(More will be added with time; this one is also long so most of them are under the cut)
(Also, many of these are inspired from headcanons I’ve previously read, so you may recognize them. Unfortunately, most of these have been in my phone for a long time so I don’t remember some of the original sources; if you do though, please message me so I can give proper credits)
When it comes to proposing, instead of a ring, demons present a much more personal item; their grimoire. Grimoires are the guide to literally everything about their demon, everything from personal experiences, their knowledge, habits, spells. Literally everything about the demon is documented in their grimoire.
Non-human species don’t experience a lot of things humans do. These include but are not limited to: allergies, hair shedding, circadian rhythms, and such.
Continuing on the previous point; one human trait that non-humans find utterly adorable and fascinating is the subconscious human nature to mimic things. Humans tend to try to relate to things, which is why personification is so prominent in everything they do. (Ex: how some tell wobbly objects to stay or loud machines to shut up).
When it comes to courting, demons of mammalian familiars tend to put forth their desirables traits of strength and parental tendencies to show to their hopeful mate that they will be able to provide them with strong and healthy children and a safe and happy home.
Mammalian demons also tend to show off how healthy and beautiful they are. Letting their hopeful mate groom them, eating around their mate to show they have a healthy diet, and for the more adventurous ones they’ll brave more tumultuous conditions to show they have strong immune systems. These behaviors are to show they will provide healthy and beautiful children.
Reptilian demons tend to make jewelry with their scales for hopeful mates. Honestly these pieces tend to be gorgeous. With an added touch that when they start growing interested in a partner, they tend to do their best to shine their scales until they glimmer as a beauty appeal.
Avian demons love to dance. With friends, family and potential mates. It’s just something they really love.
Winged demons like to flap their wings, often unintentionally at the sight of their desired mate. To add to this point, a love-struck avian will not be able to control their feathers fluffing up upon sight of their target or a gentle touch.
Avians have a strong urge to bring you beautiful small things like flowers or marbles or even rings, but nonetheless small things. Reptilians tend to be of a more mysterious nature and prefer gifting things like bones, potions, and occult items. Aquatic gifts tend to be seashells, trinkets, or things they enjoy.
Venomous Insectoid demons will create antidotes and mix them into foods they give to their target mate; this will ensure their target is not harmed by their venom.
the Leviathan/Reader slow burn fluff shall not be denied [OM!] [snippet!]
fandom: Obey Me!
fanfic title: TBD
tags: gn!Reader & Leviathan (friendship, pre-romance), picnic, beach and ocean vibes, Reader and Levi calling each other nicknames, Devildom headcanons/worldbuilding, fluff fluff fluff.
This snippet refers to my earlier snippet from here: [link]
[rated G below] [WIP ZONE]
Once, not long after you two have actually become friends, he walks back out of the water onto the shore, and you’re there waiting for him on an officially licensed TSL blanket with his headphones and a picnic basket. (He’s a creature of habit, so he almost always enters and exits from the same little cove, which is usually deserted because it requires carefully hiking from the sandy beach over some big slick boulders that are submerged at high tide to get there. You got yourself some knee-high rain boots, checked the tide charts -- with 3 moons, Devildom tide patterns are fucking wild -- and made it work.) He’s so surprised to see you there that he almost falls right back into the water.
“What!” he almost shouts. “H-H-Henry! What are you doing here?!”
“Hi, Levia-chan,” you say cheerfully, putting down your tri-lunar physics textbook. “I noticed you skipped dinner to come down here, so I brought some food for you.”
“F-for me?” he stammers.
“Yeah!” you say, and smile at him. “I figured we could have a little picnic, just you and me.”
“Just -- just us two?” He blushes so hard you wouldn’t be surprised if the seawater started steaming off of him; his long, reptilian tail curls this way and that, carving arcs into the wet sand.
“Is that okay?” you ask, sure that he’ll blurt out a reflexive protest before eventually circling around to yes that’s more than okay.
“Yes!” he blurts, being direct about it for once, and you grin at him delightedly. He’s so cute.
You pat the blanket next to you, and Leviathan comes over to sit half hesitantly, half eagerly; he sits and has to immediately get up again to wave the seawater off of him and his drenched clothes and hair before he soaks right through the Lord of Shadow’s face.
Then he just stands there, frozen for a moment in painful awkwardness.
“That’s a handy trick,” is all you say, lightly, as you start pulling boxes of food out of the picnic basket, and he unfreezes and sits down next to you with his knees pulled up to his chest and tail curled around his feet, and quietly starts eating the food you hand to him, all dishes you know he likes and which you made a point to save from Beel, no matter how much Beel made sad demon eyes at you.
You’re pretty sure this is one of the main reasons why Levi likes you so much: you don’t mock him for being his very awkward self; you barely even tease him for it, except in those rare cases when you’re sure you can make it abundantly clear that you’re only doing it fondly. And why would you mock him for it? After all, you’re more than well acquainted with awkwardness yourself. You know how it feels.
You lean back on your hands and stretch your legs out in front of you, sighing contently. The gentle roaring of the waves rushing up onto the sandy shore, the rough splashing of brine against the nearby boulders, the smell of the salty sea air, it all erodes away the cares of the day. Leviathan slowly relaxes, too, until he’s sitting with his legs crossed and holding his box of lion’s head meatballs over oleander and rice in his lap and sneaking glances at you in between taking slow bites of food.
“What’s it like down there?” you ask.
“In the ocean?” he says.
“Yeah. You dive down really deep, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” he replies, blushing again, as though that’s something to be awkward about; maybe it is, for him.
“So what’s it like down there?” you ask.
“It, uh…” He thinks about it for a moment; you imagine him trying to put words to something that he’s experienced for millennia, but probably has never had to describe, let alone to a human who knows little about the Devildom’s oceans.
“It’s dark,” he finally says, “and quiet, and empty, except not really because there’s still plenty of fish and jellies and tiny krill and stuff in the deep, and there are giant venom-sponges living along the trench down there --” he waves a hand vaguely in the direction of the ocean “-- and they tend to make noises sometimes while they filter-feed and most of the deep-sea animals have bioluminescence anyway so I guess it’s not that dark either…” He trails off, seeming to realize how much he’s rambled and contradicted himself, but you’re sitting there grinning at him practically with stars in your eyes, because you love everything about the ocean, and Levi rambling on about sea creatures is just about the cutest thing ever.
He sees you grinning and ducks his head bashfully. “I’m not good at explaining it,” he mumbles. “It’s like … it’s not technically totally dark and quiet and empty, but it feels like it is, you know? It feels like … when I’m down there, I don’t have to worry about anything at all.” He curls in on himself a little, drawing his knees up a bit, like he’s anticipating that you’ll mock him for some part of that, like he’s still not used to the fact that you make a point of being nice to him whenever he’s not being a jerk, because you actually like him.
“That sounds amazing,” you sigh, staying in that relaxed position of yours, like sending out relaxed vibes will help Levi to relax, too. “I wish I could go down there and experience it myself.”
He looks up, uncurls a little. “I could show you?” he offers.
You perk up. “Really? How?”
He offers his hand, a rare moment of confidence, and you take it, smiling. But you have to say, “Uh, Levi. I’m a squishy, air-breathing human, remember? I can’t just swim down with you.”
“Oh,” he says, and covers his embarrassed face with his free hand. “Oh hells, I’m such a stupid --”
“Hey,” you say warningly, squeezing his hand, because you made it a rule last month that he’s not allowed to put himself down around you. You’d like to expand that rule to you’re not allowed to put yourself down, ever, but … one step at a time.
“Uuurggghhh,” he groans, hiding his face in his knees, fully curled up again, alas. “I know, I know, the rule.”
“Friends don’t let friends self-deprecate,” you singsong annoyingly, like you do every time you have to remind him, and it always makes him smile even if he hides it, because yeah, you’re his friend. His true friend.
And he smiles into his knees, this time, face red with joy as much as with embarrassment, and squeezes your hand back without looking at you.
“So, alternate solutions,” you say thoughtfully. “There are submarines in the Devildom, aren’t there?”
His head pops up with sudden excitement. “There are!” he says excitedly, “Diavolo has one!”
You grin at him. “So we’re stealing Diavolo’s submarine then,” you say, pretending to be serious about it, and he physically recoils, dramatically, but doesn’t let go of your hand.
“No!” he protests, “no we’re not doing that, don’t even think about it, Lucifer would kill us!”
“Aw, but it would be so much fun to take it out for a joyride!” you say gleefully.
“Noooo it wouldn’t,” he insists, though he looks a little shifty-eyed about it. You cackle a little.
