#muse; stop living inside your head ! headcanon

[vilhelios]

— WAIT FOR ME / I'M STILL SOMEWHERE ;

( you're getting older without me and i'm getting scared ) ; in which rafayel still hopes that there's a life where this works — where you do not crush his bleeding heart in your hands, & he still loves you despite, despite, despite.

cw: not beta read; spoilers for abysswalker rafayel's "sea of golden sand" myth, "fragrant dreams" card, "siren's song" anecdote, & main story ch. 7; angst ; some fluff ; mentions of blood, injury & death ; theories + headcanons about mc & rafayel's past lives ; kinda pretentious rafayel lore analysis ( can't help it, i just love him a lot! )

"RAFAYEL, do you think we're lovers in every universe?"

in the stillness of the night, as he mindlessly draws designs on your skin with his thumb, rafayel lies through his teeth: "yeah. i'm sure we are."

it's all he can manage. how do you tell your lover—your dear, sweet muse, whose presence makes the sea of your heart ebb and swell—that you've wondered the same thing lifetimes ago, and know the answer with bittersweet certainty? you continue talking about an article you read, in the morning—something about "consciousness energy fluctuations" and "that feeling of deja vu" and "soulmates."

and rafayel wonders, humming along to your rambling, if that's what you two are: soulmates.

"i wonder what we're like." you sigh, burrowing your head into the warmth of his chest. surely you can hear the rapid thrumming of his heart—he can't help it, the organ so helplessly weak in your presence. "you're the most creative man i know; got any ideas?"

"i think," rafayel starts, runs his fingers through your hair, "there's a life where i'm a merman, you're the human i've fallen deeply in love with, and the barrier between the waves and the shoreline is all that's stopping us."

rafayel remembers being younger, lifetimes ago. he remembers swimming upstream, through a little river that becomes a smaller creek, settling by your quaint home. he remembers playing you a song on his flute, an elegy for lemuria that became your song. he still remembers your head peeking out from the window and the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen staring down at him. you were like sunflecks dancing upon the water's surface—dazzling—and he, denizen of the deep dark sea, couldn't help but fall in love. he gave you his heart, his blood, his voice.

"hmm... reminds me of an old fairy tale." you press a kiss to the beauty mark on his chest, your lips curving into a smile against his skin. right above where his heart is, where the proof of your pact would shine bright. "do you think you'd have gotten a pair of legs and we'd live happily ever after on land?"

"of course i would've." rafayel smiles.

(he does not think about the way his voice grew hoarse as he sung lemuria's elegy. he does not think about the dagger he'd clutched so tightly in his hidden hand, as you approached him on the shore. he does not think about the hug, the warmth of your body making his resolve flutter. the warm blood on his hands, in the water, seeping from the heart he once loved and now carved out and cradled. he does not think about returning to a ruined lemuria, everything he's ever loved ripped away from him in a night.)

"then i like that one. what about another? knowing how we quarrel, do you think we were royalty hailing from opposing kingdoms?"

"hmm, close. i'd say that i'm an assassin, sneaking into your lovely highness's bedroom window."

"hah! i can see that." his heart flutters when he hears you giggle. rafayel wishes he could trap that beautiful sound inside a conch shell, it almost seemed possible, the way it felt like molten gold—sunlight. "i'd leave the windows open just so you'd have an easier time coming in."

"glad to know you'd still fall for my charms." he finds it in himself to smile, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "even if it might not be the brightest idea, dummy."

"hmph, but if we still loved each other then, you wouldn't kill me." your hand reaches upwards to cup his cheek, a thumb aimlessly stroking comforting lines across his skin. his breath hitches at how naturally it comes to you. "you'd fall for my charms too."

(why wouldn't it? you've done it so many times before, as you—dear highness of philos—gingerly removed his mask. he, who was destined to carve out your heart; and he, who could not bear to do so, who fell apart in the warmth of your hold. any hatred he'd held in his heart for the humans that desecrated his home —beautiful, sacred lemuria— dissolved with each ripple of the lake you both had danced across on that silent night. how could he ever hurt his beloved, who in another life he'd devoted entire oceans to?)

"yeah." he breathes out, almost a chuckle. "yeah, i guess i would, your highness."

"rafa?" you murmur, words slurred with the call of sleep, ushered in by him running a hand through your hair. "i really hope that we're soulmates even if it's in the silliest lives you could ever think up. do you?"

(and he hopes for more, a case study in greed. he hopes for the most blissful lives with you—where he's the receding sea and you are the sands of the shore, or you are an anemone polyp and he is the rock you've decided to settle upon, or he is the deepsea fish that looks longingly upon the warmth of the sunflecks that dance upon the water. he hopes there's a life where this whole thing works: where you do not crush his bleeding heart in your hands, & he still loves you despite, despite, despite.)

and rafayel smiles, presses the umpteenth kiss tonight to your forehead, watches you draw closer into his hold. and then he whispers his little wish against your skin, as soft as a siren singing lullabies to a sailor:

"yeah. i hope so too."

a/n: on this lovely valentine's day i offer the rafa stans: angst 🤩 the ending was a bit rushed because i... was no longer in an angsty mood. this fic is very much so a product of a time where i knew less of rafa's lore (see: did not finish the myth) so there may be some lore inaccuracies ... please do listen to berenstein by the band camino!!! l&ds' plot feels like an amalgamation of some of my favourite songs (berenstein, heartbeat by bts, isohel by EDEN)... and it's just such a good plot so far. please send me rafa lore stuff/general thoughts bc i'd love to try and play around with some of them (i have an idea for his birthday fic already) ,,, i'd love and appreciate you immensely ♡

[midnightanxietytm]

Hello! I've never requested a writing before. Do you perhaps ... do fluff? Hurt and comfort? I probably should have read all the rules before, but what I skimmed doesn't discouraged it? Anyway, someone headcanoned that the chain cuffs Narinder had on his wrists had spikes in them to prevent them from being moved around, so I would like to request the Lamb tending to Narinder's wrists for the after effect damage of such binding, mostly after being dethroned and Narinder stays in the healing hut to recover. Bonus if you could make him into a lion.

Have a pleasant week grace you, drink water and rest regularly.

A/N: I can in fact, make some hurt/comfort, glad you asked! (the fact that its comfort and not confort still boggles my mind) Anyways, I derailed a bit on this one but I hope you like it either way.

Contents/Warnings: Mentions of ritualistic murder and suicide, mentions of wounds and cuts, brief look into the weight of immortality and godhood.

Summary: Lamb visits Narinder in the healing hut and muses about their relationship.

They probably shouldn't be there.

Narinder had been screaming and thrashing around for days now, yelling nonstop about his godhood, about his divine right, cursing the lamb non-stop until the poor rabbit in charge of the healing hut had to sedate him just to be able to treat him. Lamb imagined they were the last possible person he’d like to see. 

Still, they walked inside, carrying their usual sweet smile and a basket full of camellias. Marie, the poor rabbit in question, sighed in relief upon seeing them, and bowed her head in respect; “Glorious Leader, praise be thy name! The- uh… Lion(?)  is still asleep, but he might wake up soon.” She reports dutifully. The Lamb nods and places the basket in her hands.

“Thank you, Marie, please go put those in storage, I’ll watch him while you’re out.” They order, and she’s quick to obey. Lamb moves to sit by Narinder’s side as soon as she’s out of sight.

He appears to be in a dreamless sleep, and a quick peek into his mind confirms that, if it’s a blessing or a curse, they can’t tell, but his mind surely isn’t plagued with the sort of thoughts and memories to make for good dreams, no thanks to them.

Yes, they feel guilt, somewhat. They never wanted to believe their beloved god, the one that had given them a new life with doting followers and the prospect of a new world, would simply sacrifice them once they ceased being useful, despite the warnings. And when the time came, he was fueled by all the repressed rage at once, and drove a blade through their savior’s heart. Surely they had a lot on them to make guilt fester like an ugly infection.

They moved a hesitant hand to coop Narinder’s; his wrists were bandaged, and underneath them, the rash lines of cuts, bruises and punctures remained, and the Lamb thought that, if anything, at least he was free of those dreadful chains…

The guilt still clenched at his heart, like claws grabbing it and trying to tear it out, but rage was still burning within it; after all, was this cat’s lust for power not the reason he was placed on the beheading block? Wasn’t it his lack of contempt for his domain that doomed them both in the first place?

A careful thumb is swiped over the bandages; a soft act. But then again, now that The Lamb fills the role of death themselves, they can see why someone wouldn’t be satisfied by it… It’s bleak, to see every living thing lose its life, and they can’t fault Narinder for searching for solace in the prospect of resurrection and building new life…

“I… sense your weakness, usurper…” Came the weak and drowsy voice of his former God. The Lamb chuckled, but Narinder paid it no mind, he wished to be heard. “You will fall, I’ll see to it…”

The medication was clearly still in effect; his eyes, all three of them, were half-closed, and he seemed as if he was struggling to form the sentences in his head. Lamb offered them a sad smile. “The crown has chosen, Narinder, you know this…” They say softly, and raise his hand carefully to place a kiss upon his bandaged wrists, they smell blood right underneath it, it’s staining; the hot, flowing blood of someone who is living. “...Rest, for as long as you wish, when you’ve recovered, when those wounds and the scars they leave finally fade, then I’ll lay my life to you. If you still wish me to do so.”

They quickly prodded into his mind again, and gently nudged him back to a dreamless sleep. 

Narinder, not used to the fleeting mortal memory, would forget their words, but the vow would settle the anguish in The Lamb’s heart for centuries to come; their last gift to their deity; a reprise from the suffocating godhood, that was enough for them.

Meanwhile, the deity of the New Faith unwraps the stained bandages around their beloved fallen god’s wrists, and dutifully replaces them with clean ones, even though those clawed hands belonged to the one who wished to coat his freedom with their blood.

Such a weird thing is devotion, thinks the lamb, that it can be freely given even though pain, yet only received in love.

No matter, the Lamb would keep their prayers, their whispers begging for forgiveness and their adoration, until Narinder was ready to receive it. But while he was asleep, they would care for his wounds and bear the heavy crown.

A/N: I like to think that Marie couldn't really tell if Narinder was a lion or not because he was kinda malnourished and his mane was ragged and short because of the chains pulling on it constantly. Anyways, AITA for reducing my former god to a mortal form so he can experience true freedom even if I took his godhood for myself in the process?

[wardenmages]

Okay so after that "didn't die when they should have died" post earlier I just rambled for several paragraphs into a semi-coherent fic about Gavin's PTSD in Detroit Reawakening and Detroit Evolution, with some mention of Detroit Absolution/D3. This is a fair amount of headcanon as well as my interpretation of certain scenes.

So here is some musing on Gavin's presentation of PTSD and how healing isn't linear and doesn't end but sometimes the people we love make it a little bit easier to live with it, and that sometimes healing means leaving situations we didn't realize were hurting us because it was better than where we started.

-----------

Gavin startles easily and violently. One time a rookie who didn't know any better tapped him on the shoulder and he spun around and decked them in the middle of the bullpen before his brain kicked in to follow his fist. He wears a heavy jacket because it muffles the world around him into a dull ache rather than a constant prickling on his skin down to his bones.

It's easy to tell when he's pulled an all-nighter from the pile of disposable coffee cups on his desk - he didn't have time to clean out a mug every time he went back for more. He's even less patient and understanding than usual. On particularly bad days, people watch him roll his shoulders and touch the back of his head to chase away bruises that healed on the surface years ago.

He's made a name for himself handling drug cases, but he can see Fowler wishes he'd take anything else. It makes him bristle and dive even further into his cases, because fuck Fowler if he doesn't trust Gavin, Gavin earned this. As the faces become less and less familiar, Fowler stops giving him that look whenever he goes in for supervision, and Gavin doesn't know if that means he finally proved himself or if Fowler was just waiting for Gavin to run out of options to run.

He keeps just about everyone at arm's length, except Chen and Miller. He's known Tina for years, since he was still an intern and she was working three jobs to pay for college. It's easy to like Chris, who is one of the most genuine guys Gavin's ever met. He jokes to himself that he doesn't know why Chris became a cop of all things, but he doesn't know why he's a cop either, so he lets it sit. Neither of them complain when he smokes, they don't push beers or shots into his hands at the bar, and push back when he's being a shit. For about a week he has a crush on Chris and his big cheesy smile that lights up the room and holy fucking shit he's got it bad, but he pushes it back because he only has two friends at thirty years old and he knows he's not exactly fun to be around.

Sometimes kids come through the station in his cases and it fucks him up for days. He stares at their records, a mess of foster homes, charges written in and then crossed off if they didn't stick, and notes from the overloaded caseworkers who can't even spell the kids' names. He thinks about his apartment and how it feels so big but so small at the same time, there's a spare bedroom he just uses for storage that he could clean out, he has enough savings to get furniture and shit. He keeps a tab open with the sign-up to get certified to foster. He thinks about making the system better from the inside.

He knows that's not how it works, not in the real world. The kids move on to the next house or their parents, and Gavin closes the tab and tries not to look at his badge. The next time he sees their names he pretends he never thought about them and that arresting them actually means something.

He doesn't sleep much, maybe three to four hours a night. It's impossible to fall asleep when you know it's not going to last long before your own brain betrays you. He wakes up from another nightmare, body stiff and covered in sweat, and just curls in on himself until he can force his body back into submission. It's a battle of wills more than something he needs to stay alive.

Nines helps. God, Nines makes everything feel lighter, and he stops sinking from the weight around his neck. It's still heavy and he can't help but bite whatever hand is held out to him, but it's more than bearable, he's alive.

His second near-death experience, lying on the floor of the precinct clinging onto consciousness through the numbing mess of pain and nerves at their breaking point, he nearly fades out just to make it finally stop. He wakes up in the hospital hours later terrified at how easy it was to just slip away.

He won't let it happen again. He's nearly died twice - really, truly close to death, not just in danger - and it didn't take. He's too stubborn to go out, not when he finally gives a shit about his own life and the people around him do more than just tolerate him and his friends are all moving forward and... he wants to move forward too.

So he quits his job alongside his partner. He doesn't push down how he feels about it, how as grateful as he'll always be he feels used by the system that kicked him down in the first place. He works with the kids at the shelter and talks them off the ledge. He doesn't foster, he's still adjusting to living with Nines and both of them love their privacy too much, but sometimes the kids stay the night with permission if they're struggling at the shelter. A few stop by their apartment first before even approaching the shelter.

He doesn't always know what to do or say, how to help, but he tries. He tries, and he tells them he better not read their name in the news unless it's for some kind of award. Newspaper clippings aren't a thing anymore, but he prints them out whenever he sees them, kids taking time to hang out at one of the senior centers or work in one of the urban gardens or a mentoring program with some androids, anything good. He tacks them up on the wall of his small, shitty office that never gets warm enough or cold enough but Nines brought in a couple of his plants and there's some art on the walls from Tayla and a bunch of framed photos around the place so it feels more like home.

He wakes up from a nightmare, body stiff and covered in sweat, to Nines pressed against his back holding his hand and massaging gentle circles into the tender skin where his prosthetic meets his hand. He clenches his jaw and tries to focus on the way Nines' fingers feel, the gentle glow from the edge of his skin overlay, his simulated heartbeat and breathing that Gavin knows he's amping up so Gavin can feel it.

After a few minutes, he closes his eyes and drifts back to sleep to the sound of the cat scratching at the door frame, and breathes.

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

May I please request 🫀,🏉,💥, 👓, 💍, 🏛, 🧭, 🚓, 🧬, 📖, 🤱, ⏰, 🚌, 🥀, 👊, 🩹, 🌊, 🏭, ⚰️, 🦁, 🔒, ⛓ for Peter? I love the short king. He and his troupe deserve the world.

whewww this was a long one but I love it!

our babiesssssss ToT

headcanon memes inspired by things i like, part 3

[ 🫀 ] does your muse make decisions with their head or their heart? perhaps a bit of both?

Heart, full stop. While he’s definitely capable of thinking critically, he tends not to unless it’s a really heavy decision. He does overthink big decisions, so much so that his mind and feelings get too laden down. Most decisions, however, he often just reacts without using his head too much. He likes to think he’s not an emotional person; he very much is, it’s just that he conflates ‘emotional’ with ‘weepy’. His heart almost completely rules over his actions even if he doesn’t think it does.

[ 🏉 ] would you say your muse lives up to their potential? are they trying to, or could they care less?

In all reality, he probably doesn’t, and the reason is simple. Because he can’t. He’s never been given the chance to live up to the potential he has. He’s been on the streets most of his life, mistreated and misled, made fun of, lied and made to do other people’s dirty work. It’s made him stop believing he even has any potential within him, so he gave up on trying a long time ago. It’s not that he doesn’t care about his potential; it’s that the world has fed him the lie that he doesn’t have any. He’s not good for anything, so why even try? Deep inside him there’s a loyal, passionate man who could set the world in fire in the best way, but… he never had the opportunities, and he’s lost the motivation to be anything other than someone’s angry puppet.

[ 💥 ] is your muse protective of those they care for? if so, how do they show it?

Peter is insanely protective of the people he cares about. Mostly his family, also his S/O and when/if he has children. If someone fucks with the people he cares about, that person better pray God strikes them down before Peter gets his hands on them. His preferred method of keeping his precious people safe is to get physical, probably because it’s really the only way he knows to keep them safe. It’s as if his size stops mattering, and he gets easily just as vicious as any bigger man. He shoves, punches, kicks, yells, in order to get any threat away from his family. There’s almost nothing he won’t do to protect the people he loves… which is perhaps his best quality and fatal flaw all in one.

[ 👓 ] does your muse tend to judge others, or are they more open-minded?

He does his best not to judge people, for the simple fact that neither he nor his family would have suffered if other people hadn’t judged them. Who is he to look at someone else and assume he knows anything about them? Even if someone looks or seems strange to him, at most he’ll make what he thinks is a casual comment. Otherwise, who cares? Except… he doesn’t trust. His biggest thing is assuming that everyone else is out to get him and his family, everyone looking out for themselves, and whether he thinks it does or not, that judgment absolutely colors his opinions of and behavior toward other people.

[ �� ] does your muse have trouble committing to others? are they comfortable being this way, or would they prefer to be different?

Commitment issues is one way to put it, certainly. Whether it’s committing to friends or lovers, he struggles to form long-term relationships. Sometimes people are insulting and degrading or think he’s ‘too close’ with Wendy, so he has reason to push them away. But sometimes it’s his own mind telling him to run, so it’s… difficult not to listen, when his life has been so challenging thus far. He knows it hurts people, and more importantly it hurts people who he might care about. So it’s not as if he likes being this way. It’s the way he’s lived so far, so it’s not that it isn’t comfortable; it fits him the way a broken-in, falling-apart pair of shoes fits. He knows it isn’t a good way to live, he just… doesn’t know how to go about things any other way.

[ 🏛 ] does your muse have any strange interests? do they keep these interests to themselves, or are they comfortable sharing them with others?

In the quest to keep things for as long as possible before buying anything entirely new, Peter’s actually become quite good at sewing. There’s no spare money for a machine, obviously, so he does it by hand, and that’s how he prefers it. For whatever reason, he finds sewing to be relaxing, the repetitive motions letting his body almost go on autopilot. Even though it’s technically more work after a long day, he enjoys sewing and mending things. However, he’s also a bit insecure about it, thinking that people already don’t look at him as a ‘real man’, so he doesn’t want anything adding fuel to that fire. That is, unfortunately, a byproduct of the time with people considering sewing ‘women’s work’. (He’s a little like Charles Grey in this respect, not wanting to be viewed as feminine.) So except for his sister and possibly his S/O, he keeps this hobby to himself. Funnily enough, if something needs mending, Wendy takes it, and everyone is convinced that she’s the one doing the sewing, when in reality Peter refuses to let her touch anything that needs mending. He’s not about to have to redo all her sloppy stitches so they actually hold worth a damn!!

[ 🧭 ] does your muse consider themselves a good person? why or why not?

Absolutely not. Much as he wants to be, he truly doesn’t think that he’s anything other than bad. And there are a million reasons why. The most obvious is that he and his family follow the Baron’s orders, which are incredibly unsavory ― putting other people, children, in what is undeniably danger, for the selfish hope that the rest of their own family will be saved? He thinks that’s monstrous and he hates himself for it, and he knows the others do too. The other big reason is his temper. Someone who’s constantly angry, walking around the world and snapping biting remarks at people who might not always deserve it, doesn’t sound like a good person to him. He’s almost stopped thinking of himself as a person in general at this point. His self-image is that of a horrible, miserable, bitter little creature who’s simply waiting to die.

[ 🚓 ] has your muse ever been arrested? if so, what for?

If not outright arrested, he’s done “a night in the cells” many times whilst on the streets. Not so much nowadays in the circus, but in his youth? He could easily spend a night in a prison cell once every couple of weeks, sitting there overnight and released in the morning. Three guesses as to what he was put in for. The local law enforcement knew him by name, especially before he and Wendy met up with the rest of the troupe. Peter would get into a fight with another man, be rounded up for (depending on the officer) “public nuisance/disturbing the peace” or “bodily harm to another individual”, and stew in his anger overnight. Then, Wendy would come collect her brother in the morning and he’d apologize to the officers. … And so went the vicious cycle until the group he’d come to call family banded together. (Of course, even after that, he would still get thrown in a jail cell overnight, but much less frequently.)

[ 🧬 ] how important is family to your muse?

It’s the most important thing. Not even a question, his family is above literally everything else and he doesn’t know how anyone couldn’t feel that way. He’d include his S/O in his family as well, for the fact that he defines family as the people he has who stick with him, who don’t just care about themselves. Save Wendy, the other troupe members aren’t related to him by blood, and he still thinks of them as family. He would do anything for his family, any terrible act he had to commit (with a couple of exceptions), any sacrifice he had to make, he’d do it. You threaten his family? Give your heart to God, because your ass is Peter’s, and he will kick it thoroughly. He would go so far as to die for his family, and he’s consistently shocked that not everyone feels that way.

[ 📖 ] does your muse keep a diary or journal? what do they, or would they, write in a journal?

He doesn’t. The most glaring reason why, aside from it being a waste of money to buy a bunch of paper, is that he can’t really read or write. He knows just enough to be able to read and write his name and Wendy’s, and possibly the other first-stringers’. He can speak beautifully (if with an accent that some find ‘unintelligent and uncouth’), but the written word almost completely escapes him. He can’t form letters and string them together to create words and sentences, so there’s no point in him trying to keep a journal. If he could read and write better, he probably still wouldn’t write in one. He views his life as a rut, so he thinks his journal would be a lot of the same or similar entries. Why bother writing that shit down? It happens every day, and it would be boring to read, and it would just make him angry to look at.

[ 🤱 ] does your muse want to have children? why or why not?

He… does, and doesn’t. To him it’s the same as a dream of becoming a retainer for the Queen ― that is, probably technically possible, except that it’s so unlikely to happen, one is better off keeping it in a fantasy. It’s a far-off dream that he doesn’t think it’s ever going to happen. If he met someone, and he suddenly had the means to take care of children… God, he would without a doubt want that. His biggest fear is that whatever condition he happens to have, any child he would father would inherit it. And while he knows there’s nothing wrong with him in the sense that he deserves to exist just as he is, he’s suffered. He wouldn’t want to bring a child into the world, who’s just like him, who would suffer the same ways he has. What would be the point, bringing a life into the world just to hurt? Some part of him still clings to that dream, though, still wants it, because… well… he is obviously very capable of love. He knows he could love a child, he can see himself raising a little one, and as long as he could be sure he’d be able to provide for them, he’d do anything for them.

[ ⏰ ] does your muse tend to cling to the past, dream about the future, or look to the present?

Most of the time, he tends to just focus on the present. While he does have moments where the demons of the past haunt him, or he gets caught up in dreams of a future, he stays quite grounded, surprisingly. To him, the past has already happened, so there’s no changing it, which means he shouldn’t dwell on it too much. And the future doesn’t even exist yet, so all he can do is plan for it, not let worry sink its teeth into him about things that haven’t come to pass. He’s oddly reasonable about this part of life. What would it help, obsessing over the past or tying his mind into knots about the future? If he concentrates on what’s going on here and now, he thinks he’ll do fine.

[ 🚌 ] what haunts your muse? is there any event in your muse’s past that they can’t move past?

Speaking of the past not haunting him too much, there are only a few things that crop up and torment him. They’re not even specific events as much as they are general things, like the way the rest of society has treated him and his family. He can’t seem to move past it, and is stuck thinking that everyone looks at him the way people looked at him and his family while they were on the streets. There are times that he’s internalized it all so much, the memories grab him by the throat and won’t let go. Although it doesn’t happen often, when it does… it’s not pretty.

[ 🥀 ] what are your muse’s standards for a romantic partner? are they realistic? why do they have these standards?

Honestly, he likes to think he has pretty low fucking standards. Just be a kind, decent person with some semblance of a spine, and he won’t have a problem being in a relationship with someone like that. He has a few boundaries, a few behaviors that rub him the wrong way which are deal-breakers, but overall his standard is Don’t be an arse, don’t be a doormat. Any romantic partner he has also can’t poke too many jokes at his size. A couple, once in a while, perhaps a small string of them to tease occasionally? Fine. He makes jokes at his own expense too sometimes. Every day, and/or keep coming back to it as if it’s the only thing that’s funny? Nope, they need to have a talk. His reasons are pretty simple; he can’t deal with people who just roll over and let people walk on them, because that’s a good indicator that they won’t stand up when it counts. However, people who are too abrasive and not kind grate on his nerves, because he’s lived through too much of that crap already. As far as the short jokes go, he’s heard them all a million times, so he can laugh at one or two on occasion… too many, all the time, reminds him of being on the streets, and it makes him feel like he’s just there for his partner to make fun of. He’s actually pretty reasonable with his standards for a romance.

[ 👊 ] does your muse favour nonviolence? will they be violent if needed? do they revel in violence?

Hahahahaha… ah, well, no. Peter isn’t a pacifist by any means of the word. He isn’t necessarily trying to avoid violence in general, although he won’t get violent if he doesn’t think the situation calls for it. He also gives quite a few warning signs of anger before he starts to get violent, sort of like the way a cat will hiss at you to back off several times and only scratching or biting if you don’t. He will for sure be violent if he needs to be, because it apparently comes easier to him than to some of the rest of his family. He doesn’t exactly revel in violence… it’s not as if he feels like he’s only alive while fighting or that his sole purpose is to throw punches. It does feel like a good stress reliever if he reaches the point where it needs doing, so unless he hurts someone he cares about, he usually won’t feel any kind of guilt toward getting a bit violent.

[ 🩹 ] does your muse prefer to keep the peace or rock the boat? are they a mediator, or do they tend to make others upset?

Ahhhh… he doesn’t really keep the peace very well, though it isn’t as if he’s trying to rock the boat. He prefers it when things are as quiet and drama-free as possible ― it just hasn’t been his experience that such a thing is the norm. So he’s always got his hackles raised, ready for things to turn sour in an instant. It seems like just his mere presence can make others upset sometimes… mainly because the man doesn’t know when to shut his damn mouth if a comment isn’t necessary or kind, even if it happens to be true. He doesn’t typically mean to upset people, it just sort of happens as a natural consequence of him having no fucks left to give. He probably couldn’t mediate a conflict to save his life.

[ 🌊 ] does your muse have any specific fears? is there a reason why they fear these things?

Cynophobia ― fear of dogs. In general, this only applies to large and/or aggressive dogs, although sometimes it hits him even with small and/or friendly dogs. When he and Wendy were on the streets and younger, before they met the rest of the troupe, someone coming out of a shoppe had a dog with them. The dog decided that Wendy was in its way, for some reason, and barked at her over and over and over. Because they were so small and the dog was rather big, both siblings were afraid that they were going to be hurt. (The dog may not have been aggressive, but it was reactive, and a dog barking incessantly that’s bigger than a person is usually going to be scary.) Peter ran in front of Wendy to protect her, which resulted in the dog barking in his face instead. And the dog’s owner just laughed, before finally walking off with their dog. Although Peter can be relaxed around many dogs now, as long as they don’t bark or growl a lot, there are definitely times this fear gets the better of him. He’s just fine around other animals, it’s dogs specifically which hit his brain’s panic button.

[ 🏭 ] is your muse happy with their job or career path? why or why not?

Depends. Is he happy with his job/career dancing to the Baron’s puppet strings? Fuck no. He’d rather be doing anything else. Is he happy being a trapeze artist and performing for an audience? … Actually, he’d be perfectly content if he got to do just that and it would be his full job. He and Wendy are a great team; the trapeze is quite a nice act; the circus isn’t actually a terrible place to work. He puts as much work as he possibly can into performances, and moving on the trapeze doing various gymnastic stunts is something he genuinely enjoys. It really does feel like flying, like all the cares he has can’t even touch him. No one can say he isn’t dedicated, and it seems like the audiences actually like watching him. Best of all, he gets to perform with Wendy. If he could do the trapeze performances for the rest of his life, if they could drop their connections with the Baron yesterday, Peter would probably be just fine with that.

[ ⚰️ ] does your muse believe in an afterlife? if so, what do they believe the afterlife would look like?

He does, as do most people in Victorian England, believe in heaven and hell. (And possibly a purgatory/limbo.) As far as he thinks, heaven is paradise and hell is… well… hell. Heaven is white clouds and angels and everything being wonderful. Hell is dark fire and devils and everything being terrible. Heaven is where people should want to go, and hell is where people shouldn’t want to end up. Peter is convinced he’s going to hell when he dies, although he definitely would be relieved (if confused) should he wind up in heaven.

[ 🦁 ] is your muse cowardly, or courageous? what would it take for them to act heroically or selflessly?

Cowardly in the sense that he feels like he doesn’t have choices or options, so he goes along with what seems to be the easiest one that will allow him and his family to be taken care of. Notably he doesn’t fight back against what the Baron wants, because the Baron is making sure Peter and his family are taken care of, promising them things that are in their best interest. Even though he knows it isn’t right, this is what he needs to do to preserve his family. So he does it instead of, say, punching “Father’s” lights out like Peter knows the bastard deserves. He feels like he’s selfish and a coward for always taking the easy way and doing things which are in his and his family’s best interest rather than caring about anyone else. It would take his family (S/O included) being threatened for him to show what he thinks of as any kind of real courage. If the Baron was about to hurt or, God forbid, kill one of his family, that’s what snaps Peter out of his cowardice and would be the catalyst for him rallying for what’s right for once in his fucking life.

[ 🔒 ] what are your muse’s most negative traits? how do these traits influence their lives? (ex. if a muse is aggressive, they may have trouble forming lasting friendships.)

His worst trait is his temper, his anger. It seems like he’s angry all the time, because he’s using his anger to cover up all the pain he’s ever felt. He’s in pain constantly, whether that means physical pain or emotional/mental pain from the miserable life he’s been put through so far. His temper is something he tries to rein in; he lets people push his buttons three or four times before he explodes on them, in an effort to control himself. However, when he does finally explode, it’s disproportionate to whatever upset him, as if he’s starting with a higher base level of anger than everyone else. Which is probably the truth. He’s quick to react when he’s already stressed, and that means he has trouble keeping relationships. Nobody wants to be friends with a man who snaps at them over seemingly nothing, and nobody wants to be a long-term lover with a man who’s come close to shoving or hitting his family if they manage to hit a particularly sensitive button of his. That anger broiling inside him is also eating him away, too, becoming his most definable trait. He finds it harder and harder to be happy, harder and harder not to explode the first time his buttons are pressed. It’s as if his rage is slowly replacing his whole being, and unless he does something to deal with it, eventually there will be no Peter left — just the anger where a man once was.

[ ⛓ ] has your muse ever felt trapped? by what?

He’s always felt trapped, by one thing or another. Trapped by the circumstances that left him and Wendy orphans. Trapped by the lack of money and opportunities that bound them to the streets. Trapped by the Baron and his sinister intentions, which have led him into a life he never wanted. They’re all trapped, aren’t they? Him and his entire family, they’ve always been. There was never any getting out of their situations unless someone helped them. No one did. They’ve all tried so hard to be good and it’s all for nothing. His entire life, his work and the routine and everything he does, it just one big rut that he’s never going to get out of. No matter which way he goes, it’s all the same. No doors to a better life, no spots of hope, nothing except more of the same. All he really wants some days is to be free of the invisible shackles he walks around with, but he knows it’s never going to happen. He’s going to be trapped until he dies, and things don’t look good even for his ghost.

[devoteyrheart]

13. what traits does your muse value in a romantic partner? / any and all!

(from) ― romance & relationship headcanons! // @60104 13. what traits does your muse value in a romantic partner? / any and all!

phew this would be easier to answer if it was the opposite: what things they avoid/hate. also, whatever i write doesn't mean that the characters would never fall in love or have feelings for someone who doesn't match the descriptions i gave. there's always so much at play when you fall in love / feel drawn to a person but anyway!

CHARACTERS MENTIONED: mike zackarias, ilse langnar, marlene, jean kirstein, eld jinn, gunther schultz,  annie leonhart

━━━━━━━━━━━━━.⊹˚⁀➷｡.━━━━━━━━━━━━

ilse:

shared values. devotion. purpose. earnest. compassion. and willingness to grow . - if you're scared of / genuinely don't like being called out on your bullshit, she's not the woman for you. - she doesn't tolerate people canceling on her for shit like 'i don't feel like it' 'i fell asleep', she's surprisingly very ruthless about that kind of disrespect, but if, for example,  her bf told her 'i really need to focus on studying for this big exam so we aren't going to hang out this week but i'll call you once every day' she would literally feel so attracted to him and just fall even more in love. she's not right in the head. ilse doesn't believe in soulmates, she believes in people CHOOSING each other and looking in the same direction and walking towards it side-by-side... so yeah... purpose and devotion ( to themselves / their goals, and to the relationship ) are v big to her. - she likes having fun, but play dumb games with her? make her pick between her family / friends and you? lmfao, she won't try to reason with you or meet you halfway: you're out. - you need to understand her family dynamic, or at least make an effort to. ilse's family dynamic is a il nuanced and, in part, she blames herself for it. surprisingly her family doesn't meddle much, but they're people who are "simpler" i guess, and they are very set in their ways and their family dynamic. they've experienced significant loss, and ilse is the first one in the family to leave their circle ( which was a very hard pill to swallow ). also ilse is the baby of the family by many years so you need to be someone who isn't a pushover but also won't engage with / start conflict no matter how provocative or protective they get. it's delicate and you need to know how to navigate it while still being yourself and not apologizing for it ( because if you do, they'll stop respecting you 💀). 

eld: 

compassion, loyalty, sense of humor, curiosity, and a sense of adventure.. but they can't be too hyper or disorganized. he loves and desires a calming/grounding presence. as much as eld feels drawn to people who are extremely spunky, that's not who he wants to build a life with. he's ok with someone who can keep in on his toes / roast him / call him out but only if it actually makes sense.   also: you can't be someone who yells, especially during arguments. this guy is literally a child of a yelling marriage if you ever raise his voice at him or if he finds himself raising his voice at you: you're out. he won't even explain himself. you also can't be someone who believes (blood) family is everything - if you encourage eld to reconnect with his parents in a meaningful and lasting way: you're out.

mike: 

compassion, neatness, and someone who values quality time and hanging out outdoors. also someone who doesn't try to change him? he spent enough years analyzing himself and getting to know himself and evolving to be the person he wants to be: he's not going to change. mike has grown to become calm person and he rarely engages in conflict not because he's averse to it but because he knows, damn well, that if he throws a punch the other person will get knocked out. younger mike very much still lives in inside older mike: don't bring him out. if you encourage mike to be aggressive in any way, you're out.  also, if you're religious, you're out. i'm so sorry, he just can't go back to that. 

gunther:

patience, organization, no pushiness, and loyalty... but with a bit of spunk. this man will swear he has no patience for nonsense but he loves a woman with a good sense of humour that can help him relax and bring out his laid-back side. someone who reminds him that he can be emotionally vulnerable. someone who is ok with the fact that he has a kid. he doesn't see his kid a lot ( i will touch on this at some point eventually ) but in the future he does want to spend more time with his child and if that's a problem for you: you're out.   

marlene:

good sense of humor is essential to her. also someone who sees through her cool girl half-façade. she wants to be treated like a princess and spoiled, its the truth. she can absolutely spoil herself, but urgh she wants someone else to spoiler. she has a 'if i'm too much go find less' mentality and if you can't handle it that's your damn problem. you gotta b a lil intense, even if you're quiet, or else marlene won't feel drawn to you. 

annie:

someone who understands the need for personal time and individual pursuits. she probably wants to sleep in separate bedrooms at times ( only at times, ofc she likes cuddling too )  and if you can't deal with it you're not the right person for her. annie appreciates a dry and sarcastic sense of humor so she values a partner who can match her wit. someone who is patient and soft but not an enabler or a pushover: annie sometimes wants things but doesn't pursue them, so someone who is encouraging without being overbearing is perfect.  also, you can't be afraid of confrontation. for her, it's ok if your shy/quiet/introvert whatever the fuck, as long as you have a very strong spine. she will literally get the ick if you're too soft.

jean:

someone who is willing to grow, evolve, and talk things out ( don't go silent on him, please, don't shut him out - he copes very poorly with it ). someone who doesn't have their head in the cloud and who shows genuine empathy and understanding towards others.

[silvcrignis]

@manufactoredxbyxdesign ♛

@manufactoredxbyxdesign Punky’s out here throwing you to the WOLVES, they just made a lucky choice because I’m a favourite player lmfao.

{Meme}: [ ♛ ] send me your url and i'll tell you the following; {x}

My opinion on;

Character in general: It’s so sad that I have nar actually played a single Resident Evil Game (I used to watch my dad play them back when I was a smol) or touched a single DBD match but somehow still ended up hyper fixated on this character bc not only was he EVE R Y WHERE back when I was a kid he was my like favourite type of shitbag smarmy over confident character hdhghg I would probably write Albert Wesker if I had the confidence or the complete lore knowledge to hfhgh the perfect live action FC already exists for him thanks to Buffy 😭

How they play them: Hgdhgnh I’ve told them this personally but they’re soooo good, like I hear Albert’s voice when they post something??? Like I love him, a lot of people love uwuing softening villains & I’m like bro they’re fucking evil they may have tender moments or people they are softer with but that’s an EVIL hoe, stop pretending they didn’t do nothin’ wrong. He’s written so MEAN & I fucking adore that, it’s the same way I portray my Severus Snape bc that man has called his own spouse a fucking FOOL before & that’s. My. T y p e, Like I need them to understand I’m not just saying this bc they gave my shit stain gremlin girl a chance (okay maybe a little bc this place has burnt me many times b u t) I’m saying this because I genuinely don’t think they realise just how GOOD they portray this nasty snarky PHD wielding grifter man 😭

The mun: Hurt them & feel the sting of my blade, I swear to God, I will break into your home at 3:37 AM & slather cream cheese & onions on the inside of your pillowcases if I find out you ever legitimately hurt their feelings. Like I was so scared to follow them bc their writing was really on point & canon character blogs be acting stank as hell here especially to me bc Keira isn’t an easy™️ OC girl. & like idc if someone roasts me but I will r I d e for my squad, especially the ones who put up with my ridiculous spammy bullshit like they do hhhhh they deserve better than some of the absolutely manic posts I send them fr fr but I usually make up for my transgressions by sliding them the gud Albertcore.

Do I;

Follow them: I do, I followed their second blog @lxdyvenxm so fucking fast when I saw their post it gave me whiplash ghhgbhjn

RP with them: Of course I do, I have to stick all the pale haired tsunderes together in one spot though Al is a low-key yandere wearing the tsundere skin tbch but he’s deffo part of the club.

Want to RP with them: I… I need Keira to leave this man alone bc every time I get a new idea for Keira the DBD verse her first thought is “What would Albert think about it~🖤🖤🖤?” Yeah she’s a lil obsessio over him but I’M normal hfhgh I don’t want them to think I’m a weird stalker like I don’t want into Albert Wesker’s pants this CREATURE is the one who does!!!!

Ship their character with mine: The concept of them together is terrifying & I mean BOTH Keira & Albert & uhhh the other two shinies (YOU KNOW WHO grhfghf) like they would put the “Power” in the would power couple before some crazy shit starts going down in that Fog… So yeah I do, I want them holding hands while those hands are covered in blood… Because they’re making out while stabbing a person. While holding the same knife. Little known fact about me I fucking LOVE murder couples, especially where one’s a little more fucked up than the other but the other isn’t bothered by that instead they use their slightly calmer head to plan out some REALLY fucked up ideas for them to do together.

What is my;

Overall opinion: Send a long text get a long text ba- Oh wait wait that’s like summin different. Follow them. Love them. Ask about their headcanons bc their headcanons are really good & so fascinating??? Let Albert dismember & bully your muse, Keira wants to film him throwing around their body parts everywhere with the tentacles pls she said it’ll be super funny~~~~

**Note: Mun’s answer are all to be completely honest. Don’t send url if you don’t want brutal honesty.

[goodjobsport-a]

Game Only Verse (i.e. Michael Afton--sometimes using Mike Schmidt as an alias--raised by William Afton)

Note: I have been playing FNAF and watching let's plays and theory videos since around 2016. I love the movie. I'm currently reading the books and will probably incorporate ideas from them as I go. I have VERY little interaction with the fandom as a whole, so I only vaguely know what is accepted and what isn't. (In fact, this is the closest I've ever been to FNAF fandom and I'm Scared.)

I don't claim to follow game canon exactly, because FNAF canon is wild, but I'm taking the parts and theories I like and running with them.

While this verse is based entirely on the games, I am happy to interact with movie and book based muses as well as original characters.

Finally: This is all my default for gameverse, but I am willing to talk out different interpretations/timeslines/names/etc. I am vague about points in the timeline because I want to be flexible.

Michael Afton is the firstborn child of William and Clara Afton. He has a younger brother named Evan and the youngest Elizabeth. Both of his younger siblings died as children.

Evan died on his birthday in 1983, due to a prank pulled by Michael and his friends in which they put Evan's head inside the mouth of an animatronic that Evan was afraid of. The animatronic's mouth crushed Evan's skull and he was on life support for five days before his death. Although Michael often tormented his little brother, he did love him, and lives with immense guilt about his death.

Later, despite their father's insistence that she stay away, Elizabeth approached the animatronic Baby. Baby offered her ice cream, then killed her with a claw that shot out of her abdomen and dragged her inside the machine.

As the last living child of William Afton, Michael at first tried to stay close to him. At first, he didn't believe any of the rumors that William had anything to do with disappearing children at his pizzarias. However, over time, Michael began to learn the depth of his father's depravity. He desperately wanted to find a way to help his father realize what he was doing was wrong and stop him, but he knew he couldn't do it directly...

Under various aliases over the years, including Mike Schmidt, Michael began to do what he could to undo the damage that his father had done. It was for his father's sake... until it wasn't. Until he spent enough time digging through the past and encountering the haunted animatronics that he slowly grew to hate his father.

Eventually, Michael found the location underneath the house where he grew up, and sought to free his little sister from the Baby animatronic. Unfortunately, he was tricked by Ennard and was "scooped" meaning his internal organs were replaced by animatronic-esque parts (look, I'm doing my best to describe this). For a while, Ennard controlled his body... until he began to decompose to the point that Ennard could no longer use him.

Still, Michael did not die. He reanimated into something of his former self, although not fully mentally there. However, he was enough himself to follow the breadcrumbs Henry left to gather what was left of the children and William and burn them (and himself) to death in an old pizzaria.

AND STILL, Michael was not entirely dead. Some part of him remained (a remnant you might say~) to inhabit the Glamrock Freddy animatronic, which tried desperately to protect children in the Pizzaplex. However, William was once again able to take hold of his firstborn son when many of Glamrock Freddy's parts were replaced by the parts of the other infected animatronics.

That's the overall gist of how I see the timeline. I REALIZE that not everyone in fandom agrees with all this, but that's fine. This isn't a theory, it's just my personal headcanon basis for RPing Michael. If you have something in your headcanon that conflicts too much with this, we can talk it out~

[unboundwanderers]

♚♚♚♚ i swear i'm sometimes a functional human being who doesn't get overwhelmed with things but pls know that our thread with pink and kazuha and our plotting for nahida and war doctor live rent free in my head and you're first on my list when i finally get back to plotting tomorrow, you're wonderful never forget that <3

VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM. VENTIUM.

GOD DAMN. WHAT ARE YOU?? Like, seriously. Are you the god of creativity bound in human form??? YOU!! THE WHOLE PERSON!! LIVES RENT FREE INSIDE MY MIND. The Dash Comm? The Headcanons? The Thread Replies?? Without our thread I would have ZERO IDEA of what I would do with Pink, but it was OUR THREAD that gave him the building blocks of his personality. I love your writing so much. I want to pair with all of your muses in one way or another. You are-- SO GOOD. I STOP TO READ ALMOST ALL OF YOUR THREADS!! EVEN THE CRACK!! It's all-- INCREDIBLY ENGAGING. How do you write so much??? YOU WRITE MORE THEN ME!! And don't worry about the speed. Simply putting up with Pink is all I'm happy with. Pink and Kazuha are unhinged. They are rascals-- and I'm excited to see where they go.

[heartcfhope-a-blog]

take the quiz and post your results on what colour your muse is!   

Your dominant hues are green and blue. You're smart and you know it, and want to use your power to help people and relate to others. Even though you tend to battle with yourself, you solve other people's conflicts well. Your saturation level is very high - you are all about getting things done. The world may think you work too hard but you have a lot to show for it, and it keeps you going. You shouldn't be afraid to lead people, because if you're doing it, it'll be done right. Your outlook on life is very bright. You are sunny and optimistic about life and others find it very encouraging, but remember to tone it down if you sense irritation.

Tagged by: @explosivevictory Tagging: @plethora-of-souls @gxlitxr (any muse you want), @minisodapop, @fuckoffdeku @hcroxspirit

[giveityouralldeku-archived]

📔- For a secret sketchbook they keep (Bonus: Share a sketch or doodle within it!)

📔- For a secret sketchbook they keep

                           { @ask-haru-the-traveler - Spill His Secrets - Accepting }Izuku actually doesn’t have a sketchbook. Most of his sketches are within his Hero Notes, and they aren’t even doodles or anything out of the ordinary. He sketches his friends and his teachers, and any pro hero he has had the chance to meet or see in person. 

// sadly mun can not draw so I won’t be posting any art here. Sorry ;-;

[scaramouche-bully]

Hello! Can I request an Overstimulation one with Zhongli,Kaeya,Venti and a bottom reader? Gender neutral or female! If you do this,thank you!

— ☆ Overstimulation headcanons

Includes: Kaeya and Venti. 

[ Sub ] Gender-neutral reader

Contains: Overstimulation, dacryphilia, multiple orgasms, humiliation, temperature play, orgasm denial/delay + degradation.

— ☆ Overstimulation headcanons - Xiao, Childe, and Scaramouche 🐏 [ GN ]  

— ☆ Overstimulation headcanons - Ningguang and Zhongli 🐑 [ GN ]  

[ masterlist ]

I’ve already written overstimulation hcs for Zhongli that I have linked above. But I wouldn't mind writing extra parts. However, I'd like to stick to two characters but feel free to request doubles. Also, thank you for all your lovely prompts/asks. I'd like to post daily so I have them saved for in-between days when I'm writing longer fics.

— ☆ Kaeya

While Kaeya likes pulling you to a barely concealed corner and fucking your brains out, he loves taking his sweet time to see just how many times he can get you to orgasm.

At this point, he knows your body better than you but he loves seeing what other places make you squirm. Using his cryo vision to the fullest as he moves his frozen fingertips over your skin.

He's barely touching your back but you're already arching away from him has him chuckling. Seeing your cute face look over your shoulder with teary eyes as you beg him to stop. You're so sensitive and he hasn't properly touched you once since you both started.

That comment irritates him a bit that he makes his fingers even colder before shoving them between your thighs and abusing your sensitive spots. Even as your wailing and cumming on his fingers, he doesn't stop.

You can't help the strangled whine that escapes from your throat as you sink further into the mattress as you orgasm again. You're desperately clawing at his wrist, trying to get Kaeya to stop, but your strength has left your body. Kaeya seems unbothered from your cries but the cruel gaze he has on says otherwise.

“Ah--ah, nno… Kae- s-stop…too much!!" you gasp as you cum once again on his fingers. Your body keeps heating up but the cold press of his fingers inside you has your body spasming. His fingers are knuckles deep now and mercilessly jerking in and out. You swear you can feel your mind melting with each thrust.

"Come on now, you were so desperate for it. Go on then, cum," Kaeya commands as he watches your hole simultaneously try and force his fingers out and suck them in at the same time. Maybe he is a bad guy, palming his cock to your crying and slutty face.

"I can't-" another sob breaks free as you attempt to push him away. It was too much. You've lost count of how many times he's made you cum just on his fingers alone but you think you might pass out if he makes you cum again. Kaeya tilts his head with an amused smirk as he finally removes his fingers much to your relief. He softly coos at you as he lifts you up and cradles you in his arms as you cry into his shoulder. Your little hiccups and whines of comfort are so cute to him. He wants to hear more.

"You were begging me to let you cum. Now you're going to be begging me to stop," he whispers in your ear before gripping your wrists in one hand and pinning them above your head as he pushes you back on your back.

"Now be good and scream for me."

— ☆ Venti

Venti loves pushing people's limits. He gets joy of seeing people's flustered or embarrassed faces and you're no different. In fact, you're his favourite and he loves reminding you every day.

He's an insatiable spirit. He knows that being an archon allows him more stamina compared to humans and he uses that ability to the fullest. Even when you've passed out he keeps going, even invading your dreams if he's feeling cheeky.

Whenever he's feeling writer's block for one of his songs, he'll stop by to visit you. Even if you're busy working he'll simply wave your concerns off and tell you to continue whatever you were doing.

You're suspicious of him but continue on even when he's kneeling down and prying your legs apart. Fiddling with the hem of your pants and ignoring your protests as he nestles himself between your thighs.

"Venti!" you squeal, knees buckling as he digs his tongue in you. Your hands dropping what you were holding as your grip onto his hair as he presses his face further. Luckily, being the anemo archon, he manages to catch you with his winds and seat you properly. In any other situation, you might have scolded him for using his archon powers for something like this but with his skillful tongue you end up choking on your words.

"Oh! You're done already? How dirty," Venti laughs as you orgasm on his mouth. Licking his lips and swiping at the leftover cum that's dribbling down his cheek. He can feel your flustered gaze at his actions as he merely grins up at you before diving back in.

“V-Venti-” You can’t even get his whole name out past your lips before your words break down into a wanton moan. You instantly tighten up, almost afraid you might break his tongue, as your toes curl and you suffocate him with your thighs. This only seems to make Venti more riled up as he grips your thighs and works his tongue harder. Somedays Venti wants to give up his archon duties and live between your thighs and hum his songs into you.

“I-it’s too much! Nnoh-- no-- no more,” you shake your head, tears filling your eyes before falling as you blink. One violent suck has your back arching as you try and cover your mouth from the high-pitched scream that spills from your lips. You collapse forward as you try to catch your breath as waves of ecstasy wash over you. You're past the point of trying to look dignified. You hear a bit of shuffling as the warmth of Venti leaves your thighs as he pulls you into a kiss so you can taste yourself. He thinks you look so pretty like that, eyes glossy as you try to catch your breath, just from his tongue. He wants to see more, see how far he can push you this time.

“Sing for me my muse.”

[simplysimpingsimp]

hi can i have headcanons of akaza reacting to his male human s/o who tries to stop him from killing slayers all the time. hes really pure and thinks all forms of murder is wrong including demon slaying. and when he doesnt kill someone he gets all gushy and affectionate with him saying that hes proud he didnt kill someone.

Hi hi anon !! Thank you so much for requesting <3!! I can definitely do this for you :D and thank you as well for being the first to ask for an upper moon/demon character !! I like this idea very much :D with Akaza especially (,: I love that boy dearly. Please enjoy and I’m very sorry if it’s not what you expected these are just my thoughts when reading your request and I’ll be honest I’ve never done a hc post so I hope this is okay T^T! I have done my best !

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Akaza x Male!Reader Headcanons

Pronouns: he/him

⚠︎︎Tw: mentions of killing⚠︎︎

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❄️Soft and Sweet

Akaza being someone who loves to fight to test his skills, it’s been difficult to not kill anyone or at least restrain himself

Y/N, his beloved s/o, would always be the one to stop him and did his best to encourage him to not kill more people — as he would say, “Please don’t make others suffer” during his lecture on why it was bad to kill people

On nights when Akaza would go out, y/n would stalk him occasionally — and it caught him by surprise to just see him sitting by himself, looking stunning in the moonlight

He’d always felt proud when Akaza wasn’t hurting anyone and knew deep in his heart that Akaza was doing his best to resist the urge to fight just to make him happy

He’d go home and wait for Akaza to come back, Akaza often just appearing before him as he would sit outside and wait for his presence

Akaza would come home with a grimace but it would drop at the sight of his adorable happiness

The pink haired demon would scold him as well saying it was dangerous to be waiting outside without him being there

Y/n would drag him inside the home when the smell of human blood wasn’t present anywhere on Akaza

While it would catch Akaza off guard how clingy and gushy he suddenly was, he didn’t mind it at all - in fact he loved the attention

Y/n would ruffle his hair and massage his scalp, telling him of proud and happy he was that he had gone a day without taking a life

Akaza felt it wasn’t too big of a victory but he would tell him that it was a big victory because it meant he didn’t make anyone suffer

Y/n would hold him tightly in a hug, Akaza pressing his body against his while Y/n would cuddle him

His soft hands would always be busy caressing his face and gently outlining the thick dark blue tattoos across his face

It always made Akaza lightly blush at the sensation of Y/n’s soft lips peppering kisses all over his face, never leaving a spot untraced by him

He would kiss him constantly, leaving Akaza a blushing mess and the added gushy comments about how adorable he looked when he was blushing made him feel like he was floating

There was a special attention on his tattoos that made y/n’s heart flutter despite the meaning behind them

Y/n always emphasizing that he was doing his best to become better and that’s what counted

Lots of adoring looking into his yellow toned irises and repeating the words “Upper Moon 3” in his head

Akaza’s gaze seemed truly loving and held no intention of harm

There was always a glimmer of sweetness in them when he would look into e/c eyes that held a pure and innocent look

Both their faces would be red from the closeness

Akaza’s grip on his body was protective and firm as he would delight in the affection that he was receiving

Akaza would gently nuzzle his cheek against Y/n’s neck when he would rest his head on their shoulder.

“I love you best when you’re not covered in blood,” y/n would muse as he would kiss his face all over and peck his lips multiple times

In the approximate 100 years he has lived and since becoming a demon, he had truly felt love because of Y/n

ᴇɴᴅ

❄️—//—//—//—//—//—//—//—//—//—//—//—❄️

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ sᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ғᴏʀ ʀᴇǫᴜᴇs��ɪɴɢ! ғᴇᴇʟ ғʀᴇᴇ ᴛᴏ

ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ɪᴅᴇᴀs/ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛs/ᴀsᴋs/ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ !! ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ɢᴇᴛ

ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴀᴛ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ʜᴄs ʏ-ʏ! sᴇᴇ ʏᴀʟʟ sᴏᴏɴ <3

[cyborg-franky]

Hi !

The last prompt, forehead kisses, was so cute, thanks a lot for it !

For the new list, I don't know of it's possible but for the AU prompt roommate, is it possible to have one with Marco and Thatch ? Of not then just Marco, please.

Thank you and have a nice day, week, month !

Thank you, I loved writing that one, I love a soft birb. I also don't know if you mean POLY or like same prompt for both so I did a little bit for Thatch and Marco separate. I also have headcanons here for them as roommates

Marco x GN reader Thatch x GN Reader Modern AU SFW

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When you got home from a busy day out the first thing you could smell down the hallway of your shared apartment was the alluring scent of freshly baked goods. The vanilla that wafted through the air, you couldn’t wait to get inside your home.

Opening the door, the pleasant smells of baking and the warmth from the oven being on hit you full force and you liked it. You sighed and took off your shoes, setting down your bag and coming into the kitchen portion of the apartment.

“It’s like you timed it! I just put in more cookies; the muffins are cool enough if you want to grab one.” Thatch said as you watched him adjust times, swap over trays, dust icing sugar on something.

He was a whirlwind of a man. Sometimes it made you exhausted just to be near the vibrant energy that was the chef. He was singing to himself, the radio on, he was wearing the awful joke apron a friend bought him years ago for a birthday.

“Do we have guests or something coming over?” you asked with a laugh as you looked over just how much he’d baked, grabbing one of the muffins as you did so.

“I called Marco; he might stop by on his way home.”

“So all of this is for.. us?”

“Well, you can pack some up for your friends tomorrow, I’m sure Marco will take some for his housemates and I’ll ask down the hall if we have too much leftover.” Thatch gave you a charming grin and your heart skipped a beat, such a generous man.

Living with Marco was easy-going. It was sometimes like living with a ghost in fact. You wouldn’t see him around much during the day, he was working and at night he usually went to see friends. He was also like a ghost in a sense you’d hear him late at night, he’d move things around or leave cupboard doors open.

When you did get to spend time with your roommate, it was nice. He’d bring you home a coffee on his way back from work. He came home, coffees in hand and set them down in front of you, sleepy tired eyes blinked at you, a smile and nod in greeting before he shuffled off to shower the day off.

He came back, washed, and clean, wearing his bright coloured sleep shorts and shirt, blinking at the TV as you watched a movie. You flipped the blanket up off the sofa and nodded for him to join you.

“Movies only just started, wanna watch with me?” You asked and he nodded.

Getting snuggled up next to you on the sofa, pulling the blanket over you both and cuddling up against you. Marco hummed, a happy sound as he wrapped an arm around you and rested his head on your shoulder.

Sometimes cuddling up with you to nap was the best rest he ever got.

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[boydiisaster]

It's so awesome there's blogs like yours out there trying to provide content for GN and Male fans. It's so hard to find anything even GN, and as a nonbinary person I just want you to know how much it's appreciated! If you're okay with taking requests right now, I have an Obey Me one? Do you have any headcanons on a poly/throuple relationship between a GN MC, Satan, and Solomon? Those two are surprisingly good friends in canon and alike in a lot of ways, I love them both so much!

throuple satan and solomon headcanons

reader: gender neutral, they/them pronouns

tw/cw: a bit of spoilers and fighting/blood mentions

author's note: AWW YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CRY YOU'RE SO NICE, ANON :,) i'm trying my hardest to provide more content for other male and gender neutral readers out there, so i really hope that what i write is enjoyable for yall <33 also i haven't the slightest idea of satan and solomon's canon relationship because i'm only at like lesson 30 smth and don't keep up with my messages so i just pulled most of their dynamic for this out of my ass ( ._.)

It was like a cat just met a dog when Satan and Solomon started dating. They have similarities, sure, but whereas Satan is cold and calculated with his spells, plans, and pranks, it's as if Solomon doesn't think. Like, ever.

How was someone so smart so insufferably stupid at the same time? It's as if Satan is his babysitter more than he's his boyfriend.

Oh god and when Solomon ropes you into doing something with him-

"I hate you both," Satan grumbles, checking your temperature and seeing how it's well above the normal temperature for humans. "Solomon, you can't just drag MC on all your dangerous adventures. They're much more human than you are."

"Just because I accidentally made a spell that cursed me with immortality doesn't mean I'm any less human than they are." Solomon crosses his arms at his boyfriend's hurtful words. "Besides, MC wanted to come with me. Isn't that right, MC?"

You didn't speak. That was probably because you had passed out from how incredibly fatigued you were. Your skin was sticky and noticeably sweaty, eyes closed shut while letting out painful whimpers.

"Tell me again just what happened to them?" Satan groans as he opens a spell book. God knows where he got it. He did that a lot. He was like a video game character or something the way he'd just pull books or spell jars from out his ass. He was always the one Mammon would ask for a pencil, because hell he had like hundreds on him at all times.

"Well," Solomon cheekily smiles and scratches the back of his neck. "We went looking for some herbs for a new spell I concocted."

"Uh huh?"

"And MC sort of... fell."

"What did they fall on, Solomon?"

Said man falls silent. "Solomon?" Satan drags out his lover's name, threatening him, to which all Solomon can do is smile again, this time more nervous.

"They kind of, maybe, fell into a bush of what could have been poisonous flowers...."

"What kind of poisonous flowers, Solomon?" Satan glares at him.

Solomon thinks for a moment, then clasps his hands together. "Let's just say that if we don't get Diavolo or Lucifer in the next," he looks toward a clock, "fifteen or so minutes, MC might fall asleep for probably a whole millennium."

That earns the sorcerer a big thwack to the back of his head by Satan's spell book.

That was probably the first major incident where you were dragged into Solomon's dangerous plans, but it certainly wasn't the last. Most of the time you either ended up with several scrapes or bruises, things Satan or Solomon could easily patch up on their own. But sometimes you'd come back missing a shirt or as a cat.

(It's hard for Satan to be mad at Solomon for accidentally turning you into a cat, but he manages it because you were furious.)

... You were a really cute cat though, MC.

A cat was frantically trying to climb up Satan's pant leg. He was out in the garden tending to his flowers when a kitty he'd never seen before made their way through the bushes and crashed into his leg.

"Hello little one," he smiled at the cat. "Are you lost?"

The cat let out a pitiful wail and latched themselves onto Satan's leg. Satan frowned a bit and started to get worried. "Are you hurt? What's wrong?"

He picked up the cat to examine them. They were a cute little thing with [eye color] eyes and a sleek fur coat. Satan couldn't see anything physically wrong with them. Their paws looked fine, and there was no blood anywhere.

"Did you lose your mom? Maybe your kitten?" he began to muse, then Solomon exploded through the bushes looking frantic as ever.

"Have you seen a cat?" he gasped for air. "About this tall, [eye color] eyes, clearly upset?"

"You mean this one?" Satan held up the cat he found.

"Yes! Give them here-"

The cat hissed and clawed at Solomon's hand, burying themselves further into Satan's grasp. They growled, then looked toward Satan to let out another pitiful whine.

"MC, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!" Solomon cried.

The cat hissed again.

"I'm sorry, did you just say MC?"

Solomon stiffened. He started to laugh nervously, fiddling with his cuffs. "Uh... would you break up with me if I told you I turned our darling MC into a tiny cat...? If so then no, I didn't say MC."

"You did what?!"

"Oh would you look at the time! I have a meeting with Lord Diavolo I must attend to right now, goodbye Satan, I love you!"

And then Solomon left, leaving Satan to fix whatever spell he put on their partner by himself. Satan wasn't angry about it, but the look of pure rage on your little furry face was enough to let Satan know that if he kept you as a cat for a moment longer you'd raise hell upon everyone in the vicinity.

Having a pact with a demon means that pretty much everything you do is shared with said demon. You feel emotions stronger, god forbid if you feel their specific emotions. You could be angry at Mammon for swiping a bag of candy you bought for yourself, but you act as if Mammon robbed you of every last thing you had just because of the pact you share with Satan. He feels awful about that, even though you reassure him time and time again that:

1.) It's not his fault, and

2.) You wanted a pact with him

Even so, please give Satan cuddles and kisses after he gets all sulky. He acts composed, but on the inside he's so incredibly self-conscious of both his sin and his pact with you.

"You need to be more careful," Satan quietly mused as he bandaged your hurt hands and face. You had gotten into a fight at school because a demon shoved you, and now you were currently inside Satan's room, getting blood all over his pretty carpet.

"I know," you softly sighed and hissed once the rubbing alcohol came into contact with the cuts on your face. "I just, I don't know. It set me off for some reason."

Your boyfriend hesitated for a moment, then applied a bandage to your cheek. "It's because of the pact."

"Satan-"

"You know I'm right, MC." Satan didn't look at you when he talked. Instead he looked at his lap, which had the first aid kit he was using to fix you up in it. "I know I talk about this a lot but... I am truly sorry for doing this to you."

"Hey," you cupped his cheek. "It's not your fault. I can learn to live with this. I learnt to handle my greed, envy, and gluttony when I built pacts with your brothers, right?"

"You shouldn't have to though. Maybe it's best if I-"

You silently kissed him. It was a bittersweet kiss, one filled with love yet unspeakable sadness and hurt. Satan was so self-conscious of his sin, yet you loved him still anyway. You wished he could see that.

"Don't finish that thought," you whispered as you pulled away. Resting your forehead against his, you continued. "I love you. Despite your sin, despite how you were born, despite everything; I love you. I chose you, and I wanted a pact with you." You smiled, and Satan couldn't help but blush at your next sentence.

"You silly demon. You really can't see how amazing you are, huh? It's okay though, because both me and Solomon will always be here to remind you."

Solomon touches all your pact marks constantly. When you take off your shirt it's hard to stop him from touching Leviathan's mark located directly on your back. He's always rubbing his fingers over Beelzebub's symbol on your stomach, always outlining Mammon's mark on your wrist. Sometimes he kisses Belphegor's symbol on your throat. When meeting your eyes, he never fails to stare into the one that holds Lucifer's mark, and even though you cover your thighs almost all the time, it's like Solomon can tell where Asmodeus's mark is. It's his favorite place on your thigh to touch.

You sighed whenever you felt Solomon's lips touch the small of your back. A smile made its way onto your own lips as you giggled.

"I didn't expect Satan to place his mark somewhere so... subtle," he admitted as he popped up to press a kiss to your cheek.

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye. He was playing with your wrist again, looking at the symbol of greed that adorns your skin.

"Solomon," you started.

Your lover hummed. You could tell he was beginning to grow drowsy. His eyes were closed and his movements slowed.

"Are you... jealous?"

That woke him up. He made you face him, and the expression he wore was unreadable. It worried you. Maybe you shouldn't have said that.

"I just mean, like," you grew embarrassed. "Um... you're always touching my pact marks, or always looking at them, and I don't know. Are you mad at me for them?"

The sorcerer gently grasped your hands. His fingers were weirdly soft considering how much he uses them. He sat there for a moment, just running his thumbs over your palms before speaking.

"I am a little," he admitted. "But I'm not mad at you. If anything I'm proud."

You smiled a bit. It was a lopsided and awkward sort of smile, but to Solomon it was the most beautiful thing in the world, as cheesy as that sounded.. He loves seeing his partners happy. He loves seeing you happy.

"You're much stronger than you think," Solomon continued. "Being able to hold seven different pact marks, ones belonging to Avatars, as a human with no sort of prior knowledge on magic?" He beamed. "You're incredible."

That only embarrassed you more. You groaned a bit and tried swatting Solomon away to hide your face, but your lover only pulled you in for a short yet loving kiss.

"You're cute, you know that?"

"You're cuter," you retorted. Solomon just smiled.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, dear. Speaking of which," he leaned back on your bed and made grabby hands at you, indicating that he wanted you to lay next to him. "I'm tired. Cuddle me."

"So needy," you joked, but instantly complied to Solomon's request. He was never like this in public. It was nice seeing him so open and vulnerable... and cute.

[cazimagines]

Dude you can treat it as a request or not. I just need to get this out. Imagine Karli threatening Zemo because she knows about you. And Zemo would go all overprotective™️

I loved this concept so much I had to turn it into a headcanon request!

- Zemo constantly worried about you. He was worried about what might become of you because of who he was. Zemo first met you after his family was killed but before he took on the Avengers. He never thought he would move on from his wife but you shook his world and he fell fast. He adored everything about you and lived to see how happy you were with him. But he still had to complete his revenge, to avenger his country and his family and you understood this, you supported him through this.

- His plan did not go the way he wanted it though. He succeeded in taking down the avengers but at a price of being locked away inside while you were left outside. He came up with a backup plan in case of this emergency however for he was a practical and thorough planner. His Butler took you away to a private location where you would stay away from any harm. In his business, Zemo had made quite a few enemies who would stop at nothing to get revenge upon him and you were the perfect ammunition. He wouldn't even allow you to come to visit him, worried people may be able to trace you back to the location and harm you. The guilt of losing his first family already ate at Zemo, losing you would wreck him. Instead of visiting him, Zemo got his butler to deliver letters between the two of you. It wasn't an interaction that provided a lot of attention you needed but you loved being able to read over everything he put. Often you would trace your fingers along the letters, imagining him sitting there writing out these letters for you.

- Zemo choose not to tell you when Bucky broke him out of prison. He knew there was no way he could walk out of this a free man, either he was killed or he went back to prison. No, there was no need to get your hopes up just for them to be dashed again. Plus this was a dangerous mission and he didn't want you involved if he could help it.

- Unfortunately for him, things did not go to plan. There he was having shot Karli and about to destroy the super-soldier serum when she said one thing that made him freeze in his tracks. She said your name. To taunt him more she told him the address he had been keeping you at, at the very moment he chooses to destroy the serum her men will be on their way to kill you.

- Zemo found himself in a cease-fire. On one hand, he could destroy the serum and he closer to finish his mission which has been going on longer than he has known you, the mission that's become his soul purpose and on the other hand he had the opportunity to protect you, ensure the person he loved more dearly than anything was safe but at the cost of avenging his previous family. For a moment both Zemo and Karil looked at each other, caught in a freeze-frame while the cogs within Zemo's mind ticks on what he needs to do.

- In the end, though the answer was clear. He'd have more chances to eliminate the super soldiers and get rid of a serum. He couldn't replace your life. He moved away from the super-soldier serum, holding his hands up in surrender and Karli leaps forward to grab them, but that's when Zemo moved.

- Rage filled him at the thought of Karli even daring to threaten you. It was as if he saw red. In his built-up adrenalin, rage and worry for you, he launched himself at Karli, punching her in the face. He could have shot her but he wouldn't have found it nearly as satisfying, no he needed to feel the skin on skin contact of it, to know he's protecting you by hitting her. Zemo didn't know how long he was on Karli hitting her till he felt arms wrap around him and dragged him off, all he knew was the blood on his hand. Thinking back he was surprised at himself for being able to take down a super soldier but one must never underestimate the rage of Zemo.

- Though Bucky and Sam tried to keep an eye on him he managed to slip away, and there was only one place he had a mind to go. Already he was on his private jet, heading off to where you lived to make sure Karli's people were not with you already. Anxiety picked at him till he was at your door, knocking and his heart nearly burst out of his chest when the door moved, but there you were, shocked to see him before you. He opened his arms and you found your natural home within them, hugging him just as tightly as he hugged you, He buried his head within your hair and closed his eyes, feeling tears leak out of them from how worried he had been to almost losing you, and how happy was to finally feel you within his arms again.

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[revirushifaa]

Sweet Memories

Summary: One night when Lucifer is checking old books for paperwork that he needs done, he stumbles with an old photo album with his angel years with the rest of his brothers. Leviathan is the only brother he knows being awake, so he calls him to check them with him.

Note: These are my headcanons on how the bros were as angels. Satan is not there for obvious reasons, these events happened before the Celestial War, so Satan is non-existent there.

------------------------------

"Where could I have put it? Hm..." Lucifer mused as he was searching for some old documents that could help him with the paperwork he was currently doing, late night and busy as ever, he was given the chance to rest but he decided to work instead.

"Hm? Hey, this is..." when he spotted a certain book, he stopped his search and picked it up, the book was a bit dusty, so he blew it and wiped it off with his gloves, seeing what the book was about, he sighed softly.

His angel years with his brothers, that was the photo album that they all agreed to have as memories for when they had their previous life. Lucifer flipped the book open and began looking at the pictures, a small smile crossing his features. All his brothers as little angels.

He had an idea, he grabbed his D.D.D and texted Leviathan.

'Levi, can you come to my room?'

Levi was likely still awake having a marathon of his favorite anime. He, however felt his phone vibrated and pulled it out, blinking.

"Lucifer wants to see me? Wonder what he wants."

He wasn't all that nervous since he and Lucifer had very positive bonding times just the two of them, he paused his anime and got up, sending an 'on my way' text back to Lucifer. He knocked on the eldest's door.

"Lucifer, I'm here."

The door was open and Lucifer greeted his younger brother with a small smile.

"Come in, Levi."

Levi walked in, as the door behind him closed behind and took a seat on a couch in Lucifer's room.

"Remember this?"

Levi's eyes widened at seeing the photo album. "No way! You have our photo album! I never thought, you would save that..."

"I did of course. I could never let these memories go lost in space... the only memories of being a angel that I would never forget." Lucifer nodded, showing the pictures to his brother. Levi looked at them with a certain fondness, he had to admit, these moments were really magical, they all were very close as angels, but didn't mean now as demons they were not anymore, they still were brothers, but some differences were in the way, still though, they appreciated one another in their own way.

"Oh this one photo..." Levi looked at the picture. It was one when he was just a few years born, like four. He was afraid of swinging in a swing that was put their merely for the little angels' fun. "I was so frightened, until you swung with me, Lucifer, I didn't even want to swing with Mammon, but you." he chuckled a bit. "Guess, I was a bit of a skiddish baby angel."

Lucifer chuckled. "Yes, only with me, you were able to cast your fear away. Look at that, I still remember as if it was just yesterday you were born, you're so grown up, little brother..." he sighed, where had time gone to. His brother was an adult demon, not that sweet shy little angel of the picture.

Levi looked embarrassed. "Lucifer, please, you're embarrassing me.." he couldn't help feeling a little embarrassed at his brother's words, but smiled fondly the picture, remembering how it went.

Long, long ago...

"What's that?" Little angel Leviathan asked, as he stared at the new structure while he was hiding behind Mammon.

"It's just a swing, Father ordered for it to be put for our fun! I think it's awesome, wanna try it, Levi?" Mammon asked his little brother, turning around a little to see him.

"N-no, thanks. Seems dangerous." Levi shook his head, refusing to go on and sit on the swing in front of him.

"Oh, c'mon, Levi! It'll be much fun!" The white-haired angel moved to pick up his little brother, who squirmed in his hold and cried.

"No, no, no! Put me down, Mammon! Put me DOWN!" He wailed, his eyes pricking with tears at the corners.

"What seems to be the matter." A deep voice asked behind the angels. Angel Lucifer had come to check on his little brothers, seeing Levi crying in Mammon's arms.

"Mammon, put Leviathan down, he is scared. You should not force him to do something he does not not want to do." Lucifer ordered, folding his arms and eyeing his second brother disapprovingly.

Mammon pouted and placed, sobbing little Levi down. "But I just wanted to show him the swings and swing with him! I wasn't even hurting him, Lucifer!"

"Yes, I know that. But, he does not want that." The older angel stated as he approached his brothers and crouched down to Levi, putting a hand on his head, speaking softly to him. "Levi, it is alright, it is just a swing." He held his small hand.

Levi sniffled and looked up at his brother. "It won't hurt me?"

"No, it will not," Lucifer cleaned up Levi's teary eyes with his thumb and smiled gently down at him. "Would you like to try it? I will go with you." Unlike how Mammon asked him, Lucifer didn't immediately pick him up to put him there by force, he used words first, instead of actions.

Seeing that his wise older brother was asking him gently first, Levi nodded his head a little. "Okay, but, Lucifer, go with me."

"Of course, brother mine, I will go."

The older angel led the younger angel by the hand to the swing and let him see him, not urging him to sit on if he didn't want to. Levi let go of his brother's hand and moved slowly to the swing, lightly poking it, seeing it didn't do a thing to him back. But he didn't want to sit on, still unsure of it.

"Do you want me to sit with you, brother?" Lucifer offered him and Levi thought for a moment, before nodding, trusting him. Lucifer picked him up gently, sitting down on the swing, placing Levi on his lap, holding him with an arm around the child's chest, and holding onto the side of the swing with his free arm.

"Mammon, can you push us?"

"Yes, I can!" Cheerily, Mammon moved forward and started pushing Lucifer in the swing with Levi.

"W-woooooooaaaah! I can see our room from here!" Levi squeaked, seeing the sight before him as he went back and forth.

Lucifer chuckled. "Impressive, right? This is what you see when you swing." He replied gently, holding securely onto the swing and his brother.

"And I can push you the highest, you haven't seen a thing yet, brothers!" Mammon giggled with a grin, and pushed the other angels as high as he could.

Levi kept aweing as Lucifer calmly swung with him, replying to anything the child told him, having much fun. He was a teenager angel, but he didn't mind being around his kid brothers, that was what he enjoyed doing, he was their big brother and as their big brother, he promised to be with them always.

A picture was taken without the brothers' knowledge, one that would be saved as a very dear memory.

Present time

Levi sighed as he remembered how that went. "Lucifer, this memory is by far my favorite one. There's more I know... but this one, makes it very special." He smiled, looking at his kid self holding onto the swing with his brother, he looked so excited and Mammon happily pushing them from behind.

Lucifer had also remembered the memory, a look full of fondness as he sighed. "Sometimes I wish things were like those times again, where we didn't have to worry about a thing, just of living and staying together... will never forget these wholesome times." He flipped the pages and smiled softly, at the next picture.

"Ah, look at this one, you fell ill and I had to stay behind to care for you, missing the feast with the other brothers. You were a little older here."

Levi smiled back. "I was like ten/eleven, can't remember but, I felt happy you cared too much for staying with me." He really did, Lucifer's will was to stay with him until he got better with his cares.

Long, long ago

"Where is Leviathan?" Lucifer asked his younger brothers, he was holding his infant sister Lilith in arms. "The feast is starting soon and we cannot go without him."

"Last I checked, he was still sleeping. I didn't want to wake him up, so I let him sleep more." Mammon replied, he was holding little baby angel Belphie in arms while Asmo had Beel in his own arms.

Lucifer frowned softly. "Still in bed? Odd for him, normally he's up at the same time as Mammon... I will go check on him." He gently put Lilith in Mammon's arms. "Watch Lilith, too." He instructed as Mammon adjusted the infant angel in arms, so she fit in as he was holding Belphie at the same time.

Lucifer walked inside the temple and to his brother's room, knocing in softly. "Levi?" He called and waited. When he got no answer, he opened the door and stepped inside, seeing his brother still in bed. He walked over to him and placed his hand on his forehead to wake him, frowning concerned, seeing he had a fever.

"Oh no. This can't be good." His brother had a fever, that meant it was some heavenly flu that he came down with.

Levi groaned and slowly opened his eyes. "L-Lucifer...? Is it the feast already?" his voice was hoarse.

"Almost, but you aren't well, are you?"

Levi shook his head. "I feel hot and very yucky." He had bas taste because of his cold.

Lucifer frowned. "You have heavenly flu, brother mine. You cannot get out of bed like this."

"B-but what about the feast?! Father's not gonna be happy with me skipping it, you know how he is..." Levi bit his lip a little.

Lucifer shook his head. "No. I will tell him you caught a cold, and I will stay behind to take care of you until you get better."

Levi smiled feebly. "Thank you, big brother... you're so nice to me."

Lucifer ruffled his indigo hair and sent a message by thought to his Father, explaining everything to him. Then nodded when he was immediately replied.

"Do not worry, Levi. Father knows now and he will not be mad for skipping the feast, I will stay here with you." He said reassuringly, then stood. "I just have to tell the rest of our siblings that we won't be joining them in the feast."

At Levi's nod, the older angel left the room to see his other siblings and spoke to them.

"Listen, everyone. Levi is ill with heavenly flu and won't be joining us. I will stay behind and take care of him, the rest of you will go to the feast with no exception."

"Do we take our baby siblings there? Beel and Belphie can eat solids now, but Lilith is merely born a few hours ago, what should she eat while all of us are eating?" Mammon asked, a little thoughtful.

"Feed the twins with bland food, there should be bottles of milk for our sister. Your caretaker, Uriel will take you to the feast and watch over you, while I'm with Levi. Now, behave yourselves and do not cause any sort of trouble, or there will be consequences. You don't wish to upset Father either." Lucifer said to the rest of the little angels and they all nodded at him or rather Mammon and Asmo, for the last of the siblings were still very young to speak clearly.

Pleased with their answers, Lucifer whirled to stay with sick little Levi and sat by his bed side. "I am here, Levi." he assured softly, rubbing his hot forehead.

"Big brother, I feel yucky..." Levi whimpered, being the sensitive little brother, he was beginning to whine at being sick.

"Shh, shh, do not speak much, sleep," Lucifer hushed him softly. "Do you want me to sing a lullabye to you?"

Levi nodded, his brother's soothing voice helped him calm down easily. Lucifer cleared his throat and began singing to his little brother, holding his hand.

"Little brother mine,

Hush now, close your eyes,

Dream of a wonderful world with all of us,

Little brother mine,

Hush now, lay your head close to my chest,

You will dream peacefully, not a single nightmare,

Little brother mine,

Hush now, sleep tightly, tightly..."

When he was done singing, Lucifer turned to look at Levi and he was once again sleeping, his little hand holding his tightly and the older angel smiled warmly, reaching over and planting a brotherly kiss to his head. That lullabye was sung to him when he was a mere baby, he sung it to Mammon and Levi when they were little infants, and still sung it to them and the rest of his siblings, only changing the lyrics when it was sung to Lilith.

"Sleep well, get well soon, little brother mine..."

Present time

"Lucifer..." Levi suddenly mumbled. Lucifer turned to him from the book.

"Yes?"

"What changed you to who you are now? You were so caring, rarely even yelled or punished us like how you do now..." Lucifer sighed. He knew he would be asked that question eventually, so he was honest with his answer, not telling a single lie.

"I turned strict because of your own good and the others... you all needed a firm hand in discipline, not just gentleness or not consequences at all. I... I would not take it to see any of you go forever for any rash behavior... you all are very important to me... all of you. Even if I'm hard as a rock or unmoving... you will always be my little brothers, nothing will ever change that."

Leviathan understood the need to be more firmer now that they all were demons, when they were angels they didn't do any mischief as the one most of them did nowadays.

"Yeah, I get that, I just miss your old caring you so much..."

Lucifer wrapped an arm around Levi's shoulders. "I'm still caring, you all just don't know when I do it and I prefer doing it secretly." He explained, squeezing Levi's shoulder.

"Hm. Well, I should be grateful you still show me the same care as when I was a tiny angel, thank you, Lucifer..." shyly, Levi admitted earning a quick chuckle from Lucifer.

"Don't mention it, brother mine. Still want to see more photos?"

"Yeah, absolutely."

And both brothers kept watching more pictures of sweet memories and remembering the sweet and dear moments that they had back at the Celestial Realm.