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stellariah · 7 days

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foolish heart, common tongue — Mammon x reader

⊹ word count: 1.8k ⊹ content: sfw, slightly suggestive, fluff to angst to fluff again, light marking (love bites), Mammon is a little possessive but not in a creepy way, Mammon calls you "sunshine", reader/MC is referred to as you/your. ⊹ warnings: none. ⊹ a/n: hi. I love Mammon. Sorry for making him sad here.

Mammon thought he was in love with the sun. He has been trying to convince himself that is why his heart feels so hollow.

It was the way that its rays shimmered and danced along your sleeping frame in the early morning.

Your little snores and sighs had stirred him awake. He woke up disoriented, still not entirely believing that you were really there—that he was really there. But there you both were, tangled in your soft sheets and the warmth of each others’ embraces in your bed in the Human World.

He spent a long time just watching you sleep, the sunbeams shifting from a gentle orange to pale amber to a vibrant yellow as the minutes slipped by. They paint your skin and hair like a canvas. A living, breathing work of art.

It was the way that its rays sparkled in your irises, making them glisten like tiny pools of molten gold, as you blinked away the sleep. You shined brighter than a pile of a million Grimm—more than any gem or jewel or coin he’s ever seen.

It was the way that its warmth made your skin feel beneath his lips as he made a trail from your chest to your neck, to your cheeks to your lips, to fully wake you up. He loved the way your heated skin tingled his lips.

You giggled at first, still in a sleepy stupor. But as his lips travelled higher and higher, your laughter faded to soft whimpers. When you moaned his name and thread your fingers in his hair, he thought his heart would beat out of his chest. He craved you. He was greedy for you.

“Good morning, Mamms,” you sighed, your eyes fully opened.

“Mornin’, my sunshine.”

You pulled him into a searing kiss, lips to lips, and your sun-warmed hands traced along the marks on his chest. He was so lost in your touch that he didn’t feel you flip him over. You were stunning wrapped up in your sheets, but somehow you're even more so with your smiley face above him, illuminated by the sun.

It was the way the faint pinky-reds and oranges and purples of the sunset sky illuminated the love bite he made on your neck as you made dinner that evening.

The mark itself was faint on your skin, but the sunset streaming through the kitchen window streaked the tender punctures with its inky plum, lush coral, and soft scarlet. He glided his fingers along the expanse of your neck, narrowly avoiding a swat from the spoon in your hand, feeling the tiny indents and watching the colours shift as he disturbed the rays. He lowered his head to trace it with his lips and tongue as he tugged the fabric of your shirt down to reveal more of your skin—of his marks on his human—to his greedy fingers and mouth.

“Mammon, I’m trying to cook,” you chided, trying and failing to wiggle your way out of his grasp.

“I can’t help it. I need ya.”

“You always need me.”

“Never,” he whispered, pressing another kiss to your skin between your newly exposed shoulder blades. “Enough.”

“You’re insatiable, you know that?” you laughed as you spun around in his hold, flicking the stove off as you went.

“Maybe you should stop making it so easy to love ya.”

“Mammon,” you said, as you cupped his face in your hands. He leaned into your touch, nuzzling his nose along your palm. “I want you to love me.”

It was the way that the sun was gone when his heart was ripped from his chest.

He knew that he and his brothers could not stay in the Human World forever. But, when the night of their departure came, he didn’t expect that you would be staying.

You told him it was to continue studying with Solomon and developing your magical abilities. He thought that was bullshit. You could keep studying in the Devildom. You argued. He yelled. You cried. He cried, too, because there was no way he could change your mind.

The moon shone across your face as he stepped towards the portal that would take him home. He hates the moon for making him see you so sad.

He watched as you hugged each of his brothers, exchanging whispered promises to stay in touch and make it home safely as they stepped one by one through the portal. He watched as your face crumpled when you stepped towards him. He still couldn’t believe that you were not coming with him. How was he supposed to leave you here?

“Mammon, I love you,” you cried as you wrapped him in your arms.

And like the coward he is, he pulled himself from your embrace and stepped into the portal without a word. He watched you fall to your knees, sobs wracking your body, before you disappeared.

He’s awake with a jolt—his head colliding with his textbook—and you’re not there. There’s no sun either.

He had fallen asleep in class again. It’s been months of this recurring nightmare. As he rubs his eyes, he smears fallen tears across his cheekbones. The pages he has fallen asleep on are wet and warped.

He doesn’t miss the sun. He doesn’t love the sun. It’s always been you. He loves you, but he’s ruined everything.

“Is it the same dream again?” Satan asks quietly from the desk beside him.

He just nods refusing to raise his head. He didn’t need to explain his tears anymore. His brothers all knew. Asmodeus casts a knowing look from across the classroom and Leviathan pats his shoulder as he exits. Mammon wants the ground to swallow him whole.

He manages to gather his books and exit the classroom, but his feet just won’t work the way they should. He stumbles several times as he tries to get down the hallway to his next class. After tripping again and slamming into a set of lockers, he resigns, weary frame and broken heart finally crushing him to the ground. Mammon curls himself into a ball and sobs until sleep finally takes him.

The next time he wakes, Mammon is in his room in the House of Lamentation. He doesn’t know how he got there. Honestly, he really doesn’t care. His bed is comforting and your sweater he has wrapped around his pillow still smells faintly of you.

He opens a bleary eye to quickly check his D.D.D. There’s a text from Beel letting him know that he and Lucifer found him and carried him back to his room and that Belphie was coming to check on him. He stamps out a quick “thanks” and then tucks his nose among the threads of your sweater. He tries to fall asleep again, but an incessant banging on his door disrupts him as soon as his eyes get heavy.

“Who's banging on my door?! Get lost!”

“Mammon, it’s me,” Belphie calls from the other side, the wood panel muffling him. “I think you are gonna want to come out here.”

“Oi, I said fuck off! I’m tryna sleep!”

The door splitters against the wall with the force Belphegor uses to fling it open. The sound of the wood cracking and the flood of hallway light make Mammon dizzy.

“Belphie, I ain’t telling ya again. Get out,” he warns, but his youngest brother persists, yanking him from his bed. Mammon hisses, but it does nothing to dissuade Belphegor.

“You’re coming with me. Stop being a baby,” he scolds as he carries Mammon out of his room.

“Oi, I’m not a-”

His retort dies in his throat at the sight of you down the corridor. Your hair has gotten longer and your eyes are blown wide, but it's you. His human.

He’s dreaming still—he has to be. There is no way that you’re here. Mammon pinches his arm and rubs his eyes as Belphegor sets him on his feet.

“It’s not a dream, Mammon,” Lucifer says from somewhere behind him.

There is no sun in the Devildom, but he has never felt warmer or brighter than he does right now, watching his soulmate run to reach his waiting arms. As soon as you are within reach, he grabs you, pulling you tight against his chest and nuzzling his face along your neck.

“Sunshine,” he sobs, voice broken but so full. “You’re here. You’re really here.”

“I’m sorry for being away for so long.”

“When do ya have to go back?”

“Mammon, I’m not going back.”

“What?”

“I’m not going back. At least not for any extended period of time. Being away for that long was torture.”

“You’re telling me,” he chuckles as you swat his chest playfully.

By the next breath, he has you up off your feet and in his room, slamming the fractured door behind him to muffle the cries of protest from his brothers.

“What happened to the-”

“Ah, Belphie got angry 'cause I wasn’t coming out and broke it,” he replies before dropping you unceremoniously on the bed. With a brief incantation and a swish of your wrist, the door is as good as new and the sounds from the corridor cease entirely.

“What did ya do?”

“Magic,” you laugh as you wag your fingers in the air. “So we can have some time alone, if that’s okay?”

“I love you,” Mammon blurts out, as your expression morphs from giddiness to pensiveness as you wait for him to continue. “Sunshine, I was a coward. I can’t believe I didn’t say it to ya back before I left. I’m so sorry. I love you. I’ll love ya forever.”

“Mammon, you’re not a coward. We should have talked more about my stay. It was my fault.” Mammon shakes his head and you sigh. You’re just as stubborn as he is.

“Now get your ass over here. We have months of cuddles to make up.”

He is in your embrace again in an instant. He missed the feeling of your body wrapped around him—the smell of your shampoo as he lays kiss after kiss on your forehead, along your cheeks, and down your neck. When he finally reaches your lips, you’re crying and he wipes at your tears with the pads of his thumbs.

“I love you, Mammon. More than anything. And I’m not going anywhere without you again.”

Though the Devildom was dark and sunless, he has existed here for millennia without some burning star. He has his sunshine in his arms, and this time, he is never letting you go.

#obey me #obey me mammon #mammon x reader #obey me mammon x reader #om mammon x reader #om mammon #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me swd mammon #obey me fanfic #obey me fanfiction #if you #if you've seen this fic before...no you haven't lol #i love this lil guy so fucking much it's unreal #i wanna kiss him so hard on the face #anyway...hope u enjoyed #sio writes

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clambuoyance · 9 months

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I’m sure it’s because not many people know but kon actually has a lot of different sources for angst potential! He’s engineered to be a copy of earths greatest hero yet constantly struggling to find out who he is outside of a given purpose. He galavants around with the idea that he’s independent enough to be his own boss, but from the moment of his creation he’s been told who to be or exploited by the people he meets. He’s both treated like an adult yet punished for acting like a kid. He makes mistakes and often feels like a screw up but he gets up and tries again every time! He’s acts like the S symbol is both something he already deserves (because that’s what he was made for) yet acts as if he constantly has to prove he’s worthy. He didn’t have a name for the first years of his publication history, and for a long time he didn’t know how to be anything other than Superboy (and maybe he’s still figuring that out). He cried tears of joy when Superman finally gave him his very own Kryptonian name and verbally accepted him into the family, a testament to how important that journey of identity and belonging is to him. At the same time, why did it have to take so long?

His life is constantly being uprooted, and he can never settle in one place long enough to call it home. He deserves agency and stability, yet his life is often slipping out of his own control. He yearns for a mother or father, and maybe if he had one, he wouldn’t feel so lost. For a while, he thought he would never grow up and be who he needs to be, which is ironic given how many people are quick to call him immature. He cares so much for his friends and family, and he is pained when people leave and feels immensely guilty when he hurts the people he cares about. Regardless of what he may think, those people are happy to remind him that they think of him as family too and they’ll travel across time and space and to the ends of the earth for him.

Despite being created in a lab to be a copy of someone else, ironically he is brimming with a unique personality that is sometimes sought to be stifled. But he’s tied so much worth into who he’s supposed to be that shaking that foundation shakes his very core and is a source of insecurity. He acts so differently from Clark, yet so similarly as well. He wants to be Superman, but both emulates him and fights to be Different from him. He believes in seeing the good in people, even if it lands him into trouble, and though he may doubt it or question it he really is a hero at heart. He’s like Clark where it matters, but everything else—his personality and style, his connections to his friends and family, his struggles and triumphs—all of that is completely his own.

He may not have figured out everything it meant to be human, but he’s loved enough to die for it. To die would indeed be an awfully great adventure, but like J.M. Barrie said, “To live would be an awfully big adventure.” And Kon has certainly experienced it all, good and bad.

#Not directed at anyone in particular but #Kon el is too busy being tormented by the Horrors to be sad about Tim drake having a diff love interest than him okay💀💀💀#there is so much diff angst potential in him #however I do think he has trouble w change #and would be sad about the fact his bond with a person doesn’t feel as strong as before #ugh idk how to explain it #I could go on about kon for hours #spurred to make this post bc everytime I see ppl say that kon is sad bc Tim doesn’t love him I’m like #there is sooo much more here u guys #kon el #Conner kent #superboy

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