#you can claw this headcanon from my cold dead hands

[mybrainsrottingwithmcd]

My friend: So if you’re rewriting MCD and hated that Aarmau was endgame, who is Aphmau’s love interest going to be?

Me:….Love interest?

[melikedraw]

Headcanons for being the mate of harpy gaolang where s/o is human? hehe :> luv your art and I keep seeing you grow every post you make I know you'll reach far heights 💛

Harpy!Gaolang x human!Reader

Based on my au, reader has no specified gender

~~~~~

- he will give you pretty rocks,like how penguins do with their mates, and leave dead animal carcasses at your doorstep but don't throw them away in front of him, it'll hurt him deeply so pretend to be happy despite their blood staining your "welcome home" mat

- attempts to build a nest in your home, much to your dismay as you find twigs, branches and other stuff strewn over your bed one day

- he gets annoyed when you remove them as he doesn't understand that's not how people do it

- like "where will you lay your eggs without a nest???" sweetie... Humans don't lay eggs

- I think he would have an okayish knowledge on humans, but specifically human males because the only human he is close to is rama

- extremely curious about human anatomy, will lay in bed with you for ages just studying you, eyes roaming your body as he searches for all the differences between a harpy and a human

- doesn't like it when you wear clothes and finds the idea of wearing clothes strange

- he has quite the fixation towards seeing you naked and exploring your body, especially as he gets to know you more

- nothing sexual, honestly, it's just what he's used to, what he finds natural

- plus, he's very curious about you, you being a different species and all, it's easier for him to study if there's no pesky clothing blocking his view

- he'll have lots of questions for you too

- "aren't clothes uncomfortable?" "Are you cold without feathers?" "Your claws are small, how do you hunt?" That sort of stuff

- probably a little disgusted when he learns that humans give birth to babies instead of laying eggs like, ew a wet, bloody, crying mass of flesh? No thanks, I'll take the egg

- he's especially afraid of you freezing to death in the winter, since you can't migrate to warmer areas

- he'll even stay with you rather than migrate in order to make sure you don't die on your own, wrapping you up with his wings and everything

- puts in a lot of effort to understand how humans get into relationships, since it's quite different from harpies

- he will appreciate if you do so for him too, and the two of you meet in the middle where both you and him can date comfortably

- might I add, harpies have a sort of mating call + dance so don't be too surprised when he inevitably tries to woo you with that

- please don't get uncomfortable if he stares at you blankly with his soul piercing eyes, it's a habit of his, as a predator, to sort of lock their sights on their prey, in this case you

- he would never harm, hunt, or eat you, but he does want to focus all his attention on you, because you somehow captured his heart

- he'll try preening your hair, and wishes for you to do the same, straightening stray feathers and whatnot

- has no hands, so uses his mouth a lot, like if you ask him to pass you something, more often than not he'll use his teeth to hold it towards you

- has no concept of "dating" or "marriage". you accepted his pretty rock (probably by accident), you're him mate now

- there is also no concept of divorce, it's a "till death do us part" sort of thing for harpies, so good luck

~~~~~

Thank you for asking about him.... I love him sm .... Ily...

[laurancezvahlslefteyebrow]

SHADOW KNIGHT HEADCANONS

aka things from my rewrite

idea from @xerith-42 <- <- <-

————————————————————

Appearance:

They have pointed ears. They’re not as large as an elf’s or half elf’s ears, really just the size of a human’s ear… But pointed.

They’re skin sparkles. (Edward who?) Idk why I added this I just like the idea of Laury lookin like he’s rocking body glitter 24/7 ig. It’s most noticeable in direct sunlight.

They’re eyes are reflective, like a cats, and often glow in the dark. They’re eyes also appear more… empty… than a regular person’s. Almost uncanny.

When in their full Shadow Knight form, their irises become red, and the whites of their eyes turn black. The skin around their eyes also becomes red and cracked, almost irritated looking.

They have fangs. Much like this v

They each have a scar pertaining to the way in which they died. (Assuming it wasn’t something like poison). It is usually a dark grey or black color, but not always.

When they are premature, their fingers and toes are blacken. This is called the corruption. Each SK has at least some, but the amount tells you how long they resisted gaining their immortality. The longer they go without gaining their immortality, the further up the corruption creeps, only stopping at the shoulders and hips.

They have Rune Scars and Tattoos. The tattoo is located on their palms and is the source of their SK abilities. It’s embedded with the curse of binding so it cannot be removed or carved out. The scars are on their face, three claw marks on each cheek. These are referred to as The Tears. These scars enhance their SK abilities.

While in their full SK form, their scar runes turn black and emanate pure darkness. Their fingernails also grow into claws that are extremely sharp and nearly unbreakable.

All SKs appear pale, no matter their skin tone. They have no red/pink/orange undertones bc their blood technically no longer flows.

They often appear very ridged or mannequin like. Standing either too perfectly or too hunched over. Again, uncanny.

Because of all these physical traits, Shadow Knights are very easy to spot, assuming you know what to look for. Many trying to hide or blend in, will hide their heads, faces, and hands.

THE… OTHER STUFF:

Their body temperature fluctuates quite a bit. Generally, theyre cold to the touch, because yk their dead. But when they feel strong emotions like anger or happiness their temp rises, possibly to the point where they feel feverish. The only emotions that actively make them colder are sadness and fear.

Their temp also rises when the Calling comes a knocking. Rising hotter and hotter the longer they try to ignore or fight it.

^ Inspired by a convo with @xerith-42

It’s impossible to sleep in the Nether, though the reason is unknown. Because of this, Shadow Knights don’t require sleep. They still can sleep, but it’s not a necessity. Premature Shadow Knights however, still become tired and can still feel the physical repercussions of having no sleep.

Similarly, SKs also no longer need to eat or drink. However again, prematures do. Since not much grows in the nether, they’re forced to eat Nether Wart. It’s essentially a very tough, charcoal tasting mushroom. It’s their only source of food OR water as water cannot be found anywhere else in the Nether.

While they’re in the Nether, their blood becomes cold to accommodate for the extreme heat. Because of this they need to be careful about regulating their emotions while in the nether so their blood doesn’t overheat.

Nether time is faster than Overworld time. A year in the Nether is only a few months in the Overworld, if that.

Premature SKs can be killed the same ways a human can be, due to their lack of immortality. A full SK however, is a bit more tricky. Their physical form can be killed, though it is more difficult due to a combination of things, but they respawn. If their body dies, is will *poof* disappear and reappear back in the Nether on an alter. The amount of time it takes to respawn depends on the severity of their injury. A full SK can only be permanently killed with an enchanted Netherite weapon (hehe minecraft reference). These are extremely rare and hard to come by. …Zenix has one…

When a PMSK (Premature Shadow Knight) is trained, they fight against real, full SKs. They could very well be killed during their training, call it natural selection. The PM is expected to kill the Full SKs they’re fighting against.

Soul sand houses the souls of innocent lives taken by Shadow Knights. Their souls not only add fuel to their power, but also gives strength to the Shadow Lord/Shad.

In Shad’s eyes, someone with magicks or brains is often more valuable than someone who is physically strong. Though physical strength is needed in order to be a SK, if they are not particularly clever and they have no magicks, they aren’t very useful. Often used as simple pawns or sacrifices.

The first ever Shadow Knight was some random guy named Randal. He didn’t fit any of the criteria, in fact he was just some farmer who ate a bad potato and suffered the consequences. Shad only resurrected him to experiment a bit.

A Shadow Knight’s armor isn’t actually armor. It’s more like a shell that pops out when their body recognizes it’s needed. Or at least when it thinks it does. These shells are generally identical, but they do each have some variations depending on the person and their alignment. Their weapons are an extension of this shell as well, and can be any hand held weapon. Weather is a sword, hammer, mace, or even daggers. Swords are just most people’s go-to. Along with this, they cannot drop their weapons as they are basically a part of them. The only way to rid of it is by… sucking?? it back into the shell. Think of venom. But less… slimy.

They’re impervious to fire/lava. At any stage, full or pm.

Oooookay that’s all I got

Thanks for reading this far love ya mwah mwah

[rjthirsty]

I decided to try to clean up this impromptu Chevbert BL I had written some time ago. Just for a cleaner version for my masterlist. The last was a long line of reblogs with other people asking for more, and me obliging. I love when people ask for me to write. The best motivation.

Gilbert and Chevalier are a couple, and no one can stop me. Chev tops. I want Gil to teach Chev how to swallow his D. Gil is a moaner, that's already in my headcanon. He likes his hair pulled. He likes the sting of pain being scratched or bitten. Chev doesn't have to be gentle with him like he does with MC. And Gil doesn't have to hold back either - his bites always break skin on Chev.

It happened unexpectedly.

Chevalier was cleaning up the filth, and Gilbert went to oversee and deal with those who fled - because we all know no one survives a Chev purge. They run onto each other, friends from long ago, now enemies. Chev swings, and just like every other time, Gil blocks with his cane.

They know the drill by now. Exchanging words with faces inches away from each other. Death threats and promises of each others demise.

Then Gil days something preposterous. "I loved you, you know?"

Chev's brow furrows. This has to be some sort of trick to throw him off balance. "Ridiculous."

Gil steps back to bring his cane down to his side, his smile appearing just a little more strained than usual. "We could be friends again."

"That's impossible," Chev scoffs, rolling his eyes but continuing to be wary with his sword still in hand.

"We're only enemies because of our fathers. There was a time Obsidian and Rhodolite were on friendly terms."

Gilbert raises his hands placatingly, showing he has no weapon and means no harm. He slowly brings the end of his cane up to slide over Chev's swords and lower the tip towards the ground. Chevalier allows him without resistance. Gilbert doesn't appear to be looking to fight.

"I still count you as a friend."

Chev doesn't trust it - doesn't trust him - but after this strange encounter, he agrees to meet again to discuss possible restoration of their fractured relationship between the two countries without knowledge of the king or emperor. After all, there was ever only one person who could talk with him on the same level, and he sometimes thought of that young man.

Gilbert is awfully jealous. When Chevalier goes months with no contact and then he finds out Emma was chosen a Belle, he went to Rhodolite for many reasons, all branching from his own jealousy.

His first move was to bind Emma to himself. He had been watching her for a very long time, and he didn't want someone else in the beast den to touch what he considered his. Introducing her at the gala as his date made it very clear she was off limits.

Chev was his second target. In the chapel in the gardens, the two men met.

"Have you been playing with the little rabbit and lost interest in our talks?" Gilbert had been waiting for Chevalier to arrive.

"What do you want?" Chev was cold as always.

"It's the perfect time for Rhodolite to join Obsidian. The king is dead, the emperor wants to absorb this county, and my closest friend has abandoned me. Perhaps we'll march tomorrow. Trampling all over this country will lift my mood."

"If your intention was to invade, you wouldn't have come to the gala."

"A fair point." Gil's cane thumped against the tiled floor with every slow step he took towards Chev. "My friend has wounded me, and I'm the type that bites back as you are very well aware."

"You've come to fight." Chev drew his sword, ready to play the familiar game they often began their meetings with.

"I've come to claim what's mine."

Gilbert's cane rose so swiftly that a normal person wouldn't have seen the movement. Metal connected as Chevalier easily parried it aside.

"I don't intend to allow you to rebuke my friendship now." Gil's smile was gone.

"As long as you remain in Rhodolite, your threats mean nothing. You're a beast without claws. Prove you can still bite back if you dare."

Fighting came naturally to both men, friendship did not. It was complicated, laden with expectations and selfless acts. There was no clear goal or objective in establishing a relationship with another except furthering their ambitions, and when it came to the two tigers, their ambitions clashed so violently that friendship was out of the question.

They were not truly friends. They could never publicly call each other such. Despite the words Gilbert had said, they both knew friend was not what described the two of them.

Gilbert swung his cane again, flicking it upwards towards Chevalier's throat. Using his weapon unlike a sword forced Chev to adapt as well in order to prevent being pummeled with the heavy cane.

"I've never lost, you know. I don't lose." Gilbert reminded Chev, aiming a sweeping kick with the intention of tripping his close friend.

"And what is it you're trying to win?" Chevalier taunted, jabbing his sword towards Gil's shoulder.

Gil hooked the handle of his cane over Chev's blade and pulled the flat of the sword against the top of his shoulder. With his jacket, he was padded from the edge unless Chev really wanted him dead, but that would cause Rhodolite to lose face with friendly neighbors.

"Time." Gil answered with a slight rasping to his breath.

Chev stared at him, attempting to make sense of the single word answer he was given.

Gilbert grabbed Chevalier's coat, yanking the two of them closer. From this distance, Chev could hear the difficulty in Gil's breathing. They were practically chest to chest.

Gil was shorter, but not by so much that when he cautiously moved his face closer to Chev's he was still able to touch his cold lips against the brutal beast's.

The sensation was new to Chev. No one had kissed him before. No one wanted to. He had thought it pointless to pursue something of that nature. But now Gil's cold lips sparked something inside of him that begged to be examined. A flame of desire to have another touch-- to have another want to touch him.

The kiss had been fleeting, just a touch of softness that had brushed against him. But since he made no move to pull away, Gil moved closer again and this time gave Chev's lower lip a lick, then a nibble.

Chev felt arousal. The pit of his stomach clenched. The thought of putting his teeth on Gil overshadowed his hesitation. He released his sword, and it clattered to the ground, but not before his gloved fingers were clenched in Gil's clothes.

The two moved in a heated flurry of hands, grabbing and pulling at each other. Lips that moved together and parted for teeth to graze or nip. Tongues that tasted each other for the first time and sought new places to explore.

Gil sank his teeth into Chev's neck, and Chev grabbed a fistful of hair to remove the nuisance, eliciting a moan from the black tiger. In response, Gil bit him again, harder.

Chev drew in a breath that hissed through his teeth, roughly shoving Gil away. His hand went to the pain throbbing on his neck, quickly checking his black glove for signs of blood in case Gil had broken skin.

His heart was beating faster than the previous fight. His pulse thrummed with an eager anticipation. Lust was not a feeling Chev was familiar with. The man was ruled with cold indifference. This current desire-- this need to overtake Gilbert in some sort primal show of possessiveness clawed at his logical mind, tearing reason from him.

Chev came at Gil again, this time the aggressor. He grabbed Gil's hair and pulled another soft groan from him, using the opportunity to cover his mouth with his own, delving into a kiss that could be considered passionate, but certainly was deep and probing.

Gil's fingers tore at Chev's clothes, stressing seams and buttons in order to bare skin so his teeth could dig into Chev rather than the protective wear. Their groins pressed together, stiff erections violently rubbing through too many layers to sate their hunger.

Chevalier continued to advance on Gil until Gilbert felt the back of a pew press hard against his legs. Giving a final tug on Chev's partially open collar granted him access to the smooth skin he desperately wanted to marr. Using the leverage, Gilbert hoisted his legs around Chev, using the pew to hold the weight he wasn't managing himself.

Forced to widen his stance or tip over the bench, Chev performed the former, one hand grabbing Gil's ass to hold him up. His fingers dug into the thick muscle, leaving bruises that would go unseen. Gil's tongue and teeth and lips were on his chest, raking and biting and sucking and caressing. Chev ground his crotch into Gil's, the fabric of both men's trousers protesting from the strain.

[gemharvest]

boyfriend from fnf for the ask thing!! :)

favorite thing about them: I reaaaaalllly love his whole beeping thing idk. IDK !!! Maybe it's a neurodivergence thing but I really connect with characters who are depicted in communicating in ways outside the norm. Also there's something very funny to me abt how he beeps absolute gibberish but people understand him anyways. Like just as a comedic bit, not reading it any deeper, that shit's gold to me.

least favorite thing about them: Ok this is a take from my artist brain but fuuuuuuuck his hat fr that shit is way harder to make look right than you'd think. That or I just have a weird perfectionism issue. Which is also a likely contender.

favorite line: the best part of Friday Night Funkin' was when Boyfriend said "Beep bo bop" and funked all over those guys /j /ref

brOTP: I think you could get a really funny dynamic out of Boyf and Darnell. I need to get more confident in my read of Darnell b4 I do anything with that thought but it's There.

OTP: RGB polycule ftw you couldn't even claw these fuckers from my cold, dead hands. You know the ship is good when it's got me making friends through it. /silly

nOTP: I don't knowwww. Like there are ships I can think of for this where I'd never engage with them but I don't feel strongly enough about it to call any of them a nOTP. SORRY LMAO.

random headcanon: This guy would fw chewable stim toys but he'd have to get really tough ones. Guy who would shred a kong if you gave it to him without monitoring him.

unpopular opinion: What evennnnnnnn are the popular opinions in this fandom I barely go to wider fandom here. Unpopular opinion I wish more people depicted his beeping ??? Maybe ?? But that's a tentative one since I know for more serious works it's kinda. Hard to run with that. In my writing I have my workaround of "all his dialogue is in quotes cuz he's beeping so what's written is actually a translation" but liiike I still haven't figured out a pleasing way to do it in art. Like the best I got is speech bubble with beeps and translation underneath but it feels like. A Lot. So like, all of that to say I wish the beeps were worked with more but I can see where people come from just writing plain English for him. And maybe it is worked with more in wider fandom idk.

song i associate with them: OUHHHHHH HUMOR ME. I'm posting two. CW for suggestive themes in both (lyrics/ samples).

eyestrain/ flash warning on this next vid

favorite picture of them: IT'S SO HARD FOR ME TO PICK JUST ONE THERE'S SO MANY OFFICIAL THINGS WITH HIM THAT I FW. Here's the ones I rotate a lot in my head:

^ I think I've made it obvious my proper fave would be the beach poster art that shit's just Peak to me rn but I am always incapable of picking just one favorite.

[character ask prompt]

[turtletimewriting]

Rise tmnt tickle headcanons: re-do

Okay time to re-do. I know a lot of this is the same but I recently reread my headcanons and it was all just weird. So here we go!

Most ticklish is hands down Leo. The others are pretty equal or hard to determine. But everyone enjoys destroying Leo. Mikey enjoys taking down a big brother. Donnie likes taking him down a peg. Raph enjoys destroying a baby brother.

Mikey’s tickle spots: shell, underarms and palm of his hand. Mikey has the weird tickle spots. They discovered very late in life that the top of his shell is very ticklish. Everyone loves tracing around his markings. 

Raph’s ticklish spots: under his chin, back of knees and sides. Under his chin is such such such a ticklish spot. Drives him nuts instantly. Problem is it’s such an awkward spot to get to so everyone loves randomly attacking there when Raph tries to get all big brother and carries them.

Leo’s tickle spots: legs. Like the whole bottom half of him. Thighs are a killer, knees, tracing along his calf is a big spot. Similar to Raph, those spots are difficult to get to considering he’ll just kick frantically. But they all know to pin him down quick.

Donnie’s tickle spots: upper body. Him and Leo create a yin and yang. His arms, his stomach, under his chin. 

Mikey laugh is nuts. Like a keysmash come to life. He rambles frantically when tickled and cackles and snorts. He’s the sort who makes the most wild insane noises. He sounds like he’s dying. He cannot be normal when being tickled.

Raph’s laugh is either quiet muffled giggling or echoing booming laughter. There’s no inbetween. 

Leo’s laugh is (kinda boring, I know) is exactly in the tickle scene in the series. Loud cackles with the occasional begging.

Donnie’s laugh is a cackle. You can pry this from my cold dead hands. He has a fantastic cackle. Throw your head back clear loud ha ha ha ha. 

Mikey as a tickler is ruthless and immediately going for the kill. He knows that the tables can easily turn and his personas Dr Delicate Touch and Dr Feelings means he goes directly. If he’s tickling you then the fight is already over.

Like Mikey was once able to tickle Raph’s chin so much from when he was being carried that he made him actually fall over. Raph kept trying to tip back but there was no way that Mikey was going for the kill and never let up.

Raph as a tickler is teasy as hell. These are his baby brothers acting cute and helpless and he’s so much bigger and stronger. You bet he’s going gentle and teasing non stop. 

The one time Raph tickled a brother to tears was when he was giving Leo a piggy back ride and used his claws to gently trace up and down Leo’s calves for like ten straight minutes.

Leo as a tickler is like a golden retriever going nuts. He’s throwing his full body weight and attacking frantically. He gets in your face and is also rambling constantly. He’s not as effective as Raph at teasing but he can still humiliate his victim.

Leo truly resembled demon possession when he had his sights on someone. Clinging upside down to Raph’s back as he frantically scribbled down his entire sides. From under his arms to the bottom of his shell. 

Donnie as a tickler is only ever to prove a point. To bring Leo down a peg, to get Mikey to stop being a nuisance, to get Raph to stop mother henning. It’s always a snapping point. If he says he’s going to tickle you then that’s the queue to run. 

Donnie was sat down calmly and holding Leo’s leg like it was guitar and just going nuts across the back of his knee. “Well? Are you gonna apologise? I’m waiting.”

I said previously that Donnie really really likes tickling other people when he’s frustrated with a project or feeling restless. (May or may not be based on me) but he finds himself doing the tickling motion if he’s thinking. Pulling Mikey or Leo to tickle until he reaches a breakthrough. Mikey can last longer while Leo can’t take much but is funner to tickle.

Splinter definitely went through a phase of tickling his sons with his tail under the tail and watching them blame each other.

...

Bonus apolocalypse:

Future Leo definitely had a whole gimmick where he pretends his prosthetic is malfunctioning and cannot stop tickling. It used to drive baby Casey Jones nuts. Until the day Donnie used his mystic powers to make it actually malfunction and make his own arm tickle himself.

[mastcrmarksman]

you can try and claw Clint bouncing between circuses and carnivals from the ages of 12 to 24 from my cold dead hands, and you'd still fail to pry this headcanon away.

[fancyfade]

do all three of my favorite blorbos (kendra saunders, carter hall, and hector hall)

blorbo greedy :P

OK

Kendra

my favorite thing about them: ... her unhingedness honestly. :P It makes her fun. she gets injured in JLA 2006 and Hawkman 2002 and both times is like "let me just bandage my injured arm and hop back into the field".

any headcanons I have or like (If I have headcanons about them): Kendra likes sad movies, the sadder the better. She's watching a movie with Carter and he's like 😭 and she's like 😁

my favorite appearance with them: hmmm hard to tell b/c she's often a side character RIP kendra. That said I like (most of) her arc in the first 16 issues of Hawkman 2002 and if I want to limit it to one scene, it'd be this scene (link) where she straps her mace to her broken arm and puts the claw of horus on the other

Carter:

My favorite thing: I honestly find it kind of refreshing how he's one of the superheroes who isn't just Carter but in a helmet when he's hawkman (at least in Geoff Johns Hawkman 2002). Like he's a lot less patient as hawkman generally and more direct.

any headcanons: I headcanon that carter just died and reincarnated sorry I find the merging with Katar in the HawkRealm or whatever to explain why he's not old dumb :P And i headcanon that this influences why he acts different as Hawkman and carter - he's more aggro as hawkman because he feels he has to prove himself, because he's young (and whether he likes it or not, perceived as less experienced) but all the friends he remembers being his peers on the JSA are old

Favorite appearance with him: ... hmm IG Hawkman 2002? He's the protagonist there.

Hector:

favorite thing: I'm sorry I love that teenage hector in infinity inc is kind of an asshole. you can pry asshole hec from my cold dead hands. he puts his foot in his mouth all the time. I also like that he's insecure but there's nothing to like. soften it? He realizes he's acting like an asshole when he's insecure that lyta's stronger than him, but the writers don't do some pussy-ass 'oh training arc for hector how dare he be less strong than his GF'

any headcanons: hector likes the blandest most kid food possible. he loves craft macncheese and cheese pizza

favorite appearance: infinity inc 1984!

[spacedustmantis]

for the ask game, 🧸🎃 gillion! :3

🧸 - hurt/comfort headcanon:

(hurt/comfort for gillion is so hard to do bc he refuses to fucking open up and be vulnerable!!)

i think that gillion never got any physical intimacy from anyone but edyn. she used to hug him and hold his hand real tight and roughhouse with him, but when he hardened under the elders training and she got more concerned, her touches became more gentle, and less overwhelmingly comforting. and then she stopped showing up. the only touch he experienced for a good year or two were the hits and stabs and grabs of his teachers and the elders and the best hug pretzel could provide (which was not enough of course). when he comes to the surface, at first he's distant because he forces himself to stay away from chip and jay. he's learned to not ask for anything, especially affection. but then when he does get hugs from chip so so often (bc you cannot tell me chip doesn't hug everyone all the time), he starts realizing that maybe he can have this again. and so over time he lets himself indulge in physical intimacy and he's a big fan of hugs and chip, ollie and him are often found just casually cuddling or touching one another (jay is so very touch averse and you can claw that headcanon out of my cold dead hands).

🎃 - something i think they're afraid of:

there are a few things gillion tidestrider is afraid of over everything else.

the first one, the elders. his abusers, the people he got told are absolute authority and yet they have hurt him so much. and i think for a long time he was afraid to admit to himself that he is afraid of the elders. because he's not supposed to afraid at all, especially not of the people who raised him, gave him a purpose, guided him his whole life. but the more time he spends with chip and jay and his crew, the more he comes to realize maybe he was right to fear the elders.

second, he's afraid of failure. when failure constantly gets you nothing but more punishment and scolding, you learn to avoid failure like death. adding the weight of knowing that one day the fate of the world is going to depend on your success or failure makes that only worse. i'd guess that failing was his biggest fear for a long time. and then he got banished and met chip and jay.

his third and worst fear, is losing his family. new and old. he's so terribly afraid of losing chip and jay and his crew, and then when he finds out edyn is putting herself in danger for him, that fear extends to her as well. and he's particularly afraid of their deaths being his fault. he's afraid that he will lead them to ruin, that he won't be strong enough, won't be good enough, won't be smart enough to protect them.

[icharchivist]

My favourite headcanon that you can pry from my cold dead hands is that Belial helps Beelzebub braid his hair

Bub's claws are way too long to do it himself

He hates every second of it, but Belial does a good job, even if he bothers him the entire time, but Bubs has a brand to maintain and an image to lose

oh god i love it.

of course Belial "fashionista" Fallen Angel (yes it's his full name i decided) would find some way to influence Beelzebub into thinking that him having the most perfect hairstyle was ESSENTIAL actually.

I'm sure Bubs at first didnt want to spend so long on this, but he DOES want to be the most dazzling person in the skies so he's going to show the world his most beautiful form or so help him. Even if.... it means he has to bear with Belial, out of all people, for it.

It's honestly on brand for the two of them. And besides when Belial is braiding Bubs's hair, he can start to talk about any topics that could annoy Bubs otherwise and use the fact Bubs need him to finish the job as a way to shield himself.

This works so well. I love it. thank you for sharing.

[missilekidding]

Fun Ghoul is dyspraxic Kobra Kid is autistic tell ur friends

[imagineslashers]

HELLO HELLO

i love you?? and your writing???? so much??? youre so talented 💞

but uhhh i was just wondering if i could have platonic headcanons for Michael Myers, Chucky + Tiffany, and Beetlejuice?? like uh,,, maybe they just claim this frickinnn KID NSNSJ, or reluctantly becoming a parental/maternal figure towards a teenager (like 14-16 years old)

why they dont kill them or kick them to the curb is beyond me

sorry if this is a weird request??NSNS everything has gone to shit and it happened right when i got back into slashers so my emotional attachment issues made me latch onto the man, the myth, michael myers GABDNAJA its cringe, i know BUT UHHH YEAH THANK YOU FEEL FREE TO IGNORW THIS MWAH

HI HI

thank you, that makes me so happy as an anxious, self-critical writer; you’re so sweet and it made my day to read that!!!

haha i love your request, i adore cool platonic ideas! i hope you’re doing okay, i absolutely feel the same at times, but know you’ve got me as your friend if you need anything! judgement free zone! anyhow, onto the fic below!

Platonic Slashers Begrudgingly (or not) Take in a Teen

(warnings for mentions of violence, blood, abuse, swearing, etc.!)

Michael Myers

He’s not very happy.

You’re an anomaly, a stranger, a potential victim.

But then why do you make his cold heart clench when you cry?

He is literally straddling a victim in a dark alleyway with his knife in hand and suddenly he sees you in the corner of his eye, frozen to the spot, rocking on the heels of your feet.

Michael whips his head around now that his victim is long-dead and turns his attention to you, the witness. You don’t run, staring at him with narrowed eyes.

“That guy was an asshole.” The words stun him, and that’s not easy to do. Your calm, disinterested demeanour causes him to hesitate, gripping the handle of his knife. Blood drips from his mask where the victim clawed at his face, smearing the white with bright crimson.

Michael starts towards you again, assessing you, head tilted. You’re young, but not a child. Somewhere in between, and you still aren’t running. It almost irritates him.

“I’m not endorsing killing or anything, and maybe you’re going to do me in next, but that guy had it coming.” You continue quietly. Michael keeps approaching, his movements barely making noise despite his huge frame towering over yours. “Foster dad. Drank a lot.”

Michael curses under his breath because you make him hesitate again, as he feels a pang of - what? Curiosity? Sympathy? Nonsense.

A siren wails nearby and Michael stops, inches from you, close enough that you can feel the heat of his sigh as he turns away and heads off.

- from then on, you have several more encounters and ask many annoying questions, but Michael treats you more like a street cat than anything else, ignoring you other than the occasional grunt or nod

- he finds he actually might kinda like having someone want to spend time with him, even if he’s literally crushing someone in his hands, you’re hanging out at a respectable distance waiting for him

- Michael does some healthy stalking and learns that you’re now living from house to house with friends or on the street, unwilling to return to the foster system, and he doesn’t like that

- eventually, he softens just enough that when you’re going to head off one night, he grabs your wrist and all but drags you to his home

- from then on, you’re his

- he teaches you everything he knows, you’re like his little apprentice, or his shadow

- Michael is super protective, he won’t show how much he has begun to care about you but the second you’re upset by someone, they disappear mysteriously

- matching costumes for Halloween??? i stan

- he sometimes treats you a bit more like a puppy, other times he is eager to show you the tricks of the trade to using a knife and being stealthy, or he will want to be left alone, it depends on his mood

- either way, you’re his kid now, and everyone knows not to mess with you

Chucky & Tiffany (pre-doll & post)

Chucky and Tiffany are in completely different mindsets when they find you.

You’re sat hunched in a booth alone in a diner they’re both eating at, Tiffany continually glancing your way. Chucky doesn’t notice until she kicks him under the table.

He curses and hits his hand on the table, shaking the glasses. Before he can lose his temper even further, Tiffany is jerking her head not-so-subtly to one side to tell him to turn around.

He does, and he sees you in a hoodie nursing a glass of flat soda. Chucky scoffs, resuming his meal by shovelling fries into his mouth. “And?” He drawls around the mouthful, making Tiffany scowl.

“They’re all alone! No food, poor babe, they’ve been sat there since we arrived! Lost little lamb.” She croons, her elbows on the table and head rested in her hands as she watches you over her lover’s shoulder. Chucky sours, jealous at the loss of attention.

A scuffle distracts them both and they shift their attention to the masked man who just walked in. He’s brandishing a knife in one shaky hand, jerking, whipping his knife around and demanding money.

Chucky rolls his eyes, unflinching. “Amateur.” He laughs. Tiffany shoots him a look, reaching for the cutlery knife on the table, just in case.

When the stranger, however, confronts you, it’s a different matter. Tiffany goes rigid when the man grabs your collar, shaking you and demanding cash. She stands up at once, heels squeaking on the linoleum floor.

Chucky, for all his bravado and pretending to ignore you, can’t help the sudden spike in protectiveness. Tiffany’s influence, no doubt.

Just as Tiffany has crossed half the distance to you, you surprise her. Your knee shoots out between the man’s legs and hits him square in the groin, followed by a right hook that sends him collapsing to the floor in a wheezing pile.

Nobody moves, except you. You pick up your bag and sigh, stepping over the man. Before you can leave, Tiffany places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Hey kiddo, wait a minute okay? You ain’t got no place to stay, huh?” Her voice is honeyed and like that of a mother hen soothing her young.

You nod in agreement, head low. Tiffany makes a noise of distress, pulling this sweet, spunky, surprising teen to her chest and holds you there.

Chucky appears and kicks the man in the chest for good measure, then looks at the two of you together. After a moment of Tiffany’s puppy eyes and your steely gaze, he cracks. “Fine! Get in the truck.”

- you’re their absolute prize

- after a few shorts weeks and demonstrating how much you know about life on the street, you impress Chucky enough that he allows you to stay

- Tiffany was won over from the beginning but she’s thrilled that he allows it

- you’re not going anywhere without one of them, they are so protective it’s crazy, and they will always make sure if you have to go somewhere alone that you’re prepared

- “Got your knife?” “What about the mace?” “Tell me again what you’re meant to do if a stranger approaches!”

- of course, they teach you their way of life too, and soon you’re a highly chaotic, perfectly functional family!

- post-doll, they rely on you a fair bit more for doing things they can’t do, and you’re good at pretending they’re just dolls so you can sneak them into places

- either way, doll or not, you guys are a surprisingly powerful trio!

Beetlejuice

Okay, this was never going to be an issue for him.

Beetlejuice finds you in one of the decrepit houses he enjoys frequenting to scare the goth kids who hang out there.

You’re all alone, reading a book with a school bag by your feet, sat on the dilapidated porch. He wants to scare you so bad, creeping up behind you, his combat boots falling soundlessly with careful steps. He’s so close to you when he notices you’re sniffling.

Not only that, but there are wet droplets on the book pages he can see from over your shoulder, drops from where you’ve been crying.

Beetlejuice isn’t particularly mushy, especially not for strangers, but something about you makes him pause. Maybe it’s because you remind him of himself when he was alive, and young, and lonely.

Instead of spooking you, he sits down heavily next to you and causes several of the wooden boards to groan in protest. You jump, moving away from him until you see the very-much-dead face smiling back at you.

“So, uh, what’s up kid? You drop your candy or something? Boy troubles? Girl troubles? Both?” He’s leaning forward like a schoolgirl awaiting gossip, eyes eager and curious. You can’t help but feel pulled into his attentiveness.

Wiping your eyes, you drop your gaze to your book, shaking your head. “Nothing, just some issues at home. This is the only place I can get some peace and quiet.”

BJ huffs, knocking the book from your hands so you’re forced to look at him. “Listen to me, sport, you’re just radiating mischief potential, and you’re wasting your creative little mind sat here crying over some losers who don’t deserve you anyhow!”

His pep talk takes you by surprise, and he uses the moment to haul you to your feet, a snake falling from his sleeve as he does so. He seems unperturbed by this, his eyes still locked excitedly to yours.

“I need a partner in crime, things been real stale lately, ya know? Need a fresh perspective!” He holds both of your hands in his, the cool skin soothing yours, a firm grip keeping you grounded and out of your own head.

“So, whaddya say? You come scare the shit out of some folks who deserve it, and I keep the assholes off your back - it’s a win-win!”

- you’re the most terrifying and perfectly suited pairing ever

- he has so many ideas and gets so excited, but you’re the one who keeps him calm, picking the best idea, astounding him with your own suggestions

- he takes you all over the place, but of course returns you back so you can continue with your schooling

- dessert nights and late night snacking are his favourite, especially when talking shit at the same time or watching some terrible television dramas

- BJ gets a tiny whiff of someone upsetting you and he’s there, haunting them for a solid week until they tremble at the sight of you

- unlike the others, he won’t reveal his terrifying, nightmare-inducing looks in front of you because he doesn’t want you to see him that way

- he loves you so much, he gets a whole bunch of stuff for your birthdays and Halloween with him is so wild because he can walk among the living without anyone looking twice at him

- well, at least your life will never be boring again!

[boidmc]

Random headcanons about the Rise!Turtle Bros that just make sense (at least to me)

Raph and Donnie are dog people (with different tastes in dogs), Mikey is a cat person, and Leo is 50/50 and doesn't care as long as they're cute and don't try to bite/claw at him.

April taught the boys how to play hand-clapping games she learned from her parents. The most common one they played was Slide and they still play when they get bored. Usually, it's Leo and Mikey but sometimes they get too intense and have way too long of a game.

When Raph hit his growth spurt and they started going above in disguises without Splinter, he got called the other boys' dad so many times in the beginning. His brothers had a field day and couldn't stop laughing when they found out. It stopped happening as much as everyone grew taller but still happens a bit when he's just with Mikey.

Raph has a habit of always fidgeting with his hands and doing repetitive hand movements. Most common ones are him softly tapping the tips of his knuckles together to a beat and rubbing one of his fingers between the ones on the other hand, usually in thought.

Raph crunches on ice a lot, which isn't as bad for his teeth since he's not a human. He initially started eating ice because he was testing out his jaw strength when he was younger with Donnie but now it's his go-to if his anxiety gets too much since the cold grounds him.

Leo and Donnie are actually a couple days apart but, after learning they were still technically the same age, Leo dubbed them as twins. They started celebrating their "joint" birthdays on the day in between.

Speaking of which, you can pry Leo being the older twin out of my cold dead hands. /lh But yeah speaking from 2nd oldest/middle child experience he radiates older middle child energy way more than younger middle child energy. In this essay-

Leo tends to pace a lot. He does it when he's thinking hard, when he has too much energy, when he's part of a conversation, etc. His body just likes to move and you can see him constantly shuffle on his feet when he tries to keep still.

Donnie used to use the most random things to help shape his eyebrows. Common one was a ruler cuz it also helped make sure they were exactly even. He can freehand it now and it looks more natural but he has given Splinter a heart attack when one time he caught him using a knife for help. It was dull and plastic but still.

Donnie has a customized rubber duck in his lab that looks like a mini him that he talks to and uses as a stress ball when he hits a roadblock to inventing or coding something. Mikey helped paint it and proceeded to make ones for everyone else.

Mikey is said to be a ballet dancer in Lair Games so I wanna say that he learned a lot of ballet via watching Youtube videos. It leads him to watch more dance videos of different types of dance and the most physically flexible in the family. It's also noticeable in the way he fights as well.

Mikey has some form of color-related associative synesthesia. He actually "sees"/associates his brothers as different colors than what we're used to. He usually thinks of Raph as dark sea green, Leo as canary yellow, and Donnie as mahogany red. Orange is pretty close to what he sees himself as but leaning more on the peach side. Has drawn a what-if photo of all of them if they were color-coordinated via Mikey standards.

[atanearerdistance]

Is this show gonna look me in the eye and tell me Nancy and Ace never noticed each other in high school. Are they gonna try to tell me John Hughes was wrong about popular girls and stoner boys. She was a pretty and smart redhead who solved crimes and he was a teenage boy who clearly conditioned and had an air of mystery about him, you can pry my “they daydreamed about each other but needed The Claw to form an actual connection” headcanon from my cold dead hands.

[littlebigmouse]

Dirtyhands (not Kaz, I mean specifically his alias)

Oh, that's a good one. I'm not even sure where the lines blurr between man and legend in canon, but that just means I can have more fun.

Headcanon A:  realistic: He wears the gloves so his hands don't become soiled by all the dirty deeds he commits. Discard the gloves and he'll never be caught red handed. Anyone in Ketterdam who deals with dead bodies on the regular knows to protect their hands this way, and just shake their heads at the upstarts and the reckless knuckleheads who feed into legends about his demonic claws.

Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious: The council leaves him alone because they theorize he may be a counceler's disgraced son. They don't know who's, though, and they don't want to meddle in each other's affairs and cause unnecessary conflict with each other. Surely, the respective father can take care of his own mess. He's known as the bastard of the barrel, a young man who dresses in a merchant's colours, who is well-educated and possesses a mind for money rivalled by few men twice his age. Of course Dirtyhands fell from a higher place then most. So they side-eye each other when talk of the barrel lords comes up, they look for a twitch of an eyebrow, nervous sweat. They see it everywhere. One counceler coughed, another's lips twitched. They all have different theories on whom Dirtyhands belongs to. Some make subtle suggestions about it. Two councelers started a fist fight once because one implied a bastard of the other becoming a barrel rat. (One of them was Van Eck before his fall. You go figure why).

Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends: Dirtyhands has no friends. His people are incredibly loyal, but do not mistake loyality for companionship, do not mistake fear for reverance, not usefullness for good grace. Dirtyhands owns the Wraith, because he pretends he doesn't care for her ownership, that she can be free. His associates are all indetured, all bought with the promise of freedom, as soon as they are payed for. None of them realize Dirtyhands would leave them for dead in the ditch the second they outweighted their usefullness to him. Dirtyhands cares more for the life of his enemies than the lifes of his associates, because at least his enemies can still be bled dry.

Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own: Whatever crawled out of the river that night wasn't entirely human. His shadow is longer and darker out of the corner of your eye, if you get close enough to his person you can smell the lingering stench of rot and decay. The rasp crawling from his throat is laced with the desperate pleas of the souls he's claimed. They say he has a ledger, and once you shake his hand your name will be forever marked in black ink, regardless of the nature of your agreement. Even if the deal goes smoothly and to the satisfaction of both sides. The monster that dragged a boy's corpse out of the cold and dirty riverwater always requires interest. And you will always pay up, one way or another.

[payeehay]

Jack's Fucking Dead, Pt. 1.5: The Dissection

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Based loosely on the fantastic @floralflowerpower's headcanons about cores and ectoplasm

Tw for dissection, mild gore

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

---

Jack lay on a cold operating table, down in the lab.

Maddie buzzed around him, getting everything ready for the dissection.

She strapped down his hands and feet - a precaution, she'd said - and then she affixed the anaesthetic mask to his face. He took a few deep breaths of the gas, his vision dimming and the cold of the metal table melting away.

Finally, she put a pillow behind his head - that had been one of his conditions, he'd wanted to be able to see what she was doing - and he stared at his blue chest. It was weird, seeing his skin since he'd died. He rarely took off his jumpsuit, and he'd taken to avoiding mirrors, but now, his ghostliness was on full display. He hoped it wouldn't make her hate him.

He'd been nude before, of course, but now, even in his boxers, seeing the fervent curiosity in Maddie's eyes that he loved her so much for, he'd never felt so naked.

Finally, she settled next to him, tape recorder in one hand and scalpel in the other.

"Ready, Jack?" she asked cheerfully.

A shiver went down Jack's spine. He was curious, yes, but he didn't want to be cut open, he'd really only agreed to this to be helpful, to be worthy, to make up for his existence as a ghost-

"Ready, Mads," he smiled up at her.

She pushed the button to start the recorder, set it down. "Maddie Fenton, June 13, 2004, exploratory dissection of a class 3 ghost." He wasn't surprised that she didn't use his name.

He could only watch as she started slicing into him, through his skin. A few neat cuts, a sample taken, and blue was pulled away to reveal green.

"Internal ectoplasm structure is firm, not unlike flesh," Maddie announced to the recorder. Her eyes were sparkling.

She kept cutting, layer after layer, until she hit something hard. "Interesting, the ectoplasm seems to be mimicking a human-like skeletal structure."

"It's a bones day!" Jack shouted cheerfully, tried to throw up his hands before he remembered that he couldn't.

Maddie just chuckled at him. "It certainly is. Now, mind if we see what's under them?"

He did mind, he didn't want to be cracked open like a pistachio, but all he said was "Sure thing."

He could feel Maddie pulling on his ribs, and then she declared to the recorder, "Structure is strong, using the bone saw."

Jack gulped as the tool whirred to life, pressed against his ribs. The anaesthetic was working, thankfully, but it left an uncomfortable pressure on his chest, spewed tiny bits of green dust into his face.

A short eternity later, she was in. She peeled back his ribs like a grotesque set of claws, and laid her gloved hand on his viscera. He took another deep breath.

"Fascinating, I can feel you breathing but I'm not seeing any lungs in here," she told him. "Just more solid ectoplasm."

And then, to the recorder, "Subject has no apparent organs. Cutting deeper."

The further down she got, the more wrong he felt. He was about to ask her to stop when she suddenly announced, "There's something glowing in here."

As unsettled as he felt, Jack's curiosity won out, and he kept his reservations to himself. "What is it?" he asked.

"I don't know." She grinned. "But we're about to find out."

A couple more cuts, and a soft light from his chest spilled onto Maddie's face. He couldn't see what was causing the glow from this angle, but he felt every finger when she touched it, and shivered all over.

She stopped. "What does that feel like?"

"Uhh..." Jack struggled to find his words. "Like you're touching me, all of me, my very being," he clumsily articulated.

"Fascinating," she muttered, and then for the recorder, "Glowing orb suspended in goo-like ectoplasm. Texture is soft. Attempting to pull it out for further study."

Before he could stop her, her hands were around it, around him, pulling, stretching, and then he was outside his body. His vision was dim, but he could see all 360 degrees of the lab, his own body on the table, the insides of Maddie's hands holding him, her enraptured face inches away. He tried to move, to speak, but all he could do was sit there as Maddie poked and prodded him.

"Orb texture is soft, but self-attractive. Coated in ectoplasm." Her voice was far-off. She rubbed her thumb over a section of him, and his vision in that spot went dark. "Taking a sample."

She switched him to one hand, and he could feel himself deforming under his own weight, squishing through her fingers. He felt so exposed. Her other hand came back with a little bladed scoop and he whined, worried. The scoop moved into the dark area of his vision, and he felt it pressing into him, felt himself moving around it, the blade making contact but never able to make a cut.

After a minute, Maddie sighed. "Sample collection failed, fluid keeps flowing away from the blade and back into itself. Taking energy readings and then then returning to body."

A short moment in front of the energy gun later, he watched himself be lowered into his chest cavity, down through his cracked-open ribs like hands reaching for him, plunged into the pool of ectoplasm below, and then he was back in his body, shuddering all over.

"Jack?" Maddie called. "Are you alright?" She put her hand on his leg.

It took a minute of sputtering before he found his voice. "Let's never do that again, please," he croaked.

Maddie's eyes narrowed curiously. "What was it like?"

"Like being pulled out of my body and held in your hands. But I couldn't move or do anything." He shuddered again.

Maddie looked enthralled. "So your awareness was in that orb?"

He shrugged. "I guess so."

"Interesting," she said. She clapped her ectoplasm-stained hands. "Well, I think we've found about everything there is to find in there, so unless you want to keep going-"

"No, I'm good," he answered hastily. "Let's just close me up."

She smiled. "Okay."

She started stitching him up. As she worked, she rambled on about the exciting discoveries they'd made, and future tests they could do. Jack tried his best to match her enthusiasm. He couldn't let her know how uncomfortable he was, how sick the smell of his own ectoplasm made him. He had to be useful, he couldn't take being rejected, not now, after everything he'd been through recently. So he played along, theorized with her, matched her smiles with his own.

A while of stitching and bone-setting later, and she was done. As soon as she unbuckled his hands, he ripped the mask off his face and sat up, ready to be as far away from here as possible. His senses were still a bit dulled from the anesthetic, but he could deal with that.

"Now, I know ghosts regenerate quickly, but wait a couple of minutes before you put your suit back on, you're still leaking a little bit of ectoplasm through your bandages," Maddie instructed him.

He ignored her. He was so tired of feeling exposed.

He looked at the clock, and oh, look at that, it was almost breakfast. Time for him to go upstairs and cook breakfast for his family, and try to forget about all of this.

Alternate Ending

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Explaining the joke: There's a pug on tiktok named Noodle whose owner picks him up into a standing position every day. Some days, he stays standing, these are Bones Days, days for being adventurous and getting things done. Other days, he flops over like he's boneless, these are No Bones Days, days for relaxing and taking care of yourself. He's become somewhat of a horoscope, and Jack definitely checks what kind of day it is every morning.