#shadow headcanon

[the-sinister-story-teller]

Headcanons Collage!!

A/n: Sorry I've been gone for so long, I'm going through a lot with MANY projects to complete! I may not be doing requests, so I'm sorry to those who have requested, I apologize deeply! In regards to this, her is a collection of random character headcanons!

Prompt: n/a

Mentions: GN Reader, overall fluff.

-He is SO loving in the relationship. Like, we are talking constant compliments, PDA, everything.

-If you're NOT into PDA, he's very respectful of it. Just expect 5x more compliment and gifts!

-Loves matching outfits between you, him, and nuggets.

-He cooks italian foods consistently for you, but also loves eating your cooking just as much.

-If you're asexual, he also respects that.

-Wasn't sure how you'd react to knowing his a p***star, so he was anxious to tell you at first. Realizing you didn't care and already knew, he calmed down a LOT.

-He flirts, a lot.

-He's oblivious to what you need, neglectful at times even.

-Though, despite this, he still cares and works more to meet ends meet for your sake.

-Definitely isn't used to being spoiled by you, and is very grateful but is difficult to spoil.

-He tries to spoil you, but isn't very good at it...You appreciate him though.

-Compliment him, it boosts his ego and oh my god he adores it.

-He wasn't vocal about the relationship at ALL.

-You took it slow, knowing he wasn't vocal or big on affection.

-Granted, he complimented you every now and then, and that was enough to make your stomach flutter.

-He gets jealous easily, despite not being affectionate towards you. The one time he actually showed PDA, is when he held your hand while someone was getting too close to you for his liking.

-Really wasn't touchie at first

-He wasn't into PDA or anything at first, but if you're feeling insecure, he does give you words of affirmation.

-He isn't nglectful, but he isn't too sweet.

-He is clingy once he gets attached to you though, due to Maria.

[true-squid]

provide a shadow lesbian moment :)

Ok so due to PROJECT "SHADOW": APOCALYPSE, Shadow eventually teaches himself how to read his own code (with DREAM's help). This is a thing DREAM teaches him after he finds out about it in order to help him deal with learning about the fact that Gerald programmed him to become worse and worse over time. DREAM figured that if they could figure out how to manipulate the code themselves, they could just stop Shadow from changing any more than he already has.

This is not what Shadow did.

He learned how to edit his own code and then started playing flash dressup game with himself.

Basically imagine you have a flash game and Shadow is the default girl and then you can add things to her like scales and horns and a third eye and wings and a long tail and extra fur and etc. By the time Shadow and DREAM find out about APOCALYPSE, most of the drastic physical changes to Shadow's body have already occured. (There are a few other ones that are less physical, but this isn't about them rn this is about GOGIRLSGAMES DRESSUP.) So Shadow and DREAM first do the practical thing and shut off future changes. Like, there's one that renders Shadow's voicebox unable to produce human language and thats fucking terrifying to Shadow so he shuts it off.

And then he realizes that he can turn off changes that have already occured, like his horns or his scales or his third eye, and this gets him really excited. It's one of the rare times where he like, literally wags his tail he is so excited about this. So he starts messing around with it and envisioning his ideal self. At first this is just his old self, like his canon design, but its so strange, because soon he realizes he actually misses things like his long tail or his extra fur, and that actually at this point the third eye is a necessity that he can't not have (or else Doom's Eye gets a lil weird) so he goes back to them.

In his euphoria and self-loathing, Shadow forgets something very important. Undergoing every stage of APOCALYPSE's transformation in the first place really fucking hurt. Because growing extra bones and rapidly increasing the rate at which your body changes is, you know, painful and not what your body expects, and Shadow already suffers from chronic pain on top of this. So he accidentally sends his body into the same kind of physical shock he felt the first time.

So now some days he'll wake up and be like "hm today is a horn day" for whatever reason and go into his programming and change the code and then spend the rest of the day in a fucking pain coma while they grow in. He's really fucking dramatic about it too he makes DREAM sit with him all day so he can go comatose in her lap and she can hold him cuz that's where he feels safest (they are wives).

It's usually not painful when he turns off a physical trait, because chances are it'll just fall off. Like, his horns fall off like a deer's horns would and the skin where they used to be is a little raw so he might but a bandage there until it closes up, but it doesn't hurt like a dagger piercing through his flesh, you know?

He likes to make himself fluffier and also give himself more breathing holes because those two things help with The Horrors. He will grab onto his fur and brush it when DREAM isn't around to stim with and having more breathing holes makes it easier to calm down when he's panicking. Everything is not finw but at least Shadow can play flash dressup with himself.

[samethstarr]

Bonus Shadow headcanon:

If Shadow could go back in time and redo the Ark incident, he wouldn't change anything.

He wasn't able to escape GUN on his own, so even if Maria hadn't been shot she'd likely be very weak from both the stress of escaping and adjusting to Earth's gravity with her sickness. They had no chance of getting away, even if they made it to Earth and Maria would need medical attention.

It's very likely that, even if Maria survived, she would have been captured as a hostage to use against Gerald.

She'd waste away knowing that the people she loves are doing horrible things because of her.

There was NO chance of survival for her, there wasn't a single thing he could have done differently to make things any better.

[puppetmaster13u]

Y'know sometimes I wonder what Ras reaction was to the Justice League. Like he practically offered Bruce the chance to be one of his generals, straight up offered for him to be his heir, and was turned down.

Do you think he's offended. Because oh, so his organization isn't good enough, but that merry band of idiots is?!

[starry-bi-sky]

I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt

“Woah. You look like shit."

Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.

The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.

"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."

And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.

The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.

If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.

"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.

"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.

"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.

The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.

He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."

There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.

"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."

Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"

"Daniel? Is that you?"

His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.

[ruviart]

Valid reason

[major-wren]

yk how when a dog is raised in a really small space, it'll pace in endless circles even after years have passed and even when there's enough space? Yeah, that but with Shadow. I imagine the Lab section of the ARK wasn't very huge, or was full of fragile glass and tech anyway.

Bonus:

[tsubomiiiii]

Sorry I haven’t been exactly active on here, I keep forgetting I have tumblr lmao

Have some stylized designs for the blorbs :] planning to do more

[clownputo]

Someone help this poor girl

Fun fact: a good chunk of animals are colorblind with hedgehogs being said to not see red well

[insiemes]

Kaz Brekker, bastard of the Barrell, Dirtyhands being described in everyone else’s chapters

Kaz Brekker, during his own chapters internally simping over Inej Ghafa

[elsa-fogen]

Smile

He did it himself. He would. absolutely.

radiorose continuation

[url-is-url]

So, the headcanon that ghosts fight to socialize, and also to teach baby ghosts how to use their powers, right?

Johnny 13 is in Gotham. No particular reason, he's just hanging out. He manages to goad the day shift bat kid into a motorcycle race! Fuck yeah, what's better than harassing high school aged superheroes?! Anyway, he and this kid are tearing up the streets and the kid whips out some crazy fucking shadow powers. Um? What happened to Batman doesn't like metas??? (Obviously Batman isn't actually prejudiced against metas, he just logically doesn't want to deal with superpowers + fear toxin and shit, but... his PR could use some work on this front...) Well then, Johnny has crazy fucking shadow powers too, so OBVIOUSLY he needs to compare notes with the yellow kid. By escalating.

Duke Thomas is having a No Good Very Bad Week. This crazy blond dude on a bike is TESTING HIS PATIENCE. And is a total bad luck magnet, the ONLY reason nobody's gotten killed by their chases is that Duke can see when something terrible is about to happen just in time to prevent the crazy coincidence of the moment. Also he can drive through walls? Duke learned that he can take his bike through shadows, that's pretty cool, but this whole situation is still very frustrating. HE IS TOO YOUNG TO HAVE A NEMESIS!!! He asks Babs to run some facial recognition magic and the only match is some guy who died in a motorcycle wreck like twenty years ago??? Duke compiles a file to present to the Batfam, fully expecting them to call him crazy when he explains his theory that his nemesis is a ghost.

Batman: That tracks actually. I've dealt with a dead highwayman who calls himself Gentleman Ghost, and there's a ghost on call with the League. Here, have some nth metal gear, it's ghost proof, good investigating :)

Duke: *TheSignal.exe has stopped working*

Duke finally manages to catch his ghost guy! He goes to question him about why he feels a need to be such a nuisance.

Johnny 13, grinning, not answering shit: Hey, you guys are detectives or whatever right? Have you ever tried hiding in the shadows under someone's clothes to stalk them?

Duke: ***TheSignal.exe has stopped working***

Duke: WELL NOW I'M GONNA

[dasiesanddarkness]

headcanon that Kaz consistently breaks into the Van Eck house just to steal little things. Wylan's favorite pen. one sock from every pair Jesper has. Marya's most recent painting. a family heirloom Jesper says is hideous. Wylan's flute. Jesper's favorite (and most hideous) shirt. etcetera.

it happens so often that eventually if something goes missing they just assume it's Kaz's fault and go down to the Slat or the Crow Club to get it back. Kaz claims it's to "keep them humble" when in actuality it's his way of getting them to come visit him because he's lonely and misses them (especially Jesper).

when Kaz stole Wylan's favorite pen Wylan and Jesper were busy and couldn't go get it so they sent a servant instead and Kaz insisted he had no idea what they were talking about and that he'd never do such a thing. then Wylan and Jesper showed up later and Kaz was sitting at his desk writing with the pen.

[shadow-von-vamp]

shadow has one of these

[lunarw0rks]

I feel like Graves would end up with a really soft and innocent s/o just because he loves being the 'strong man' lol and even though they're maybe even smaller than him all sweet and shy- he is absolutely whipped for them! Especially if they can cook and be a lil housemaker for him??

♡♡♡ warning(s): nsfw + sfw, fem!reader

─── graves and his homemaker s/o ❤︎₊ ⊹

there's no one on earth more loved and adored by him, despite the stigma surrounding the dynamic you two have. he doesn't pay any mind to their judgements. in his heart, he knows how tender he is with you behind closed doors. and in yours, he hopes.

you never pictured it to end up this way. before, you were like any adult. busting your ass at work, ending each week exhausted and struggling to buy yourself groceries.

and then you met him. chivalrous and borderline self-obsessed. but you weren't being patronized when he acted with traditional courtesy. you weren't a body to be claimed or a trophy to hang on his arm.

you were merely his. all his within months of meeting, and that meant you were to be taken care of. spoiled rotten, some would say. what better way to have it? compared to your old life of hardship, it was paradise.

everything paid for, without a second of hesitation. what little savings you had idle in your bank account, untouched when he's around.

he can and will take care of you — in every way. it's in graves' nature to provide.

no different than he does for his men, only you've been appointed the privilege of seeing the gentler side of him, when the uniform of a commander is rid of his scarred body.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈nsfw under the cut!

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙˖⁺₊˚⊹♡ it's only fair, to be taken care of in every way possible. you've been so good to him, so good for him, right? there's no quicker way to his heart, than someone who enjoys being smothered with his praise.

what better sight, than opening the door and seeing you concerning with such trivial things. he spent the day making life or death decisions, and you're there; concerned with which centerpiece looks best on the dining table. some men would see it as a means for competition, or a degrade — but graves finds it irresistible.

the house smells divine; your scented candles, the fragrance you spritz, and whatever you have baking in the oven. he can practically feel the tension leave his shoulders, how his senses come alive when greeted with the comfort of your shared home.

you've dressed nice for him again, though he always gave no pressure for you to do so. clothes to match the summer heat, hair styled and pinned back to stay out of the way.

you, in your domestic, relaxed state — the one thing better than all the trivial pleasures in life, better than the house you were both standing in.

though you usual greet him, you're immersed in the centerpiece debate. you hold the two pieces up to him, "do you think I should go with the silver candle candleholders? or how about the brass ones?" it's a genuine question, but it's only met with an amused scoff — a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

graves sets aside his luggage, stepping closer to you and your very concentrated gaze. "why do you ask me, sweetheart? it's up to you. and if you don't like 'em, we'll go buy more." he examines the decor in your hands briefly, but his eyes end up back on you permanently.

"just want it to look nice in here," you sigh at his dismissal, turning away to resume contemplation. "we have that supper planned in a few weeks, don't we?" you add, setting the options back on the oak table.

as if the place could be more meticulously decorated. there was barely a trace of him in this house, except for his nightstand and office. you had free reign to adjust the home to your taste, considering you were the one who spent most of your time there.

a gentle chuckle rang from him, followed by a click of his tongue, "don't think it can get much nicer in here, darlin'. i reckon you've left a touch on just about every inch of place, haven't you?" you shoot a flustered look, even though his words are truthful.

it was a silly dilemma, considering not a soul would be criticizing your centerpiece decision. "oh, c'mon, don't do that face... my guys will eat anything you slide in front of them, you know that? could host the damn supper in the closet and you'd charm the daylights out of 'em." he says, soothing every worry down to a simmer rather than a hard boil.

he's definitely good at shutting you up. only, in the most embellished of ways. without fail, a charmed smile spread on your face — as did a surge of warmth. graves cupped one of your cheeks, running his thumb along it, "see? much better than a scowl. now, tell me, what's cooking?"

"you know the rules. i can't tell you until the timer beeps. besides, it's supposed to be a surprise." you replied, making a meek escape from his gentle grasp. displayed on the small screen; eight minutes remained.

with a hasty yank and then a stumble on your end, your back was against his chest. "i don't like surprises, do i?" you felt the sensation of his teeth nibbling along the side of your neck, all in the midst of his patterned kisses. when he was this close, he got deep whiffs of your intoxicating perfume, the freshly shampooed hair on your head, the detergent you insisted he buy. heart-stopping — like it was every time he pulled you close.

it was true, he hated them. the tickle of his lips made you squirm — a futile attempt to slip away and leave him hanging. that never worked, and you knew it. "we're down to five, time's a-wastin'."

somehow, someway, neither of you made it up the stairs this time. all he did to prepare was send the stacks of mail flying from the island; the one you found yourself sitting on. graves stood between your legs, his caressing fingers your means of preparation. though, by the times your legs were exposed to the breeze — you and your body were eager enough for him.

the minutes decreased no matter how hurriedly he moved, and he always stuck to his rules. if there was a time limit, he'd get it done before zero.

"been thinking about you all day," he breathes. "by the looks of it, you have too, sweetheart." his tip prodded at your slick entrance, while the other hand hooked around your thigh to keep it hiked up with ease. wasn't the first time he ravished you on the kitchen counters, it certainly wouldn't be the last. slowly at first, then all at once — he thrusted inside of you.

once he got situated, there was no stopping him. every rock of his hips was purposeful and deep, yet his kisses remained delicate and tender. your moans muffled against his mouth, his lips pinkish and coated with saliva as it roamed your warmed face.

soon, your back was flat against the island with your legs still hanging off and in his grip. with every methodical movement, your walls tightened around his length and edged him closer to a finish. by now, you were certain your appearance was faulty; either ruined by sweat or the constant hands graves had on you.

despite being close within the first few minutes, he had gotten carried away ogling you. your gasps, your squinted eyes, the teeth indents on your bottom lip from how harshly you sunk into it. however, now there wasn't any restraint left in him. the tight coil in his abdomen begged for release, no matter how much stamina that remained in his body.

as the clock struck zero, he bottomed out with the force of his whole body — spilling every last drop inside of you. the oven beeped three times, as if on cue.

a string of curses against your lips as he leaned down to kiss you, sneaking in a few sloppy thrusts afterward. "i'll make it up to you later, make it worth your while." he pecked along your jaw, adjusting the strap of your top that had slid down your arm.

"it was worth my while." you replied between catching your breath, voice still quivering slightly.

he chuckled, fingers still playing with the fabric, "so, what's cooking? have i earned my right to know?" he was right; you always told him once the meal was ready, and that's what it was right now. the aroma hit your nostrils, as intoxicating as he found yours.

your eyes flicked over to the digital screen, still flashing and urging you to remove the pan, then it beeped for a second round as a reminder. "just a roast your mom taught me. thought you would've recognized the smell by now." you uttered, tracing your fingers along his blond stubble.

"hm, something must've distracted me, darlin'," he ran a tongue along his bottom lip, now gazing with admiration rather than hunger.

then, his brow raised with interest. both in humor and intense dread he added, "you've been calling my mother?"

[orchideous-nox]

okay but imagine just before a full moon when Remus is all grumpy and short tempered and the other marauders are like "hey, hey! remember, werewolf not swearwolf" and make him put money in a swear jar for the next hogsmead trip