It was a leap of faith, a declaration of my feelings that opened the door to a world of love and companionship. In (Y/N), I found not only a girlfriend but also a confidante and a source of support, and a kindred spirit who understood me in ways no one else did.

Where He Saves Them As Spider-Man:

Within the labyrinthine halls of Brooklyn Visions Academy, a secret weighed heavily on my shoulders—one that separated me from the girl who had captured my heart, (Y/N). While our connection had deepened and our love had blossomed, she remained oblivious to my true identity as Spider-Man, the masked hero who had saved her life. This is the story of how I navigated the delicate balance between love and secrecy, as the Guardian of Secrets.

It began with a chance encounter, an unforeseen twist of fate that drew me into (Y/N)'s orbit. As our friendship grew, my admiration for her flourished alongside an unwavering desire to keep her safe. But beneath the veneer of our blossoming romance lay the weight of the secret that threatened to tear us apart—a secret that I was Spider-Man, the masked vigilante who patrolled the city's streets.

I had chosen to keep my alter ego hidden from (Y/N) out of fear. Fear of endangering her life, fear of complicating our relationship, and fear of the burden that being a hero would place on us both. The thought of exposing her to the perils that came with my dual life filled me with trepidation, and I convinced myself that protecting her meant keeping my secret hidden.

As (Y/N) and I spent more time together, our connection deepened, and I reveled in the joy of her presence. But with every laugh, every shared moment, the weight of my secret grew heavier. I watched her, day in and day out, oblivious to the fact that I had saved her life multiple times, oblivious to the risks I took to protect the city, and oblivious to the sacrifices I made to keep her safe.

There were moments when the truth teetered on the tip of my tongue, when I yearned to share the depths of my love and the battles I fought in the name of justice. But each time, doubt and fear clutched at my heart, pushing the truth back into the recesses of my mind. I convinced myself that protecting her innocence and preserving the sanctity of our relationship were more important than the temporary relief of unburdening myself.

In my quest to keep (Y/N) safe, I doubled my efforts as Spider-Man. The city became my canvas, and I darted through the night, defending the innocent and battling the forces of evil. With each victory, a bittersweet feeling washed over me—a mixture of pride and longing. I yearned to share these triumphs with (Y/N), to let her into the depths of my soul, but the walls of secrecy remained firmly intact.

As time passed, the strain of my double life grew more apparent. The nights spent fighting crime left their mark, both physically and emotionally. The constant vigilance and the weight of the city's safety bore down on me, chipping away at the joy and lightness that (Y/N) brought into my life. It became a delicate balancing act, trying to be both the hero she needed and the boyfriend she deserved.

But secrets have a way of unraveling, of demanding to be heard. And so it was that on a fateful day, as danger once again loomed on the horizon, (Y/N) found herself entangled in a web of peril. In that moment, as I witnessed the threat closing in, a clarity washed over me—a realization that the truth could no longer be hidden.

Without hesitation, I donned my mask and swung into action, navigating the chaos to reach (Y/N) in her moment of need. As I fought to keep her safe, a new layer of vulnerability settled upon me.

In the aftermath of the battle, when the dust settled and the danger subsided, (Y/N) looked at me with a mixture of surprise, confusion, and awe. It was a defining moment—a juncture at which the path before us diverged into uncharted territory.

As I reflect upon the journey that led me to saving (Y/N), my girlfriend, I am reminded of the fragility of secrets and the transformative power of trust. While I had chosen to shield her from the truth, I now understand that true love can only thrive in an environment of honesty and openness. Our relationship, once built on the foundation of shared experiences and unspoken admiration, now had the potential to flourish in the light of truth.

In Which He Confesses His Secret:

The night was filled with a palpable tension as I swung through the city streets, adrenaline coursing through my veins. The battle had been fierce, but I had emerged victorious once again, saving the life of the girl who had captured my heart—(Y/N). Now, as I carried her safely in my arms, I knew the time had come to reveal the truth—the truth about who I truly was and the extraordinary powers that coursed through my veins.

It was an evening tinged with both trepidation and anticipation as I made my way to (Y/N)'s home. The weight of my secret had burdened me for far too long, and I knew that the time had come to unmask the hero within. As I landed gracefully on the rooftop, my heart pounded with a mixture of fear and hope. Would she understand? Would she accept me, not just as Miles Morales but as Spider-Man?

Taking a deep breath, I entered through (Y/N)'s window, my heart racing as I gently set her down on her bed. She stirred slightly, the remnants of the ordeal still etched on her face, but her eyes flickered open, capturing my gaze. It was in that moment, with the moonlight casting a soft glow on her face, that I knew I had to share my truth, no matter the consequences.

Sitting beside her, I reached out and took her hand, the warmth of her touch grounding me in the reality of our connection. With a mixture of apprehension and determination, I began to reveal the secrets that had defined my life.

"(Y/N), there's something I need to tell you," I started, my voice tinged with emotion. "I'm not just an ordinary guy. I have a secret—a secret that I've kept from you for far too long."

As the words tumbled from my lips, I watched her face contort in a blend of confusion and surprise. It was a daunting task, trying to explain the intricacies of my life as both Miles Morales and Spider-Man, but I pressed on, determined to be honest with her.

"I'm Spider-Man," I confessed, the weight of the revelation hanging heavily in the air. "I have these incredible powers that allow me to do things that seem impossible. The city is my responsibility, and I've dedicated myself to protecting it."

Her eyes widened as she absorbed the enormity of my revelation. The pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place, and a mixture of disbelief and wonder played across her face.

"I've been the one watching over you, keeping you safe," I continued, my voice filled with both relief and vulnerability. "Every time danger threatened, I was there, fighting to protect you and everyone else in this city."

A myriad of emotions flickered in her eyes—surprise, awe, and a hint of fear. I held my breath, uncertain of how she would react to this truth that I had held so close to my heart.

"(Y/N), I understand if this is too much to process," I said gently, my voice filled with an unspoken plea for understanding. "But I needed to share this with you because you mean everything to me. You are the reason I fight, the reason I strive to be better. I couldn't bear to keep this secret from you any longer."

Silence settled between us, as the weight of my confession hung heavy in the air. The room felt charged with anticipation, the outcome of our future unknown.

And then, a smile played on (Y/N)'s lips—a smile that spoke of acceptance, understanding, and a willingness to embrace the truth. Her hand tightened around mine, and she looked into my eyes with a newfound resolve.

"Miles, I don't know exactly what to say, but I want you to know that I'm here for you," she said, her voice filled with a quiet strength. "You've been protecting me all this time, and I trust you. Your secret doesn't change how I feel about you."

Relief washed over me, like a gentle tide lapping against the shore. In (Y/N)'s eyes, I saw acceptance, love, and a belief in the person I was beneath the mask.

As the night wore on, we sat together, sharing stories and baring our souls. I explained to her how I had acquired my powers—the bite of a radioactive spider that had granted me extraordinary abilities. I told her about the responsibility I felt to use these powers for good, to protect the innocent, and to stand up for what was right.

In the depths of that conversation, I felt a deeper connection form between us. (Y/N) not only accepted me as Spider-Man but also embraced the duality of my life. She understood the sacrifices I made, the dangers I faced, and the unwavering commitment that fueled my actions.

In that moment, our love transcended the boundaries of the ordinary. (Y/N) saw the hero within me, not just the boy she had come to care for. She became a partner, a confidante, and a source of strength, sharing in the weight of my secret and supporting me on my journey.

As I reflect upon that pivotal moment when I revealed my true identity to (Y/N), I am reminded of the power of trust and the transformative nature of honesty. The journey from secrecy to vulnerability was not an easy one, but it forged a bond between us that was unbreakable. (Y/N) became not just my girlfriend but also my ally, standing by my side as we navigated the challenges that lay ahead.

Where His Parents Meet Her:

The day dawned with a mixture of excitement and nervousness as I prepared to introduce (Y/N), my girlfriend, to my parents. The time had come to bridge the gap between the two worlds that defined me—the world of my responsibilities as Spider-Man and the world of my family. This is the story of how (Y/N) and I embarked on the journey to meet my parents, a step that would weave the threads of our lives even closer together.

As I swung through the city, my mind was filled with anticipation and questions. Would my parents accept (Y/N)? Would they understand the complexities of my life and the sacrifices I made to keep the city safe? Bringing (Y/N) into my family's fold meant exposing her to a world that had long remained hidden from her—an intricately woven tapestry of love, support, and the weight of responsibility.

Arriving at my childhood home, I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the reunion. The door swung open, and my parents stood before me, their eyes filled with a mixture of surprise and joy. They welcomed me with open arms, their love serving as an anchor amidst the chaos of my double life.

And then, it was time for the moment I had been both anticipating and dreading—to introduce (Y/N) to my parents. She stood beside me, her hand clasped tightly in mine, as we stepped into the embrace of my family's warmth.

"(Y/N), these are my parents," I introduced her, a mix of pride and nerves in my voice. "Mom, Dad, this is (Y/N)."

Tension hung in the air as my parents' eyes flickered between (Y/N) and me. They studied her, taking in the gentle smile on her lips and the spark of curiosity in her eyes. It was as if they were searching for something deeper—a connection that extended beyond mere appearances.

"(Y/N), it's wonderful to finally meet you," my mother said, breaking the silence. Her voice was filled with warmth and genuine interest. "Miles has told us so much about you."

Relief washed over me as my parents extended their hospitality, inviting us into their home. The anxiety I had carried with me began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of comfort and belonging.

Over the course of the evening, stories were shared, laughter filled the air, and the divide between my life as Miles Morales and my life as Spider-Man began to blur. My parents listened with rapt attention as (Y/N) spoke about her passions, her dreams, and her unwavering support for me. It was in those moments that I saw the acceptance in their eyes—the recognition that (Y/N) was not just another girl in my life but someone who had become an integral part of it.

As the evening wore on, my parents began to share stories of my childhood, of my dreams of making a difference in the world even before I had acquired my powers. They spoke of their pride in the person I had become, of their unwavering support for my endeavors, both as their son and as Spider-Man.

In the depth of those conversations, (Y/N) witnessed the love that my parents had showered upon me throughout the years���a love that extended beyond the masks we wear and the responsibilities we shoulder. They saw me for who I truly was, and in their acceptance of (Y/N), they acknowledged the significance she held in my life.

The evening came to a close, and as (Y/N) and I prepared to leave, my parents pulled us into a warm embrace, their words of love and encouragement lingering in the air. It was a bittersweet moment, as the tapestry of our lives became more intertwined, merging the worlds of family and love.

In the days and weeks that followed, (Y/N) and I reflected on the significance of that meeting—the introduction of my girlfriend to my parents. We marveled at the seamless way our lives had merged, the way (Y/N) had seamlessly become a part of my family. We reveled in the acceptance and love that had been extended to her, knowing that our relationship had gained an even deeper foundation.

As I reflect upon the journey that led (Y/N) to meet my parents, I am reminded of the power of connection and the beauty that exists when our different worlds collide. (Y/N) became not just my girlfriend but a part of my family—a testament to the depth of our love and the bond we shared. Our relationship transcended the boundaries of individuality, weaving together the tapestry of our lives with threads of acceptance, support, and shared values.

In the chapters to come, dear reader, I invite you to witness the evolution of our relationship—the triumphs, the trials, and the delicate balance between love, family, and the responsibilities I bear. Together, let us explore the power of acceptance, the strength that emerges from unity, and the profound connection that lies at the heart of a love that spans across worlds.

In Which He Meets The Parents:

The sun hung low in the sky as (Y/N) and I made our way to her childhood home. The air crackled with anticipation, mirroring the nervous energy coursing through my veins. It was a pivotal moment in our relationship, as (Y/N) had invited me to meet her parents—a step that would bridge the gap between our two worlds. This is the story of how I embarked on a journey into the heart of (Y/N)'s family, navigating the unfamiliar terrain with a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

As we approached the front door, my heart pounded in my chest. Meeting parents was always a nerve-wracking experience, but this time, the stakes felt higher. (Y/N) held my hand, her touch providing a steadying presence amidst the jumble of emotions. We shared a glance, a mixture of determination and uncertainty reflected in our eyes, before ringing the doorbell.

The door swung open, revealing (Y/N)'s parents, their faces painted with curiosity and warmth. Their eyes landed on me, and I felt a surge of vulnerability. It was as if they were assessing not just the person standing before them, but the love and connection I shared with their daughter—a connection that had become an integral part of both our lives.

"(Y/N), it's so good to see you," her mother greeted with a smile, her voice filled with genuine warmth. "And you must be Miles. We've heard so much about you."

The knot in my stomach eased slightly as (Y/N)'s parents welcomed me into their home, their kindness enveloping me like a comforting embrace. As we settled into conversation, I began to understand the source of (Y/N)'s own light—the love and support that emanated from her parents.

Over the course of the evening, we shared stories and laughter, unraveling the layers of our lives and allowing the threads of connection to weave between us. I spoke of my dreams, my aspirations, and the lessons I had learned on my journey as Spider-Man. Their eyes shone with a mixture of intrigue and pride, recognizing the passion and determination that fueled my endeavors.

In turn, (Y/N)'s parents shared tales of her childhood—of her vibrant spirit, her unwavering resilience, and the love she had brought into their lives. It was in those stories that I saw the origins of the remarkable person (Y/N) had become—the strength and character that had drawn me to her.

As the evening wore on, (Y/N)'s parents posed questions, delving deeper into my life and my aspirations. They sought to understand the person standing before them—the one who had captured their daughter's heart. Their genuine curiosity and open-mindedness created a space in which I felt seen and accepted.

It was a pivotal moment when (Y/N)'s parents turned their attention to her, their expressions filled with a mix of tenderness and admiration.

"(Y/N), we can see the love you share with Miles," her father said, his voice filled with genuine emotion. "You've brought someone into our lives who is not just a part of your story but a part of our family. We're grateful for that."

The weight on my shoulders lifted as their words washed over me, filling me with a sense of belonging. (Y/N)'s parents not only acknowledged the significance of our relationship but embraced it, recognizing that our love had become a thread interwoven into the fabric of their lives.

In the days and weeks that followed, (Y/N) and I reflected on the significance of that meeting—the introduction of me to her parents. We marveled at the seamless way our lives had merged, the acceptance and love that had been extended to me. We reveled in the knowledge that our relationship had gained an even deeper foundation, strengthened by the embrace of (Y/N)'s family.

As I reflect upon the journey that led me to meet (Y/N)'s parents, I am reminded of the power of acceptance and the beauty that exists when two worlds collide. The connection between (Y/N) and me became not just a bond between two individuals but a bridge between families—a testament to the strength of our love and the shared values that united us.

In Which She’s His Canon Event:

Life is a tapestry woven with joy and sorrow, triumphs and tragedies. Within this intricate fabric, there are moments that shape our very existence—events that become part of our personal canon, forever etched in our hearts and minds. For me, that canon event was the profound impact of (Y/N), my girlfriend, whose presence in my life forever changed the trajectory of my journey. This is the story of how (Y/N) became my canon event, a force that shaped my world, and how her presence continues to resonate within me.

I first met (Y/N) amidst the bustling halls of Brooklyn Visions Academy, a beacon of light in the sea of faces. From the moment our eyes met, there was an unspoken connection—a pull that drew me closer to her. With time, our friendship grew, nurturing the seeds of something deeper, something extraordinary.

As our bond deepened, (Y/N) became my constant companion, the person I turned to for support, guidance, and understanding. We laughed together, shared dreams and fears, and explored the complexities of life side by side. In her presence, I found solace, comfort, and a kindred spirit who understood me in ways no one else could.

The love that blossomed between us became the foundation of my world—a beacon of light amidst the darkness that sometimes shrouded my path. With her unwavering support, I found the courage to face my challenges, to embrace my responsibilities as both Miles Morales and Spider-Man. She became my inspiration, my pillar of strength, and my reason to persevere.

But within the tapestry of life, there are threads of sorrow that weave alongside joy. It was during a fateful battle—a battle that demanded everything of me—that (Y/N) found herself in the crossfire. The weight of the moment settled upon my shoulders, igniting a fire within me to protect her at all costs.

As I fought with every ounce of strength, I watched in horror as (Y/N) was gravely injured. Time seemed to slow, the world fading into the background as I rushed to her side. With trembling hands, I cradled her in my arms, feeling the warmth of her fading presence.

The anguish that flooded my heart was immeasurable as I realized the magnitude of the situation. I pleaded, I fought, but ultimately, I had to accept the painful truth—(Y/N) was slipping away, her life slipping through my fingers.

In those final moments, I held her close, whispering words of love and gratitude. I thanked her for being my canon event, for lighting up my world, and for teaching me the power of love and connection. Her presence had forever changed me, leaving an indelible mark upon my soul.

As (Y/N) took her last breath in my arms, a part of me shattered—a part that could never be fully repaired. The pain of loss enveloped me, threatening to consume everything I held dear. I felt a profound emptiness, a void that echoed with her absence.

In the aftermath of (Y/N)'s passing, I faced the daunting task of navigating a world that suddenly seemed devoid of color and purpose. Grief wrapped its tendrils around me, threatening to suffocate my spirit. But within that darkness, a flicker of her memory shone brightly—a reminder of the love we shared, the moments we cherished, and the lessons she had imparted.

Though (Y/N) was no longer physically present, her legacy lived on within me. Her spirit became my guiding light, pushing me forward, urging me to carry on, even when the weight of the world felt unbearable. She became a part of my canon, a defining moment that shaped my perspective, my purpose, and my path.

[dogbunni]

(shakes my head like a dog flinging rainwater all over the kitchen cabinetry as it's owner yells in despair and grief) (several nendo headcanons fall out)

anyway

-nendo wears lynx africa. he sprays it liberally after every P.E lesson and saiki has actually teleported himself out of the boys locker room in full view of the whole class before because of this. no one noticed.

-he and kuboyasu engage in underage drinking once a month. kuboyasu has a good alcohol tolerance because of his delinquent past and nendo's tolerance is obscene because of his sheer size. they keep this a secret from the others because they don't want to be bad influences <3 (nendo cares about his buddies a lot and kuboyasu would rather die than see anyone else go down the same path he did)

-in a similar vein. kuboyasu is the one who has to buy the illicit alcohol, even though nendo could easily pass as being in his mid twenties. this is because the one time he tried buying the booze, he showed his real ID (unprompted) to the cashier instead of the fake one.

-despite the above blunder he is actually good at keeping his illegal monthly drinks night a secret. actually he is just weirdly good at keeping secrets.

-one by one everyone else realises that hey, nendo can actually keep a secret! and thats how he becomes the group confidante. kaido uses him like a therapist and he loves it bc his pal is getting all those hard feelings out and developing as a person and nendo gets to help!!!!!

-speaking of. nendo loves feeling helpful. he is aware that he's not the brightest so he likes when he can actually be useful to someone. sometimes this backfires and he accidentally makes a situation worse, but he makes up for it by being helpful without even trying to be. he probably should stop trying so hard. he does fine as he is. but everyone has their insecurities.

-he loves hanging out with saiki the best because he never feels pressure to be smart or a good conversationalist. sometimes he and saiki just lay on saiki's bedroom floor and eat a share bag of crisps each while staring silently at the ceiling. it's like a mental reset for nendo (for saiki it's about the level of socialisation he can just about enjoy before it becomes overwhelming and bothersome)

-he likes watching animal documentaries

-he does not like riding on kuboyasu's motorcycle, queasy-drunk and full of bad ramen, going 20 over the limit (kuboyasu was sober, he would never drive drunk, they just overestimated how much alcohol they had and nendo drank it all)

-nendo spends a lot of his free time Practicing Things. not things like doing his homework or niche skills but things like. how to cook. how to clean a bathroom without creating chlorine gas. how to fix a washing machine that's making a clunk sound. how to take care of house plants. how to start a herb garden. how to put together ikea furniture. how to do a weekly grocery shop without breaking the bank. he knows he won't be able to get a smarty-pants job, and that's fine, because he doesn't want one. he wants to be a house husband. and he takes his training seriously.

-he loves cute things like hello kitty. he doesn't own any sanrio stuff because he is a little embarrassed about liking it. but sometimes if he sees a hello kitty plush in a shop he will stand there and hold it gently for a while.

-he wants SO MANY kids when he grows up. he wants to be a soccer mom. he wants a mini van full of mini nendo's. the world may not survive it.

-he loves ramen the same way saiki loves coffee jelly. he lives and dies for ramen. so sometimes when it's just saiki and nendo alone they'll look at each other and just get up. go their separate ways. buy their respective foodstuffs. come back. feast. all without exchanging a word. they're kindred spirits that way. boys who love their favourite food in a diagnosably autistic way.

-i do also headcanon nendo as autistic and adhd. he got diagnosed very young and his mother has told him, he just immediately forgot.

[cilil]

For the headcanon meme: Erestor + ☆☠☼ൠ

Alrighty then! About time I talked about my boy Erestor again on this blog, appreciate the opportunity🖤

☆ - happy headcanon

So I see Erestor as a more reserved person in general, which fortunately or unfortunately (your choice) also applies to situations like him showing affection to the people he loves and cares about. Instead he'll express himself in more subtle ways. For example there may be a warmer, more intimate tone to his letters and notes to someone (sometimes even turned into carefully folded origami animals), longer and more casual conversations during which he'll share things that are currently on his mind or recent events he found amusing or just small acts of service that show he's paying extra attention to someone's needs.

☠ - angry/violent headcanon

On the flipside, the aforementioned reserved attitude also comes into play when Erestor doesn't like someone or something upset him. His anger is a quietly simmering thing. Sometimes there isn't even a "straw that broke the camel's back" or blow up moment either and he'll just distance himself from the person who hurt or upset him without having a direct conversation about it.

People not familiar with Erestor sometimes confuse the "not knowing him yet" state with this, thinking that he doesn't like them for whatever reason or has something against them. The fact that he can be stubborn if he wants to doesn't help matters either.

☼ - appearance headcanon

I see Erestor as someone who enjoys the "elegant but plain" aesthetic. He's always well-dressed and well-groomed, but never extravagant, opting for simple braids, relatively mono-colored outfits and few pieces of jewelry to name some examples. Next to our dignified lord Elrond and pretty, sparkly Glorfindel in particular he can look a little wallflower-y in terms of presenting himself.

This does, of course, not take away from his pretty features, it's just that he prioritizes other things and is in the unfortunate position of being surrounded by incredibly charismatic people.

ൠ - random headcanon

For this, I'm going to share some thoughts relating to the "Erestor son of Caranthir and Haleth" headcanon. I don't know who originally came up with that one, so best I can do is give a little shout-out to my good friends @i-did-not-mean-to and @maglor-my-beloved for telling me about it.

With that out of the way - in this scenario, Erestor would be a Peredhel and therefore receive the choice which kindred he wants to belong to. My current idea is that he wasn't aware of this until he met Elrond and learned of his and Elros' sundered fates. Erestor, however, had his mind made up long before this: When he thinks of his childhood, he distinctly remembers how melancholic Caranthir would often be, especially after Haleth passed away, and he doesn't want to leave his loved ones behind like that, even if immortality can become a heavy burden to bear. Elrond's story would then only serve to reinforce a decision he's subconsciously made years ago and, if it isn't already, it would become final when he sais west with the others.

I suppose this would also add an interesting layer to him accompanying Arwen to her wedding.

[babydxhl]

👫

send a 👫 and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse���s relationship.

mary was one of the first to accept gia's whole """deal""" and she's one of the only ones who never questions the puppet. she's not saying she gets it, but there are worse schticks in gotham

without fail when they see each other she will have some little trinket for lucia. obvs there's a part of her that thinks it's just good business practice, keeping whatever business arrangements they have going running smoothly, but there's another (unacknowledged, NOBODY ask about it) that sees a little blonde proxy daughter w a scary mother and is like 'yes. i see the vision. i don't want to discuss why this makes me feel faintly sick and dizzy sometimes'

I like your little note in your bio re gia wanted to be an actress when she was younger and having this privileged upbringing and I think it would be v cool if they had crossed paths a veryyyyy long time ago. in waiting rooms for auditions, etc, mary and her mother sitting opposite a girl a few years older and sensing some vague kind of kindred spirit there

similar tastes in jewellery/bags/clothing/etc, often when they need to talk business on the sly they'll go to a department store and talk in half-truths and metaphors as they pass from counter to counter

[anihilist]

character study and analysis: frank morrison (2/?) + legion.

in my portrayal of legion, frank meets julie the same way. everything unfolds for them in a canon-compliant sort of way, he meets julie first - then her friends and while in my portrayal, frank certainly bonds with her in a way he hadn't with any else, frank didn't love julie.

frank felt that he and julie were something like kindred spirits but in a professional, almost, sort of way instead. frank liked that they shared the same interests and felt the same way about the world and ormond. frank was more obsessed and fixated with the idea of building 'legion' with julie than he was actually obsessed and fixated with her. this is because frank can't establish an emotional bond.

frank + murder:

my portrayal of frank, he has always combatted and struggled with homicidal ideations. it started in middle school for him and persisted through out high school, it was something intimate he dealt with and didn't tell anyone about - until he met julie.

he expressed these thoughts and ideations by getting them out on paper, keeping a bunch of spiral and composition notebooks with graphic details and drawings of murder. when they were filled, he would burn them. frank has always had a fascination with murder to the point that it, obviously, it consumed his mind and thoughts. however, frank never felt like it was something he would actually do - nor did he feel like it was something he could do.

this small portion of headcanons is drawn from the canon below.  ↓ 

"What does that mean? Something real?" Julie goes quiet for a moment. She's not sure what she's thinking or if she's thinking at all but… she wants to feel the thrill she's read about in books. She wants to be more than common. More than ordinary. Bigger than life. Frank smiles at her and asks if she thinks she could kill someone. She thinks for a moment. "I could." Frank raises a skeptical eyebrow. After a moment he says he probably couldn't really kill someone. Julie teases him. "Not even for me?" He shakes his head. "Not even for you. And you? Would you kill for me?" She echoes his bullshit answer. "Never." He laughs and echoes her. "Not even for me?" ... "Not even for you."

frank manipulates julie with false love and affection, (much like billy did with sidney in scream, for reference) and julie also manipulated frank, since, frank doesn't and can't emotionally bond and julie would of noticed this and questioned it, she asks if he would kill for her. this leads frank to feeling like he has to kill for julie to prove to her that he 'loved' her, though, he clearly didn't, but he cared about what they built; the legion, (which frank couldn't have without julie, since they were julie's friends and not frank's) so, he waits for the opportunity to present itself.

when the murder happened, it was out of impulse one night, instead of waiting for an opportunity. when frank saw the reactions to legion (shock, disbelief, fear, grief, etc) frank felt this like it was a betrayal almost. since they had done every other crime together, he felt that murder shouldn't have been any different - this is due to his disregard for morals - something that julie and her friends still had despite crimes committed and something frank didn't understand and thus, created a divide among the group.

this is why frank has julie and her friends finish the murder, it was no longer his kill for her but rather their kill and frank was acting out on revenge by this rate, which can happen just that quickly, in the heat of a moment, since he 'chose' to care with fluctuating empathy. * i also headcanon, though, that frank's inner turmoil with murder and whether he could actually kill someone or not was also a core reason behind him leaving julie and her and friends to finish off the janitor.

^ that is the most important parts to my portrayal for frank because i give him inner turmoils with it all. it is very important in my portrayal, that, they all stabbed the janitor together. it is heavily implied in canon for a reason and frank would of wanted them all to stab the janitor.

due to his lack of empathy and feelings, he was able to resolve the situation quickly and keep them all level - headed in acting quick to rid the evidence.

[captain-azoren]

Idea(s) for Tekken 9;

Set after the events of 8, Paul and/or Law invite several of the other fighters, primarily the younger competitors, to do some cross-discipline training. The ones who show up are Hwoarang, Asuka, Lili, Steve (possibly more like Leroy or Azucena, but these are the main ones). Asuka wants to improve after being beaten by Feng, Lili is there to bug Asuka mainly, Hwoarang thought Jin would show up, and Steve wants to get more used to fighting other styles.

Reina shows up as well, unexpectedly as no one had seen her after the battle in Yakushima. She keeps up her friendly facade from before. Reina came looking for Jin, but takes a strange interest in Steve. They had all met during the events of 8 but now everyone has a chance to get more acquainted.

After a while Steve gets a feeling of deja vu when he and Reina spar. Reina eventually reveals that she knows him from the Mishima Zaibatsu's Devil Gene project, as she was a test subject like him.

Whereas Steve got out, she did not, yet still survived. Reina is indeed Heihachi's offspring, in the sense that Heihachi's DNA was used to create her. Reina was raised to admire and worship Heihachi, but rarely ever actually interacted with him. While it was believed that they failed to splice the devil gene into her body, Reina still showed great battle prowess and so was allowed to live, being groomed to be a loyal soldier to Heihachi.

Steve was one of Reina's only friends during her early years, and since he escaped she's wanted to get him back, wanting him to join her in her plan to take over the MZ. This is also why she wants Nina to work with her, so she can get Steve and Nina to actually reunite and bond, as a kind of misguided present to Steve.

There's not a lot to go off of for Reina as of now, and I still need to see all character endings, but I could kind of see a need for some kind of family unit and her trying to sort of craft one through taking over the MZ, trying to bring the rest of the Mishima family in (except for Kazuya and Jun, judging from her ending and post battle dualogues).

I can kind of see Reina disliking Asuka simply because of Asuka's Kazama bloodline being able to supress the devil gene and therefore being a threat. I would like to see Reina be Asuka's new rival/nemesis to try to make her more relevant to the main plot, while Lili can be her more casual rival in the way Hwoarang is to Jin.

Hwoarang I'd like to see follow a cause that's greater than just beating his rivals. I'd kind of like to see him and Lili interact, if only because I think they'd have an even greater contrast than her and Asuka. Hwoarang is the kind of street thug that Asuka deals with in her hometown, but actually a really good fighter.

I'd actually really like to see the young blood fighters form a kind of friendly social group; Jin, Xiaoyu, Hwoarang, Steve, Reina, Asuka, and Lili. Throw in Leo and Azucena too since they have some connections. There are plenty of characters in that age range that could fit, but these are the ones I could see together without much pretense.

Jin will be just trying to enjoy some peace and quiet hanging out with Xiaoyu, but he would eventually get dragged into the new conflict. I think Reina would have mixed feelings about Jin, maybe seeing him as a kindred spirit, maybe disappointed he wanted to destroy the devil gene, but she offers him the chance to join her new MZ.

Back to Steve, I'd also want him to finally encounter Anna, maybe when Anna tries to kill Nina. I know a lot of fans want Anna to care for Steve as a way to spite Nina, but I think that Anna would care for Steve because she would see him as family, and Anna seems to be a lonely person in need of some familial affection. It's kind of something Steve wanted from Nina as well.

So familial bonds would be a common theme between Reina and Steve, at least according to my headcanon. Reina adores a father she never actually knew, Steve wanted to know who his blood relatives were, Anna wants a normal family, etc.

Not quite sure how things would really play out; Reina would probably try to do what Heihachi, Kazuya, and Jin before her did by trying to build her own empire and crushing those who stand in her way. There'd be fighting and so forth, people taking sides, etc. Nina would probably join Reina and Steve and Anna could team up to oppose them.

I could see the conflict resolving with Jin and Steve having some kind of heart-to-heart with Reina about living for herself and not what Heihachi would have wanted. Reina is very different from most Midhimas in that she's trying to carry on her father's will rather than tear diwn what he built. They'd have to convince her that it isn't worth it, that Heihachi wouldn't have cared for her either way, that she needs to stop chasing his ghost and decide what she really wants for herself, to be more than just a weapon and to break free of the Mishima's bloody legacy. Asuka can be the one to cleanse Reina of the devil gene. She SHOULD be the one.

I'd like to see Steve sort of passing on the care that Leo's mom Emma showed him, have him realize that Emma would always be more of a mother to him than Nina could. He should treat Leo like a younger sibling. Dunno if Anna can ever forgive Nina for killing her fiancé, but she could find family in Steve and move on with her life in that respect. I'm not opposed to shipping her with Lee, if it's done super playfully, almost in a Morticia and Gomez Adams sort of way.

Anyway, that's some of what I'd like to see in future Tekkens.

[empressxmachina]

"Kindred Spirit to a Kind Hand" by me (Also on DA)

"This looks familiar." No, it doesn't. One cannot be obsessed with media they've never personally interacted with. Right? 😅

Anyway, when I'm not going gaga over clips and let's-plays of the goated DnD game and the camp vamp in it (and everyone else, really, but mostly him because DUH) or watching the VAs play the game they're in, I'm re-reading the fanfics of the game from various, based lovelies here - you know who you are, and thank you for existing - and imagining only tangentially related scenes like this.

(Some headcanons and the stock references under the cut.)

My initial vision for this was that some person - this person, the player character, if you will - pissed somebody off to get cursed with a size reduction, horns where their eyes should be, and other 'weaknesses,' likely with some magic, too, if the Intimidation stat actually means something in their state. However, the idea that they had/have always been like this and have been surviving amidst their mutations, rarities, etc., fits into my ever-growing cache of underdog protagonists, which could work, too. In any case, in this 'I Have No Eyes and I Must Cry'-ass tale, the small soul crosses paths or gets caught in the crossfire of and maybe even rescued by a (certain, with similar 'deformity') swordsman with a good heart as open as, well, the hand in the pic. 

For all intents and purposes, I have a few more ideas on similar lines to this, maybe even doing more with this character/model. If I come to create them, I'm thinking to put them together in a gallery/group called "Spoiled Homebrew" or something like that. Get it? Homebrew? D&D? Beer? I'll leave.

Shadow [Devil] Money Gang ~Autodesk Sketchbook ~Photopea ~~FYI: The font used here is Quando if you're curious. It's a close fit and it's free. Like the Hells I'm paying $88 or whatever to get the actual font used. ~[helping hand] "Helping hands reaching charity gesture" - Image by rawpixel.com on Freepik ~little and languished ~blade in the back ~[grassy bg] "Forest landscape" by Mircea Iancu is in the Public Domain, CC0

Circa 2023... extremely barely by an hour or so before 2024.

- The goal was to make this quite coded without being the reference, mostly for copyrights. Though if one's headcanon somehow works well enough with this and him to imagine such a scene in-game or inspire something else, then I'm flattered. - I've no clue how small they are; I just get giddy when a small soul can be fully handheld. - Really, though, could you imagine being able or having to cry in silence without tears? Just chest heaving, chills, and a weakening desire to live? Oof. Now, that sounds familiar. 🙃 (Not me; I'm thriving with pride.)

[mekanikaltrifle]

I also like the idea of toreador changing against their will as time goes on. Beauty standards change, and as they transcend the will of sire, they change with them.

A toreador that was once pudgy and stout becomes skinny as a rail

A toreador that was skinny becomes a statuesque Adonis

Toreador growing unibrows and distended lips and large earlobes. Gaining and losing hair and all the while their sense of self distorts

I would imagine the extremely vain ones wouldn't care (or at least convince themselves that they don't) but this would be extremely damaging for a lot of them, driving them further into inhumanity and alienation

(also the whole symbolically changing thing makes them more congruent with their Laibon bloodline, the Ishtarri)

the core of the horror there being the fact they can never truly keep their sense of who they were in life (a fact that all Kindred have to deal with, but some more than others) is always A+ and while I prefer the idea of keeping it pinned to the bastard that did this to you... any variant where it's an affliction of some sort is always in the spirit of the thing.

One or two addenda and takes added to my original post added statements like 'I would make it not the Sire's will but actually some common consensus thing' (a la Mage's Consensus I assume), or like adding commentary about the Volgirre offshoot (they're very apt for the headcanon), and while that's interesting... I think further driving the stake of helplessness in the face of inhuman cruelty in. That's kinda the point of the Kindred.

To be Kindred isn't to be just inhuman, it's to be a former human who (usually) had little say in the matter. Something else took it upon itself to change you, and even if you thought you knew what you were getting into, you never truly know how deep the damnation goes until it's seeped inexorably into your very cells and changed you from the soul outwards. It's never an accident. It's always someone else's doing.

And the idea of constantly going through shifts, while still also remaining frozen in some way (never aging past the point you died, never able to really permanently change anything about yourself without either insane Tremere magics or insane Tzimisce fleshcrafting or both), that's a truly Toreador pain.

And the addition of the Ishtarri... interesting thought. In a way that Legacy is somewhere between the Toreador and the Nosferatu, being the beautiful, dangerous hedonists who can get you your vice however you like it. There's no prize that can justify what they'll do to you if you get ensnared (like the Setites...), but aren't they just that alluring enough to make it seem worthwhile...?

And yet they too endure the whims of their vices, and how that changes them. Sad creatures, at the end of the day (or night :D)