Reverse Galtean Klance Doodles ❤️💙 \(*´▽｀*）I Really Enjoyed Designing Galra Lance And

can you please write a series of headcanons for yandere Zenon falling for a nun female reader who is a friend of sister Lily and father Orsi?

btw i really love your writing 💕❤️

WARNINGS: FEMALE READER + RELIGIOUS TOPICS + NOT PROOFREAD

NOTES: IM ALIVE GUYS I SWEAR IM ALIVE. ALSO, I DID THIS ON A WHIM SO IT MIGHT NOT BE THE BEST. SORRY AND THANK YOU.

Oh, you poor, unsuspecting soul.

You're about to hop on a roller coaster so wild and unpredictable that even the most hardcore adrenaline junkies would pause and reconsider their life choices before strapping in. Seriously, who could have predicted that someone as cold and ruthless as Zenon—yes, Zenon, the guy whose hobbies probably include brooding and looking dramatically into the distance—would ever let thoughts of anything other than his missions and duties creep into his mind?

And not just anyone, mind you, but a nun? The irony is ironing. Zenon falling for someone devoted to peace and virtue? It’s like discovering the Grim Reaper secretly volunteers at a kitten shelter on weekends. But hey, life has a funny way of throwing curveballs when you least expect them, and Zenon catching feelings might just be the curveball of the century.

Zenon's interest in you doesn't start as love—oh no, that would be too simple, too human. Instead, it begins as a fixation, a curiosity he can’t quite shake. You see, he’s drawn to your purity, your unwavering faith, and that infuriating devotion to something greater than yourself. For someone like Zenon, whose life is steeped in shadows and bloodshed, these qualities are both intriguing and utterly alien. It’s like he’s found a rare, delicate flower growing in the middle of a battlefield—something that shouldn’t exist, and yet, here it is, flourishing despite the chaos.

Your kindness and warmth are stark contrasts to the cold, brutal world Zenon knows so well. To him, you're almost like a living embodiment of everything he's not—and, frankly, everything he’s never wanted to be. Zenon is perfectly content with his dark, brooding existence; thank you very much. The idea of being anything else? Laughable. But still, there’s something about your devoted nature that tugs at him in ways he doesn't fully understand.

It’s not love—at least not yet—but there’s definitely something there, something that keeps him coming back, if only to try and figure out why someone like you exists in a world like his.

Zenon doesn’t harbor any outward disgust toward religion—he’s not the type to waste energy on something as trivial as disdain. Instead, religion just makes him tilt his head slightly, those dark, intimidating eyes narrowing as if he's trying to solve a puzzle he doesn’t really care about. He’s genuinely baffled by how someone could be so dedicated, so selfless, so utterly consumed by their devotion to something intangible. How could anyone willingly bind themselves to something as abstract as faith?

If we're being completely honest here, Zenon probably finds the whole concept of religion utterly useless. In his mind, power is the only currency that matters, and in the face of overwhelming strength, everything else—including religion—seems trivial at best. He sees religion as something that would only hold a person back, a crutch that prevents them from grasping real power. After all, why rely on divine intervention when you can take matters into your own hands?

But does he care if someone else wants to cling to their faith? Not really. Zenon’s not interested in converting anyone to his worldview; he’s too focused on his own goals for that. If people want to hold themselves back with their religious beliefs, that’s their problem, not his. He just shrugs it off, filing it away as another incomprehensible quirk of humanity that he doesn’t need to understand and thinks it just holds everyone back.

But anyway—over time, this curiosity of his starts to twist and morph into something far more dangerous—an obsession. As this obsession deepens, Zenon begins to rationalize the strange feelings he's grappling with, trying to make sense of them in a way that aligns with his dark worldview. He starts to see your innocence as something fragile, something that needs to be protected—by him and only him.

Of course, Zenon’s idea of protection isn’t exactly comforting. It's dark, suffocating, and possessive. In his mind, the only way to keep you truly safe is to isolate you from the world, to lock you away where no one else can reach you or taint your purity. This twisted logic extends to everyone around you, even those closest to you, like Sister Lily and Father Orsi.

Sure, even if they’re like your family, even if you dearly love them with every fiber of your being, and even if Zenon knows all of this—he still sees them as obstacles. And let’s be real; that’s not exactly surprising. To him, they’re not threats, just hurdles he needs to clear before claiming his prize: you. I’m not saying he’d immediately jump to murder, but it’s definitely crossed his mind. Whether he goes that far depends entirely on how much resistance they put up.

Zenon isn’t one for subtlety or long-winded schemes. He’s not going to waste time orchestrating elaborate events to make it seem like Sister Lily or Father Orsi are in danger or untrustworthy—that’s just too much work for something he could easily solve by just killing them. He’s got power, and he’s more than willing to use it to carve a quicker, more direct path to you. If they become too much of a nuisance, well, let’s just say Zenon’s not above using lethal force to clear the way. Sorry, but in his mind, it’s a simple equation: they’re in his way, and he’s not one to let anything stand between him and what he wants. Of course, if by some miracle Sister Lily and Father Orsi step aside and let him through—though let’s be real, that’s about as likely as Zenon deciding to take up knitting—they might just live to see another day.

That being said, once Zenon realizes that he’s not just obsessed with you and that his feelings run far deeper than mere fixation, well, say goodbye to your freedom. Forever.

Zenon’s first move would be to isolate you completely, cutting you off from everyone and everything you’ve ever known. He wouldn’t hesitate to threaten the lives of those around you if it meant coercing you into submission. It’s just a necessary step to secure your loyalty and your obedience. He’d present himself as your only protector, the one person who can truly keep you safe in a world filled with chaos, danger, and evil—a world that’s constantly trying to kill that innocence you have. To Zenon, this isn’t just a twisted power play; it’s an act of love. He genuinely believes that by keeping you close, by holding you tight in his suffocating grip, he’s shielding you from the darkness that he knows all too well.

And yes, Zenon is the very embodiment of that darkness, the very thing he’s supposedly protecting you from, but in his mind, that’s just more reason for you to stay with him. You’re precious, sacred even, and he can’t bear the thought of losing you—especially after what happened with Allen. Oh how much you remind him of that sunshine boy, that bright light that was snuffed out too soon. He doesn’t want to experience that pain again, that devastating loss. So he convinces himself that this is the only way, that by keeping you close, he’s protecting both you and himself from a repeat of the past.

But while Zenon is dead set on “protecting” your purity as a nun, he's also not above trying to chip away at the very core of what makes you who you are. He takes a strange satisfaction in subtly undermining your faith, poking holes in the foundations of your beliefs whenever he gets the chance. He'll challenge your views on life, death, and the morality of your God, all while weaving in his own twisted philosophy, as if trying to make you see the world through his cold, unforgiving eyes.

As much as he’s intrigued by your devotion, it also kinda grates on him. How can someone be so unwavering in the face of a world as dark and merciless as this one? He might be your self-appointed protector, but there’s a part of him that wants to see you stumble—a lot, actually. Zenon’s not satisfied with just keeping you safe; he wants to break your spirit and mold you into someone who sees the world the way he does. He’s not just after your obedience—he wants your mind, your very soul, to align with his own warped perspective.

In fact, at some point, Zenon would likely want you to abandon your faith altogether. He’d see it as a weakness, something that blinds you to the harsh realities he believes in. In his mind, your faith and ideals are naïve, a set of fragile beliefs that will only lead to your destruction if left unchecked. He sees his efforts to sway you as an act of mercy, a twisted form of salvation. To him, if you could just shed those old beliefs and embrace his darker, more “realistic” worldview, you’d be stronger for it—stronger and safer, as far as he’s concerned.

So while Zenon might claim to be protecting your purity, the truth is much more sinister. He wants to strip away everything that makes you who you are, to rebuild you in his own image, and in doing so, bind you to him in a way that goes far beyond physical control. To him, that’s the ultimate act of protection: not just guarding your body, but reshaping your very soul.

Moreover, Zenon’s icy logic and emotional detachment would make it utterly futile to try and reason with him—even if you’re usually a master at persuading others. With him, all your skills in negotiation and reasoning would hit an unyielding wall. Zenon isn't the kind of man who can be swayed by emotional appeals or logical arguments. His mind is set, and once he’s decided on something, there’s no changing it. If you ever attempted to escape or reach out for help, you’d quickly learn just how unforgiving he can be. Any act of defiance would be met with swift and brutal consequences, the kind that would make you think twice about ever trying it again.

Zenon doesn’t see you as an individual with your own thoughts, feelings, and agency. To him, you’re a precious, pure possession—something to be guarded, controlled, and kept away from the world. He might speak of love, but his version of it is suffocating, possessive, and devoid of the genuine respect and care that real love requires. Instead of being cherished as a person, you’re reduced to an object of obsession, someone whose freedom and autonomy are sacrificed on the altar of his twisted affections.

In Zenon’s mind, the endgame is crystal clear. He’s convinced that by breaking your will and dismantling the person you once were, he can rebuild you into something that aligns with his dark, twisted worldview. If you were to ever fully submit to his control, he’d see it as a victory—a validation of his power and a confirmation that his way is the only way. But here’s the thing: that victory wouldn’t bring Zenon any real peace or happiness. Despite his relentless pursuit, Zenon is a man consumed by darkness, and even if he managed to break you, he’d likely find himself staring into an abyss of his own making.

The purity and innocence that first drew Zenon to you would be gone, stripped away by his relentless need to control and reshape you. In their place would be something hollow and broken—a reflection of Zenon himself. He might have you under his thumb, but the person he was so fascinated by, the light that caught his attention, would be extinguished. And what then? Zenon is too far gone to appreciate what he’s lost, but on some level, he would likely feel the emptiness of his so-called victory.

Overall, Zenon’s pursuit of you is more than just a desire to possess; it’s a reflection of his own inner turmoil. He’s a man who, in trying to hold onto something pure, only succeeds in dragging both you and himself further into the darkness. The very thing that made you special to him—your purity—becomes a casualty of his obsession. And in trying to mold you into something that mirrors his own brokenness, Zenon only deepens his descent into the void, leaving behind nothing but the remnants of what once was and what could never be again.

So I’ve been playing around with an OZ au mostly for designing fun. Here’s the designs done so far and a few doodles. 

Kagari´s legacy

se busca persona creativa que nombre al fenix :´v

Cada que veo mi cuenta, recuerdo que no he hecho nada con el avance de mi au (culpo a mi falta de memoria), así que decidí empezar con algunos headcanons para Akko (Diana aún es un dilema para mi, creo que leeré varios fics respecto a su futuro,a ver si así logro algún avance xD)

una disculpa sincera a todos los que saben dibujar animales, les juro que intentaré mejorar Q-Q (me duelen las manos, siempre trabajo en un formato enorme y tardo mucho para terminarlo :´D)

Espero les guste chicos, ¡lo amo mucho!

KURO WEEK - DAY 8 (FREE DAY): Magic.

“Lance - what exactly are you doing?”, Kuro whined, feeling the freshly closed wounds on his arm and back strain with the movement. The Blue Paladin decidedly kept his usually chatty mouth shut. Instead of answering– or even recognizing– Kuro’s defiant tugging, he gently closed his grip around Kuro’s flesh wrist a little tighter and pulled him along.

Only minutes ago they had been at the Castle’s med-bay, tending to his scratches and cuts. Their latest mission had been rough. Although it was supposed to be a simple in and out rescue mission, it had gone awfully wrong. As in, Kuro was happy he’d walked away with his flesh arm and legs still intact and attached to his body. Thankfully, the rest of the group had had more luck.

In hindsight, they should’ve known better. They should’ve been prepared for the whole mission to go sideways with how heavily guarded the planet they’d freed had been. But saving planets and whole star systems from the ones that once had created him was their job now. It was Kuro’s job now. And nothing, not even the most hopeless situation, would keep them from doing just that. Saving lives.

This whole concept, the mere thought of him being one of the good guys, still had the Galra hybrid feeling adrift and somewhat out of place. He hadn’t been created for this. For killing - yes. For fighting, shedding blood and tearing whole fleets apart - definitely. But doing so for a good cause? A higher goal? On behalf of the whole damn universe? Nope. Just- no. Kuro would’ve laughed his ass off at that prospect.

But times change you, a small voice in the back of his head provided.

Averting his gaze from the back of Lance’s head and focusing on their somewhat awkwardly joined hands instead (he was still new to the whole human interaction and physical contact thing, okay?), Kuro couldn’t hide the small smile creeping onto his face.

Not times, he countered. People. People change you.

It took one more turn around a corner for Kuro to know where they were heading. Lance had asked him to close his eyes. What for, Lance  wouldn’t tell. Not even when Kuro stated how he knew they were going to Lance’s room. The Cuban boy wouldn’t have any of it; simply shushed him with a finger to the clone’s dry lips. There had been a gleam in those dark blue eyes. A gleam he couldn’t quite pin down, but made him want to lick that delicate digit pressed to his lips.

“Just do it already!”, Lance huffed and playfully put one hand over Kuro’s yellow eyes, before he opened the door to his quarters. “Or you’ll ruin the surprise.”

Had he been smiling before, he was downright smirking now.

“Lance, I swear to all deities out there, if the surprise is you taking off your clothes right in front of me, I-”

His teasing died right on Kuro’s tongue and came out as a sputtered, choked sound when he felt two warm hands grab for the hem of his own shirt and pull it upwards.

What the-

“Don’t open your eyes”, came Lance’s voice - a bit shaky, but determined nonetheless. “Just-… Take that off, will you? But please be careful with those scratches on your back.”

It took Kuro a second.

Then another two or three.

His mind had gone completely blank, out of order, Kuro.exe had stopped working. His hands however - oh he’d have to have a talk with them in the near future about not acting on their own, pulling his shirt off within a heartbeat, just because a certain Paladin told them to.

Cool air hit his bare skin - thanks for that you little traitors!, he glowered at his hands for a moment, before screwing his eyes shut again, waiting for Lance’s next move. Heartbeat thundering in his ears and filling the silence that hung over them for a few moments before the smaller man carefully took his clawed bionic hand in his own flesh ones and led him to the bed.

Even with his eyes shut, Kuro could still smell it; the way countless sleepovers made his and Lance’s scents mingle and cling to the sheets and pillows, creating a whole new fragrance that filled him with a warmth he hadn’t felt before.

It smelled like home.

Home…

Something fuzzy, tingling unfurled in his chest at that.

“Okay, now sit down, please?”, he could hear the rustling of blankets being pulled back. Without giving a second thought to it, Kuro simply purred an affirmative sound and carefully sat down as not to disturb the straining and prickling wounds on his back any further.

When he’d finally arranged himself properly on the soft mattress, the hybrid heaved a sigh.

“And… what now?”, he asked, proud that the anticipation that caused his guts to twitch didn’t seep into his voice.

Around him Lance rummaged through the room, providing him with the softest wool blanket they possessed and finally turning off the main lights.

There was a soft pad of bare feet on the cold metal floor, followed by the now familiar feeling of a slender body’s weight sinking into the mattress behind him.

Lance shifted closer behind him, close enough that Kuro could feel his breath hit the skin between his shoulderblades. Warm hands crept up his sides until they rested on his ribs. Tender. Careful. So, so careful.

“Do you trust me?”

That question, though barely audible, caught Kuro off guard.

“Uh…”, wow, eloquent as always. “Y-yes? Yes, I trust you.”

He still kept his eyes firmly shut, but he didn’t really need his eyes to know what kind of expression flickered over Lance’s face when the smaller man inhaled sharply.

A heartbeat.

Then another.

“Okay.”

The soft hands at Kuro’s ribs gave him a reassuring squeeze, before Lance continued: “If I do something you don’t feel comfortable with… just tell me and I’ll stop. Got that?”

Another purring sound escaped the clone’s throat, followed by a small nod to make sure the other one saw his approval.

“Good…”

Before he could say anything in return, Kuro felt a hesitant pressure at his back. Warm and soft, barely noticeable, but still it felt like he’d been struck by lightning. His eyes flew open. Heat rushed to his cheeks.

The room around them was mostly dark, the only source of light being the warm yellow fairy lights, they had attached to the ceiling right above their shared bed.

There were soft blankets and pillows everywhere, effectively building a nest around the two of them.

And right in the center of all this cozyness there was Lance. Sitting right behind him. Drawing lazy circles into his sides. Pressing his ever so soft lips to the tender, badly scratched skin between his shoulders. Kissing him.

“W-what… what exactly are you doing there?”, the question came out as a high, squeaky sound that made him cringe.

Lance however seemed to have regained some of his confidence over the first contact of skin to skin. For he dragged his lips over the expanse of Kuro’s wide shoulders, right to the next cut, where they lingered, as light as a feather. A shiver ran down his spine, while Lance replied - lips ghosting over his skin with every syllable: “You know, back on earth we have that term ‘to kiss away the pain’. That’s what I’m doing here.”

“O-okay? And is that… some kind of Terran healing technique?”

Trying and failing at fighting off the major blush that set his whole face on fire, he finally gave up and opted for hiding it behind his hands.

Terran healing technique? Seriously?! What the hell, Kuro?

This… this was so surreal.

Kuro felt like combusting would be an acceptable reaction by now.

“No, you silly goose”, came the huffed response. “It’s called magic.”

And with that the Blue Paladins lips continued their journey from cut, to scratch, to bruise, to scar.

Until Kuro’s whole body tingled with the warmth they left in their wake.

Magic…

___

aaaand there we go. My final entry for the @kuroweek 2017. I’ve been longing to upload this for so long now!! Especially because I made my poor bean suffer like hell. He was in dire need of something good and happy. :3 I had so much fun doing this - all of my entries. This week was super awesome! Thanks!! :3

I’ve been wanting to do a thing like this for a while. Behold my amazing animu mongah skills there wow swoons

Couldn't make it gayer, sorry 💔

Madness

So, @theprojectava drew the beginnings of her fantastic Kuro and like most things I see of hers, I itch to write something. SO - in honor of Kuro Week, a short little piece spun out of her description and drawing! 

There was method, and there was madness. Kuro knew the Druids were capable of both, had experienced it himself through countless excursions into the Arena, under numerous torments all excused in the name of science and learning.

He would be a crowning achievement. A hero, a thing to be feared and rightly so.

Ah, but he wasn’t Kuro then. He was Zero, a starting place, a nothing and a beginning. He was the launching point for a counter-resistance. He would be everything the Black Paladin was not, and in that he was supposed to be better. But how did a nameless experiment prove itself more than the original?

A name was something that grounded. It gave meaning. It defined an existence.

And he certainly existed. You had to be alive to feel the pain, and you had to have a heart to know that some of this was wrong. Very wrong.

So, how did he define himself?

He knew he didn’t want this. He knew he wasn’t Shiroor Champion, that he wasn’t better because an entity in and of itself could not be out-made as it was the only one of its kind. He knew you could share blood and genetics, but a heart and mind were something all one’s own. And he didn’t want the Druids to suffocate either of those, for they were his, and they told him he was better than this.

Better than the forced fights in the Arena. Better than a mechanical arm. Better than the endless hours of torture on that cold metal slab of a table. Better than the monster they told him he needed to be because that somehow made him better than a champion.

The Druids tried to define him by their methods, trying to carve him out of pain and slaughtering his fears, trying to fortify him with a killer’s finely honed instincts. They tried to make him something lesser while claiming he would be greater. And he may not have known much, but he knew this was a lie.

Their words sat like snakes in the very core of his being, writhing over one another and threatening to strike if he made one false step, let slip one too-human word.

So, he learned.

He became ruthless, digging his hands into the worst of all he ever imagined he could be. He tore through opponents, standing in the crimson of desired victory, and held silent at the knives slipping beneath his skin and the way his veins would sing with fire. The fear of death slowly drained from his eyes as they spoke of him, of the ways to make him better, of how best to strip the human from his heart.

He embraced madness, wore it like a second skin until the Druids stopping whispering malcontent and started to smile. And as their words fell to quiet murmurs, just enough to remind, he knew that he could play this role, bit by bit letting the blood run out on his humanity with every win in the Arena.

Bit by bit building a wall of iron around his heart.

He was zero, a nothing and a somebody.

Ok still pretty ambiguous but I can’t resist a chance to show off my boy‼️‼️🔥🔥🔥

Here’s the original (static) art piece I made for this scene!

Blood dress ❤️‍🔥👀

[Emma from my webcomic Namesake]

“Deleted Scene” 

hello again, tumblr! 

long time no see, huh? i’m still not sure about coming back here…… but i hope i may share with you a bit of Good Omens content i have for now.

have a great day everyone!