I'm Tired But It's Finally Done

I'm tired but it's finally done 🥲🥰

(your can use these just credit me and/ reblog:) thank you)

And the original one that didn't fit my phone screen but I'm still very proud of it(even if it was acting like a lil shit😤)

[repost from my main]

More DiaLuci head cannons

Lucifer, but not often, has fits of rage similar to Satan's. While he doesn't become violent, he becomes incredibly snarky and spiteful, usually insulting people. In all of these Diavolo is the one to calm him down, and never takes the insults personally and only focuses on Lucifer.

Lucifer once had a dream about the fall and broke down in Diavolo's arms while Diavolo consoled him.

Diavolo learned Lucifer likes having his hair played with through Asmodeus.

While Diavolo smiles a lot, his smiles around Lucifer are as genuine as can be, especially when Lucifer laughs or smiles.

Diavolo tends to be a flirt without noticing.

Lucifer doesn't ask for help, but this doesn't hide from Diavolo who can usually tell when somethings off.

Bringing back Lucifer's (body) praise, Diavolo compliments him to get him off and genuinely because it's what he feels like.

Lucifer sometimes strays from crowds if it's too much and Diavolo always follows to make sure he's ok.

Lucifer feels like he can truly be himself around Diavolo without receiving any kind of judgement.

Diavolo and Lucifer once waltzed in the Demon Lord Castle's ballroom.

Diavolo likes gives very unexpected kisses to Lucifer.

Their first kiss was at one of Diavolo's birthday parties.

Lucifer has grown accustomed to Diavolo's intimate touch and whenever his hips or waist is/are grabbed from behind he doesn't have a reaction and immediately knows its Diavolo.

We know that Lucifer is canonically the only character that's said the F word in Obey Me!. Nobody else has outright sworn. (I know the others say stuff that gets censored and it's primarily for legal/content reasons but hear me out.)

We also know Lucifer has cast curses during events so that nobody remembers what he (and his brothers in multiple instances) looks like shirtless/naked or as a dame.

Is it possible that at some point Lucifer cursed MC to be a pure cinnamon roll, unable to hear the other characters' constant swearing? Cursed to only converse like life is a PG13 movie while everyone is actually incredibly vulgar.

Vesuvia Weekly: What it's like to hold the M6

~ my submission for this week's prompt - have some sappy headcanon drabble ^.^ ~

Julian

The sounds of leather folding and bending and creaking, of a pent up sigh, of a noble, anxious, too-big-for-its-own-good heartbeat fluttering against those thin, bird-like ribs

The smell of - yes, more leather - with a slight hint of sweat and the faded scent of the crushed herbs used to stuff doctor's masks

The feel of a well-worn, weather tested, oversized coat falling around both your frames, a cold set of bony fingers tangling into your hair through protective gloves

The sight of folded black cloth and slightly dulled metal buttons, a pale neck cradling your forehead, auburn stubble shivering over a bobbing adam's apple

The bitter taste of sea-salty lips, self-sacrifice, and coffee

Asra

The sound of an airy chuckle, a curious whisper, a deep, relaxed sigh, a heartbeat that touches your own with every gentle thump

The smell of smoking incense, sparkling spices, and syrupy vanilla, lurking beneath the petrichor of sunny spring rains on the dust of a far-off highway

The feel of a soft shawl on your cheek, sturdy linen body-warmed and slightly rough under your arms, heavy, heated hands running soothing pathways along your spine, cloud soft curls on your ears, a deceptively slight frame

The sight of golden metal and silvery blue stone on smooth skin, the barely-there rise and fall of a body slowly relaxing into yours

The taste of smoky tea, home, and desperate dedication

Nadia

The sound of rustling silks, the quiet clink of bracelets and rings, the hush of long, thick hair falling over chiffon-clad shoulders, a contented, throaty hum, a lofty heartbeat

The smell of jasmine, rose, pepper, and amber, of warm silk and chilled white wine, of flower gardens and powdery cosmetics

The feel of a heavy curtain of hair against your face, body warmth passing quickly through thin, gauzy sleeves wrinkling under your movements, of strong fingers tilting your chin into her collarbone

The sight of glinting gemstones and finely crafted metal, intricate embroidery stitches swirling across lustrous fabric, scalloped hemlines along sculpted shoulders

The taste of spiced fish, wine, and plush, commanding adoration

Muriel

The sound of heavy, rough cloth slowly dragging across itself, breaths hitching deep and slow, a grumble quiet and low enough to shake the earth, a nervous, powerful heartbeat

The smell of myrrh hanging around you like a cloud, of warm fur and chilly forest air, of falling leaves and running water and smoke

The feel of muscle and scruff, of radiating body heat, of massive, calloused palms alternating between gently splaying over your shoulders like blanketing weights and hovering cautiously around your waist in fluttering, feather like touches

The sight of thick, dark hair falling in choppy lengths over stubble and scar tissue, of thick green cloth over sinew

The taste of grilled forage and mead, of healing and steadfastness

Portia

The sound of an excited giggle, springing footsteps and jingling keys, a happy gasp and unstoppable heartbeat, a mischievous secret getting laughed into your ear

The smell of air-drying laundry and soap, hair oil and cocoa butter, fresh bread and sizzling butter and caramelizing berries

The feel of strong forearms, small, calloused hands, the push of energetic bouncing against your shoulder, of hair flying around your face, the plush squish of a no-holds-barred bear hug

The sight of fiery curls spilling over clean, pressed cotton, freckles speckling creamy skin, the occasional grey and white cat hair clinging to black ribbon, the dusk of a happy blush

The taste of yeasty bread, and the comforts of adventure

Lucio

The sounds of nearby dogs panting, a cutlass clanking in its sheath, the mechanical whir and musical hum of an alchemical arm, a confident, snorting chuckle and a devoted heartbeat

The smell of fresh sweat, warm metal, cinnamon alcohol in a journeyman's flask, hair gel and worn cologne

The feel of a padded, quilted vest, the quick rise and fall of an active chest, the slight tilt of a shoulder forever sloped in favor of a heavy arm, the sinewed grip of a warrior's touchstarved fingers and the cool, metallic touch of a careful clawed hand

The sight of sharp collarbones and glinting curved gold, fine flaxen hair at the nape of a snowy neck, crimson cloth and leather straps

The taste of grilled meat, traveler's wine, and new beginnings

Meanwhile, MC to Lucifer:

MC's the actual Daddy Dom of the series.