#you can find my headcanons with the tag: bee castle headcanons

[ezraspiderwick]

I’ve been having a ton of fun writing headcanons, so if you have any headcanon requests send them my way and I’ll do my best to answer them <3

[ruiniel]

Hello! I really like your Akucard x reader Story ("Another Way") Is it possible to request an AU where Reader was teleported into the Castlevania universe infront of the castle instead? Obviously a small Story or just headcanons would be fine :)

Love to hear it! 'Another way' has become close to my heart. Oh my dear anon… I wish I could tell you something, but alas I cannot without spoilering that story to hell and back. 

However! Here’s a take per your request. A oneshot for now, not sure if there’ll be any interest for more. Had fun writing it though. Changed the location a bit.

Castlevania series fanfiction request 2/3 for this post

All those who wander

Fandom: Castlevania series

Characters: Alucard, Reader

Rating: T

Count: 1.2K

Tags: GN reader, it’s some more isekai folks, depiction of violence, of course they’ll meet a certain someone etc no surprises there, oneshot

Summary: There’s no possible explanation for the absolute unreality of what is happening. You woke up sprawled on the ground in a place foreign to you — which, as you’ll find, does not even begin to cut it. 

You have a headache. No, a maelstrom churns between your ears, which are also buzzing like angry swarms of bees. Your vision sways still, and you blink several times, bones and muscles aching to get a grip. The last you recall is the tall antique mirror you were studying in the art museum and its glistening silver surface, blurring like ripples in a still lake, the fiery rune-like writings that made you drop your notebook and your jaw, and then.

Falling. Falling forever, unable to move or speak or see, as though trapped in a prolonged sleep paralysis before all dimmed and you woke up here: still alive, still in one piece. Apparently.

There’s dirt beneath your knees; dirt and rocks, sharp little stones that tore through your jeans and cut rather deeply into the skin. You bring a hand to your heavy, heavy head, which feels like a boulder weighing on your shoulders.

Rising proves difficult, but finally you manage. Why is there dirt?

Why are you outside—

Your head is spinning so you must lean against a tree, but there’s the double take:

A tree?! 

Like a heavy wave, everything crashes upon your conscious mind, an awful clarity that only breeds more confusion.

You were inside. Now, you are not. Looking around, you see more trees — a forest’s worth, actually. But it must be a park of some kind, yet the rich underbrush and dense foliage carve some doubt into that assumption.

Did you faint? You were never prone to such a thing. Did someone carry you here?

But who? You were the last person at the museum (as far as you know), preparing to lock up before a glint in that mirror caught your attention. Your mentor had already left for the day after discussing your assignment.

Panic grips you as with sluggish movements you turn, wincing — the gash in your knee has bled a large stain through the material, the pain so intense you can best manage a dragging limp, and your left elbow is in a similar shabby state. Your hip hurts like hell.

One thing’s apparent: you quite literally do not know where you are or how you got here. It’s around midday by the looks of it, the skies beyond the crowns of trees tinged with pale blue, decked with white plush clouds.

Home, I have to get home ASAP. Apart from the damage to your leg and elbow and your aching hip, the rest of you feels whole. You consider calling your friend Kee to come pick you up, a thought which summons another revelation — your bag. You had it strapped over your shoulder and your frantic eyes dart everywhere, finding it a few steps away, lying among fallen leaves with its contents strewn around it.

You pick up the phone first, which is at ninety percent battery. Good enough, but.

“No signal… wonderful.” You tip your head up to the skies and groan, wondering what exactly you’ve done so very wrong to bring whatever this is upon yourself.

Bending with difficulty you retrieve the other scant belongings scattered on the ground: headphones, a charger, a small pouch with toiletries, a pack of paper tissues, a bottle of hand sanitizer gel, a ballpoint pen, your card holder wallet and a plastic bottle with water, half empty.

With nothing else to do and thinking it’s better to keep moving than just sit here, wondering and worrying, you walk.

“Some park…” you murmur, passing majestic trees that must be centuries old judging by their voluminous trunks, but you see no streetlights, no clear paths and no signs anywhere.

Despite this, there are signs of life: everything vibrates around you. The wind in the trees, the song of birds and a flutter of wings here and there. The rummaging beneath the drying red-brown leaves. All seems rather normal, and you haven’t been out in nature for so long, but you still feel… you can’t even name it. Disjointed? As though being cut off from something, though you haven’t the slightest idea what.

The gurgle of water soon reaches you and as you brush the foliage aside to get closer you’re met with another sight: a stream, its waters flowing crystal clear.

Somewhat relieved, you near the bank, whimpering as you lower yourself to the ground and try not to slip over the large stones. You do not know how clean the water is by the standards you're used to, but you can see the riverbed through it, and it’s as good as anything else you might find, so, you take out a paper tissue, wetting it and trying to clean the area around the wound to your knee.

It’s painstaking work because the damn thing throbs, and from time to time you look around, taking stock of your surroundings. 

You don’t expect to see anyone, but as you sit back on a larger boulder and lift your head, you discover how wrong you were.

On the opposite bank, is a person. A tall, slim man by the looks of it, fair-haired, holding a wicker basket. He’s standing there, eerily, watching you in silence with an impassive mien, and you’re not sure whether to feel relieved or worried.

“Hey, hello?” you call out. “Do you live around here? I’m lost, and,” you point at your knee, smiling ruefully, “have a bit of a problem here.”

No reaction. He just. Stares. He tilts his head to one side, an eyebrow raised. 

“Wonder if you have a phone I could use? Mine has no signal, uh,” you add, and it’s then you gather something your brain hadn’t processed at first glance: you see something hanging on his hip, something which looks terribly familiar yet makes no sense: it looks like a sword.

“Er, don’t you live here?” you say as he frowns, and primal, relentless fear grips you as he draws his — much too long — sword from its scabbard. A scabbard.

Do you have a nut to contend with here? “Listen, I didn’t mean to trespass. I apologize if this is your, uh, territory?” you babble on, your brain already firing alarm signals through your body as you slide back on your arms, trying to rise.

You gasp when he rushes forward, towards you. Your mind can’t comprehend the speed or the reason; you cover your face with your arms and a sharp cry of surprise tears itself from your throat, scattering the birds away from the surrounding trees.

One breath, two.

You open your eyes. You’re still alive, and fight or flight has wired your body so tense you scamper to your feet forgetting all about the pain, turning to flee—

Only to see him. That’s one. Two: he apparently went around you? Three: green-black sludge oozes from his blade, and it stinks to high heaven. Four: there’s something struggling at his feet.

Something is the only term you can think of, because the thing looks like nothing, nothing you’ve seen before. Glowing eyes — at least six of them. Your heartbeat rages. A furry hide, the sharpest saber-tooth-tiger fangs you’ve ever seen; and, it looks humanoid, two legs, four… four arms?!

“What the—” despite yourself you near but those are the only words you manage before the world is swiped from under your feet; an inhuman growl freezes your heart, and agony sears through your leg as something burns around your ankle.

The last you see is the stranger, a flash of long, pale-gold hair, the cruel gleam of silver. Your vision blurs, shatters like glass, and oblivion takes hold.

Castlevania x Reader masterlist ◘ AO3 ◘ Other socials

[egg-emperor]

Any phobias or large fears in general? I’ve always liked to think that’s there’s this oooone thing he just can’t handle, but I can’t think of what that could be...

I mentioned some time ago that I find it hard to think of things that Eggman could be afraid of because in the games we see that he's evidently pretty damn brave. For example, all the times he takes extreme risks that could put himself and the world in danger when carrying out plans, and the way he’s often one of the calmest characters during various world catastrophies and life or death situations.

I imagine he’s usually only scared of things the moment he feels he's truly in danger and at risk of death. Such as the crash of the Egg Carrier in 06 or the black hole in Zero Gravity. He didn’t fear the powerful gods and beasts he harnessed until betrayal, he wasn’t afraid of Black Doom until he was affected by paralysis and the Comet's gas, etc. But most of the time even when all the other characters are freaking out, he panics the least.

I have way too many examples I could give of his extreme bravery throughout various media but it would probably become too detailed with a lot of off topic rambling, so I’ll save it for a future post. XD But the point I’m trying to make is that if he’s barely been afraid of all that, what can he really be afraid of in general?

It’d be a lot easier to pick out things that Boom Eggman is afraid of as he evidently had fears and would show it easily. For example, he was scared of fake projector ghosts, so you could say he’s afraid of ghosts. That can’t be applied to modern Eggman since he encounters actual real ghosts in Cryptic Castle and he’s literally just annoyed rather than afraid lol

In X he has a hard time with bugs but I didn’t see it as a phobia. I think he doesn’t care until they do something to bother him. I suppose it could be considered a mild fear if he gets a bit nervous thinking they might attack him with all the bad luck he has with them. Since Charmy attacked him in Heroes, perhaps he could be a bit wary of bees. But it can't be a general phobia when he can still design robots/mechs inspired by all kinds of insects.

So the most I’ve headcanoned is that he has a few worries surrounding death and it's a common nightmare theme of his. You can find me talking about some of my ideas for it throughout my #nightmares tag, especially this post.

To try and summarize the general idea, his feelings about death are complicated as he's sometimes fearless in risky situations but there’s a part of him that has a bit of a fear of sudden death or running out of time and dying of old age before he accomplishes his lifelong dreams of his Empire. The ultimate defeat would be to die before succeeding in his goals and making an impact he’s truly satisfied with. And he only wants to die on his own terms if he has to, whether it means surviving or taking it into his own hands.

[sirgyrodegearloose-archive]

Really Long Character Survey

Rules: Repost, don’t reblog. Tag 10! Good luck!

Tagged by @themisfitmouse

Tagging: @genius-vondrake, @amadeus-aerinstat, @alphagearloose, @unclescrooge, @askflintheartglomgold, @thesmallestarchitect, @tempest-loupnoir, @the-queen-needs-us ...I can’t really think of two more people to tag who haven’t already been tagged by somebody else.

((Hoooo boy there's gonna be so many headcanons in this.))

BASICS.

FULL  NAME : Gyro Percival Gearloose

NICKNAME : Gyro, G

AGE : 28

BIRTHDAY : September 18th

ETHNIC  GROUP : Uh... chicken? I guess I kinda headcanon that he's got some Italian in him, but other than that, idek man.

NATIONALITY :  American

LANGUAGE / S : English (possibly others, but that's woefully all the mun is fluent in)

SEXUAL  ORIENTATION : Bi

ROMANTIC  ORIENTATION : Also bi 

RELATIONSHIP  STATUS : Single

CLASS : Uh... upper-middle, I guess? I mean, he's gotta afford all those parts somehow.

HOME  TOWN / AREA : Duckburg, Calisota

CURRENT  HOME : A workshop/barn on the south side of Duckburg, near the river

PROFESSION : Inventor/Repairman

PHYSICAL.

HAIR : It has never been consistent. Like... in DuckTales and the related comics, it's orange. In some of the old comics, it's light brown. In the Italian comics, it's bright blonde. I just... I have no idea, my dudes. Gyro's addicted to hair dye or something.

EYES : Blue

NOSE : He's a bird. He has a beak.

FACE : Uh... round? Covered in feathers?

LIPS : Again, he is a bird.

COMPLEXION : Pristine white feathers.

BLEMISHES : ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

SCARS : He's got a good few nicks on his hands, and probably a couple of other random scars from miscellaneous lab accidents, but nothing major. Plus, it's not as if you could see most of them anyway.

TATTOOS : None. 

HEIGHT : 5'5"

WEIGHT : Uh... I dunno, probably around 130-140? Gotta take into account that his bones are probably hollow.

BUILD : It varies. In some comics he's kind of plump, and in others, he's like a scarecrow. I'm gonna tentatively put him at athletic, with a little bit of a paunch? 

FEATURES : Big blue eyes, (usually) bright orange hair, slightly curved beak, glasses.

ALLERGIES : Blueberries, but he doesn't bring it up unless he has to.

USUAL  HAIR  STYLE : He basically just rolls out of bed and runs his fingers through it a couple times.

USUAL  FACE  LOOK : Lost in thought

USUAL  CLOTHING : Hat (with chin strap), button up shirt (usually pink, red, blue, or yellow), open black vest, jeans or khakis, work boots.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR / S : Failure, mostly.

ASPIRATION / S : He wants to discover as much as he can, for discovery's sake. To do things before believed to be impossible just to say he did.

POSITIVE  TRAITS : Generally cheerful, independent thinker, kind, clever, creative

NEGATIVE  TRAITS : Easily frustrated, bottles his feelings until he explodes, tends to run from his problems, occasionally forgets to take care of himself

MBTI : ENFP, but only just barely (x)

ZODIAC : Virgo

TEMPERAMENT : Sanguine (x)

SOUL  TYPE / S : Creator (no surprise there), followed closely by Educator and Helper (x)

ANIMALS : Apparently he's a Zebra (x), which is not necessarily something I would have chosen but I guess it fits? (x)

VICE  HABIT / S : Can be kind of lazy sometimes, major sweet tooth

FAITH : "The Powers that Be"

GHOSTS ? : Skeptical, but willing to be convinced

AFTERLIFE ? : Who knows?

REINCARNATION ? : He wouldn't discredit it.

ALIENS ? : YEs

POLITICAL  ALIGNMENT : He doesn't really bother himself with politics.

ECONOMIC  PREFERENCE : ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

SOCIOPOLITICAL  POSITION : Everyone deserves to be treated with basic decency. Beyond that, ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

EDUCATION  LEVEL : I'm gonna go ahead and say he's got a Master's in engineering, and then a bunch of random courses he thought would be interesting but don't actually add up to any kind of extra degree.

FAMILY.

FATHER : Fulton Gearloose

MOTHER : ??? Gearloose (Until I find a canon name, I've called her Tallulah)

SIBLINGS : It's implied he has at least one sibling, since he's got a nephew in some of the comics, but I don't think they've ever actually been seen

EXTENDED  FAMILY : Ratchet Gearloose (Grandfather), Copernicus Gearloose (Great-grandfather), Descartes Gearloose (Great-uncle), Newton Gearloose (Nephew)

NAME  MEANING / S : Gyro, as in gyroscope or gyrosphere. Gearloose, as in a literal loose gear.

HISTORICAL  CONNECTION ? : His great-grandfather assisted a gentleman thief in the 1920s. Long standing family ties to Scrooge McDuck. Gyro himself is a knight of the kingdom of Quackalot thanks to time travel shenanigans.

FAVOURITES.

BOOK : Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

MOVIE : Star Wars Episode V: The Empire Strikes Back

5  SONGS : 

Why Does the Sun Shine? by They Might Be Giants 

Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger by Daft Punk

Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds by The Beatles

Poison by Alice Cooper (kind of a guilty pleasure)

Don't Stop Me Now by Queen

DEITY : ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

HOLIDAY : New Years

MONTH : I don't think he really has a favorite month.

SEASON : Spring

PLACE : His workshop

WEATHER : Partly cloudy, 68F, low humidity, light breeze

SOUND : Clocks ticking, birds singing, keyboard clatter, that wobbly sound that laminated paper makes

SCENT / S : Freshly cut grass, sunscreen, baked goods

TASTE / S : Fresh fruit, anything sweet

FEEL / S : The weight of a wrench or a hammer, the texture of blueprint paper, working outdoors in the sunshine (or by a window), laying in a hammock

ANIMAL / S : Dogs, bees, butterflies, songbirds

NUMBER : 42

COLOUR : Orange

EXTRA.

TALENTS : Not sure if you'd really call it a talent, but he's canonically ambidextrous. 

BAD  AT : Cooking, singing

TURN  ONS : Not getting into that here.

TURN  OFFS : Not getting into this either.

HOBBIES : Baseball, soccer, fishing, bug catching

TROPES : Cloudcuckoolander, Gadgeteer Genius, Mr. Fixit, Identical Grandson,  and probably a whole lot more that I can't be bothered to keep looking for.

AESTHETIC  TAGS : Tools, metalworking, robotics, clockwork, spring and summer landscapes, baseball, soccer, orange, circuitry, beaches, Arthurian legends, medieval weaponry, castles, old sci-fi, space, cyberpunk, steampunk, science labs, dragons

GPOY  QUOTES : ??

FC INFO.

MAIN  FC / S : Rick Moranis

ALT  FC / S : Don't have one

OLDER  FC / S : ...Older Rick Moranis?

YOUNGER  FC / S : ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

VOICE  CLAIM / S : Well, his last voice actor was Chris Edgerly in the remastered game, but I don't think it's been confirmed yet who his new VA will be.

GENDERBENT  FC / S : Don't have one

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 : If  you  could  write  your  character  your  way  in  their  own  movie ,   what  would  it  be  called ,  what  style  would  it  be  filmed  in ,  and  what  would  it  be  about ?

A1 : I have no idea. It would probably be a campy, 80's style sci-fi though, like Honey I Shrunk The Kids or Weird Science.

Q2 : What  would  their  soundtrack / score  sound  like ?          

A2 : Lighthearted, but with a sense of wonder. It would make occasional use of odd instruments.

Q3 : Why  did  you  start  writing  this  character ?          

A3 : I had just rediscovered DuckTales and Tumblr RP blogs were starting to become this big thing that everyone did so I just sort of jumped on the bandwagon.

Q4 : What  first  attracted  you  to  this  character ?          

A4 : I've always loved nerdy, quirky characters. Being a ginger doesn't hurt either.

Q5 : Describe  the  biggest  thing  you  dislike  about  your  muse.          

A5 : He is usually portrayed as having human-like feet, which makes no gotdang sense. The ducks have duck feet. Cats and dogs have paws. Other chickens have chicken feet. BUT LET'S MAKE GYRO A WEIRD MUTANT, MWAHAHAHAHAHA! ...How about no? I'm just... completely disregarding that as canon unless there's an explanation for it. I'll even take a one off, throwaway comment. Otherwise, y'all can fight me.

Q6 : What  do  you  have  in  common  with  your  muse ?          

A6 :  A tendency to get way too invested in a project and forget to do things like sleeping or eating a reasonable meal.

Q7 : How  does  your  muse  feel  about  you ?          

A7 : He doesn't know I'm there, and I intend to keep it that way for now.

Q8 : What  characters  does  your  muse  have  interesting  interactions  with ?        

A8 : He has had some truly memorable relationships and interactions with other muses throughout my time playing him, and I don't think I could adequately cover all of them in just a little survey post.

Q9 : What  gives  you  inspiration  to  write  your  muse ?         

A9 : I've got a playlist of songs that remind me of him that I listen to sometimes. Other than that, I find inspiration for Gyro in some of the weirdest places, like my history textbook the other day, or a particularly scientifically inaccurate episode of Danger Mouse I watched the other day.

Q10 : How  long  did  this  take  you  to  complete ?         

A10 : About two hours.