#High noon talon

[aurelion-solar]

Talon & High Noon Talon in Wild Rift

[popawritter12]

yandere high noon talon headcanons?

Yandere! High Noon Talon headcanons

Author's note: I like the initiative they all of you are taking, I never seriously thought about making headcanons for this skin <;3.

Chances of your loved ones being killed

We are talking about a fucking DEMON who travels on a fucking train where they take souls collected from other people.

A solid 70%

Although let's talk about if they don't die for him, they die for any of his other demon friends.

First impressions

You were an inhabitant of a seedy town, you lived with your partner in a house somewhat far from the rest of the town. While they both lived comfortably, it was more than obvious that both of you dealt with demons or other dangerous creatures.

While neither of obth of them were demon hunters, they could manage to keep other creatures or humans at bay solely to maintain their survival. Mainly they knew about the powder train, and about the “horsemen of the Apocalypse,” so to speak.

Even with all the bad experiences you had with bad blood demons, you were looking for peace with one of these. You were not a pacifist, but if you could avoid a fight where you were disadvantaged, then you avoided it.

You loved your partner very much, but you couldn't spend much time together because of their job on the railways, so most of the time you spent it alone, with you and your animals alone, you were the “perfect prey” for any demon.

However, you had some tools to defend yourself. And although more than once you questioned to what extent you could defend your beloved home and your own life from those beings eager for some soul to take, in the end there was always only one conclusion; that damn train won't take you today, or tomorrow, or that damn year.

One night, you find Talon; you had heard your dogs barking constantly and annoyingly, and it wasn't until you went outside that you saw him on the outskirts of your field, injured and weak.

Against all odds you took him home, but to a secluded place, one where your partner couldn't find him.

When he was able to speak, he just thanked you. Although you wanted to treat him well, you knew demons well, and you especially knew that given the slightest opportunity he would murder you, and take your soul to that damned railroad.

You didn't talk much to him, limiting yourself to asking him how he had gotten to that place and what had hurt him so much. He hummed a vague answer about a bandit (Though the "bandit" was only begging for they soul to not be stolen), and while you wanted to ask him more, you only gave him the benefit of the doubt about his alibi.

You were too cautious when talking to him, and only healed him and gave him some hot food, also saying that he had permission to sleep in that place until dawn, but that he would not be welcomed in another room in your house.

He, although he had planned to kill you, didn't do it, not because he “was actually a good person”, it was because there was something that did not allow him to do so.

He always had the chance, he could sneak up behind you and put a blade through your chest, but something in his mind wouldn't let him. Something rooted in his heart still beating against all thoughts of his mind, justifying his actions, and all of that prompted a humble act of kindness on your part.

It wasn't until dawn came that, in his twisted head, there was only the thought of letting you live, even if it was to know more about you before taking you to the train, to the place you hated so much.

First murder or Yandere act.

Talon resorts to watching you from afar, hoping to learn why his mind refuses the idea of taking you with him, but the more he looked at you, the more he tried to get closer to you or learn basic things like what you like to eat, the more the idea of take you away from your lover resoned in his head, to finally give you closure rather than leave you to your fate against any horseman of the apocalypse or any other demon bold enough to take your soul and carry it as if it were his property. But something that was particularly like a stab in the heart was discovering that you were in a relationship.

He wasn't particularly zealous with humans, I mean, he basically doesn't care about humans, being that he could kill them whenever he wanted, and however he wanted.

But seeing how that person took you, caressed your skin or filled your ears with words of love while spreading kisses all over your body… It was like one of the worst tortures for him.

And he decides to take this person's life.

Your partner was just as kind as you, but exclusively with humans; any other creature would not enjoy the same respect that they gives to his peers.

However, he was more absent-minded than you; Working so many hours on the railroad led them to feel quite tired, more than a regular one; more so due to the fact that their boss was not particularly friendly or companionable to his employees. That gave Talon many more advantages than he already had.

In a particular day, when he saw them leaving work, he decided to act. And it didn't take long until your beloved partner arrived home; full of stab wounds, wounds to the chest and face, while they could barely breathe. The sensations he was going through were like a living hell for them. As soon as you managed to take them in your hands, you dragged him to a nearby chair, before going to look for medicine, the hope of being able to save him lay in your mind, over and over again.

But when you saw your beloved again, you had the misfortune to see him too.

A grimace of anger appeared on your face, as you yelled at him if he was the author of such an attack. The blonde didn't answer you, he just looked at the dying one: now that he thought about it clearly, it was the first time he felt a certain… satisfaction, a pleasure ran through his heart like a beautiful tingling that could only be compared against the feeling he had when he found you for the first time, when he had the good fortune to find a human who received him with such warmth.

And his hand approached the body of that person; the blood generating an aroma between intense and tense in the air. You immediately jumped on him, a cry of desperation as you tried to save your loved one. Your screams were just desperate questions about why he did this, why he made you suffer so much, but he didn't answer you.

With all the pain in his heart, he hurt you; pushing your body against the wall in a brutal and even savage manner, before taking the soul of the dying person in his hands; a soft plea coming from the wandering soul as the person looked at the demon, the only thing you managed to understand was that your loved wanted him to leave you alone, that he could take their soul if he wanted but not to harm you or make you suffer.

Relationship or kidnapping

It was very clear that he wouldn't listen to those words at all, right?

As soon as you managed to open your eyes, you saw the corpse of your loved one; dead, rotting while only subtly leaning back. In front of you was the demon you had previously received for a simple impulsive act of kindness.

And it's obvious that he takes you. but not to the train. In his mind, there was only the idea of how beautiful you were as a human; even with his certain disdain for that species, to him you looked so good like this; weak, sensitive and even submissive under him.

But he hides you in a place where not even the railroad demon could find you; No one knew about your whereabouts from the moment he took you away from everyone, and rest assured that it will be like this until the end of your days.

Coexistence

Very irritating for you.

The few times he is with you he seeks to pamper you, give you hugs and kisses, no matter how much you deny him, he will continue to seek that affection over and over again, believing that sooner or later you would give in and accept his love. And even though you knew that was very far from reality, he insisted, to a totally irritating point.

He doesn't usually punish you, he isn't attracted to the idea of hurting you, deciding better to only threaten you in a way that he knew could cause fear within your heart, however if you are too stubborn, then it can drive him to a pretty big point of anger.

Marriage and family

In case you're wondering, no, I don't see either of those things as possible.

I mean, in marriage I say we're talking about a fucking DEMON, and in terms of getting along with your family, well, let's just say that at this point in the story it's pretty obvious that he's no longer interested.

If possible, children?

Nah,

He knows the end is coming, but in his mind he only thinks about spending as much time as he can with you, without letting any other demon or human lay a finger on you. He already had enough trouble trying to convince you that he was okay with EVERYTHING he did, so it would be even harder for him to want to have a child with you.

Bad ending.

I HAVE BEEN THINKING THIS FROM THE BEGINNING

Suppose that, after the kidnapping, you are cornered by another demon or human, who takes you away from where he had hidden you, and when he notices it he loses his mind.

Like Zed, he is capable of moving HEAVEN AND EARTH to find you again, and when he does, he makes a decision… something that does disagree with the decision Zed makes.

He hugs you, fills you with affection and I even dare to say that he can sob; saying that he was so afraid that they would take you away from him.

His caresses are sweet, his words are soft as cotton, almost as if he's actually been afraid of you walking away from him. You could even hear his heartbeat; accelerated, almost as if it were about to explode from so much adrenaline.

You thought that maybe it wasn't so bad, that maybe he really wanted to defend you and love you purely, after all he looked for you even under the rocks just to find you and give you a hug and tell you that he loved you. But a blade in your abdomen interrupted you. It didn't take long before he gave you a soft kiss on your lips, his eyes overflowing with tears that run down his cheeks while his weapon pierces and opens your delicate skin like a hunter opening his first hunted animal.

He whispered regrets and apologies to you so many times that your ears grew tired of hearing it, as if they just wanted to stop hearing his broken voice, but he couldn't help but do so.

His heart sank in his chest, feeling pure regret for having subjected you to this level, yet it was the first time that everything surrounding this world had finally surpassed him.

And, the moment he took the hand of your wandering soul, he could only feel the hatred in your eyes, the contempt with which you looked at him; he took everything from you, your life, your reason for living, the person you loved most, the ability to see any way to escape, and now he claimed your soul as his own, dragging your existence onto that train from which you had escaped for so long.

He would not allow any other demon to claim that person's soul, and if he had to separate their soul from their body in order to ensure that fact, then he would do it a thousand times over.

Reasons to be a Yandere

-In the story “A Stranger on the Road” the same story tell us that he can feel regret about killing humans, even when it was something he forced himself to do. He is able to feel, and is able to know that his actions are wrong, so we can assume that he has feelings as basic as regret or love.

-He's not used to someone's kindness, especially in a time as complicated as it is, well, THE ENTIRE HIGH NOON UNIVERSE.

(This section is short since I don't know what to put to justify the space, I try to compensate in the data part)

Extra data:

-This version of Talon is the most affectionate towards you, and we can see that he is a little more emotional than the other versions.

-He is very curious about you; He may know everything about you but he would ask you what you like over and over again, until he hates everything about you from head to toe.

-He enjoys you caressing his hair, since he feels that being in your arms was the best feeling that he couldn't compare to anything.

-After the bad ending, he follows you throughout the train, even trying to prevent other souls or demons from touching you; It wasn't because of fear of being hurt, just because of jealousy.

-He usually takes care of EVERYTHING after he takes you to the train, wanting to lock you in a car exclusively for yourself, just to prevent anyone else from laying a hand on you.

-If you meet your former partner on the train and try to talk to them, Talon will react badly; he would take you away from that person, even if it included dragging you by the hand.

[lcathia]

High Noon Talon - Wild Rift

[edgysemi]

howdy 🤠🤠

[4thactsurprise]

if not gay why get matching skins lmfao

[asaarii]

cheeeeeeeseeeeeeeee~~~~ talon mini series bc i love him and he doesn't get like any love... ALSO HIGH NOON BC I SAID SO and yone legendary :33 okay time to disappear again ta ta

ft: high noon!talon (league of legends)

reader: fem

wc: 2017

summary: after the fall of heaven, you're left to wander the mortal plain with nothing but a dead-end job and a mark on your hand binding you to a brother who you once thought dead. they say the west is cruel, but you weren't expecting to be reunited with the man you loathed most.

part i (here!) part ii

There’s a distinct creak that echoes through the air as the swinging doors open. The bar silences, all eyes turning to glance at the newcomer from beneath the hem of their worn leather hats before deeming him not worth their time and returning to their previous activities.

His boots click as he slowly stalks toward the front of the bar, the odd blades at the ends of his cape rattle noisily, clinking together with every step. His face remains hidden by the downward tilt of his head, obscured by the pristine hat accented by rims of gold. It isn’t long till he takes a seat at your station, waving you down with a flick of his wrist.

As you approach, your breath hitches. He’s smirking, scrutinizing your every move with an amused quirk of his brow. But what grabs your attention is his eyes, well, eye as one of them is covered by a black eyepatch with similar golden accents as the rest of his outfit. There’s something not quite human about his gaze and devilish smirk, yet you don’t allow his strange aura to deter you. You had a job to do, after all.

“Well, ain’t you a pretty sight?” The man lets out a low whistle, his smirk ever-present as his gaze lands on your gloved hand, which you quickly tuck away behind your work skirt upon feeling his gaze. He quirks a brow but doesn’t push, which you’re grateful for. Heaven knows that the folks in this town are far too nosy than they ought to be. Sweat begins to gather at the base of your neck, though whether it's from the high noon’s unforgiving heat, or from his stare, you aren’t quite sure.

You force yourself to remain calm. “What can I get you today, sir?” The buzz of the bar does little to distract you from the alluring stranger as he lets out a deep chuckle. You fiddle with your skirt when he dips his head to the side with a shrug, brushing aside the feeling in your gut telling you to run. In all honesty, you really should’ve.

“Whatever you recommend, miss.”

If he took note of your apprehension, he gave you the grace of not commenting on it, merely watching you pour a small cup of water from a lukewarm pitcher. The glass is then placed before him with a resounding thud, with a few of the droplets splashing onto his clothes and the counter.

“There you go, a mighty fine glass of water all for you, sir.” You ignore his stare in favor of wiping down the now-wet counter. He snorts, and you know he has a wide grin plastered on his face even if you can’t see it.

“Just water? And here I thought we hit it off, miss.”

Now it's your turn to snort, narrowing your eyes at the strange newcomer with a sneer. “We don’t do freeloaders ‘round here, sir. Sorry to disappoint.” You turn away from him to make your way over to a different customer when the sound of a pouch of coins hitting wood draws your attention swiftly back to the newcomer.

The whole bar seems to come to a standstill as the shimmering gold rolls across the countertop.

Tobias Felix looks up from his shuffled deck of cards, blue eyes falling to the coins with piqued interest. It’s rare to see the man away from Buzzard Gulch, and you can’t say you find yourself at ease with his presence, especially when he keeps his cards so close to his chest. 

(Never trust a man with too many secrets; a saying befitting of your current predicament.)

The famed Gunpowder Witch lets out a low whistle as she props her feet on the table despite your numerous complaints. Her left hand dutifully twirls one of her guns—Blaze, you recall her naming it—while the other tightly grips a bounty from the Mechanical Devil himself. The amount in the pouch is significantly less than the amount on the bounty, but out here in the west, all coin is good coin.

Your nostrils flare and your eyes glint with an unmatched hellfire that would send the Mechanical Devil himself running with his tail between his legs. “Fine,” you spit venomously, “what can I getcha, sir?”

“A moment of your time would suffice.” The man leans against the counter, taking the hand that lay resting on the counter before placing a chaste kiss on the silk glove.

As if burned, you quickly draw your hand back, reeling away as disgust paints your features. “A moment of my—! Do I look like a common whore?!” Had it not been for the manager coming to step in, there is no doubt in your mind that you would’ve struck the man. With a hand firmly clasped over your mouth, you’re unable to voice your complaints as your manager smiles.

A dangerous look crosses the outsider’s face, but it’s quickly replaced with a mirroring plastered smile.

“Pleasure doin’ business with you, kind sir.” Your manager tightens his grip on you, sticking his hand out for the strange man to shake.

“Much obliged.”

With the tip of a hat and the snatching of coin, you find yourself in the devil’s hold, deliberately avoiding his piercing gaze as he leads you away from the bar. Dust kicks up beneath your feet, dirtying the whiteness of your dress into the same barren shade of brown as the dirt. Once you deem yourself far away from wandering eyes, you tear yourself away from him. 

“You!” You press your gloved finger to his chest, unable to withhold your thinly veiled anger.

“Well, hello to you too, darlin’.” He peels your hand off of his chest, once more placing a kiss on the back, though this time he removes the glove, revealing the half mark of grief inked into your skin. 

(One half on you, and the other on your brother; two sides of the same coin.)

“Miss me, angelface?” His tone is light yet mocking as he peels off the eye patch. One of his arms sneaks around your waist, pulling you flush against him, much to your chagrin.

“I ain’t ever miss a devil.” You resist the urge to spit in his pretty face. His eyes, forever soulless, burn bright beneath the scorching sky of the high noon, amusement dancing in the two-toned irises as he forces you into a crude waltz. 

“Naw, can’t hide it from me, angelface. You’re still as shitty a liar as y’always been.”

Twisting and turning to an unheard rhythm, his hand entwines with your ungloved hand; calloused and rough through years of merciless killing. You try to pull away from him but his grip remains firm.

“And you’re still a connivin’ sonuva—!”

His movements are sudden and hidden, yet still as precise as they’ve always been.

You gasp as a blade pierces through your midsection, the cold steel bringing the familiar feeling of a harrowing death as it pushes deeper. 

It burns. 

The mark on your hand pulses, no doubt your brother on the other end restarting the process of grief. 

Golden blood trickles from the open wound, tainted by mortal air and a devil’s blade. You can only gape at him as he smiles down ruefully at you, bearing the same expression he bore all those years ago. You grasp weakly at his throat in an attempt to choke him, unable to voice your anger and grief with the blood rising in your throat. Your body falls as he drops you, but your soul is quick to stand again, gazing down at your corpse as it dissipates into a golden light.

The barren land cracks beneath your feet as you give up resisting, giving way to the hidden tracks beneath. The tracks of utter damnation.

A train horn sounds in the distance, followed shortly by the distinct sound of wheels on rails, chugging along the beaten tracks as the Sulfur Rail draws ever closer. You smell it before you see it; the intangible scent of burnt matches and rotting eggs pervading your senses even as you scrunch your nose at its distasteful smell.

It isn’t long until the train comes to a standstill, pausing before the two of you with the deafening screech of metal on metal. The devil—ever the utmost gentleman—steps on first, gripping onto the rusted rail as he extends his other hand to you.

His smirk widens as you take his hand, conjuring a fan to hide your expression as well as an attempt to block out the Sulfur Rail’s foul stench. Its white feathers fall with every movement, fading to black before disintegrating as they hit the ground. 

(Similar to a lot of folks you know, your brother in particular.)

You tune out his conversation with the ticket taker both out of spite and boredom, focusing your attention instead on the multitude of souls meandering about. Angels, devils, humans—all on a one-way ride to hell, paid in full by the mechanical devil-king himself. You see a few familiar faces amongst the sea of souls, though one in particular eludes you. Shrugging to yourself, you make your way down the rows of seats, both empty and occupied.

Anger still simmers beneath the surface of your skin despite your lack of outward resistance. The man takes a seat across from you, his face schooled into a more familiar look of annoyance and perpetual anger, unlike his suave facade from earlier.

You hate how he still looks attractive after all these years of nothing but silence between the two of you. You hate how he speaks so casually with you as if nothing happened after the downfall of Heaven—your home. Snapping your fan shut, you look at him, looking for any subtle shift in his features brought upon by time. His frown lines, the imminent scowl that’s taken over the plastic smile he clung to at the bar, the shaggy silver hair beneath his hat, and you could never forget the hidden blades just barely peeking from the cuffs of his shirt and knives in the holster at his hip.

Nope, he’s exactly the same. Just as you suspected.

“Why didja bring me here, Talon?”

“Lookin’ for somethin’ and you’re the only one who can help me find it, angelface.” That all-knowing look in his back on his slappable face and your jaw clenches tight beneath your teeth at the mere sight of it.

Your hand clasps over the mark visible on your ungloved hand as if protecting the bond from outside gazes—from Talon’s gaze. “Varus ain’t gonna help you. I wouldn’t help ya if it meant all the gold in the world.”

He cocks a brow, tilting his hat back slightly with his thumb as he looks at you, really looks at you, “You ain’t never cared for gold before.”

Melancholy settles over the anger, cooling its hellfire-like blaze into a manageable ember. “People change, Talon, but s’good to see you’re still as insufferable as ever.” You’re quick to recollect your fallen expression. “But that ain’t the point. Why d’you needa speak to Varus anyway? Pretty sure he’s still got that grudge of his.”

“Can’t a guy catch up with an old friend?”

You bring a hand up to quell your growing headache—can the dead get headaches? You digress. You stare hard at him, trying to piece together what in the world he was on about. “Right. The two of you were such good friends, weren’tcha?” Sarcasm drips from your tone as you roll your eyes, and he snorts in response.

“We were pretty close though, hm? All cozy n’ warm.”

“I reckon it’s high time you shut your damn mouth, demon.”

Talon hums, raising his hands in faux surrender before finally allowing you a moment of respite.

Resigning yourself to an unknown fate, you lean back into the train’s seat with a tired sigh. “I ain’t spoken to Varus in centuries, y’know?”

“Why’s that?” He’s smirking again. That damn twisted smirk that’s seared into the forefront of your mind.

You hate him.

“‘Cause you killed ‘em.”

©asarii 2024 — do not copy, steal, repost, or translate any of my works on tumblr or any other site

[hodaiasuh]

︵ ࣪ . ︵︵ .

︶ ︶ ࣪ . ︶︶

High noon Icons 🤠 Free to use anywhere!

Don't need to credit but follow, leaving a heart and a comment are very much appreciated!

[kiseikis]

⠀｡･ ✩ ⠀ ┊high noon 2022 1/2 icons ♡ ─┈┈ ༣・゜

part 2. headers. prestige talon

like/reblogs appreciated. thank you! (｡・ω・｡)

[lillibuds]

devil’s blade, angel’s blood

[mercless]

“Fate is catchin' up to you, old friend,” Talon says, leaning back in their chair, predator's eyes gleaming under the shadows of their hat. They still move like a demon, even warped and corrupted by angel blood as they are. Their smile, rueful and knowing, has too many teeth: “The end is comin' for us all.”

[thescreaminghat]

in the high noon au viktor is nice to talon and the only one around whom talon is comfortable enough to drop his edgy tough guy attitude and be the weepy softie that he is deep down after turning half-angel and talon calls viktor ‘doc’ out of respect and makes sure viktor doesn’t get his hands jammed in the train engines when he’s fixing them and this is all completely true because i say so

[aurelion-solar]

Prestige Battle Cat Jinx & High Noon Talon Concept Art

[assortedvillainvault]

Hi! I was browsing the Lord Shen tag and found your blog 👀. I loved the headcanons for ShenxReader through the wolf henchmen's pov ❤️.

Would you mind sharing some headcanons but from the pov of the fluffy Lord peacock himself?

Hi Anon, thank you so much!!

I'm so sorry that my Lord Shen Masterlist slipped my mind - I'm fighting tumblrs atrocious tag search to find my previous writings for him and get them on there for you. In the meantime please - have some more!

Lord Shen x Reader Headcannons

- This stuck up, mithery, hairpin tempered ball of anxiety and condescension is officially your problem now. I mean. You chose this, so I’ll leave it to you as to what end of the bad choices scale you’re landing on, but man. You sure picked.

- I also can’t get over the fact that – in China and most of the East: white is associated with death and sadness, and mourning. You not only picked the unhinged genocide gun bird, you picked the only person in all of China to be literally born emo via albinism.

- I will get back to the above, but I’m mcfucking losing it over the image of Shen being. The smaller of the two of you.

- Like if you were a smaller creature he could properly get his elegant noble stride on, nose in the air and tail gently swishing behind him as he circles you, admiring every angle and relishing the nervous, excited little glances you give him. He might not be a strictly predatory species but he sure loves that thrilling edge of not-quite-stalking. He’s too high class for the genuine article, that’s what he has the wolves for.

- But if you had the audacity to be larger than him?!

- He’d grind his teeth if he had any. He wants so badly to intimidate you – making sure to step with an extra click of metal coated talons, words honey-barbed and sticky as he looks for chinks in your armour, having to crane his head back and up to look you in the eye and- look- could, could you just- just lean down? Lean down for goodness sake just- there. There. Lovely. As he was saying…

- Shen going to go bananas planning the perfect courtship. Everything must be. Exactly. As he plans it. God forbid you trip on the stairs. If you bribe the guards to move all furniture two inches to the left you’re going to have a great time watching Shen’s eyelid twitch for twenty minutes as he tries to figure out what’s ticking him off.

- Want a shortcut? Say nice things about his cannon. No seriously, it’s not a euphemism (though it could be-)

- The cannon is the culmination of Shen’s ambitions, the reason for his exile, the demonstration of ingenuity that set him apart. Seeing you run a hand smoothly over the intricate castings and complimenting his life's work is going to fill him with so many butterflies he’ll have the wedding ready by noon.

- Of course he does, underneath all the royal snobbery and sass, really, genuinely like you. More than he ever thought he could ever like another person. Go you.

- ...He can’t contain the terror that you might not like him back. Not because of all the murder, no, that’s clearly not the issue. But because he isn’t perfect enough for you. Because he’s not enough.

- Shen popped out of his egg all but rocking the 2007 bangs and MCR soundtrack of his time: born the colours of death in a house and species traditionally all the colours of the rainbow will have been like a self fulfilling prophesy – unspoken but not forgotten as he grew up and internalised his inadequacy by striving for excellence in literally everything else in life.

- Excellence in the form of weaponry, security, excessive control and genocidal ruthlessness. Combined with ingenuity, high intelligence and paranoia: all wrapped in a package of straining courtly manners and a need to constantly have the upper hand.

- You keep taking the fucking rug out from under him by reversing the script and being nice. Even his nanny (soothsayer, who has having a great time munching popcorn and giving incidental commentary) gives him shit and drives him up the wall – yet you’re out here, smiling (how dare you-) and- and saying he looks good (he knows, knows he looks sickly and out of place, a reaper amongst royalty-) and – of course you want to hand his hand really, who wouldn’t (who would?) - he’s fine, he’s fine-

- If he dared to let you go, he’d shatter like a discarded doll.

- How does it feel, reader, to hold the fate of all China in the balance of your smile?

[frogchiro]

Pierro be worshipping at his wife feet when they’re alone. Doing all cute couple stuffs and some spicy rough bedtime. If he’s a yandere all of this would be x10 which is just 😚.

Warnings : yandere theme, hints of blood and gore, hints of past noncon/dubcon, feeding kink.

Like

“My dear, can’t use your wrists? It seems I went to hard on you last night. No need to try feeding for yourself, don’t want it to be worse right?” He picked up your spoon which is not even full and re-scoop the stew again and again till he deems it’s an enough amount for you. But that’s scoop can’t fill a child while mouth.

“It’s still hot, I’d hate to see little you burn your tongue.” He said and blowing smokes from the stew. This time you agreed, the foods he make always hot like ironing your tongue especially when he adds spice.

“There we go, open your mouth.” Knowing it’s better to obey, you complied. It’s absolutely delightful and delicious with a bit of bitter iron taste. But that’s fine, it’s better than his bread soup.

“Let’s finish this bowl of stew, shall we?” This morning will drag till almost noon. You’re sure of it.

omg THIS ur so smart nonnie lemme give you a respectful kith, i've been re reading this since yesterday

warnings: yandere themes, dark content, yandere!pierro, possessive/obsessive behavior, mentions of violence/gore (not against reader), dependency, reader is a bit of a ditz, slight infantilisation, implied large age gap but reader is explicitly stated to be an adult!, fem!reader, 17+content, also possible spoilers for pierro's past

OKAY SO, imagine yandere pierro who indeed would worship his little wife, literally worship the ground she walks on, everything you'd ever think of, every little desire will be yours and he'll make sure of it but unfortunately everything comes at a price, a high price

pierro is the definition of the perfect leader, he has all the needed qualities; he's firm and excludes this dominant aura that commands respect wherever he goes, he's cunning and resolute, always knows what to say, when to say and how to say it, and although he's not much of a talker he excludes a type of charisma that draws everyone to him, you saw numerous times how he wields ultimate power and you knew from the first day that the lord harbinger, the jester, wasn't someone you'd wanna have a conflict with

but with all those qualities came also the much darker and apparently not so well hidden desires

pierro is someone who once lost everything, his people, his country and all of that because of arrogance, because there was someone smarter, stronger, wiser than him, because they didn't fucking listen and where did that lead his king and countrymen? to a bloody massacre and a lost kingdom

now he makes sure that you listen to every single word that drips from him mouth, in his mind he doesn't do anything wrong and can you really blame him? he just wants to protect you from all evil, you're the light of his life, the only good thing that's left in this sorry excuse of a world so he has the natural urge to protect

and it really helps him that you're still so naive, so young; sure you're an adult, but compared to him you've seen nothing, you know nothing about the cruelties of the world, the archons who dare to proclaim themselves to be gods

pierro loves it when you cling onto his broad scarred chest while you're both naked in bed as he tells you yet another story of his many glorious victories in battle, of every opponent he ruthlessly slaughtered, the little gasps you let out as the strong arm he has around you slides from your shoulder you the dip of your waist and lets his claws caress the skin there as he grins lightly, sharp canines glinting in the light of the fireplace at the little mewl you let out when he tells you to pay close attention to what he's saying, his hand slipping lower under the thick fur you're under

also he can't let you step out of line right? so he loves to gently remind you, the short albeit sharp talons digging into your delicate little face, that without him you'd still be stuck in that little hovel you called your home, cramped in one tiny house with your dirt-poor family in the shitty little backwater village where he picked you up from on one of his campaigns

he almost feels bad when your beautiful big eyes fill with crystal tears which quickly fall down in thin rivulets down your cheeks as you solemnly nod your head, a tiny 'yes i understand sir' falls from your trembling lips and it's then when his ice-cold heart breaks a little, he hates seeing you cry outside of the tears of pleasure while he's making love to you but this needs to be done, he has to make sure you understand that you're simply not strong enough to survive in the harsh world outside the palace, his tiny lovely wife

so he's quick to wipe off your tears and bring your face, this time gently, closer to his where he lays a chaste but loving kiss on your full lips and delicately touches his forehead to yours before he speaks in a deep hushed voice;

'i know darling, i'm so sorry but you have to understand, you're all i have and i can't loose you to man, beast or god. come with me love, it's late already so let's go to bed so i can properly apologise'

pierro rumbled and when he saw the wide, doe-eyed look in your eyes and the shy little smile that graced your lips he knew he had you right where he wanted to

after all, it's all for the best for you~

[4thactsurprise]

some sillies

[artbribery]

i was looking through the daily wikipedia things, as you do, and this was fun

the Ruddigore; or, The Witch's Curse, and the picture of the day:

depicts a scene from the opera in which the ghosts of Sir Ruthven Murgatroyd's ancestors step out of their picture frames and accuse him of not having committed a crime every day in accordance with the family curse.

which i didn’t guess was a common theme but i should’ve. there has to be a meme about the amount of times a ghost has come out of a portrait to haunt a relative.

then there is this about the song “When the night wind howls”

When the night wind howls in the chimney cowls, and the bat in the moonlight flies, And inky clouds, like funeral shrouds, sail over the midnight skies – When the footpads quail at the night-bird's wail, and black dogs bay at the moon, Then is the spectres' holiday – then is the ghosts' high-noon!

 that had an ancestor in the song “The Ghost to his Ladye Love” and it goes

Fair phantom, come! The moon's awake, The owl hoots gaily from its brake, The blithesome bat's a-wing.

if this isn’t dpxdc content waiting to happen. what with all the bat, bird, and ghost imagery.

Someone in Gotham has a problem. There are strange happenings happening and they call for help.

This might involve the Bats. This might involve a charity party. Like murder mystery. 

The “owl hoots” could be a reference to the court of owls

Maybe there is a gathering and the ghost of the talon’s mothers come to seek vengeance instead of being ancestors to a cursed lineage

(could just be the ghosts of the unwilling talons.. the place has a lot of them, who’s to say they don’t see them as expendable)

(i don’t actually know much anything about the talons or the court :D)

(MAYBE it’s just the bat family being the cursed lineage even through adoption and they have to deal with this every century or so)

(well. i mean, anyway)

The gathering is in one of the high rankings house, i have spontaneously decided it is that hotel owner i just barely glanced through

or for higher level of indulgent story telling, it could be happening at that Orchard Hotel that was founded by the father of guy who got talon-ed for running away to the haly circus (and maybe, say that it was conveniently where the talon-ed guy was stationed at? and maybe also dick’s talon-ed great-something-grandfather is there too,, for fun and profit,,,)

Understandably, there are no picture frames but there might be files and copies. Imagine a hurricane of pictures and papers surrounding the host and angry faces sometimes peaking out of them, maybe pointing hands and claws 

The women/people become a murder of ghost harpies (meaning snatchers, more wikipedia✨, they were said to steal food from their victims while they were eating and carry evildoers (especially those who have killed their families) to the Furies, the three main girlbosses on revenge and judgement of mortals(?) “spite, anger and destruction”

(tho this could mean anything, like the three furies could be three main ghosts/mothers that became more powerful than the others or 

actually be tucker, sam and danny sharing monarchy custody, as it says they are “daughters of hades and nix” meaning, yknow, death 

and darkness, so you could also say they are batman and red hood and nightwing in this context, idk)

(and that could mean that the someone calling for help was the harpies, which means maybe ominous messages and blood letters, maybe screaming and breathing on a call, or plain “anon tip” call for help)

this mostly has a little to do with the original start but i’ll find som- wait

bonus!

it’s ya boi john constantine!!!

he is the cursed!! the 👏 cursed 👏 lineage!!

Hear ye, this man already knew of the curse, and the curse is that he has to make deals with demons. trade his soul/firstborn or whatever away,

but he decided he didn’t want to just do that, it’s his soul and he decided to break tradition and began what he is known for

the ancestors are a little impressed but still 

every once in a while he will trade a bit of his soul to keep the ancestors from nagging too much. 

and once he hit the required age to ride that malefice roller coaster/curse, he got a too big family reunion of too cunning (read:smartass) and annoying relatives 

the thing is that his house is so magical that most ghosts of his ancestors could be there the whole time 

this is like dora the explorer only they are telling swiper to swipe, and so, john to deal with demons 

So: 

if i want to involve danny in this as the ghost king, and of course i do, it could be about him finding out: 

1, the amount of paperwork he has because of this guy, why is this his afterlife 

2, the guy is actually a heritage student in the very exclusive school of cursed, 

and 3, well, 3 is that now he has to help this guy become uncursed to stop the pile of work on his desk from growing and safeguard the poor smithereens of John’s soul

and his first order of business: being horrified by all the soul thing and tired from looking at the work ahead of him, 

second, because he doesn’t know about the curse, is to be indignant because why are these ghosts just encouraging him to trade his soul (something already terrible) but also make him more paperwork 

and then indignant and angry because they are shaming this guy into it and berating him “you haven’t done your chores”-style like What the hell?

Cue finding out that it’s a condition and being sympathetic and deciding to help

Bonding???

Bonus bonus? 

constantine ancestors: this one came like this, we are moderately proud

john: 🕵️‍♂️🤷‍♂️✨

danny: 👀👄👀