#been a while since I wrote anything for my beloved demon blorbi

[assortedvillainvault]

Chance anon here! Sorry if the is a duplicate ask, my internet is acting up. I hope you had a wonderful trip! I’d like some comfort headcanons with either a darksiders character or Starscream, please. You did really well with the Blitzwing comfort headcanons!

Chance anon your patience is legendary, I hope you like this little headcannon/drabble bit!

Mild warning for allusions of self harm, not described and can also be read as the general tolls and incidents of a human living through the apocalypse.

Vulgrim Comfort Headcannons/Drabble

- “What Would You Ask of this Humble Mercha- oh.”

- He blinks down at the awkward, shuffling form of his...favoured little human. Oddly, no other little morsels have accompanied you to his plinth outside the maker tree. From inside, he can barely make out the snores of the other survivors, and the slower but ever present clang of the Black Hammer at work.

- A closer look at you reveals red, swollen eyes, and a lick of salt on the air. Under your dirty sleeves, fresh bandages peek out.

- It doesn’t take much to deduce that the trials and grievances of the apocalypse are taking a harder toll than usual tonight.

- He floats a little lower and brings his voice down. “...do you need to forget, little one?” he croons.

- It takes a couple of...admittedly awkward seconds – but you nod shyly, hesitantly, and a small triumph blooms in his chest. See, he knew he’d figure out humans and their odd little ways eventually! All species could use a distraction from the monotony of war, humans just leaked a bit more often about it, thats all-

- - he stiffens as tiny arms grip at his waist.

- He is certainly on the scrawnier side for a demon, but even so, your bruised little hands can’t meet around his gaunt middle. Mainly because you’ve got your face awkwardly smooshed up against the wares on his belt, but even so...you’re on your tiptoes. Humans are so so tiny it’s ridiculous. Appalling species design. He’d file a complaint if he didn’t have to fight the foreign urge to urge to pick you up and squeeze like some kind of...squishy trauma-toy.

- “...Um.”

- He awkwardly uses the fingertips not encased in gold to carefully pinch your shirt, peeling you awkwardly off him and holding you up like a sad little rodent. He makes a concerted effort not to look at your wobbling lip as he does so.

- “Ah ah ah ah! No, no leaky eyes at me, little one. You know they don’t work...”

- His other hand frantically scrabbles about in the pocket dimension he uses to store his backup wares and dumps a blanket, packet of hot chocolate, mismatched slippers and a switch into your arms before plonking you down and nudging you back towards the maker tree.

- “there there hush hush etc -” he’s not flustered, nope -, “- No need to thank me, run along, I’m adding this to your tab-”

- He’s gone in a burst of purple smoke that is very much not rushed, thank you.

- Later, secure in the secure depth of his serpent holes, he idly listens to the background noise of earth as he waits for the next customer to swing by. Underneath the quiet wind, creaking brickwork, the distant roars of demons and the occasional lingering earthen bird, his ears catch the faint tinny of music, clicking buttons, and the happy little gasps of humans waking up to a game of whatever this...this ‘Animal Crossing’, contraption, is.

- (‘Your Tab’ is never something fully discussed. Vulgrim is fighting every instinct he has to get money out of you for his services, but it’s ok. He starting to consider your company, your time and your touch payment enough. Don’t ever bring it up though.)

Thanks for the ask Chance!