Yes!!!!

yes!!!!

reach out to me my devilish sweetheart!

imma smooch your lil face sebby~

Hi! I love your blog and am delighted to read things about Kuroshitsuji; I love this story so much!! So... can I have some scenarios or headcanons (your choice) with Undertaker, Grell and Sebastian and their female s/o who have a weak point in touching their hair/head and giving them cute hairstyles? I think it's very cute and precious :( Thank you and please!! Take care of yourself <3 Love you.

Aww thank you so much! Such a nice idea, of course you can! Enjoy!

Masterlist

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Undertaker

When Undertaker first discovered that touching your head and hair was your weak point, he was absolutely delighted. You were curled up on his sofa together, watching an old film that you had already seen several times together, the dialogue playing quietly in the background. You were laying quietly on the mortician, your weight across his chest and head rising and falling with each steady breath he took. He kept looking down at you with a content smile on his face, though you were too invested in the film to realise. In fact, he was watching you more than he was watching the television, but he didn’t think that was a bad thing.

When he finally returned his eyes to the screen to watch a part that he particularly enjoyed, the reaper’s hand made its way o your head of its own accord. You blinked as you felt gentle fingertips against your temple, then took in a short, stuttering breath as they trailed backwards across your scalp. Undertaker was on it in a second, though you tried to carry on watching the movie and pretending as if nothing had happened. A slightly wicked grin on his face, your partner repeated the movement, only this time he ran his long nails too lightly over your skin and he couldn’t but laugh as your body tensed up and one hand gripped his arm.

“Alright, alright. I’m sorry,” he got out past his laughter. The next time he ran his nails over your head, it was with a proper amount of pressure and you practically melted into his chest. He looked on as he kept repeating the movement, fingers splayed wide enough to touch almost your whole head and watching as your eyes began to flutter closed, quiet hums emitting from your lips with each caress. You leaned more of your weight against him as you relaxed further and further, and he could have sworn you were falling asleep.

“Please don’t stop,” you muttered out, burying your face into his shoulder and feeling more than hearing his chuckle as it vibrated in his chest.

“Don’t worry, love,” he said softly, “I won’t.”

Grell Sutcliff

It was automatic for Grell’s fingertips to find your hair during any quite moment together. It was something she always did subconsciously, just enjoying how soft it felt and how wonderful it smelled where you were curled up with her in bed. The first time she did it, she only touched the tips of your hair and you hardly noticed it, but you smiled warmly and pressed closer into your partner. She returned the smile, grip tightening around you and pulling you impossibly closer to her. Your head rested on her shoulder and she leaned down to give you a sweet kiss before settling back against the pillows once more, you doing the same.

The second time she touched your hair, she ran her fingertips straight through the roots and subsequently along your scalp, immediately taking note when you all but collapsed into her, eyes closed and something of a dreamy expression on your face. The reaper started smiling, did it again just to make sure you gave the same reaction, then removed her hand entirely. She watched with humour dancing in her eyes as you slowly opened yours, blinking a few times as if trying to reorient yourself then looking up at her tiredly.

“Why did you stop?” You murmured, watching her smile widen to a grin.

“I see how it is,” she proclaimed loudly, with a touch of the usual dramatic flair, “you knew that having your head touched was a weak spot and you didn’t tell me.” You tried to say her name, but she just interrupted you. “Absolutely not, I’m having none of that. You just sit there and wait for me to get back.”

In all of a few moments, Grell was sitting behind you with you leaning back against her chest while she carefully ran a brush through your hair, methodically separating strands and crossing them over to give you an incredibly intricate braid, one which you made her take several pictures of and refused to take out until it was literally falling apart and you had no choice.

Sebastian Micaelis

Sebastian had already found that he couldn’t resist the temptation of wanting to run his hands through your hair. It always looked so soft and shone gloriously in the sunlight when you were outside together, he just had to see if it felt as wonderful as it looked. The first time he reached over to touch your hair, his movements were impossibly slow. You were curled up together watching something fairly unimportant on the television, your head tucked into the crook of Sebastian’s neck and your hair falling over his shoulder.

You were hardly aware the demon was even doing anything at first, with how gentle he was being. His fingertips just grazed the hairs on top of your head, the smaller fluffy ones that weren’t close enough to your scalp for you to realise what he was doing. He lingered there a moment, you totally blind that his had was hovering above your head at all. When you didn’t react and when he could no longer stop himself, Sebastian gently pressed his fingertips into your tresses, causing only a slight movement of your roots but it was enough for you to look up at him with questioning eyes. The smile he gave you was as if to say, what? I can’t help it, and he kept eye contact with you, still not saying anything, as he pressed his fingers against your head properly and ever so slowly dragged them back along your scalp.

Your partner was utterly delighted when you let out a small sound, eyes closing immediately and your head dropping back down against his shoulder. His touch sent shivers through you, ones that he sensed to, but in such a way that you could have fallen asleep right there. Your eyes opened again at an unexpected loss of contact, but you sighed happily with a serene smile on your face when you realised he was only moving his hand back to the front of your head so he could repeat the motion. You didn’t know if you sat there for minutes or hours, half asleep and in such a dazed, happy state as you were.

From then on, Sebastian’s hands were always finding their way to your hair and head. He would play with it as you sat together, like on that first day, he would gently stroke your head as you drifted off to sleep, laying snugly against his broad chest. He even realised, much to your dismay, that it was an excellent way to distract you from just about everything.

gosh i love him soo much~

just me lovin this old man lucii~

thanks love!!!

this is soo well written!

Can i ask for more undertaker fluff? like maybe lemon tea and milk tea? also i loooovee your writing!! all of your work feels so lovely to read! i hope i can support you in the future as well!

ah!! i am so excited for this one!!(>_<)

Thank you 💕 Your support and love are very much appreciated!

Hope this is to your liking :)

☆.｡.:*　　.｡.:*☆

lemon tea; what are mornings like with them?

Undertaker wakes up much earlier as compared to you because sleep is not something he can afford enough of, and let me tell you that he’s not all romantic or gentle at all in the morning. He’s absolutely brutish in his methods of waking you up. He’ll snatch away your warm and fuzzy blanket and attack you with tickles if you’re feeling a little. It leaves you annoyed and grumpy though, but no worries, he’ll cook a delicious breakfast to make it up to you.

milk tea; what are their kisses like?

Undertaker is extremely skilled with his kisses, they’ll mostly leave you weak in the knees and clinging into him for support. His kisses are filled with all the passion and love he feels for you, but can be incredibly teasing sometimes, leaving you crave more more of him.

rosh this is soooooo good ,

i am crying now!!

my favorite headcanon is that when a demon chooses someone as his mate, he and his partner must perform a ritual similar to making a pact, but much deeper and more serious, and this ritual can only happen once in a demon's life, as they choose their mate once and for all. can you write your vision of this with each of the brothers? thanks in advance!!!

Choosing A Mate Ritual With The Brothers

LUCIFER

It's a ritual devoid of any majestic displays or luxurious offerings. No wings are puffed up, nothing materialistic is given. What is exchanged, is each other's burden. Whether it be heavy or light—whether it be his brothers arriving home past curfew, or the burden of his sister's death, to the thoughts that keep him up at night, nothing is left in the dark.

Because you're his mate, the only being he can be vulnerable with, put down the stern exterior and intimidating gaze, you're the place where he can go and rest his head in peace. You're his sanctuary, and so is he yours.

"Lucifer," You croon, resting your forehead against his as he sighs in response. Even in the darkness of the night, Lucifer shines the brightest—even if he's devoid of his white wings and halo, even if horns have replaced it, he still shines the brightest, just like he once did in Heaven.

His wings are drooped in the moonlight, and they ruffle up at your touch, just like the smile that forms on seeing you. It seems his wings are a mirror of his emotions—and it finally clicks why Lucifer takes special care in scrutinizing the state of his wings—they ruffle up in pride and droop in sorrow. Taking his gloved hands in yours, you gaze into the demon's eyes, which stare at you with nothing short of love. "You slave for us all, bearing your burdens alone." You whisper, interwining your fingers with his as you place a hand on his chest, feeling the thrumming of his heart, filled with love.

"Share them with me, just like I will with mine."

MAMMON

This ritual involves showing each other where they keep their treasures hidden, and for the Avatar of Greed, it means showing his mate the location of all his valuables and treasured possessions—whether they be materialistic items like gold and jewellery, or those he holds dear, Mammon will reveal all their locations to you.

You, in turn, do the same, showing the demon what you treasure the most, and Mammon does the same. But, the conundrum is that each other's treasure have been already taken by the other.

"Show me," You mutter, waiting for the demon to reveal his valuables just like you will do with yours, but Mammon doesn't move from his spot. You stare at him in confusion. Mammon hoards a lot of things—from empty wrappers and faded photographs to expensive watches, he stores what he deems valuable. But you're left wondering what exactly is that Mammon holds so dear that he is hesitating in showing.

You gently take the demon in a hug. "I won't judge you, Mammon." You whisper, holding him closer as he stiffens, before gently removing you from the embrace. "Right here." He whispers, and when you stare at thin air you arch an eyebrow. But when the demon points a trembling finger only then you realize what he holds dear the most.

The finger is pointed at you.

LEVIATHAN

The ritual involves showing what you love about yourself. The smallest things—a smile to a caring nature—everything is mentioned. And it's hard for Leviathan, challenging even, for even if he has conquered video game levels and the ocean alike, love is something he doesn't consider himself worthy of.

Even you are faced with challenges, but Levi is there to encourage you, hell, he could write down a whole book about what he loves about you, and so can you for him, but when it comes to discovering what one loves about themselves, hesitation is unavoidable. But you're there to help each other.

"I—I love the w-way I—" The demon stammers, before his voice breaks out completely at the end. It's hard, he can find love for others but not for himself. And why should he? He deserves nothing, he's a worthless shut-in who's crying at such a serious moment like this.

What he doesn't see, is the passion that he holds. The way he collects things and takes care of them, how he sews costumes with delicate care and the way he takes care of Henry, the way his eyes lighten up and his tail bounces when he talks about something he's passionate, or the way he can form brilliant strategies. Leaning forward, you wipe the tears away and gaze into his eyes—filled with nothing but self-loathing. "You're passionate about what you love." You whisper, resting your forehead against his, and Levi looks at you in bewilderment for a moment, before shaking his head slightly as he smiles through the tears.

"I—I love how passionate I am about the t-things I love."

SATAN

In this ritual, you both show each other the dark side of yours—one that is hidden away from the others, save for one's mate. Underneath all that love for animals and knowledge, Satan is wrath. Pure, fuming wrath that destroys.

He's learnt to hide it, put on a mask to separate himself from his sin, but it escapes. It's a part he loathes, the part he fears might hurt you—claws that could tear through skin, a tail that was spiked and a tongue that could speak poisoned words. It's something he doesn't want you to see.

But you see every part of him, the good and the bad. And you show him yours in return. You accept each other.

Satan remains quiet as he observes you inspect his demon form, his tail idly flicking around at your request, with his horns and boa for you to gaze upon. You say nothing, instead choosing to observe the tail which flicks around, hooking itself onto books or reaching for the nearest thing, which happens to be your leg. It languidly curls around you, soft and gentle.

"You haven't seen the worst." He points out, staring at your mesemrized form which fills him with confusion. You're yet to see the most awful, wretched parts of him—of torn books and sharp nails, of a stare that could inflict fear and claws that could kill. You're yet to see him like that. But all you do is take his face in your hands, gazing into his own bewildered ones as you murmer, "I know. And I accept you as you are."

Your words leave him tongue-tied as he gently holds your own hands, mindful of his claws. You confuse him, sometimes, with your kindness and love, but he revels in it all the same.

"Thank you." The demon whispers, each word filled with gratitude and love. "Thank you."

ASMODEUS

The ritual is simple, yet puzzling in its own way. A blindfold over your eyes for sixty-six hours, and your memories of his face forgotten temporarily. The reason you can't see Asmodeus is because you'll be seeing his persona, the beautiful and the ugly parts, his personality, without his mesmerising looks.

For a demon who spends hours on his appearance, it's hard for Asmodeus to bear the fact that his mate can't see him. But he's even more scared because his looks are the only thing he presents to the world, adored by jewels and lavish garments. It's the face and body people fall in love with, not his personality, not his soul.

But you see everything, the good and the ugly, you see Asmodeus.

"What do you think I look like?" The demon whispers, letting your hands trail over his face, gently tracing each feature. You remain quiet for a moment, before gently cupping his face. "I see someone who takes meticulous care of his appearance. I see someone who shines bright, and makes others shine as well. I see someone dedicated and adored. I see someone who wants to be loved the same way he was once."

Asmodeus remains quiet at the last line, stunned at your words. His watery eyes blur his vision but he remains silent, utterly bewildered at your words. He refuses to believe them, at first, but the more he tries to ignore the more he realizes they're true, and this time, he accepts it. He's often wondered what he would do if he found someone whom he loved more than himself, but today, he found the answer. And your next words seal it in stone.

"I see all of you, Asmodeus."

BEELZEBUB

The ritual isn't something to be performed within a particular time frame or day. Rather, it consists of protecting each other. From a spider that's on the wall, a potential threat or nightmares, you are there for Beelzebub, just like he is there for you.

Beel isn't a demon of many words, but his actions make up for it. The way he shields you from all the evil in the Devildom, to protect you, because he failed once, and he doesn't want to let that happen again. He can't lose you.

You protect each other, whether it be in ways big or small.

"Beel," You mumble, shaking the slumbering demon gently to wake up him from the nightmare. He has been whimpering in his sleep, and you can feel the pain in his voice as he mutters incoherent words. "It's a nightmare." You soothe him, gently interwining your fingers with his own as Beel tucks his face in the crook of your neck, pulling you closer until he's curled into you.

It is at times like these, when you realize that Beel deserves, needs, to be protected in the same way you do. Even if the danger is nightmares instead of other demons. You can feel the guilt that consumes him, of not being able to save his sister. You see him stand tall to protect his family, an intimidating figure, yet even he crumbles. You'll protect him, just like he does.

No words are said, for they aren't needed, not when you hug Beelzebub tightly as he holds you closer, and the demon sighs in relief.

BELPHEGOR

The ritual seems like a mundane task, but for the Avatar of Sloth it's a tedious one, where he has to be at your beck and call for the entire day, physically and emotionally. Sloth is being asked to practice diligence, the same diligence he demands from others but never gives it himself, Belphegor will now give it to his mate.

It's his way of asking forgiveness, apart from giving a pact. It's an immeasurable amount he's trying to pay off for killing you, something he swears won't happen again. It's his way of showing that he will put in the effort required into your bound, give as much as he demands. He will devote himself to you the same way you do.

"Anything else you need?" The demon inquires, setting down the tray as he stands besides you—tall and alert, a sharp contrast to his slouched posture. It's a surprise to see Belphegor like this, utterly devoted and active, and the thought fills you with warmth, because it's only for you.

He serves you tea with the exact amount of sugar you like. You never told the demon your preferences, and yet he knows them all. He makes your favourite desserts, with skills you never knew he had before. He loves you.

"Your love." You whisper, and Belphegor widens his eyes before shaking his head, smiling warmly before kissing you. "You already have it all."

Sir you're looking damn fine I need to save dp for Satan's birthday sir please you're tempting me--