#does it look like mammon or is it just the white hair and blue eyes

[froggibus]

Sated at Last - Mammon

Pairing: Mammon x f! reader (reader uses female pronouns and has a pussy)

Genre: smut/NSFW

Word count: 2.4k

Summary: after finding out you’re a virgin, Mammon is determined to change that

CW: cherry chaser Mammon, reader is super innocent, virgin!reader, loss of virginity, protected sex (yeah, that’s right B), fingering, P/V, (very hurt/comfort of me tbh), very very slight dacryphillia, soft dom! Mammon, aftercare!!, kinda just wholesome and fluffy

its been a while since i wrote any obey me but idk i thought this idea would be kinda cute + mammon lives in my head rent free lol

————

“Wouldn’t that hurt?” You scrunch up your eyebrows at the sex scene playing on the tv. 

“Wouldn’t what hurt?”

“That position, the way they’re…doing it,” you look at Mammon seriously. 

Mammon tilts his head and gives you a lopsided grin, “you mean missionary?”

“Yes?”

He chuckles. “You’ve never done it missionary?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I’ve never done it at all,” you admit. 

You say it so casually and then go back to laying in the crook of Mammon’s arm, your head resting on his chest. 

Fuck, is all the demon can think. He was already infatuated with you, much to his dismay, but your confession has only made it worse. And looking at him with those goddamn doe eyes and asking about sex? He’s so gone. 

He’s grateful you’re too focused on the movie to see the pink tinge to his ears or the strain of his pants. He tries to focus back on the movie, but all he can think about is you and how innocent you are and how sweet you would taste. 

— 

After that night, you’re all he can think about. When he’s studying, when he’s working, even at the fucking dinner table. All he can think about is spreading you out and claiming you before some guy with less honorable intentions does. 

He’s your first man, it’s his job to look out for you. He’s just looking out for you. That’s all. There’s nothing else to it—you’ll get eaten alive in the Devildom if they smell that innocence on you. 

It doesn’t help that you seem to follow him around wherever he goes. You cling to his side at dinner, spend more time in his room than you do in yours, and even hang out at his work while he’s working. The only y/n free hours he gets are when he’s sleeping, and even then he dreams about you. 

“Are you okay?” You tilt your head at the white haired demon.

You’re laying on his couch on your stomach, watching him play video games on the floor. 

“Hm?” Mammon snaps out of his daze, blue eyes meeting yours. 

“You’ve been kinda…off, lately.”

He shrugs, “I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”

“What’s on your mind?”

With impeccable timing, just as Mammon finishes his level and properly looks up at you, the strap of your bra slips down your shoulder. The thin piece of fabric makes his face flush, and with the way he’s reacting to it, you’d think he saw a glimpse of your panties or something. 

“I think,” he sighs. What can he even say to not sound like a total creep? “I-I just need some alone time.”

“Alone time?”

He tugs on his hair in frustration. “Y-you’re so clingy, y/n!”

Your jaw falls open at his words, and there’s an icy feeling spreading inside of you. Clingy? He’s calling you clingy? He’s the only person in the entire Devildom that you feel safe with. The only person you want to be around. 

“I just…I don’t have any other friends here,” your shoulders slump and those cute doe eyes fill up with tears. 

Mammon knows he fucked up as soon as he sees the dejected look on your face. “Gimme some space, y/n.”

You don’t say anything else before you run for the door, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. Mammon watches you leave, and he hates the way it makes his heart hurt. 

Still, it needed to be done. He hates the thoughts he has about you, hates how possessive he feels over you, hates how greedy he is. How he just wants to ruin your innocence for his own selfish gain. 

People really are right about him. 

It only takes an hour before you’re knocking on his door, eyes puffy with tears. Mammon takes his sweet time shuffling to the door, trying to build up the courage to look you in the eye. 

“Mammon,” your voice is soft and low. 

Mammon curses himself for the way his cock swells at the sight of the tears on your face. He’s supposed to protect you from guys like him, but here he is, getting all worked up over your tears and virginity. 

He opens the door, looking down at you seriously. You look up at him, and despite how he had treated you earlier, you still look at him like he hung the moon.

“I just—just want to know what I did wrong,” you say. 

He opens the door wider, “how about you come in?”

You quietly pad into his room, settling down on the couch like you always did. You draw your knees into your chest, waiting for him to sit across from you. 

“I-I’m sorry for being sucha jerk lately,” he says. “I’ve been…struggling, with some personal stuff.”

“Personal stuff? Is everything okay?”

Damn you for being so cute and understanding. He adjusts his pants, taking in a deep breath. 

He can’t meet your eyes, his cheeks flushing. “D’you remember when we were watching that movie a few weeks ago?”

You pause for a minute and he swears he can see the gears turning in your head. You blink a few times, trying to remember. “Do you feel weird because I asked about sex? I’m sorry if I invaded any boundaries and—”

“I feel weird because you said you’re a virgin.”

He looks anywhere but you, his face absolutely burning. If it were possible for him to die of shame, he would. You don’t say anything for a while, trying to think of a reason why he would feel weird about your sex experience. The idea that he thinks of you like that at all is enough to make you clench your thighs together. 

You don’t know why, but you lean in and press your hand over his. “Why?”

In an instant, he’s laying on top of you. One of his hands has your hands pinned above your head, the other is supporting his weight so he doesn’t crush you. You can feel the muscles through his t-shirt, feel every breath he takes and the racing of his heart. You wonder if he can feel the same from you. 

“Because I can smell it on you, and some demons would ravage you if they could smell it on you.”

You take a shaky breath, squirming beneath him. “Some demons?”

“Horrible, selfish, greedy demons that just want to take your innocence for themselves.”

It’s then that his words click for you. Mammon wants to take your virginity, the Mammon wants to have sex with you. Mammon’s been avoiding you because typical of him, he can’t confront his feelings for you. 

“What if,” You pause, knowing that if you say what you’re going to say, everything will change forever. “What if I want that greedy demon to take my innocence?”

His eyes darken. “You don’t want that, y/n. Not from me. I-I ruin everything I touch. I don’t want to ruin you too.”

“Ruin me, Mammon. I don’t care if you ruin me, because it’s you.”

Your words ignite something in him, and suddenly his lips are on yours and his grip is tightening on your wrists. He’s hungry, wasting no time in attacking your mouth with his. He slides his knee between your legs, grinding it right against your sweet spot. 

He’s so turned on, so driven by his own hunger, that it takes everything in him to pull away. “You’re sure you want this?”

“I’m sure.”

“Alright, get in my bed and take your clothes off.”

You obey him, heading up the stairs to his bed and stripping out of your clothes. You cover your exposed chest with crossed arms, laying back on his bed. 

Mammon follows suit, stripping out of the t-shirt he was wearing. His toned stomach makes your face heat up and pussy gush. You look away as he takes his pants off, only looking when he crawls into the bed next to you. 

He slides an arm around your shoulders, tugging your head into his chest. His other hand trails down your thighs, pushing them apart to give his long fingers easier access. He taps your clit with the pad of his finger, eliciting a moan from you. 

You’re reactive, good to know. 

He plays with your clit, rubbing and pinching and rolling it with his hands. “That feel good, baby?”

You can only nod, letting out a breathy mhm in response. Your pussy reacts with every movement of his hands, your hole clenching empty air and leaking juices all over his comforter. 

“What do you need, baby? Tell me.”

You whimper, bucking your hips against his hand. It feels so good, so intense, and it leaves you wanting more. Wanting him. 

“Use your words, baby.”

“I-I need you…I need you to fuck me.”

His hand trails down from your clit to your drooling hole, slowly slipping one of his fingers inside of you. You whine even more now, throwing your head back and closing your eyes. 

Mammon slips another finger inside, slowly working you open on his hands. “Are you okay? Do you want to keep going?”

“I-I want you,” you urge, eyes tearing up from the pleasure building inside of you. 

“I know, I know. But I gotta stretch you out first or you won’t be able to take it.”

His words make you gush even more and he chuckles, taking advantage of how wet you are to slip another finger in. He goes faster now, curling his fingers inside of you. You wrap an arm around his shoulder, running your hand through his hair. 

He pulls his fingers out slowly but you still wince at the emptiness. He can’t help but lick your juices off of them, his cock only getting harder from the way you taste. He gets up from the bed, rummaging through the nightstand until he finds a condom. 

You watch as he rolls it onto his shaft, your eyes widening at the size of him. He climbs back onto the bed between your legs, and you spread them as wide as you can for him. 

“This is what you want? You’re sure?”

“Just fuck me, please.”

He gets it in right away, driving it into you slowly. You’re a little tense, and he’s a lot bigger than you expected, so it takes a minute for him to get it all the way inside of you. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt, though. He’s so deep you can feel it in your tummy, and despite the way it stings, your pussy has never felt better. 

He doesn’t give you much time to adjust—he’s so excited to finally be fucking you that he simply forgets. You don’t mind, though. You’re so horny that you don’t care, even if it does hurt for the first few thrusts. 

He’s slow at first, but as you relax and get wetter, he picks up the pace. He’s propped up on one arm, his chest almost flush with yours. His thrusts are intense, and so deep that they hit the parts of you that you’ve always wanted to be touched. 

“You’re being so good right now,” he pants, “taking me so well.”

You cling to his shoulders, tangle your fingers in his hair, anything to ground yourself to the reality that you’re being fucked by Mammon right now. He moans, but they’re more like quiet whines and they only egg you on more. 

With every deep thrust, the moans are forced out of your throat, and though you try to be quiet, Mammon looks at you with a crooked smile. 

“Shh,” he holds a finger up to his lips. 

“S-sorry,” you say, but you’re cut off by another loud moan when he bottoms out again. 

He covers your mouth with his hand, speeding up even more. He thrusts into you over and over, going as deep as possible every time. The heat inside of you is only building, and you feel like you’re going to burst at any second. 

“I’m gonna cum,” he whines. 

You nod, wrapping your arms tighter around his shoulders to draw him closer. He’s driving his hips into yours so hard that you can feel bruises starting to form on your thighs from where they wrap around him. 

He slams into you, and you come undone. Your muscles contract and relax, and the muscles in your legs start to twitch. Your grip on his shoulders loosens as you focus on the way your whole nervous system seems to have caught fire. 

Mammon collapses into your chest, thrusting a few more sloppy times as he fills the condom with cum. He keeps his head on your shoulder and his cock inside of you while he catches his breath. 

“How are you doing?” He asks. 

“Good,” you say, rubbing circles on his back. 

“Do you need anything?”

You shake your head, “just you.”

“I’m all yours,” he kisses your forehead.

He pulls out, leaving you feeling cold and empty. He ties off the condom and throws it in his trash bin before pulling his underwear back on. 

He passes you his t-shirt, “you can put this on. I’m sure you’re gonna be a little sore so if you don’t wanna wear your panties, that’s okay.”

He helps you tug the shirt over your head, and kisses the tip of your nose. “I’m gonna grab some water, you should go pee before you go to bed. Okay?”

You nod, standing up on shaky legs. He’s right, you are a little sore. There’s a weird tight feeling in your tummy, not unlike the one while he was fucking you. You manage to make your way to the bathroom, grateful that it’s so close to his room and that it’s so late at night that no one else was around to notice. 

When you get back to Mammon’s room, he has the comforter pulled back and a glass of water at your bedside. 

You crawl into the bed and take a few sips of the water. “Thank you,” you mumble. You slide under the comforter and turn over on your side. “For everything.”

“Get some rest, baby. Sweet dreams.” He flicks off the light and goes to bed next to you, and everything in the world feels right again. 

#mammon x you #mammon x reader #shall we date mammon #obey me mammon #mammon fluff #mammon smut #mammon angst #mammon hurt/comfort #obey me oneshot #obey me swd #obey me x you #obey me x reader #obey me devildom #mammon #mammon avatar of greed #x reader #x you #x you smut

[melon-cream-enmu]

Reader is plus size. Always. Repost from peach-cream-enmu-archive

OK BUT THE READER GETTING HIT WITH A CURSE FROM SOME MAGIC ITEM AND TAKING ON TRAITS OF THE DEMON BROTHERS

Pretty plumage of a peacock that Lucifer can’t seem to look away from, a purple, blue, and green shine in your eyes when you turn your head. They ruffle a bit, flustered, as he comes up behind you and holds the plush of your sides and wraps his arms around your body

White and black feathers showing up in your hair a lot making you shake your head (like birds do their feathers) and long black nails Mammon wants threading through his hair.

Gorgeous orange scales around your eyes and cheeks, on your shoulders, your ribs, your hips. How they disperse a bit when you sit and the weight of your thighs pillow, he’s enamor with it. Levi keeps staring, and when your slit pupils relax and widen when you look at him? His hearts beating so fast.

Your hairs grown a bit longer, now with strands matching Satan’s bright blonde, markings on your leg, winding down like his tails does his own. Maybe even a soft tail that he can’t help but play with. Later, when you take your shirt off, you notice how you glow in the dark of your room, ribs visible and bright.

Sharp fangs and pointed nails, a bleeding heart on your cheek that Asmodeus can’t help but kiss. You have a sweet, enticing scent that grabs everyone’s attention. A stout little scorpion tail, nestled right above your butt. He strokes the base of it gently and watches how it riles you up, squirming in his arms.

Cute fluttering bug wings on your back, beels neck and chest markings taking their place on your ribs and upper thighs. A greenish blue shine to your skin, like the skin of a fly. Your appetite grows, but nothing is appetizing. Unless Beel is eating it, or reaching for it. Then you ask if he can share.

Cute horns, big cow ears, a cute tail! Belphies splotch type markings on your lower back and outer thigh. If someone could scratch between your horns you’d really appreciate that…You seem to be more tired than usual, you and Belphie often found in a sleeping pile during the duration of the curse.

Do we know if Diavolo and barbatos have symbolic animals? If so let me know I can do them too!

Im getting not so canon here now

OOOOHHHHH AND MAYBE EVEN THE ANGELS

Your hair gets curly, coils grow tighter, straight a hair gets a little wavy, maybe even just frizzy, little ears, and a pink/black tinted nose. Simeon doesn’t mean to stare but he points out your little sheep tail!

Cute dog ears that stick up tall, a curled tail that wags when you don’t want it to. Your temper is a bit shorter too, time to get teased by everyone. Luke notes that you hang around the kitchen while bakes…

#obey me x reader #cream om #sugar coated cream #lucifer x mc #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #simeon x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader

[minteyeddevil]

“Tight Fit”

Mammon x GN!MC/Reader, Smut, mini-fic

(Let’s pretend Mammon wouldn’t know what a cock ring does, huehue.)

He gave a slight grunt, feeling the tight ring of silicon slide along his thick cock. It giving a twitch and pulse as the ring settled at the base, right above his balls. He watched as you leaned back, taking in his position, his eyes darting down to your lips as your tongue peaked out as you seemed to be fully concentrating on making him comfortable.

“Does it feel too tight? Hurt at all?” you asked him, the concern very apparent in your voice.

He looked down at his cock, noting how it seemed to swell a bit more due to the tightness of the ring; but he shook his head. “Feels just fine.”

You smiled at his reply, letting go of the breath you were holding as you waited to make sure you had placed it on him correctly. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt him; although, he was certainly in for quite the shock later on...

He gave you a lopsided grin as he grabbed you and pulled you into his lap, letting himself fall back onto the bed as you straddled him. He felt your entrance rub against his tip and he let out another deep groan, his eyes slowly fluttering shut.

“Who knew you were into trying things like this,” he mumbled, his hips bucking up into you eagerly as you reached over to the bedside table, grabbing the bottle of your lubricant. You giggled as he grabbed the bottle from you, wanting to prep you himself.

“You seem just as eager,” you teased, voice slowly ending in a whimper as his fingers worked your hole thoroughly.

“Always when it comes to ya, babe,” he mumbled, pulling you down for a kiss as you positioned his cock at your entrance, slowly sinking down on to him.

You pulled from the kiss and bit your lip to stifle the moan coming from your throat, rutting your hips against his as you were filled to the hilt. “Like I thought, the ring does make you feel bigger. Surprisingly,” you added with a teasing air and a wink, making him roll his eyes slightly at you.

“Then how’s about you take this on, huh?”

His hands gripped your waist tightly, as he dug his heels into the mattress to pound up into you. Your hands came to splay on his chest, mouth agape at the tempo he took up.

The added girth of his cock made your peak come faster, especially with the brutal pace he was taking against you, and you could feel your limbs begin to tingle and tense as the wave of euphoria crashed down on you. Your eyes slammed shut and you collapsed atop his chest, whimpers and groans leaving you as his pace didn’t let up.

He could feel your walls milking him and gripping him so tightly, his fingers digging into the flesh of you bottom as he rolled his hips, burying his cock as deeply as it would go inside you; but his release never came.

With a slight groan of frustration, he rolled you to your back so that you were underneath him, his hands gripping behind your thighs as he continued his thrusting into you, making your vision blank once more as another orgasm soon tore through you. His name tumbled from your lips over and over as he watched your eyes roll back and shut from the sensation; but his peak still wouldn’t come for him.

He tried a few different positions with you, his pounding becoming so brutal your legs began to numb as you came two more times. Eventually, his fist thumped the pillow next to your head, as he let himself collapse on your back, his white hair clinging to his brow as his breath came in deep, heavy pants.

“What the actual fuck?” he growled out loudly in annoyance, rolling his hips against yours, as his cock was still nestled deeply inside you.

You gave a slight whimper, your muscles aching with any movement he did. “What’s wrong, Mammon?”

He pressed his forehead to your shoulder, ashamed to admit it out loud. “I can’t…seem t’cum.”

“That’s too bad,” you sighed, ruffling your fingers in his damp, white hair.

His head picked up immediately at the tone of your voice, and his blue eyes narrowed at you. They seemed to darkened menacingly as well, when he saw the grin playing at your lips.

“Wait a damn minute...You knew this was going to happen to me, didn’t ya? That’s what cock rings do!?”

You mocked innocence, giving him a slight pout. “I just thought using the ring on you would be fun, is all.”

He growled and pulled out of you, flipping you to your back once again, and you could see his cock nestled against your sex, half of the shaft and the tip visible.

His tip was flushed a dark purple, weeping precum and glistening from your combined fluids. It twitched constantly, practically pulsating against your skin, aching for release.

“Look at this,” he motioned towards his cock, “doesn’t it look like it hurts to like all hell? And ya willingly let this happen to me? How rude of ya, MC. Take it off me, now!”

You smirked up at him as you sat up, gripping the silicon ring around his shaft, and snapped the little safety clip at the bottom of it, making it release him. He let out a deep groan of relief, rubbing the base of his shaft to relieve the sting. The ache seemed to ease a bit, but it was still an angry purple and dripping like crazy.

He pushed you back down onto the bed, both hands locking your shoulders down so you could not move. Slowly, from the top of his head, onyx horns began to grow and wings flapped at his back as his demon form began to take over.

Oh. Oh you were in for it now.

“Don’t expect to use that thing on me again, ya hear me?” he growled, his cock pressing against your entrance once more. “And, as punishment,” he snarled further, pressing into you to the hilt so hard you could see stars, “I am gonna edge the ever living hell out of you for the rest of the night.”

#obey me shall we date nsft #obey me nsft #mammon #mammon x mc #mammon x reader #mini fic

[sakura-chan-25]

Where's Nii-san?

Pairing: Cg!Barbatos & regressed!brothers + regressed!Diavolo

Summary: Beel & Lucifer (the caregivers) are too busy to look after their 5 regressed brothers, so Barbatos arranged a play date for them and Diavolo. However Mammon doesn't seem to like this idea. (based on this ask by @ahaclownnoises, seems like Tumblr didn't eat it, I was just too dumb find it... Thanks to the person who liked it, lol)

Word Count: 940

Warning(s): Mammon crying, screaming & throwing a tantrum, little gear (pacifiers, bottles), pet names (sunshine, kiddo, precious, little one)

High-pitched laughter was heard in the garden of the Demon Lord's castle. Diavolo, Asmo and Satan were running in circles, trying to catch each other and getting in Barbatos' way, making him stop in his steps before people could get hurt. Levi and Belphie were sitting on the picnic blanket, coloring together. Only Mammon sat at the steps, which would lead back inside, anxiously looking around, clearly searching for something.

Barbatos noticed this and made his way over, occasionally stopping to safe someone from falling. He briefly looked over at Belphie and Levi still coloring. They were alright, just like Diavolo, Satan and Asmo were.

"What are you searching for, sunshine?", Barbatos asked Mammon as he crouched down in front of him. Mammon's blue eyes shortly looked into Barbatos' green ones, before breaking eye contact and resuming looking around. The older demon followed his gaze, puzzled at finding nothing lying around. Then he remembered what Beelzebub had told him before he and Lucifer left Barbatos on his own device with 6 little ones.

Mammon couldn't stay happy regressed without Lucifer around. Beelzebub however made no suggestions how to make the blue-eyed demon feel better. Instead he thought it was more important to munch on some potato chips before rushing out the door behind a stressed Lucifer.

While Barbatos was remembering this remark Mammon started to fuss, getting ready to throw a big tantrum. Barbatos uncharacteristically panicked and picked the younger demon up. “Nonono, kiddo. You are alright. Your brother will be here soon, I promise. Just hold on a bit longer.” The white-haired demon on his hip still fussed around and some stray tears left his eyes, but screaming was avoided… for now at least.

“How about we go to the kitchen and I make you some warm milk? How does that sound, precious?”, Barbatos asked while bouncing him on his hip. Mammon only nodded and hid in the time-demons neck. Barbatos chuckled softly at the youngers antics and skimmed his eyes over the others. They’d be fine without him for a few minutes.

So, he went inside with Mammon still in his arms. While the older demon prepared the bottle, the younger one half-sat – he pretty much was already lying on his back – on the counter, sucking on his favourite pacifier and playing with his bat-stuffie. As soon as Barbatos was done with the bottle, he picked the regressed demon up and went back to the garden again.

Barbatos was right, the others were fine without him. Asmo, Satan & Diavolo joined Levi and Belphie on the picnic blanket while he was gone. Mammon’s arms around his neck tightened and Barbatos quietly hushed him, starting to bounce him again to hopefully soothe him further. “Don’t you want to join your brothers, sunshine?”, the time-demon asked in a sweet voice. Mammon was still while he was thinking about it, slowly sucking on his pacifier, but then he nodded.

“Mind if we join you?” Barbatos asked the bunch sitting on the blanket. Asmo and Diavolo were delighted and eagerly nodded at Barbatos. The others didn’t even look up at him to acknowledge him and just continued with their little game. A sign that they didn’t care or they were too deep in their little space to comprehend the question.

Barbatos put the bottle of warm milk on the grass and slowly lowered himself and Mammon down on the blanket. He positioned the white-haired demon on his lap before he picked the bottle up again and put it in Mammon’s sight, lightly shaking it in an unvoiced question. Mammon opened his mouth in answer, his pacifier falling into his lap.

While Mammon was drinking his milk, tears built in his eyes. He wanted to sit in his brother’s lap, not in Barbatos’ lap. He wanted his big brother. NOW! Mammon started to squirm around in the older demon’s lap, the tears flowing in waterfalls and his childlike whines freely falling from his mouth.

Barbatos tried to hush him, bouncing him in hopes to get him to calm down. No avail. Not even his brother’s embrace helped the young demon to calm down. They had to wait until Lucifer was back. Luckily, they haven’t had to wait long anymore. About an hour later, when they eventually reduced Mammon’s tantrum into tiny sniffles and stray tears, they heard the door to the garden open, accompanied by chewing sounds and a mumbled greeting from the orange-haired demon.

Next to him stood the red-eyed demon sighing tiredly and greeting the bunch on the blanket. Barbatos let out a sigh of relief. Then he flinched, when Mammon tossed around and screamed at the top of his lungs. Not even a second later Lucifer took his little brother from the shorter demon and bounced him on his hip while softly hushing him: “Shhhh, sunshine. It’s alright. Did you miss me, little one?”

Mammon only nodded as he wrapped his arms clumsily but tightly around Lucifer. He hid his head into the crook of his brother’s neck as his tantrum dissolved as fast as it came. The others were relived and finally carried on playing around in the garden, not worried about Mammon’s tantrums anymore.

Lucifer sat next to Barbatos and Beel, who had a regressed sleeping Belphie in his arms, on the picnic blanket with a half-asleep Mammon sucking on his pacifier in his arms. They were watching the others running around in circles again, probably playing catch or some sort of ‘knights saving the princess(es)’ with sticks in their hands. (We probably know who’s who.)

They all looked like a happy family together like that, no?

A/n: The ask was in October... I said I would write it the following day... AND I DID, I just didn't finish it. I hope you enjoyed and have a good day/night! :D

#obey me #obey me agere #obey me comfort #obey me brothers #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me royals #obey me barbatos #obey me diavolo #age regression #sfw agere #agere

[elsecrytt]

The Son he Calls Brother

Love?

Lucifer's father had loved him. Lilith's father had loved her.

Satan doesn't need love. He needs to behave. Before the Demon King decides to find a new Avatar of Wrath.

[Tags: Genfic, angst, mild violence, PTSD/trauma, Mammon is trying SO HARD to keep this family together. LONG POST.]

It’s morbid curiosity, really. And the possibility that they’re some kind of hazardous material, or worse, retain some of their celestial magic, that drives Lucifer to go search down his discarded wings.

Everyone he had spoken to said that there had been seven stars falling from the heavens.

But Beel and Belphie had held one another as they’d fallen – how could anyone distinguish between the two?

Fresh off his alliance (his oath of eternal loyalty) with the Demon Prince, Lucifer searches, hunts, scours the land for the seventh fallen star.

There’s only one thing it could be, after all. Simeon had not sided with them, not even at the very end.

And Lucifer finds it, or what appears to be it. Six wings.

The memory of how beautifully white they had been, haunts the smudges of dirt, of grime and dust and blackened char that eats at all the scattered feathers. A splatter of once-holy blood on common Devildom dirt.

This doesn’t come as a surprise. What does is a ball, a furl in the midst of six wings broken and mangled beyond recognition by the fall they endured; not of white feathers, but of black.

His new wings ruffle gently behind him as he approaches. Of the original six, only four had grown back. Were these the two remaining, somehow?

Inexplicably, the bundle of darkened feathers moves. The motion has him tense, on high alert, but there’s nothing there – just a pile of blackened feathers in the midst of once-pure seraph wings rotting away.

And then the pile ruffles again. It’s covering something, something’s inside it, and –

A flash. Green and vivid flames crackling to life in the surroundings.

From the rotten heap springs a beast, covered in blackened feathers, with a crown of golden hair upon its head.

Dark horns and a matching tail confirm this is a native of the devildom, but the feathers move with it naturally instead of falling away, trailing behind it as it stumbles.

The creature before him snarls, biting as it charges towards Lucifer with a growl. It crashes into his leg, clawing at it, pressing its face close and opening its jaws wide to try and bite.

It’s little more than a nuisance, but he’s not wearing his armor (demons do not wear armor) and the sting that comes through is not entirely unfamiliar.

The creature snarls more and digs its teeth in, tiny pinpricks that feel like the tickle of flames holy and searing at his feet.

His leg jerks, and that’s all it takes to dislodge the creature.

It stumbles back with a growl, face contorted wickedly, the whole of its tiny body curling up on itself protectively. Its feathers puff up as it crouches to gather itself.

What is this creature doing here? It looks up with wide, ferocious eyes, pupils narrowed to pinpricks, irises a lovely shade of blue-green.

It’s small, quite clearly young, and yet its features are very fair, skin clear, hair bright and clean.

It doesn’t look like a demon.

It looks like an angel.

Except for how its face crinkles, eyes filling with emotion far too severe for so youthful a face.

The tail, lined with black scales that turn green at the end, twists violently behind it. It thuds against the ground twice before a flick sends it whipping against a larger rock, sent flying by the impact.

When the creature flinches, Lucifer nearly jerks in response. Shock and pain flash across its face, and in an instant, it spins, growling just as fiercely as it had before.

Now, its claws are spread wide as it jumps towards the source of its pain, an imaginary attacker, descending upon the empty ground as if pouncing on a mouse.

It would be amusing, but the creature claws uselessly into the hard dirt. The sound is scraping and painful to the ears.

It’s so angry at every insignificant annoyance, so full of wrath in that tiny little body –

Wrath.

Lucifer swallows, a weight heavy but not unfamiliar settling on his chest.

Suddenly, the surroundings seem to widen. The moon seems to brighten in the sky, or perhaps the flames on the ground flicker with greater light.

It’s too open here. The stars above are vast, all-encompassing, swallowing up his vision until one of them seems to twinkle emerald-blue.

There’s an uncomfortable sensation inside his chest. His back aches. There’s a breeze that flushes across the empty clearing, cooler on his skin than it should be, almost stinging his face. It sends feathers rustling into the air, dirt-stained, floating away.

It also sends the creature before him into another inexplicable fit. It howls, waving its arms as if to cut through the air, and at its shoulders a blanket of dark feathers flutter behind him. They’re not wings.

But they don’t have to be. It’s telling enough, isn’t it?

This… thing came from him. This… child.

My son, highest of My Seraphs, holiest of holies who stands closest to My throne. 

Lilith, smiling, holding his hand in hers. Confessing that she had selfishly wished for her lover to live, and was ready to pay the price.

“This was my choice, Lucy,” She’d told him, kissing his cheek. “You aren’t responsible for it. You can’t be responsible for it.”

(Had she sent the others away so they would not see his tears?)

“Get that through your big head, okay? Not everything is your fault.”

To this day, you are perfect as you were the moment I created you. 

A flick on his forehead. He’d caught it.

“Lilith-” The stern lecture already formed on his lips, but she’d hear none of it.

(He’d told himself he could scold her later. He would scold her later.)

“I know what you’re thinking, but no. You taught me courage, Lucifer. You taught me strength, compassion, and you taught me to treasure what I love.”

How could Father kill a being that looked up at him with such light in her eyes? With so sincere a smile in the face of certain death?

He blinks. The wetness in his eyes does not abate.

“I will never stop being grateful to have known you. But I chose what to do with the things I learned from you. I decided it meant breaking the rules, and I knew what would happen to me before I did it.”

You need not fear, My son, beloved Morningstar; in your heart you know the right decision.

He blinks at the child, so small, and so angry, lashing out with a frenetic energy at anything that moved, as though some enemy was lurking in every shadow.

Eyes darting around the area, jumping at anything that moved as if it might be attacked by some demon at any moment.

The Devildom is a dangerous place. It’s dark. It was dark. The moon is bright tonight, and full, seemingly without a sun to illuminate it.

A hand rises to clutch at his chest, which aches with a strange pain as a rush pours through his veins.

The sky is too wide, and blindingly bright, like her smile, like the radiant halo he once had borne, like the spears cast down by his Father in heavenly righteousness, raining down and piercing all who had hoped for Lilith to live.

Nails dig into his palm, cutting through the gloves. Diavolo had given him these clothes. Would he be angry that they were ruined? Would… would he be angry at the child?

A kind, smiling face, full of generosity, reaching hands out to show mercy –

You know the fate of those who violate the law of the heavens. You allowed her to visit the human realm. You accepted her decision. This is what must come of it.

His heart is thundering in his chest as the creature before him thrashes, tail snapping wickedly as green flames flicker at the floor.

They’re tiny things, like the creature himself, not awe-inspiring and vast, not insurmountable might reigned down from the heavens –

And then he realizes his breathing has grown so loud he hears it even over the race of his heart or the noises of the child in front of him.

(Its eyes are trained back on Lucifer. It looks away when Lucifer’s gaze falls upon it)

Of course. He’d been in battle so recently. The leftover adrenaline… Nothing he cannot overcome.

The demon before him roars in a tiny voice, grasping at his head with small fists, clutching and tugging its hair, tail whipping violently as green embers burning on the ground flicker and blaze. The creature's little face is contorted into – pain?

It’s – he’s so young. So small.

This time, Lucifer is the one to approach. Scooping the demon into his arms isn’t remotely difficult. Even when he squirms, Lucifer simply holds it close, securely against his chest.

The details can be taken care of later. For now, the child must be bathed, clothed. He’ll need a name, and to start learning to communicate…

There’s a sharp sting at his neck, and then wetness trickling down. Another bite.

This time, the child stubbornly digs his teeth in, hard, as if hoping to gouge out flesh, but he doesn’t have the strength, and instead remained locked there, still in his arms.

Good. His uniform won’t be damaged any further.

-

Lucifer stands back, arms crossed, as the child in front of him crouches over the fallen book.

“It’s stupid! THIS is stupid! I HATE IT!” Satan kicks the book across the room, pages fluttering open as it crumples into a corner.

“Control your tail.” It’s snapping wildly back and forth, rattling nearby furniture. “And go pick that book up. You haven’t finished the passage.”

Satan spins on him with a fierce snarl, teeth bared.

“No! I won’t!” He stomps his foot. “The letters are all weird and I don’t know the words! They’re all long and talk about stuff I don’t get. It’s dumb and I don’t like it!”

“If you don’t know what a word means, the dictionary is right there.” The space Lucifer gestures to doesn’t have a book in it, though; it had probably been knocked around by Satan’s (thoroughly unimpressive) fit.

“Why are you here if you don’t even want to HELP me?!” His little face crinkles in annoyance as he glares.

“To make sure you finish the passage.” Lucifer flicks a hand, and the book levitates from the floor, flying up and forwards to hit Satan none too gently in the back, making him stumble.  

As soon as the book makes contact, Satan spins, yelling, trying to bat it out of the air like he was being attacked by some monster.

Lucifer feels his fingers clench and unclench as he watches, frenetic energy building in the air.

“Stop your fussing. Sit down and read.”

The book flies through the air, and he actually has to lean to the side to avoid being hit in the face.

Hmph. If he can line up a throw, he can certainly think carefully enough to not throw a tantrum.

“SHUT UP!” Satan shouts, “I HATE YOU!”

…And he’s already seizing a side table by one of the legs, trying to pry it off, doubtless for another attack.

Another touch of magic is enough to keep it intact, and when Satan doesn’t let it go, he makes it slide back, and Satan nearly falls on his face as it no longer supports his weight.

The green-blue eyes that meet his are full of rage.

He may be the Avatar of Wrath, but he cannot lash out in a fit of anger whenever he feels like it. Even demons had decorum.

(Demons, as it happens, have many things he had not known they had, when he killed them by the thousands)

They stay like that, locked in a staring contest the child can’t possibly win, though Satan’s tail starts squirming behind him as the seconds pass in growing frustration. He doesn’t look away, won’t look away.

Lucifer crosses his arms and keeps them like that. Demons did not obey those weaker than them.

He stares the child down, whose lips curl back, teeth bared, hands fisting at his sides and shaking as he bares the force of Lucifer’s glare but does not look away.

What utterly useless bravery.

Suddenly, there’s a sound, like a crack behind him –

He spins on the sound, wings spread wide in defensive reflex. Satan yells behind him something that he doesn’t hear.

Magic surrounds him, a violet aura erupting from his body as he lowers his horns, claws bared, legs tensing and ready to spring, familiar strength coursing through his body in an instant.

Desk. Fire. Green and toxic. They consume his paperwork. Scorch the desk. Heat. He can feel it from here.

Satan. Satan did this.

It’s like a weight lifted from his chest, a sigh that lets him un-tense, though the edge remains.

A simple spell is enough to dispel the flames, and he turns back to the child… except Satan’s moved closer to him, dug fingers into the feathers of his wings, violently ripping at them as Lucifer moves.

Several of them scatter; with a scoff, he raises them up, gives them a mighty flap, but the boy clings to them fiercely, eyes alight with a wicked anger.

And then it hits him. His paperwork. For Diavolo.

“I said control yourself!” He seizes Satan by the shoulders, yanking him off without even wincing at the feathers that pull painfully from his wings.

As soon as the child’s on his feet again, he presses down on his shoulders with a terrible weight, enough that his knees nearly buckle.

“Books are valuable sources of knowledge. You will learn to read them, to understand what they say, and you will learn to act appropriately.”

Satan’s squirming the entire time. So now the brat doesn’t want to meet his eyes?

He grasps the boy by the chin to force him to look at him.

“If you lose your temper, you are no better than an animal.” His voice grows low and merciless, “Animals do not read, do not learn, and are slaughtered whenever it suits their betters. If that’s what you want to be, then do as you please.”

The child’s eyes are wide as Lucifer releases him, with enough force to send him wavering.

“But if you do not consider yourself a beast, you will finish the passage.”

He will brook no argument and hear no answer; Lucifer strides straight out of his own office, slamming the door behind him.

Satan isn’t stupid. Lucifer probably thinks he is, but as he’s rapidly learning, Lucifer thinks everyone is stupid. Beneath him.

He’s seen it firsthand. The memory is cloudy at the beginning, but the image is still in his mind: Lucifer, standing absolutely still, without a care in the world.

Unmoved even as Satan remembers throwing his whole weight at him, fighting furiously, before finally kicking him away, looking down on him like an insect.

Now Lucifer is giving him that stern look, like Satan should be on his knees thanking him for the honor of his mentorship. Which he’d never even asked for.

Not that it mattered to the bastard.

He isn’t stupid, and he isn’t sniffing either, as he reads through the stupid, dry book that says things like “…the effect of effervescent golden hellfire newt oils has consistently displayed non-negligible deviations between individual demons with and without pacts, in particular, those possessed of human masters…” and then other ones that talked about duchies, princes, and presidents of hell, which didn’t make sense, because wasn’t Lucifer’s stupid precious Lord Diavolo the crown prince anyways?

Nobody explained anything to him. Mammon didn’t know, Levi didn’t talk, Asmo didn’t care, and Beel and Belphie didn’t do anything but eat or sleep. They’re all upset about their sister.

He doesn’t even say her name. It feels like trespassing. When they talk, there’s a face that comes to mind, a kind expression – a tickle and touch at his cheek so tender he has to rub to make sure he’s still imagining it – but it’s not – she was dead before he was… born or whatever.

He doesn’t know her. He knows he never knew her, she never knew him, but his chest still hurts whenever she comes up.

And Lucifer is a jerk.

He thinks he’ll read that stupid book just because he made some nasty comparison between him and an animal.

Like he cares what Lucifer thinks of him, if Lucifer thinks he’s an animal or too dumb to read or whatever.

(he has the passage open in front of him, and is maybe two thirds of the way through)

Satan isn’t dumb. Lucifer’s going to think whatever he wants. It doesn’t matter what he does. It doesn’t matter if he’s angry or not. Lucifer will always think he’s so much better than everyone.

…They’re talking with each other outside now. With Mammon, who’s probably the only person Lucifer lectures more than him.

“Awh, c’mon, Luci – YIP!”

Pft. Mammon really is an idiot.

“Do not call me that. I won’t warn you again.”

A groan. “Yeah, yeah, sorry. But still. Take it easy on the little guy. He’s just a kid.”

“This is the Devildom, and he is the Avatar of Wrath. He will learn to behave or he will die.” There’s a pause, but it’s definitely just his imagination. “He will learn to behave.”

“Ya can’t just say that and – I get it, Lucifer. I know you’re scared – ”

“Mammon?”

“-c-concerned! I get how ya feel but you can’t keep treating him like he’s some nuisance. He’s your son.”

A pause. Something thuds against the door, hard; another thud, like someone striking it.

“…son? My son? I’m his father?”

Something in Lucifer’s voice sounds like cracking, like him stepping on some pathetic thing he considers to be an insect.

It’s not in his chest. He’s not crying. Satan swallows hard.

“What’re you…” A shaky breath from the second born. “Ah, calm down. Calm down! Ya know we’re not on the battlefield anymore!”

Satan doesn’t care that he can hear Mammon pull Lucifer into a hug. He doesn’t care that Lucifer accepts it without complaint, or that Lucifer hasn’t actually rejected any comfort from the brother he calls scum.

“Obviously not. Do you have any other further brilliant insight on the matter, Mammon?”

To rely on others is the ultimate display of weakness. A truth in his bones, something he’s known ever since he was born. Something Lucifer knows better than anyone.

And still he depends on Mammon, who he spends all his time making an example of, to stoke his stupid ego?

“Well, maybe I do. But ya – I’m thirsty. Let’s go get a drink and chat in your room, since ya stuck the kid in there.”

A hypocrite. A liar and a fraud. It’s a good thing Lucifer doesn’t consider him to be his son, because who wouldn’t be ashamed of such a father?

Satan wouldn’t accept Lucifer as his father even if he begged for it. Lucifer probably knows, and that’s why he won’t bother.

“…Let’s go.” His tone is soft.

It doesn’t really matter who Lucifer’s the closest to. He’s just such a bastard.

It’s not like Mammon is getting lucky, with the privilege of being Lucifer’s punching bag or whatever. But the fact that Lucifer apparently cares about him so much just makes it worse. He’s a jerk.

Satan hates him. Hates him.

It’s a decision he makes that day, and carries for the rest of his life.

(his first and only point of pride)

Who cares what Lucifer thinks. Lucifer thinks he’s better than everyone, and always will.

All the other brothers are lost in their own little worlds, clinging on one another, or stringing one another up and pretending they cared. At least this is something he can do on his own.

And maybe, since Lucifer’s too self-important to lie, he can get something out of it anyways. Or maybe he won’t and he’ll just ruin this STUPID BOOK and crumple its paper in his hands –

…no. No way. He can’t give Lucifer another reason to be a jerk.

Not that he ever needed any in the first place.

Satan buries his thoughts, and all the feelings that come with them, into the book in front of him, and he doesn’t shed a singletear, not even long after he finishes the stupid passage, and then the next few chapters after that.

(He blinks something fierce, though)

-

Mammon stumbles down the hall with his stubborn brother. Lucifer follows in longer strides, like the stupid tall bastard he is, and wordlessly unlocks the cursed door handle to his room so they can both enter.

There’s a long silence.

“Lucifer,” Mammon asks, because he has to, because no one else will, not even Lucifer, if he doesn’t. “What… what was that?”

“What was what?”

“The… thing. About Satan being your son.”

“…son. My son.” The expression on Lucifer’s face makes him feel like ants are crawling down his spine, “Lilith looked up to me. I knew she fell in love with a human. I let it happen, because I thought it made her happy.”

“She was happy, Lucifer. I – ” Mammon swallows hard, tears gathering in his throat, “I miss her too. Believe me, I do. She made her choice, we made ours.”

“And I chose to let her die.” His voice is like stone, like the ice, like steely blades clashing in eternal sunlight, “I could have stopped her, Mammon.”

Stone breaking.

“If I had, she would be alive.”

Ice cracking.

“She would be with all of us. Right now.”

Splinters pierce his chest.

“But I failed.” Mammon looks into Lucifer’s eyes, more grey than black, devoid of the fire and righteous fury he’d had before.

This ain’t Lucifer. Lucifer doesn’t sound so broken, so defeated. But Lucifer had been defeated, hadn’t he? And now it was time to rise from the wreckage, survive and heal from the blow.

It ain’t so hard. He can do it. They can all do it. Lucifer just… hasn’t had practice. But he’ll pull through like he always does.

And his biggest little brother’ll be with him the whole way.

“Do ya really think she could’ve ever been happy, abandoning her love to die when she knew a way to save him?” Mammon closes the distance, putting an arm over his brother’s shoulder in a half-embrace.

Lucifer doesn’t move. “I could have stopped her.”

“Yeah, sure.” A wry smile overtakes his face. “Like you wouldn’ta done the same thing for any of us.”

“…”

It’s crappy circumstances, sure… but it ain’t every day you can one over on the Morningstar. Heh.

Man, Lucifer really was off his game.

“Admit it. You’re proud of her. We all were, you know that? She made the right choice, Lucifer, she did what we all would’ve done.”

“Yes, she was right. But I’d rather she be alive.”

“Yeah… Yeah, I get it. Listen, whatever ya call yourself, whatever ya call the kid. He looks up to ya too, Lucifer. If you’re really so – concerned about him going bad, you gotta set a good example. Ya can’t lash out at him like that. Show him how a big important boss demon does it.”

“Oh? I should set an example?” It ain’t ever a good thing when Lucifer starts smirking like that. “Tell me, Mammon, does this insight come from your own past experiences?”

“No! I mean, maybe – I mean, no! ARGH! WHO CARES!” He storms out of the room, face blazing, heart assured; if Lucifer could tease him, then he was doing a lot better.

And it sure beat being strung up, too. Still, Lucifer was on edge these days, upset so often. He could sympathize.

It was just until he got better. Until they all got better.

Just until then.

-

It’s an unusual day, this day.

Mammon had, miraculously, found himself actual work. There were no unexplained bills, no contacts from debt collectors, no worrying warnings or cursed objects from witches.

(He’s proud of him. He’d always known Mammon would pull through.

…Eventually.)

Leviathan was holed up in his room as always, but when he’d stopped by, Levi had said hello, and Beel mentioned he’d brought him food earlier that day. He forgot to eat often, but Beel had promised to bring him dinner, too, and Levi had promised to eat it.

If Beel was up and about, then Belphie would be, too. At least a little. It was good to see their faces around the house, even for a few moments.

Hands flexing – they feel naked without the gloves on, painted fingertips strange and heavy with the gloss Asmo had layered on them so meticulously as he’d chattered mindlessly away about idle gossip. With enthusiasm, though; he’d been out of the house so much lately that they hadn’t seen each other.

The memory of Asmo’s lovely face brightening when he agreed to spend time with him still warms his chest.

It all made for an unusual day. Diavolo had sent him home early, and following the most recent signature and seal, he’d gotten ahead on his paperwork.

It’s still early in the evening and Lucifer finds himself in a situation both miraculous (which shouldn’t be possible, in the Devildom) and strange:

He has the evening free.

Lucifer brews himself a coffee, more out of habit than anything else. He sets on a record – this one is cursed, actually, and it adds to the listening experience, truly.

Lesser demons would probably be paralyzed, but this sent pleasant shivers down his spine.

He sits not in his desk chair but in the seat by the fireplace, leaning back, and sipping at the cup in his hands.

And then he hears a knock. 

Satan doesn’t care what Lucifer thinks. Not even a little bit. He doesn’t want that bastard’s attention or anything, either. Not like Mammon does every time he acts out.

This is all about revenge.

 It’s with that thought that he carries the latest book he’d been reading, A Complete Historical Account of Very Early Devildom Times, over to Lucifer’s office.

If he’s also thinking that swallowing his pride and asking for help (which isn’t what he’s doing) is something Lucifer just isn’t capable of, and something he could be better than him at… well, it’s not like he had to say that when he sees Lucifer, right?

There’s music playing inside, which is strange. He knocks anyways. Lucifer would hear it.

The music doesn’t stop, but sure enough, the demon inside answers.

“Come in.”

He turns the metal knob, tugging the heavy wooden door open while he holds the book close in one hand, striding in without hesitation –

What.

Satan stands there, still, for a moment before Lucifer sees him, who it is. His arms are shaking, his legs tremble.

Something is. Something is… something isn’t good this doesn’t feel good it’s too cold (it’s like lucifer is pressing down on his shoulders again, he can’t even support himself)

and in an instant he’s falling, helplessly, through the air, book tumbling from his arm as every muscle in his body seizes up, violently, painfully.

And then –

And then he hits –

Strong arms catch him, gently. There’s a scratching noise as what must be the record pauses sharply in its playing, and the music is over.

That bastard’s face, crimson eyes, right in front of him, looking at him like he’s some kind of pitiful creature as he gently returns him to his feet.

“What was THAT?!” He stares at the floor while he asks.

Satan doesn’t even have to look; he can hear the smugness. “Oh, the music? A cursed record. It paralyzes anyone who listens to it.”

Of course. He couldn’t listen to something normal, like actual music.

“Great.” It’s stupid that that’s all he can say, that he doesn’t have a better response.

“Are you still having trouble reading?” Lucifer’s voice begins to harden, and when he finally does meet his face Satan sees his eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Have you come to set my desk on fire again?”

He wants to scream. He wants to hurl the book at this STUPID – he won’t. He won’t.

He’s not an animal.

“No! I – ” Lucifer crosses his arms, and he suddenly feels very small. “You know what? Never mind. It doesn’t matter. Listen to your stupid record.”

Satan turns on his heel, but a hand clasps against his arm, holding him back when he tries to move.

“You came here for a reason.” Lucifer demands, holding onto Satan’s arm, “Is this some kind of game? You’ve come to prank me?”

That’s more than enough interaction with Lucifer for one lifetime. Maybe for five or six. Satan tugs hard to get away. “No! Let me go!”

“Then what is it?” The hand doesn’t release him. “Last time, you told me I wasn’t helping. Is that what you want?”

It’s weird, because it’s definitely not what he’d wanted, not really, but then the realization that he didn’t even have a good answer, he didn’t have a plan, crashes down on him at once, and he can’t help but bite his lips.

But Lucifer only sees a child who refuses to speak, who pulls against him, and whose fangs just peek out from his bottom lip.

“Tell me what you’re doing here.” He speaks in the tone that brooks no further warnings.

Another savage pull from Satan’s arm, so fierce he wonders if the child hurt even himself in his anger. “Let me go!”

“Answer me!” He pulls Satan closer, eyes roaming over his form, the book he’d dropped on the floor, “What are you doing?!”

“Shut up!” Satan shouts at him in that tiny voice, strained to loudness, “I hate you! I don’t want your help!”

“I thought I told you to learn to act appropriately!” He seethes.

Lucifer feels his mouth curl into a sneer, and then the feeling is obliterated in an instant as he notices that Satan is blinking back tears.

And then it’s not Satan in front of him at all.

It’s Lilith’s beautiful face, still full of youth; she barely comes up to his knees, smiling bashfully as she reaches out her arms to be lifted up. There’s a phantom pressure, on his joints, on his hands, as if he’s holding her one last time.

The child’s face in front of him twists in fury, and then it’s Mammon. Young, sulking about in trees, avoiding his duties and his watcher.

Acting out for any scrap of attention he could get, and opening up his heart and soul to Lucifer the instant he sat next to the boy and listened.

It’s Belphie, with his endless curiosity, little trips into the human world full of discovery and wonder, and it’s also Belphie broken-hearted, shocked pale as snow, breaking at the news of his sister’s death and crumbling from the inside out.

The face in front of him is all of them, all of his brothers, all of them choosing to follow him down from heaven, all of them fighting in his war.

Except the boy in front of him never had any choice. He only fell as Lucifer fell, being made a sin.

A tiny kick bites at his shin, growling too high-pitched to be anything resembling intimidating, a scaled tail not quite long enough to whip him swishing in agitation.

Green eyes full of wrath as his too-young voice insists, “I don’t care! I don’t care! You’re the worst, and I hate you anyways!”

Embers smolder on his desk behind him – but before he can dispel them he hears an awful noise behind him, a whimper that’s strangled, and the embers choke and die on the spot.

“Satan,” He starts, and waits for a moment for the faces to settle, for the scenes to shift. If he only waits a moment, it will be well. He hears his own voice continue, “Did you…”

But between the heavy, distant distractions in his head and the room warmer than it should be, when he next focuses, there is no one before him. The child once there is gone.

He’d – he’d yelled at him, hadn’t he? Did he scare him? Is that why Satan ran off?

No… No, Satan was angry. Satan was always angry.

…but that wasn’t his fault, was it? 

Lucifer walks through the silent halls, quieter than a grave. He comes to a room next door to Asmo’s, a bit empty, but slowly filling up with books and toys here and there, a tiny bed wedged by a window he knew Satan liked to sit by and stare out of.

If he stops, quietly, holding his breath; he can listen. Hear the terrible soft and gentle noises coming from inside.

Lucifer. You are, and shall always be, My greatest creation.

…he really is a demon, isn’t he?

No. He’s worse than that.

He’s his father.

But Satan will never be his son.

Note: This is a cross-post from Ao3, and a part of the 2022 Lucifer Bday collab! I was paired with two amazing artists who made just gorgeous artwork of child!Satan and Lucifer:

https://twitter.com/luciferbd2022/status/1533866307753476097?s=20&t=cs38tdBKg5OQdJdrpdIR0w

#obey me #lucifer #satan #mammon #long post

[caliginousarchitect]

the KHR cats edition entries inspired by @bonesetblues‘ KHR/BNHA crossover fic “curiosity kills the cat (but satisfaction brings it back)” continue. It's the Arcobaleno this time (finally)! Reborn Black medium hair thing. Adult Reborn's drawn with such ludicrously long gangly limbs that we went with some oriental breedtype legs. In the end we couldn't decide between yellow eyes and near-black (which is technically biologically possible but there's only one recorded instance that I know of and they didn't reach adulthood) so both are here. By far he was the most difficult to work out a pose for, he did NOT want to cooperate. Also, curly ear hairs because his curly sideburns needed to be included somehow. I was thinking at the start, either something very small so it'd seem more whacky when he ended up somewhere he shouldn't be, or something quite large, so I also tried throwing a little hint of maine coon flavour in there, but it's not very evident at the end of it I don't think. The fic author's thought for Reborn was Savannah Cat, but I looked at that and went, nah, for reasons explained later on.

Fon Another black medium hair, with some rusting. He seems the sort to spend plenty enough time outdoors during the day for it. I didn't realise before this that Fon has brown eyes, actually. Oriental cat breedtype.

Colonnello Ough the pose, easy, very cooperative. The colour?? not so much. KHR does have characters with realistic blonde hair, but Colonnello is not one of them He has Anime Blond, aka, Yellow. So, Shorthair Black Golden with high ticking, and low-medium white spotting.

Lal Mirch And yet another solid black. Longhair. Her pose was also a tricky one, we knew the vibe of what we wanted, but the actual doing of it was hard. Trying to do her scar was also hard because there just aren't any very good references for it (especially since the anime basically just. turned it into... a tattoo?). Gave her a bunch of white hairs from little scars and some around the face scar. Darkish orange-copper eyes was about as close as we could get to her anime... pink... ish? reddish? eye colour.

Verde Dark blue classic tabby shorthair with low white spotting and blue-grey eyes (teeeechnically probably not very likely since he's not a Point colouration, but they are Possible and the only way to match Verde's canon grey. Why does he have grey eyes, the one time you get an anime character with anime colour hair and he DOESN'T have matching eyes, honestly). The expression was the hard part here, mostly. Trying to get any balance of smug/pideful and annoyed scientist and intrigued at situation? Hard. How is he meant to do a proper science with paws. He cannot hold a pen to write and keyboards are not designed for paws. He needs to make an invention to facilitate this.

Skull Another difficult one to pose, trying to get the bluster and also the fear. Chocolate shorthair with ghost markings and blue eyes. Open mouths from any angle other than side-on are haaaaaard.

Uni Blue/cream charcoal torbie bengal kitten! And here's the main reason we didn't want to do savannah cat Reborn- Uni is an actual hybrid, although we don't actually know her f-generation (... would you call it that, in humans-and-related-species?) from Sepira, but we can guess she was within 10 or so generations. Very low cream, but it is there. Bonuses: Reborn (yellow eye version), Verde (anime colour version), Skull (anime colour version) (and Viper/Mammon is not here becasue they're with the Varia)

#cats #katekyo hitman reborn #khr #bonesetblues #character design #ficart #fanfic art #digital art #our art #cktc(bsbib)

[hell-drabbles]

Hnhngngnhngn do you have any whb oc? Whatever it's self-insert or for reader pllssss I'm curious 🧐🧐🧐

Hmmm only one OC so far, mostly because I wanted to make someone that can make Bimet seethe just by existing. He does not have a name yet but he's a dancer, and the only dancer in a highly popular dance theater that he was gifted by Mammon. I have his appearance in mind, which is a rarity.

He's a real delicate looking man. Tall and thin with light, and I do mean light, pastel pink hair that trails all the way to the floor and then some. His hair is pretty wavy but is mostly weighted down by its own weight, so it's somewhat straight looking as you get higher, but the hair that's on the floor has those waves. This demon oc takes pride in the fact that he can dance with that thick and length of hair without getting it tangled in his feet, or tangled in other objects. There's not even a single knot in it after all his performances.

Dancer demon oc also has these pretty floral patterns painted into his hair that's on the ground. The flowers are usually purple, pink, and light blue. Though he will have different patterns in them depending on what kind of dance he's doing and what story he wants to tell through his dancing.

His eyes pretty much match his hair and eyelashes. Only furthers his delicate looking self. Seriously, he looks like if you so much as breathe in his direction, he'll scatter like a dandelion.

He had two horns and they're both white and just as delicate looking. They curve over the shape of his head and sort of swirl. Almost makes me think of a unicorn's horn, or a narwhal. Either way, he likes to hang little charms off the ends of them when he needs good luck in an experimental performance.

Oh and he likes to wear around eight to twelve layers of those robes at any given time. He does not get hot at all. If anything, he runs a bit in the cold side but nothing too bad. He also has a habit of not wearing any shoes no matter where he goes, on the account that his fans are always eager to carry him in a sedan chair, or litter I think it's called. He doesn't force them or anything, they just love his dances that much and they must carry him so that he can rest his feet.

Given his overly delicate and decorated appearance, it does feel like he'd have this secret hidden nasty side where he'd make all these passive aggressive remarks and secretly looks down on anyone, but no he does not. He's, uh, he's a very friendly man. Almost naively so and takes joy in the little things in life. His loyalty towards Mammon is such that while he earns a lot of money from his dances, he will not put a single cent in his pocket because none of it belongs to him. All the things he wears and how he decorates himself are the exception because they're needed for his dances. He himself is the spectacle his audience has come to see, so he must be presentable. And he has Mammon's permission to dress up as he pleases, so he goes all out.

He does like to see Bimet work himself up in a tizzy because this dancer oc is so... Well, he's clearly rich, his clothes and the theater say as such, and yet he claims to not have a single coin on him. It left Bimet conflicted for all of 10 seconds before declaring him a hobo. And yet Bimet is the only one that looks down on him. It's funny to the dancer oc because it doesn't really hold any weight to him. Bimet still comes and witnesses him dance. Whether he likes it or not, this "hobo" has him enraptured and it's funny to him every time.

He doesn't have a contract with Solomon, as he's not really a fighter or can aid against the angels in any way. He can provide a good distraction with his dances but that's about as far as he can go.

He's basically you're go-to man for information or just some silly gossip. He isn't swayed easily by his libido since there was a time he accidentally ingested aphrodisiacs but refused to cancel his performance. He danced right to the very end.

As such, he makes for an amazing hugging buddy that will not make it weird. He loves to give soft and delicate affection and is in desperate need of it.

He has a habit of hiding his mouth behind his sleeve. There's so much flow to his sleeves that he can hide little devils behind them. He needs his little worker bees to take care of the theater when he can't, after all.

His position is such that the demon oc could've been the right hand man of Mammon, or at least the right hand entertainment hand of his, but he never bothered to chase after such a position. He had no interest. Such a position would limit the amount of people that will witness his dance. And without those many different eyes and minds to take in and speak of his performances, the dancer oc knows his routines would grow stagnant and stale.

"Ho, so you would rot under me? Is that your implication?"

"Your wealth is ever expanding, but parts of it struggle to keep up with you, Your Majesty Mammon. I struggle to keep up with you. Staying in one place is simply more suiting for me and others that need their rest."

So yeah, that's the vibe I have for this unnamed dancer devil oc. I hope a perfect name for him hits me soon. I think he's neat.

#admin #whb oc #what in hell is bad #what in “hell” is bad #whb

[samsaurwrites]

Mine, All Mine (Mammon x Reader NSFW Oneshot

Mine, All Mine (Mammon x fem!Reader)

The rain chases you and Mammon out of the park and keeps his brothers away from the vacation house. How, oh how, will you two fill the time?

*inspired by the Staying Home Together Devilgram story*

Tags: Horny Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Blushing Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Greedy Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Mammon is a thigh man?, Mutual Pining, Idiots Being Idiots, Vaginal Fingering, Marking, Dirty Talk, Vaginal Sex, Spit Kink, Unsafe Sex, No Spoilers

Read here or on AO3.

The rain is relentless, overtaking the small, grassy park suddenly and before either you or Mammon realize it. You, mesmerized by him—by messy white hair and navy-blue eyes tinged with gold, by the timbre of his voice, by the way he grins at you while he talks. Mammon, utterly distracted by the hem of your skirt that keeps inching higher and higher up your thighs, by the way your breasts are nearly spilling out the top of that cute little sundress you’re wearing, by the way you watch him and smile, all syrupy sweet—entirely too busy noticing you to notice the dark clouds gathering overhead.

One minute, you’re lounging on your stomach, propped up on your elbows, ankles crossed in the air behind you. The next, you’re up on your feet, running hand-in-hand with Mammon, while he drags you, laughing and shrieking, back to the house.

By the time you make it back to the vacation house and he pulls you under the cover of the porch, you’re both completely soaked. You can’t help but notice the way his tank clings to his torso, the way droplets of water roll down his chest and the bare skin of his arms; and he can’t help but notice the way your dress has gone nearly see-through, how he can just make out the outline of your bra, your panties.

He holds you, warm hands wrapped around the tops of your arms.

You’re both panting, staring at each other. The air between you electric.

“We should probably head in,” he says, eyes flicking down to your lips so quickly you think you must have imagined it.

“Yeah,” you whisper back, nodding meekly, cheeks flushed such a pretty pink. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

You both retreat inside, but his fingers linger on your skin, on the small of your back, brushing your elbow, your waist—he can’t help himself—he wants to touch you. You shiver when he does, goosebumps crawling across your arms.

You must be cold, he thinks. Maybe he can help. Maybe he can warm you up—

“You, uh,” he clears his throat and pulls his hand away from you. “You can go ahead and take a shower first, if ya want.”

“O-okay, sure,” you nod and scurry off to your room. He’s not even next to you, not even touching you anymore, but you’re still so damn flustered. You stoop down, pick out clothes at random, grabbing a shirt, some shorts, and underwear from your half-unpacked suitcase sitting on the floor. You pause a moment in front of the door, beg your heart to quiet down, and take a big, deep breath.

You edge open your door and slip out into the living room, looking up at him as you do. You can’t help it—he’s right there—and your breath sticks in your throat. Not because he’s lounging on the couch, one finely muscled arm draped over the back; not because his long legs are stretched out so casually, so confidently; not even because he’s ditched his shirt and you no longer have to imagine what he looks like underneath it.

Your breath catches in your throat because he’s staring at you, and his eyes are burning.

You rip your gaze away from him, squeeze your clothes tighter against your chest and flee into the bathroom, pulse thudding behind your ears.

What the fuck did that mean?

He’s wondering the exact same fucking thing. Wondering why, as soon as you made eye contact with him, you ran away. Wondering why you looked at him like that, with eyes so big and wide. He’s sitting there wondering if you really were pressing your thighs together or if he was just imagining it.

“Fuck,” he mutters, palming himself through his sweats.

He hears the shower turn on, can’t help but imagine you peeling off your dress, your bra, your panties—sits there wishing he was the one doing it. His head falls back against the plush cushions of the couch, and he lets his eyes slip closed. He wonders what you look like under that flimsy little dress, wonders what your tits would feel like in his hands, wonders what kind of noises you would make if he pinched your nipples, if he bit your neck, your lip, your thighs.

Fuck, he loves your thighs.

He wonders if you like it soft or rough, wonders if you’d want him to kiss you while he fucks you slow or if you’d want him to bend you in half and make you take it, make you beg for more while you cry because it’s too much and not enough all at the same time. Fuck, he’d do anything—everything—you want if you’d just let him listen to you—

The bathroom door opens, and he yanks a pillow over his crotch, sitting up straighter and clearing his throat.

“Th-that was fast,” he stammers, chokes on the words. “Didn’t have to rush, ya know.”

“I know,” you say, towel drying your hair, smiling shyly. He feels his throat go dry. Your hair falls down around your face, your shoulders in wet waves, several shades darker than when it’s dry. He wants to run his fingers through it, wants to know what kind of shampoo you use and what you smell like.

“But, uh, I figured you’d want to shower soon too,” you continue.

“Sure,” he nods, but makes no move to stand. Can’t. Not when you’re wearing a loose-fitting t-shirt so big it could be his, one that covers you ass and makes it look like you’ve got nothing on underneath, one that lets him see your nipples beneath the fabric.

“Well, uh,” you say, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “I’m gonna go lay down in my room for a bit, if you wanna hang out some more after your shower...”

He nods again. Clears his throat again. Tries to laugh but it sounds so strained. “Sure, sounds good.”

He watches you walk away, watches as you glance back at him with something indescribable, something indecipherable, in your eyes and smile at him—so fucking sweet—before sliding into your room.

Your door closes behind you, and he nearly groans.

You can’t fucking look at him like that and expect him not to—

Fuck, he shakes his head, cuts that train of thought off right there before he actually starts jerking off on the living room couch and throws the pillow back down onto the couch. He stands, achingly hard, and curses under his breath.

You hear the shower turn on, and you roll over in your bed, thighs squeezed together, an incessant throbbing between your legs. You groan into your hands, cheeks warm, thoroughly, horribly embarrassed.

If you wanna come hang out some more? You wanted to take the words back as soon as you said them, had no idea what to make of his eyes widening, his eyebrows shooting up.

You force your eyes shut, try to ignore the embarrassment, the unmistakable wetness between your legs. Maybe a nap will do you good. Maybe it will let you just forget every confusing thing that had happened in the last hour. Maybe, if you keep your eyes closed long enough, the ache between your legs, the urge to touch yourself, will go away on its own. Maybe, you’ll stop imagining what the rest of him looks like naked. Maybe you’ll stop wondering if the rest of him is as warm as his hands are, what he would feel like pressed against you, pressed inside you.

Maybe you should have taken a colder fucking shower.

There’s a knock at your door, one that has you jolting upright.

“C-come in,” you stammer, pulling your blankets up around your chest.

Mammon opens the door, towel draped around his shoulders, hair still dripping, clad in a clean black shirt and a new pair of sweats. He walks in, all bravado and swagger, and plops down next to you on the bed. “Wanna watch some Deviltube?”

“Sure,” you smile back and start to settle in, to lean your head against his shoulder and loop your arm through his. Then you change your mind. Heart pounding, you scoot back and lay down, head in his lap.

“I-Is this okay?” you ask, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Y-yeah, ‘course,” he manages to stammer, staring down at you.

He holds his D.D.D with one hand, angled so you both can see, clicking on something random, something to distract from the thudding in his chest. You relax, snuggle up against him, one hand resting on his thigh. He thinks he might die right there.

But he wants more. Wants to touch you more.

He doesn’t know what to do with his arms, doesn’t know if it’s okay to wrap one around you while he keeps the phone steady with the other. So he moves slowly. Starts off with his arm behind you, fingers dangerously close to your ass, then next to you, toying with the fabric of your shirt, then on your waist, fingers just barely touching your stomach.

You don’t say anything, don’t protest his touch, so he gets a little braver, a little bolder and starts playing with your hair, combing his fingers through it while your eyes flutter shut. Without realizing it, you start to drift off, lulled to sleep by the warmth of his voice, of his touch, of him.

He glances down at you, feels his dick twitch in his sweats because you’re so fucking close to it right now. He wonders what you would do if you knew how hard he is, wonders if you would scream at him and call him a pervert and kick him out of your room or if you would roll over, play with the waistband of his pants, and suck him off.

More.

His head thunks back against the wall, and he imagines what it would feel like with your lips wrapped around his cock, sucking him deeper into the warmth of your pretty little mouth, choking on it when he gets a little too excited, pushes just a little too deep, holds you down just a little too long.

Dammit, he’s gotta move you before he loses it.

“Hey,” he jostles you. “Wake up. You’re droolin’ on my leg.”

“Nn… What?” you stir, then seem to realize you’d fallen asleep, pushing up onto your hands, legs still curled up underneath you. “N-no I wasn’t…” you wipe at your mouth.

“Was I?” your cheeks flush scarlet, and he laughs, cock jumping at the bewildered look on your face, the way your mouth is parted just slightly, the way he can see the pink of your tongue.

“Yeah. Yeah, ya were,” he teases, leaning closer, just a little, feeling a cocky, a little drunk on your touch when he drags his thumb across your lower lip, pretending to wipe the spit away. “Should’ve taken a picture of ya.”

Your reaction is so much better than he was hoping for. You stare at him, eyes half-lidded, breaths coming out in short little pants. “’m sorry, Mammon,” you murmur, tongue wetting your bottom lip.

He glances out the window, then back at you, at your lips. “Still coming down outside,” he says, strokes your cheek and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers trail hot and soft down your neck, and his thumb traces the hollow of your throat. “Guess we’re outta luck, huh?”

“Mm-hmm,” you breathe, leaning into his touch.

“Guess it’s not gonna end anytime soon,” he muses, so close now you can almost taste him, so close all you can focus on is the molten gold of his eyes. When did he get that close? “Everyone else’ll probably be out for a while…”

“Probably,” you whisper, eyes fluttering shut.

“Just you and me then,” he says, lips brushing across yours with each word he speaks, a ghost of a kiss. One that leaves you wanting—needing—more. “I like being alone with you.”

You nod, barely bite back a strangled whimper.

He grins, you can feel it, the curl of his lips and drags his finger across your jaw, tilting your face up. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please—”

He cuts you off before you can finish, crushing his lips to yours in a searing kiss. Your mouth opens form him automatically, and he groans deep in his throat as your tongues intertwine, as he tastes you, just as sweet as he imagined. He nips with his teeth, teases with his tongue, groping and squeezing everything he can reach—digging his fingers into the meat of your thighs, your ass, cupping your tits, pinching your nipples. He can’t get enough.  

You’re just as greedy. Running your hands over his shoulders, dragging your fingernails across his skin, tangling your fingers in his hair, playing with the waistband of his sweats while he kisses you senseless.

“No one’s here to fuckin’ barge in today, huh?” he says between feverish kisses, voice low, husky. “Means your all mine.”

You whimper into his mouth, nod weakly and wrap your arms around his neck as he pulls you onto his lap, as he grabs your hips and grinds you down against his length, so hot and hard, all yours.

He moans, a strangled sound, yanking at the fabric of your shirt, your shorts and panties. “Take this shit off.”

You pull your shirt up and over your head and his lips find you neck, sucking dark bruises into the column of your throat as he unhooks your bra, as he rolls your nipples between his fingers while you shimmy out of your bottoms.

“M-Mammon,” you whine. 

“Hold on,” he laughs breathily, sliding one finger up and down your slit before sinking it deep into your heat. Before adding another. “I’ll give ya more. I'll give you whatever ya want.”

You grind down on his hand, throw your head back when he scissors his fingers inside you, when he presses against that spot that has you keening.

“C’mon, baby,” he groans, rubbing the pad of his thumb against your bundle of nerves, grinning when your hips jerk and your head falls against his shoulder. “Ride my fucking hand. Ya like that? Ya like my fingers inside you?”

You nod, whimpers and pleas spilling out of your mouth as searing pleasure gathers in your core, tightening, going white-hot. He speeds up his pace, crooks his fingers just right, and bites down on the tender junction between neck and shoulder, sinks his teeth so deep you know it’s gonna bruise—know his brothers are gonna see it as soon as they get back—

And that has you cumming all over his fingers.

You collapse forward, going limp in his arms as he slides out of you, fingers wet and sticky with your arousal, your cum.

“So fuckin’ messy,” he murmurs, sounding nearly as out of breath as you are. You look up at him, eyes half-lidded and so fucking pleasure drunk. He holds his fingers in front of your mouth, pushes them against your lips. “Clean ‘em.”

You open your mouth, wrap your lips around his fingers and lave your tongue along the bottom, swirl it around the tips, moaning at the taste of his skin, the taste of you.

His eyes darken, pupils blown wide open, and he pushes deeper and deeper until you gag on them. He does it again. And again, until your eyes roll back and you grab his wrist. Then he slides his fingers out of your mouth, marvels at the thick line of spit that trails from your lips.

He pushes you backwards, lays you flat on your back and pulls his sweats down to his knees, freeing his cock, flushed, hard, and leaking pre-cum. He taps the blunt heat of it against your clit, drinking in the way you jolt and gasp, hands braced on his biceps, fingernails digging into his skin. The way you grind against him, rolling your hips. The way you beg him please.

“Fuckin’ hell,” his words are tight, strangled. He lines the tip of his cock up with your entrance, pushing slowly, gently, until just the head dips into your wet heat. “I can’t ever say no to ya, ya know that?”

You nod, whine as he grabs both your hips and pushes in deeper, filling you so delightfully full, until his hips are flush with yours and you wrap your legs around his waist.

“F—ffuck,” he gasps out, fucking you soft and slow. “Feel good, baby? Ya like the feel of my cock inside ya?”

“Ye-yes,” you pull him down, press your mouth to his in a sloppy kiss “M-more, please, Mammon, more.”

He tightens his grip on your hip, grabs one of your knees and pins it to the bed, thrusting into you harder, faster, fucking you absolutely breathless. Panting, he lets go of your hip and shoves his fingers into your mouth again.

“Open,” he bites out, fingers pressing down into your tongue. “Lemme spit in your mouth.”

You do, mouth lolling open, going slack, whimpering as he stills inside you, as he gathers the spit in his mouth and dribbles it on your tongue, as it rolls past his fingers and into the back of your throat.  

“Swallow,” he tells you—begs you.

Your lips close around his fingers, and you swallow.

He starts moving again. "Good. Fucking. Girl." He growls, pulling all the way out and slamming back in with each word. 

“You feel so good, baby,” he pants, shifts his hips and drives into that spot that has you creaming around his cock, whining and mewling and gasping for more, more, more. “So fuckin’ pretty like this. Split open on my cock. Greedy little hole’s just swallowin’ me up, fuck.”

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, swiping them across your clit, swirling it around and around, nearly loosing it when you clamp down around him. “So fuckin’ needy.” He grunts, slamming into you, pressing down harder on your clit, moving his hand faster, driving you closer and closer to the edge until—

“Cum for me, baby. Make a fuckin' mess on my cock.”

—the coil inside you snaps in two. He fucks you through your peak, thrusting into you hard and sloppy, hips as stuttering as he chases after you, as he pumps you full of thick, hot cum.

He stills, keeps his cock buried inside you while he struggles to catch his breath. He leans down, presses his forehead to yours, cups your face and kisses you. “So good for me,” he breathes, kisses your nose, your cheeks, your closed eyes, your lips again. “And all mine.”

And to Mammon, that means almost as much as I love you.

Thanks for reading!! Consider giving it a ❤️ and a 🔁 if you enjoyed.

You can check out my other writing here.

#mammon x reader #mammon x you #shall we date mammon #obey me mammon #mammon #shall we date obey me #shall we date obey me smut #smut #fanfiction #writing #my writing #writeblr #cross posted on ao3

[mammonsbby]

First and Only

A/N: This is the first smut I've ever written and it's very self indulgent. I'm kinda nervous about it. Please let me know what you think. TwT Pairing: Mammon x M!MC Rating: Explicit Contains: First time, loss of virginity, slight praise kink, anal sex, oral sex (mc receiving) Words: 3462

✨My Masterlist✨

His hands are all over you, and yours all over him. Tiny little noises keep escaping his mouth and you’re honestly getting a little lightheaded. When his hands run down your chest for the third time, you shudder. And he pulls away, laughing, breathlessly. 

“Ya like that, huh?” Mammon asks, no doubt trying to sound cocky and confident, but since he’s flushed from the tops of his ears to where his chest disappears into his t-shirt, he can’t really pull it off. 

“Mhmm,” you answer anyway, desperate for his mouth to return to yours. Once it does, you groan, arching upwards to grind against him. The animalistic growl you’re rewarded with sends a shiver down your spine. Or maybe it was the way his dick brushed against yours. Who knows? 

Either way, you’re both hard and you both want it. There’s only one problem. 

“Mammon,” you whisper against his lips. 

His eyes, half-lidded and framed with snowy white lashes, peer down into yours. “Hm?”

“I’ve never done this before.” you say softly. 

He freezes momentarily, then a smile breaks out across his features, “You’re jokin’, right?”

You shake your head, slightly embarrassed. His mouth forms an o-shape and his eyebrows furrow the tiniest bit. You turn your head, needing to look somewhere besides his beautiful, confused face. After a second though, his hand finds your chin and gently pulls you back to face him.

“Hey, it’s not a big deal. I’m just kinda surprised cuz… You’re really good at this,” Mammon says, gesturing to where your bodies meet.

“I’m just doing what feels good.” you admit, blushing furiously. He seems to accept that, which makes you happy. That means it feels good to him too.

“So… why haven’t ya ever…?” he trails off.

“I guess I… never really trusted anyone that much. To give them something I can’t take back,” you admit.

At that, he swallows deeply, his Adam’s apple bobbing dramatically. “But you trust me that much?”

“Mammon, I trust you more than I’ve ever trusted anyone in my life.” You answer incredulously, as if this was a commonly known fact. As if you can’t believe he doesn’t realize it.

His eyes are shimmering, blue and gold. And before you can ask if he’s all right, his lips crash back into yours. 

Your arms wind around his neck, pulling him closer. He grinds his hips down into yours and you moan at the friction. Mammon uses this opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. And when you push your fingers into his hair, he whines. 

Breaking away for a second, he pulls back a bit and his pupils are blown wide. “You sure ya wanna do this with me?”

“Yeah. After all, you’re my first,” you answer, a smile playing on your lips.

Mammon stares into your eyes for a moment, then scrambles off the bed to go dig through a dresser drawer. After he finds what he’s after, he pulls his shirt off over his head, tossing it to the floor. Then he returns to the bed and drops a couple things by your side as he resumes his position over you.

“Fuck, I love the view from here,” you say, tracing a finger down his abs. His muscles twitch under your touch.

“Speakin’ of views...” Mammon hooks his fingers under the hem of your shirt and starts to pull it up. You lift your arms, allowing him to remove it, then settle back down into the pillows. “Mm,” he hums, eyes roaming your naked torso, as if he’d never seen it before.

“Stop staring,” you say, swatting him with your hand.

“You’re gorgeous,” he whispers, leaning back in to kiss you. Your hands reach for his hair again, scratching at his scalp lightly. 

Lips still on yours, his hands skim down your sides until they reach the waistband of your pants. Just as he starts to undo the button, he pauses and pulls away to look into your eyes.

You nod. And slowly, he unbuttons them and starts to slide them off. It’s incredibly embarrassing, for some reason. You put an arm over your face so you don’t have to make eye contact with him. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, “you good?”

“Yeah,” you answer, voice muffled by your arm.

“Mmkay.” Mammon yanks your jeans off the rest of the way and shoves them off the bed. The cool air of the room washes over your now naked legs; it’s followed by Mammon’s warm hands. They slide from your knees down to your hips, which buck upwards involuntarily. 

“Baby, can I touch you?” he asks, hands mere inches from your crotch. 

You swallow and nod eagerly. “Please,” you ask, voice strained.

Mammon laughs at your enthusiasm and he starts to palm you through your boxers.

“Oh! Ah, fuck.” You can’t control anything. Not your mouth or the way you’re squirming under him. Or how your head rolls back against the pillow. He smiles and wraps his fingers around your clothed cock, stroking it gently. 

“Mammon.”

“Fuck. You’re so pretty.” He says, touching himself now as well. 

“Mammon,” you whine his name again, arching up into his hand. 

“Hmm?” 

Your eyes meet his and you pant softly. “Please.”

He looks confused, “please what?”

“I… don’t know. Just, please,” you say, reaching for his arm. 

His eyes widen and he leans back over you to push your lips together. His hand never falters, softly teasing your leaking dick. When he pulls away, he presses an open mouthed kiss to your neck. You turn your head to the side to give him better access and he starts to leave more kisses. 

You groan, pleasure coursing through you. It’s all too much. You’re so close. So close. 

Oh fuck, you’re too close.

“Stop!” You pant.

Immediately, the demon hovering above you stills. His mouth leaves your neck and he pulls back, with a terrified expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just. I almost…” you trail off, face heating. Mammon sighs in relief, then grins.

“Oh?” he asks, with a smug expression.

“Yeah,” you confess, mortified. Mammon’s gaze softens.

“Don’t worry ‘bout that. Just let me take care of ya. Okay?” He says, eyes flicking from yours to where his hand has been for the last few minutes.

“But—”

“We don’t have to go all the way tonight.” Mammon says gently.

“But I want to. What I don’t want is to ruin my boxers–”

“Oh, that’s not a problem.” Mammon cuts you off by pulling said boxers down. Your dick springs free, slapping against your stomach. You groan. And Mammon hums, appraising your naked body for a moment. Then he tosses your underwear towards the hamper in the corner and continues his ministrations. 

“But Mam, I- Ohhh.” Your eyes roll back when he thumbs at your slit. You want to tell him to slow down, that you’re really not gonna last. But you can’t string a sentence together. 

All you can manage are soft whines and moans, which only spur him on. He moves his hand up and down your length slowly, watching your face the entire time. Your eyes are screwed shut and lips parted. After a few strokes, he laughs softly and you feel the bed shift with his movement.

“What’s so funn- Ahh!” Your words die in your throat when you feel something else around your dick. Something hot and wet. Something with a tongue. 

When you gain the courage to look down, you find Mammon’s eyes are on your face. And his lips are wrapped around your dick. He bobs his head forward, taking it further into his mouth.

“Fuck!” One hand flies to his head, grasping his hair. When he moans, it vibrates around you and you buck into his mouth. “S-sorry,” you try to apologize. 

Somehow, he smiles around you, before pulling off. “You taste good, did ya know that?”

“Fuck.” You pant. “No, I didn’t.”

He grins and dips his head back down to suck at the tip, his fingers curled around the base. 

“Mammon, I’m close. I’m so close,” you say, breathless. His free hand rubs at your hip, reassuringly. You reach for it, lacing your fingers together.  It doesn’t take much more. A few seconds at most, then you buck into his mouth again and he sucks you down into his throat.

“Mammon!” You cry, as you reach your climax. He pumps you through your orgasm, moaning as he swallows every drop you give him. Finally, he pulls off with a pop and smirks, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm. 

“How was that?” Mammon asks, squeezing your hand with his. You close your eyes, laying boneless against the pile of pillows, trying to catch your breath.

“Nnn.” You groan, still not able to make words. Your brain is melted. You could easily fall asleep right now, if your boyfriend wasn’t still situated between your legs. Your eyes snap back open to find him grinning at you.

You whine at the sight and tug at his hand.

“What babe?” Mammon asks, still smiling.

“It was amazing. But, you still have clothes on. It’s not fair.”

His eyes widen and an eyebrow quirks, “We still goin’?”

“Well, yeah. You’re not… done.” You say, gesturing to the obvious tent in his pants.

Mammon laughs. “You think you can go again?”

You pause, “probably…”

“All right.” Mammon rolls over top of you once again. His hand goes to your now soft, but incredibly sensitive dick. He strokes you gently. You whimper, but he keeps going. 

“Mam. Stop that and let me…” You reach for his waist. He stops what he’s doing and sits back on his knees as you unbuckle his belt.

“Damn.” he curses as you fiddle with the zipper and start to tug his jeans down his thighs. 

“That’s my line,” you say, mouth dry. You take in his form, all toned muscles under gorgeous brown skin. The thin white hair that trails down into a pair of perfectly fitting black boxers. The bulge below that.

You carefully place your hand over it, the way he’d done to you earlier, and press your palm against him. Mammon’s eyes flutter closed and he groans softly, finally getting friction.

You take your hand away and carefully start to peel his underwear off. They slide down his thighs and, once his dick is free, your eyes widen. It’s bigger than yours, which you expected, but also it’s the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen. 

Mammon snickers, “Thanks baby.”

Your face flushes. “Did I say that outloud?”

“Mhmm,” he hums, “you did.”

“Well, it is.” You can’t help but stare. It’s perfectly tapered from the base to the tip, which is flushed red. It curves upwards towards his stomach, and slightly to the left. And, wait. What?

You cock your head to the side, “Mammon, do you have a…”

He grins, eyes making happy crescents, “Twenty-four karat gold.”

You wince. 

Mammon’s eyebrows scrunch. “Ya don’t like it?”

“Huh?” When you realize what he’s asking, you shake your head. “No, it looks— Mmhm, God, it looks—” You pause, still staring at it. “But, doesn’t it hurt?”

He laughs softly, “Nope.”

“Oh.” You fall silent and reach your hand out, unsure. Even if it doesn’t hurt, it’s still sort of intimidating. When you hesitate to touch him, Mammon takes your hand and places it around his shaft. Hand overtop yours, he strokes himself, and you can feel the metal against your palm.

He groans and the sound sends a shockwave through both of you. He takes his hand away and you continue to pump him, delighting in the sounds leaving his throat. If it weren’t for the angle, you’d try to taste him as well. But since he’s straddling your lap, with his pants bunched around his thighs, it’s not possible. 

Next time for sure. For now, those pesky jeans have got to go.

Mammon bucks his hips up into your hand and whines when you take it away. He looks into your eyes, “why’d ya stop?”

“I want you to be naked now.” You say, short and sweet and to the point. But your face is burning regardless. 

Mammon’s breathing hitches at your declaration, and he complies quickly by standing and removing the rest of his clothes and climbing back over you. He pushes against your chest gently, so that your back falls against the mattress, and looms over you once again before attacking you with kisses. 

He presses a few to your chest, then your neck and jaw, behind your ear, and finally reaches your mouth. Muffled moans fill the room as each of you grind against the other. And finally, your boyfriend pulls away, his eyes darkened by lust. 

“So, how we doin’ this?” He asks, out of breath.

“How?” You give him a look. “I assumed you knew–”

Mammon chuckles, “I mean are you toppin’ or me?”

“I– I figured you would.”

“Mmkay,” He says simply, reaching for something behind you. 

“Wait, you don’t have a… preference?” You ask, watching as he uncaps a small bottle. 

Mammon shakes his head, “I like it both ways.”

“Huh.” You file that away for later. And start to worry about what comes next. Mammon drizzles a bit of lube across his fingers and tosses the bottle to the side. He presses the pad of his finger against your entrance and you jolt at the intrusion.

“You’ve never done this either? By yourself?” Mammon asks, but he seems to know the answer. When you shake your head, he smiles softly. “Well, it ain’t gonna feel too great at first. But it will, I promise.”

“I trust you.” You answer softly. And butterflies swarm in his chest again at those words. He swallows and tries again, slowly pressing his finger into you. 

“Relax, baby boy, I gotcha.” He says. You moan softly at the pet name and beg your body to relax. When it does, he makes a bit of progress, finally sliding his finger inside with ease. You squirm a bit, unsure of how it’s supposed to feel. He pumps his finger in and out and in and out. And when he thinks you’re ready, he starts to add a second. 

“Ah,” you feel tears prick in the corners of your eyes. 

“Relax,” he reminds you, leaning forward to give you a kiss. You close your eyes and return it, tongues dancing in each other’s mouths. You can still feel his fingers, but they’re at the back of your mind. Eventually, he ends the kiss by nipping your bottom lip, pulling a whine out of you. 

“You’re doing so good.” Mammon says. At that, you moan, the praise going straight to your dick. 

“I am?”

“Mmhm,” he hums, starting to scissor his fingers. You wince at the new sensation, but he puts his free hand on your cock, stroking it gently. 

“How many- Ah, how many fingers do you—” you cut off with a groan. 

“Three, usually,” Mammon answers.

“Three?” Just one more. Then comes his dick. His pretty, perfect, bejeweled dick.

“Yep.” As he speaks, he adds the last one. “I just wanna find..” He trails off, fingers still moving and curling. You’re just about to ask what he’s talking about, but then your back arches off the bed involuntarily and your whole body shudders.

“Mammon!” you yelp, reaching for his arm. 

“Shh, shh,” he says, “it’s okay.” 

His hand stills inside you, but he gives you a moment to recover. A few seconds pass and you roll your hips down on his fingers. “D-do it again,” you command.

“Yessir,” Mammon says, curling his fingers again in just the right way. You’ve never felt anything like this. He keeps going, fingers circling and pressing and touching. Your eyes start to roll back and pleasure courses through you as he continues his assault on your prostate. You start to grind back against his fingers, chasing that feeling. He takes his hand away though, and you whine at the emptiness.

“Hnng, no. No. Please,” you beg.

“Heh, you’re gonna cum again if I keep goin’,” he says, clearly proud to have brought you to this point. Twice. 

“Then, then fuck me,” you say, trying to sound confident. You sound more desperate than anything. But, either way, you don’t have to tell him twice. Mammon grabs a condom, tears it open, and starts to roll it on. “Huh, never realized how you put a condom on,” you remark, watching intently.

Mammon starts to laugh, which irks you, but then he leans forward to peck your lips. And grabs the bottle he’d thrown earlier. He pours some lube on his hand and spreads it across his length, groaning as he fucks into his own hand. 

Then he lines himself up with your entrance, “Are you ready?” He asks, eyes on your face, waiting for any sign of uncertainty. 

“Yes,” you say, steeling yourself for what’s about to happen. Mammon lifts one of your legs, presses his lips against your ankle. The sweet gesture makes something flutter in your chest. Then pushes himself into you, inch by inch, splitting you open. It’s so much different than his fingers. Your mouth opens, but doesn’t produce any sound. 

You’re glad that he took his time with his fingers, because you’re sure this would be unbearable otherwise. You suck air through your teeth as he bottoms out, now fully sheathed inside you. “Tell me when I can move, ‘kay?”

You nod, unable to do much else. Once you adjust to him, the stretch starts to feel good. Like he was made to fit inside you. “Go ahead.”

“You sure? Do I need to stretch ya more?” He asks, somehow still showing restraint.

“No. It’s fine.” You answer just as he starts to kiss you again. 

“Mmm,” he hums against your lips. Then he presses his forehead to yours for a moment and starts to move.

He rocks into you slowly, carefully, trying to establish a rhythm without overwhelming you. Each slow drag makes you crazier. You put your arms around his shoulders, pulling yourself up to kiss him. Once he’s pulled away, Mammon picks up the pace gradually, until his hips are snapping into yours wildly. 

“Mammon!” you shout when he hits your prostate. And he keeps hitting it, with every single thrust. It’s enough to make your legs go numb. “Ah, ah, oh fuck.”

He changes the angle, lifting you by the hips before slamming back into you. The sudden change has you clawing at his shoulder blades. Mammon hisses at the pain, then his hand snakes between the two of you, and he starts to stroke your dick in time with his thrusts. You’re definitely not gonna last. “Mam, Mam,” you pant, “I’m close.”

“I know.” His lips are by your ear and you can feel his warm breath as he says, “Me too.”

He’s finally worked you over the edge. 

“Mammon!” You cry as your vision goes white. Cum paints your stomach, and Mammon’s hand, which doesn’t stop. He only keeps going, stroking you through it while chasing his own high. Your walls spasm around him, making his hips stutter.

With one last thrust, he finishes, muttering a string of curses or praise. You can’t tell which. Then he collapses on top of your heaving chest, each of you struggling to catch your breath.

As each of you comes down from your high, he nuzzles against your neck, muttering something in Infernal. And your hand ends up in his hair again, petting his head. 

“Thanks.” You say, fucked out of your mind.

Mammon laughs as pulls out of you, leaving you too empty again. He flops over onto his side of the bed and laughs again. “Thanks?” He asks, amused.

“I don’t know what to say now!” You exclaim, embarrassed. You watch Mammon walk across the room, to toss the condom in the trash. His body is still shaking with light laughter when he returns with some tissues. He starts to clean up the mess the two of you made, wiping his stomach. Then yours.

“Uh, it was really good?” You start, a bit awkwardly. He finishes what he’s doing, then lies back down beside you, propped up on one arm. 

“It was.” He confirms. You open your mouth again, but close it. “What?” He asks, blue eyes trained on yours.

“I’m glad it was you.” You whisper, suddenly feeling far too bashful considering the event that had just taken place. “A-and, I love you.” You add, slightly louder.

His eyes widen comically before he smiles, “I love ya too.”

Mammon pulls you close to him, then yanks the blankets up around the two of you. And he kisses the side of your head. “More than anythin’.”

#obey me #obey me mammon #mammon x reader #mammon smut #mammon x male reader #mammon x mc #oh lord i'm nervous to post this TwT #aerie.fic #mine #not safe for simeon #nsft

[aromantic-misguide-to-romance]

Obey Me! Mouse AU - brothers

Note: male mice are often very aggressive to each other and should not be kept together unless neutered! Note 2: the rest in part 2.

At first, you only had three mice, but you decided to bring seven new bucks to your Devildom three. How are the seven brothers as mice?

Long post with pictures, under the cut!

Lucifer

I’m going to be mean but he’s getting an average coat, just a short hair mouse, nothing more nothing less

black roan – so basically salt and pepper coat

at first he was extremely alarmed in the new place and was quite hostile to you

calmed down a bit once he realised you’re not something to be nervous about

chases his cagemates a lot, though less than at the beginning

he’s never bitten any of them enough to draw blood, but has made them too stressed at some point and had to be put into mouse jail

his most frequent victim is Mammon

if he’s not busy assisting Diavolo – he, Diavolo and Barbatos are almost inseparable

once Diavolo for some reason was sulking and refused to share the nest with him and Lucifer was the most miserable sight, curled into a lonely ball somewhere else

he’s THAT mouse that charges at your hand viciously but once he’s captured, he just a complete cuddler and wants cheek scratches

but also his fearless charge is the reason why you have to catch him before catching any of his little brothers – he will come to aid if he sees them “threatened”

also if you let him on your shoulder, he will try to groom your hair because obviously humans can’t take care of themselves

 Mammon

was looking for a short hair but this Himalayan texel looks very fluffy

a ball of white wavy fluff with brown paws, tail and snout, quite a small boy

constantly chased by another mouse

that one that you find hanging from the ceiling of the cage, because that’s where Lucy chased him to

hyperactive and too quick for your human eyes – he basically teleports

if the cage looks like complete mess, it’s his fault

also known for stealing the best grains and seeds and running away with them

also tends to steal the fabric and paper scraps from other nests to bring them to his favourite spot

shakes his tail a lot because he’s quite a nervous one but tries to make it seem like it’s better not to mess with him

scaredy mouse

but can be very protective – he once tore a blanket apart when his little brother got stuck and did absolutely charge at the vet who tried to get his little brother out of the transport box and at your hand when you tried to catch his little brother

once he realised it’s you he immediately wanted to cuddle though

he also attempts to shake tail or pounce at everyone who tries to approach you when he’s on your hand or lap

absolute cuddler

  Leviathan

long hair blue, imagine this one but with straight fur:

slim but squishy

the one that gets stuck in places

clumsy one, sometimes just... slides from wherever he climbed on and falls

sometimes climbs somewhere like mice like to do, but then doesn’t know how to get back down because he’s not fit enough

sometimes furiously rearranges a part of the cage for whatever reason

or starts running around and jumping around for no reason, worked up

he usually doesn’t bother with other mice and just minds his own mouse business but does tend to follow if they’re occupied with something he isn’t a part of

very loud if upset – especially if stuck, he will just whine and scream for help

will scream at vets at the mere attempt at bringing a hand close to him – his screeches will be heard even on the street

not a cuddly one so you might miss how much he likes you because he doesn’t seem to particularly like being petted

but you’ll notice that he just sets down on your shoulder or gets under your sweater and will prefer staying on you from the playground – he does like you a lot after all

and if you’re away for a bit time longer, he will dash to you to get on your shoulder

Satan

I was going to look for argente or cream but... this long hair sable marten (but seems rather the light coloured snow variant) is totally him 

a calm type, doesn’t bother with you, usually busy with his own mouse business

doesn’t get worked up… too often

if he does, he does absolutely apeshit – he just randomly goes rampant when his patience at his cagemates runs out... once his rage is over, he will be back to minding his own business

randomly bites if you stop petting him

sometimes when he bites – he holds, keeping eye contact with you... or with the vet who tried to examine him

vets have to use thick gloves to handle him because he will not take any examination calmly

it’s never certain with him if he doesn’t suddenly change his mind and bite out of the blue, docile just a half second earlier

better not approach him when he’s raging around

constantly challenges Lucifer and tries to attack him but gets his butt kicked very quickly

tends to team up with Belphie in attempt to finally get back on Lucifer, but they fail anyway

another one that will show his affection mostly by staying around you or sitting on your shoulder

 Asmodeus

he’s absolutely going to be so extra. I wanted him to be argente but this long hair seal point Siamese Abyssinian (rosette) with the satin shine is so shiny and pretty that it’s clearly Asmo

you barely touched him and he’s already cleaning himself

...that’s a bit insulting

he’s constantly grooming himself and furiously rearranging his fur because apparently that one hair can’t go this way

also tends to be pretty picky about nests and hideaways – he will just keep arranging the cloth or paper scraps for eternity until he’s pleased with the effect

avoids dirty nests like a plague

surprisingly, a cuddly one! Even if he needs to take breaks to groom his fur

also takes breaks to climb onto your shoulder and attempts to groom your hair – or at least as much of it as he can reach

if he manages to groom a streak of hair away and tries to bring it to his nest, he will immediately lose it as Mammon will snatch it from him

he will be so angry at that but he never manages to catch up to Mammon anyway

he will attempt to maintain the coats of the rest so they’re up to his standard. Sometimes they look so tired when he’s not leaving them alone

loves attention so if he notices that he was overlooked by some fur hygiene regimens of his cagemates, he will immediately get between the two mice and demand his fur getting groomed too

 Beelzebub

short hair fawn 

constantly in the food bowl, munching

good luck trying to fill the bowl – he’ll attacc! Don’t you dare taking the food bowl from him!

do not try to disturb his eating in general

other mice already figured out he’s not a good target to tear a tasty grain from his paws

also he’s the one to snatch food from other mice

first to wake up at the sound of the bowl being refilled

thicc mouse

very active, when he’s not eating you’ll find him carrying toys and all types of equipment around or occupying the running wheel so you had to buy another one so other mice can get some exercise too

stops only to check if Belphie’s fur needs grooming

basically inseparable with Belphie

often checks on other mice and tends to mend conflicts between them

very cuddly mouse, will immediately run to snuggle to you and closes his eyes blissfully when petted

that applies to his brothers too – he never chooses an empty hideaway to rest, he always looks for a brother

 Belphegor

merle fox angora – black-and-white with black spots with white belly, imagine this one with a white belly (and preferably wavy coat): 

he’s a calm one and tends to be rather lazy

he takes walks on the running wheel at a very leisurely pace

doesn’t get agitated too much (he did once at you, and he went absolutely apeshit)

basically inseparable with Beel

at the beginning he was very fond of Lucifer, but just as they were adjusting to your place, a very loud squaky fight happened, he spent a lot of time basically sitting in a hideaway just under the roof of the cage – if he tried to get down, Lucifer would chase him back

eventually Lucifer ceased the activity once he stopped being alarmed, but now Belphie hates Lucifer

known to have teamed up with Satan to pounce on Lucifer but never succeeded

can sleep everywhere, which can be… stressful… you think he’s sick or something happened to him, but no, he’s just napping

you also sometimes find him “stuck” but he’s just sleeping in a weird place and gets out with no issue after waking up

Part 2 TBA.

#obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanon #no one's om headcanons

[sorta-adultish-momma]

The First Pact

Paring: Mammon x GN!MC.

Summary: Levi's plan felt a little... what's the word? Scummy. And MC knows what it's like to feel cornered, to feel like the demons are closing in on you just for being yourself. So if they were getting this pact, it'd be on their terms.

Warnings: MC is gender-neutral and AFAB; breasts are mentioned; there is slight gore; demonic aggression; human lives are threatened; Levi lets a little of his pervy side out.

“It’d make him?” the human asked, hand curling just a little bit tighter around the plastic card in their hand. Something about that concept just… didn’t sit well with them. “What exactly does that mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like,” Leviathan exclaimed, practically vibrating in his smug ‘checkmate’ status over his brother. “No matter how much he might wish to resist, he’d be forced to follow his master’s orders. He’d be strung along like a puppet while gathering all the money he owes me. Oh man, this is going to be fantastic!”

MC watched the elder demon before them, supposedly one of the strongest beings in this realm, and watched the resignation bleed into blue eyes. They watched as the line of his shoulders tightened, the tension of waiting for the guillotine to drop. They watched as that same tight line of his shoulders sagged, the heavy weight of anxiety and reservation pulling him down.

Leviathan continued to daydream and ramble, a background noise of exploitation of their pact. A pact that they already feel a territorial defense of, possessiveness of a non-existent claim curling around their heart. They don't want to analyze that, don’t want to introspect on themself, not with Leviathan’s own possessive lilt hanging in the air. So they analyze the fuming demon before them, still supplicating himself on his knees. MC tracks the way blue eyes steadily darken, hardening to sapphires, gold flecks vanishing. MC tracks his own stare, the way he hasn’t taken his eyes off the card in their hands since he spotted it. How even when pleading to Leviathan he never looked away, reminding them of a bird of prey honed in on its next meal. MC tracks how energy is humming in the room, manifesting in twitches and fidgets along his arms, fingers itching to possess, to claim, to hoard.

They don't even realize they've drawn ‘Goldie’ closer until his eyes snap up to meet their own and they find themself drowning in molten gold.

“Why are you letting him manipulate you like this,” the white-haired man growled. The consonants and vowels of his words tumbled past his lips, grating along his throat and his teeth before they fell on their ears. His voice echoed with aggression and disdain, clearly vexed by the events of the evening. Assumedly vexed by them. Yet, he did not take out that hostility on them, despite the ease he could have. It’s not like Leviathan would have stopped him, it’s not like they could’ve stopped him, it’s not like anyone would really mourn them, it’s not like anyone truly thought they'd survive the first week of this fucked up experiment.

And yet, and yet… all Mammon did was glare at them with those glinting, golden eyes.

“You’re the Avatar of Greed, right?” MC asked slowly. They were shifting, glacially, imperceptibly closer to Mammon. It was almost magnetic, his pull, their drawl. There was a subtle desire in the back of their mind that was urging them to continue their analysis just that extra one, two, five inches closer to the primordial being. But they weren't the only one being drawn into an orbit. With every syllable that drips like honey from their lips, there is another shift from the elder demon, another centimeter bringing him closer to the human. MC dimly registers somewhere in the recesses of their head that the draw to him is probably a predatory instinct on his part. They're vaguely aware enough of it enough to question what his excuse is for being drawn to them.

His lips curl in a snarl, something almost defensive tainting the corners of his lips and dripping from his canines. “Yeah, that’s me, the Great Mammon, the Avatar of Greed.”

“Then money’s your thing, right? Excessive material goods, shiny new toys, collecting and hoarding for the sake of just having,” their voice is light and airy, open curiosity apparent in the cadence of their lilting accent. They have captured both of the demons' attention now, Leviathan narrowing his eyes on their retreating figure as they continue their line of questioning. “A never-ending craving, that’s your whole shtick?”

MC finds themself some measly feet away from the older Avatar. Well within striking distance (they are aware that the whole kitchen is ‘striking distance’ for both of them).

“What do you want, human?” The words are poisonous, bright and flashy venom he makes no attempt to disguise. Instinctively, they know their body recognizes a threat and knows their heart is racing as it pumps adrenaline through their system. But they've always been stubborn, and as much as their body wants to survive, they want to make something clear. The need to demonstrate something intrinsic about themself is overwhelming. And if one of the demons in the room kills them because of this, at least they went out on their terms.

They hold the card out to Mammon.

Nobody reaches for it.

So they extend their arm the slightest bit farther, loosening their grip just the slightest bit more. “Here. No strings, no pact necessary.”

The reaction is explosive. Mammon snatches the card from their hand, moving so quickly they are barely able to comprehend the motion. Leviathan screeches, hands slamming the island between him and the human. His form flickers, fraying at the edges as indignation physically coalesces around him. His vitriolic, vermillion eyes were snapping between them and his brother, assessing, calculating, strategizing. They settle on the human.

“What do you think you’re doing?” His voice faintly echoes, like the subtle reverb of waves crashing in a seaside cavern. The words crawl out of a mouth with teeth a little too long to pass as human anymore. It’s intimidating.

MC stares down Leviathan, shoulders rolled back and their chin lifted in proud defiance. It is the same way they stared down that demon that was intent on harassing them on the walk to the dorm this afternoon, thinking he’d found an easy target without a brother by their side. It is the same way they stared down their professor in their Demonology 101 class, attempting to make an example of humanity’s inferiority using them. It is the same way they stared down motherfucking Lucifer Morningstar himself, daring to tell him ‘no’ a mere hour into their new life in the Devildom.

Leviathan might be intimidating, but they have a fucking point to prove.

“I’m not going to manipulate someone into forming a pact with me. End of.”

“You think you have a choice?” His eyes have slitted, claws gouging the countertop. “You think a disgusting normie gets to make decisions? You don’t know your place. When I say ‘fetch’, you fetch. When I say ‘give me that’, you fork it over. When I say ‘wear a maid costume’, you say ‘yes, Master’. When I say ‘drown’, you choke on seawater. And when I tell you to make a pact with Mammon, you make the fucking pact.”

His shadow curls throughout the room, snaking its way around their own. His voice had deepened, the echoing quality magnifying, tidal waves beating against a cliffside. His voice slithered into their mind, coiling around their thoughts and dragging them down. And yet, and yet…

“Get used to disappointment Leviathan,” MC responds. Calm, collected, unfazed.

The Avatar of Envy lunges.

A hand grabs their wrist, nails pricking at the sensitive skin like talons snagging on wool, and the world blurs as they are pulled, yanked, catapulted into a hard chest. A crashing, snarling, howling sound comes from the place they just stood. A hand is placed on their sternum, steadying them along with the arm wrapped so tightly around their waist. MC opens their mouth, ready to protest, to demand, to bite an explanation out of the demon holding them, but that is not what happens.

What happens is MC bites their own tongue, blood pooling, the coppery taste is invasive on their taste buds. Their jaw seizes, clamping down the scream building up. They have too much survival instinct, too much common sense, too much pride. Too much of everything coursing through them to allow themself to show fear in the face of the demon whose fingers have curled into their flesh. His nails - no, his talons - pierce their skin enough to bleed. The blood drips down them, spilling from their wound and from their mouth, painting their torso with it. MC's eyes are wide and panicked, locked on Mammon’s that burn brighter with every rumbling growl that slips past his lips.

Soon it is not just his eyes burning, something shiny catching in their peripheral. They try to look, try to turn their gaze onto something new, but are unable to pull away from the gold pooling behind strands of white hair. Their chest is still bleeding around his claws, but what once was dark, mesmerizing crimson is becoming viscous precious metal. It chugs through their veins, taking time to reach every cell, every atom of their mortal flesh with its molten heat.

Right when they think they’ll have to swallow their pride and whimper a plea of mercy, the gold in their veins rapidly pulls back, collecting and pooling in their left pectoral. Shapes paint themselves in a frenzy in the area directly above their heart, spanning from the bottom of their breast to their collarbone, from their sternum to their underarm. They can not understand them, can not even look at them trapped as they are in the second-eldest’s stare, but they know the gold tattooing itself into their skin, into their muscles and sinew, into their very soul. They know the sigils spell out a claim for every living thing in all the realms that they belong to the Avatar of Greed himself.

Finally, Mammon releases them, hand retracting after a soft pat over the area he’d been carving himself into, eyes drifting down their frame to take in the mark for himself. MC takes a moment to breathe, to recalibrate, to reassess the situation. They notice that they are pressed up against the wall, Mammon’s lanky frame crowding them (shielding them). With his attention diverted, they are able to see Leviathan hovering in the wake of his destruction, considerably calmer but still glaring at them. Though his obvious annoyance is not enough to stop him from trying to see around his brother to see the pact mark for himself.

Speaking of, MC finally has the wherewithal to take a look at the damage done to them, softly gasping at what they see. First, where they know there should be deep gashes from Mammon’s attack on their chest, they find wounds stitching themselves back together, not even leaving behind a scar. Second, the glittering shapes inked into their skin are captivating. The mark is massive, with symbols and glyphs and demonic lettering radiating out from a central focal point. With how low that focal point is in the overarching design of the mark (directly in front of their heart), the overall design reminds them of a rising sun. Mammon is tracing a specific line of letters near the center, and it is absolutely fascinating how there is no raised or irritated skin. It’s almost like a birthmark, an intrinsic part of themself that has always been there, despite its recent origins.

Leviathan’s soul-escaping screech causes them both to finally pull away from their little bubble. Mammon is instantly crowding them again, pressing them behind him as his hackles rise. MC’s guard is up as well, wiggling their way to the white-haired demon’s side so they can assess any threats for themself. They place a reassuring hand on Mammon’s arm, and something flares up deep within their soul in response.

Leviathan goes even redder once he can fully see MC, slamming his hands over his eyes and dropping into a crouch, curling in on himself until he closer resembles a steaming ball more than an ancient cosmic entity. They cut a glance to Mammon, who has marginally relaxed by now and offers them a classic ‘I’ve got no clue’ shrug. They do not have to wait long for Leviathan to inform them of what exactly was wrong.

“PUT YOUR 3D TIT AWAY!”

MC blinks. They look at Mammon. Mammon blinks. They both look down at MC's chest. Sure as shit, their already baggy and loose shirt was yanked down far enough on their left side that their whole left boob was just… out. One of them must have moved the shirt aside to investigate the mark better. They look back at Mammon. Mammon begins blushing so hard they can feel the heat simmering off of him from here.

Casually, MC fixes their shirt.

“Thanks, by the way”. They were addressing Mammon specifically, but they spoke to the room at large, considering both of the high and mighty demons had turned into blushing maidens and were studiously avoiding looking in their direction. The same powerful demons, mind you, that were just willing to show off their dark prowess and skills to intimidate the human in the room not even thirty or so minutes ago. Yeah, those demons. They continued despite no visual acknowledgment. “You absolutely did not have to do that, but I appreciate it nonetheless.”

Mammon glanced at them, mustering up some of his usual bravado. “Yeah, well, you better be grateful, human. Not every day the Great Mammon deems a mortal worthy of his pact.”

“You made a pact with a witch two months ago for 2,000 grimm.”

“OI!”

The brothers began fighting, wrestling with the intent to pester, not harm, and MC watched. A fond smile found its way onto their face, a warmth suffusing through their system at the chaos of the kitchen. Absent-mindedly, they rubbed their new mark, thinking over the events that just transpired.

What Leviathan had just said, about the witch, something about it stuck with them. Sure, it was a comment meant to showcase what Mammon is willing to sell his pact for, and how frequently those exchanges seem to happen. But… why form a pact with them then? He didn’t take anything from them, they were pretty sure they would feel a claim on their very soul, and it still felt like it belonged to themself. Hmmm, puzzling no doubt, but they were content to let the man keep his secrets.

Be grateful, human.

That’s an order from their demon they think they can follow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A never-ending craving, that’s your whole schtick?

No strings, no pact necessary.

I’m not going to manipulate someone into forming a pact with me. End of.

Hours later, those words are still rattling around in his head. It was damn annoying, constantly thinking about what happened in the House of Lamentation kitchen last night. He didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to think about how their words had dripped like honey through his veins, didn’t want to think about how something deep in him snarled at the idea of Levi hurting them, didn’t want to think about how his soul felt like it settled when his power melted their blood.

If he had thought about it in the moment, he could have argued away his brothers’ taunts at the breakfast table this morning. For every claim of ‘now you’re really stuck with them,’ he’d argue that he could do his job of babysitter better. And he could, hell with the pact he could do his job (or punishment depending on who’s asking) more efficiently through the pact. He’s supposed to protect them, and now he can locate them at a moment’s notice with just a little tug on the ephemeral string tying them together. Honestly, Lucifer should be praising him for taking this assignment so seriously.

He didn’t want to think about how he hadn’t been thinking about it in the moment. He didn’t want to think about how he was running on instinct when he sank his claws into their flesh and began the spell that bound them to him and him to them. He didn’t want to think about how he just gave away his pact, without taking a single thing from them in exchange.

“MC, sweetie, you’re going to rub your skin raw if you keep at it,” Asmo said, jolting both the human and demon out of their thoughts. Mammon glanced over and pointedly ignored the flush building on his face. It’s not like seeing them tracing the letters spelling out his name did anything for him.

He isn’t going to think about the voice in the back of his head purring at the sight. He isn’t going to think about how his sin curls around the pact bound in his soul and whispers ‘mine’.

No, for now, Mammon is just going to take his human by the hand and drag them to R.A.D. He’ll save all that thinking for later.

#shall we date obey me #obey me x mc #obey me mammon x mc #I am going to pry a consensual pact with mammon out of obey me devs cold dead hands I swear to diavolo

[ludicix]

Don't let go

*Pairing: Mammon x Gn!reader

*Warnings: non, Just fluff:)

A/N: Hi, I'm ludicix, a 17 year on Caribbean writer who would like to begin posting their writing. I am open to constructive criticism as long as your respectful. I'm aware my writing isn't amazing but that isn't and open door for you to walk through and be mean. With that being said i hope you enjoy:)

This is the exact same reason Lucifer doesn’t want us to sleep together. We both know it's time to get out of bed but both lack the will to. This is one of the only times we get to be intimate without the interruption of someone else so both mammon and I try to make it last as long as possible.

He isn’t much bigger than I am but his body heat consumes me every time we cuddle. He is almost on top of me with his arms holding us together keeping space to a minimum. His face nestled into my neck while the blankets binds my comfy prison. 

“We.Are.Fuck” I mumbled against his hair wrapping my arms around his neck trying to ignore the situation. All he does is release a hum in response and tighten his arms around my torso. Clearly not caring about the repercussions of our late morning, more so evening, snuggles. He is such a baby when we sleep together. There is no such thing as personal space when we sleep together. He craves gentle touches and being babied so being the 2nd oldest and the victim of constant bullying such things don’t come as often if ever. 

“Mammon baby we gotta get up,” I say trying to wiggle free. The only thing that's keeping us from starting the day is each other so we need to split. The strength of a god is harnessed by him as he locks his arms not wanting to let the fuck go. We are about to get the scolding of our lives well I am at least.

“Stop,” he says plainly

“Mammon we are late for school! I missed most of my classes, missed breakfast and Lucifer is going to crucify us”

“There you go with the godly stuff” he mumbles while rubbing his eyes. He finally lets go. It's kind of scary to feel how cold the room actually is compared to how warm Mammon was all night, but I'm not complaining at all.

“So what’s the plan,” He says through a yawn sitting up.

“What do you mean plan?”

“You know the plan to face Lucifer,” Oh,-- right—that

This isn’t the first time this happened and that's both a good thing and a bad thing. A good thing cus we know what to expect but a bad thing cus we know to expect worse than what was done before.

“Last time we were banned from each other’s rooms for 3 weeks, don’t think I could make it through that kind of torture again. This is the only time we get to have alone,” He frustratedly and dramatically plops back down on his pillow. As he just laid there I was captured by how incredibly stunning he looked first thing in the morning. To anyone else, they would say he looked like a mess but, my god right now, to me, he looks worthy of worship. His white silk soft hair is a mess and has gotten a little long with the strands at the back of his head touching his shoulder. His dark-toned skin reflected the warm lights of his room and his lack of clothes only added to how delicious he looked. His deep blue eyes that only look at me with nothing but love seem too brilliant for someone who just got up. To imagine I have all this to myself is like a blessing beyond comprehension.  

“Well, you know what they say if you eat the poison might as well lick the plate” I rest my head on his chest and get back under his duvets forgetting why I wanted to leave in the first place. His instant reaction was to hold me and now it seems like we are back at stage one. “Are you sure my love, I know you really care about yur school stuff, I wouldn’t wanna-”

“Shut up you’re too sexy to be talking that nonsense” With that we both relax back into each other’s embrace. His warmth cocoons me and carries me back into a peaceful sleep.

***

“Well this is what you both have been up to all morning”

Before I can react I am tugged under someone as if they were trying to shield me. To open my eyes to see mammon as expected but at the foot of the bed is the reason why he was in such distress, Lucifer.

“Care to explain-”

“It was my fault Lucifer I was the reason we stayed up so late and missed breakfast and school-”

With all the strength I can muster I slap mammon upside the head while pushing myself to get up“I’m not a baby I can accept the responsibilities of my own actions.”

“So you can now,” Lucifer says with he sinister grin. Well, I guess I die young. It was a nice ride I guess.

“Luci listen it was a mistake that we don’t make often ok I swear it won’t happen again  mammon and I will get the notes we missed and start our work pronto and we’ll cook dinner just please have merc-”

“Wow slow down,” He raises his arms out in front of him.

“You're not in trouble relax you don’t have to cook dinner and you don’t have to do work ‘pronto’” He says mocking my human lingo. I look at mammon who is already looking at me with the exact same look. What.The.Fuck

Lucifer, noticing our confusion, clarified “You both know today is Sunday, right?”

Another A/N: didn't really like this one but we all start somewhere. Hope you enjoyed it.

much luv

Ludicix

#obey me #fluff #flufftober2022 #om x reader #obey me x y/n #obey me mc #mammon x reader #mammon x y/n #mammon x you #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me fluff #the great mammon #mammon fluff #obey me x gender neutral reader

[2af-afterdark]

WHB:

How would you rate each one’s outfits?

Completely honest, unbiased opinion based on nothing but my gut reaction? Can do!

Satan

8/10

I kind of adore his boiler suit (is that what it's called?) Like, unironically, I love it. His entire army wears high fashion and he's dressed like he's going to his blue collar job.

Is it because of all the blood? Does he just own 200 sets of this one outfit so he can toss them instead of washing them?

Mammon

8/10

MAN KNOWS HOW TO LET HIS TIDDIES HANG OUT

He is inviting you to bury your face right in there and I accept

Beelzebub

6/10

A whore! Look at him! He is a whore and he owns every moment of it!

I appreciate that he's living his best life.

Leviathan

9/10

I love him... but his outfit is so generic compared to everyone else. It's fitting for his realm and their gentlemanly nature, but it doesn't really stand out.

But I am biased so he gets extra points for that.

Sitri

7/10

What a gentleman, but there's nothing very unique that sense it apart from the rest of the uniform.

Leraye

2/10

Ditch the teddy bears. Please. I hate them.

Love the monocle so much though.

Astaroth

10/10

The snake seals the deal. The snake bites are a nice touch. Fuck I am weak to simple things.

Paimon

7/10

SLAY!

He dresses better than I do and he makes it work. Like, damn. He knows exactly what to do.

Still not my thing though.

Zagan

6/10

Bunny? Bunny boy. I am soft for him.

He's kind of dull though.

Dantalian

0/10

No.

Anything education themed makes me uncomfortable as fuck.

Phenix

9/10

Go off king!

He's living his best life.

Morax

2/10

No. Too many bandages. And blood. And... not enough of anything else.

Not here for it.

Marbas

7/10

I love and hate it. He's just so broad at the top and thinner at the bottom that it kind of throws me off.

On the other hand... bandages hot and he's bursting out of his clothes. Seeing him tied up is also pretty hot.

I think I'm bias because I saw his chibi first and did NOT image he would look like that.

Barbatos

7/10

He's so pretty. Everything about him is so pretty. He's just... not my type?

Like, his outfit is well put together (the rope may be a bit much), black and red are always a good color duo, his eyes aren't distracting dissimilar. But something about it just doesn't work for me.

I do love a good rose motif.

Foras

8/10

LOVE IT! It's the same outfit as Barbatos, but something about Foras is just more appealing. I think it's the weird tear streak tattoos or his horns, but I fucking love it!

Bimet

8/10

I love everything except the money in his hair.

Love his chest on full display and his black and gold colors.

Also his skulls are cool af! I always loved the money in the eyes. It gives me a sort of Charon vibe and I am all for it!

Bael

7/10

He's so simple, but I love him.

Unfortunately, the Avisos outfit just isn't my jam. At least his is a little different with the writing.

Stolas

6/10

See Bael

Amon

6/10

See Bael

Minhyeok

5/10

Not good, not bad. Just generic.

Gabriel

8/10

I am weak to angels. All white and pretty as fuck.

I want to tie him up so bad and get his clothes dirty.

Eligos

9/10

Baby boy, you are so fucking pretty.

I love your robe and your pretty bows.

Gusion

0/10

No.

See Dantalian

Bathin

6/10

He loses points because he lost some moons from his prototype and I wanted them.

Love his earrings though. I want them.

Solomon

12/10

No critiques. He wins.

#❖ nonie #love letters ❤️ #talkin' whb #You would be amazed how much I debated some of these

[leifkncries]

MAMMON'S HUMAN AU 3

i completed this a while before, but i was hesitant to post it since it didn't have much. (if anyone wants to write their own version of this, you're free to do so! just add some credit hehe)

finally, motivation- *it gets snatched*

also i tried to make levi more smug in this chapter? idk why

also marco/mammon's love language is definitely giving/receiving gifts you cannot tell me anything other than that

also should i joke about how i removed most of the drama and actually good plot from the game to just create some 'them being brothers' moments L M F A O

-

Marco yelped as his younger brother glided across the hallway, into his room. 'Man, what the fuck is goin' on?!' Marco mentally sobbed in his mind, widened blue eyes showing panic and uneasiness. "I just wanna talk about anime, you know?" Leviathan had a smile on his face. 'I.. somehow don't believe that.' He thought, a drip of sweat falling from his forehead.

It wasn't like it was hot, it was just anime logic.

"Why do ya wanna talk to someone about anime, eh?" Marco asked, troubled. "Uh, I'm an otaku, duh." Levi rolled his eyes and scoffed, and finally they reached the room. "I have the coolest room here, so you better be fawning over the room! You should be proud that I would let a human in here! The only reason you're here is because you aren't a normie!" Levi rambled, huffing his chest in pride.

"Eh? Understood, I guess." Marco shook his own hand, furrowing his brows at the tight grip of the purple haired demon. "Well," Levi held a smug look. "You better appreciate it. It's been too long since you've been here, after all." His gaze softened, and He muttered the last part to make sure Marco didn't hear it.

Leviathan slammed-opened the door, revealing the bright lights. He grinned brightly, it did look good for his brother! "I'm gonna tell you the lore of every anime!" Levi exclaimed, excited. "Uhhhhh." Marco felt like He was about to die. His eyes darted across the room, observing the furniture placed in the room.

"Is that a goldfish?" Marco asked, looking at the happily swimming creature in the fishbowl. "That's Henry 2.0! He's named after my favourite protagonist! He's from TSL or The Tale Of The Seven Lords!" Leviathan gushed, starry eyed. '2.0? What the hell happened to the first one?' Marco shivered, the possibilities endless. (most of them are associated with murder)

"Oh right, TSL!" Levi's eyes widened, and blush coated his cheeks (passion for TSL). "Do you know TSL?" He inquired. "No, I was close to reading it, though." Marco answered truthfully. "You've been wasting your time… Oh well, I'll tell you all about it, consider it an honor! TSL is about.." Leviathan began his storytelling. Marco scrunched his nose. This'll be a long day.

-

||timeskip to the next damn day||

-

Two students were currently whispering and talking to each other. "Hey, dude. Look at him, He's the human everyone's been talking about. Doesn't He kind of look like Lord Mammon?" A pursed their lips, staring at Marco. "Oh Diavolo, He really does. If we eat him, will we get punished?" B joked, a sly smirk on his face.

Marco froze. 'Demons n humans.. Demons kill humans.. Fuck!' Sweat dripped down from his forehead as He took a run for it. 'I forgot about the relationship between humans and demons cause they weren't acting hostile to me! I searched up on Demon Chrome about Mammon. He… didn't have the best reputation.' He narrowed his eyes, scoffing. 'Wonder why it makes me sour..' He sighed.

"Hey, you there." A light voice interrupted his train of thought. "That's right, I'm talking to you, the human with that frightened, tormented look on your face that demons love sooo much." He curtly smiled. 'Damn, who hurt 'em? Whatever, this guy looks like a medicine dealer.' Marco insulted in his thoughts.

i give up on trying to do the actual storyline. fuck it, i'm gonna do things the non sensible way

"Do you want demons to come and eat you? Take it easy, won't you?" The white haired man chuckled. "I'm guessing you're the human 'Marco', hm? Your DDD fell out and I have it." His lips curled into a smile. 'I didn't feel my DDD fall out. Are you sure you ain't a mercury dealer or a thief?' Marco huffed. "Thanks or whatever, yeah I'm Marco." The other white haired man replied.

(mercury is a reference to mercury drug, a store in my area)

"Anyways, who're you and how d'ya know my name? Am I famous or somethin?" Marco joked a bit, but still held his ground. The other white haired man's lips parted, but He recovered his sly smile pretty quickly. "Don't you know? Anyone could be a celebrity at RAD if they're a human exchange student. You have Leviathan as your guardian, and people say that you have already gained the favour of all the Demon Lords. Seeing as you look like him, I guess I believe it now." He chuckled lightly, amused.

"Oh, right. Here's your phone." The man pursed his lips and gave Marco his phone. "I'm Solomon, 'also' a human." Solomon introduced himself politely, waving his hand. 'Wait… heh?!' Marco's jaw dropped, stilling. "Oh? Did I not seem to be a human like you? Well, that's a little offensive." Solomon sighed, a dismissive expression on his face.

"Whatever, most people don't believe I'm a human as well. I've secured a pact with… a certain amount of demons." Solomon's smile wavered as He whispered that last part. The bell suddenly rang, indicating that you should probably head over to class. "Oh, it seems our meeting was cut short." Solomon perked up at the sound.

"Well, I wish you the best, Mammon Morningstar." He smirked, leaving Marco alone, confused. "Weird ass mother fucker.." Marco shivered. 'Whateva', I need to go to class.' He tutted and sighed, but started to walk to class. If He's honest, Marco felt as if He never went to actual human school. He has vague memories, but it's as if He.. just wasn't that person.

It's like this body was possessed by another soul, before it was handed over to him.

Like magic, twirling around his brain trying its best to take over the conscious state of mind, trying to make him believe He was crazy for thinking that way.

But well, magic can't overpower a demon lord.

The spell didn't work, but there were still bits of magic that managed to come in and succeed with little parts of his brain.

It was…. unnecessarily weird. And confusing.

"Ah.. Marco?" A ravenette interrupted the short monologue. "Eh?" Marco perked up, looking at the black haired demon. "Ah it's…. me, Lucifer." He pursed his lips as He stared at the white haired man. "I see, you were talking with Solomon?" His gaze hardened. A shiver went up Marco's spine. Jeez, the devildom is terrifying.

"You.. shouldn't talk with him. He may seem harmless at first, but He has a ring that's imbued with magic. He has secured a pact with many demons. He's dangerous. Don't interact with him. I'm sure that Lord Diavolo would think it's pleasant that you survived the first day, I suppose." Lucifer coughed and looked away, narrowing his eyes.

'He reminds me of a tsundere…' Marco grimaced, but scoffed as He registered what the demon said. "The only reason I survived was 'cause Levi wouldn't let me escape his damned room. He even brought dinner up to his room! He nearly forced me t'a sleep in his room as well!" He let a groan escape his mouth. It was tiring.

Lucifer glanced at Marco, and a sigh was let out of his throat. "Leviathan.. That idiot." A tic mark appeared on his forehead. "I apologize for his behavior. He's.. excited, that's all." He narrowed his eyes as He uttered that sentence. He was clearly annoyed.

"Eh?" He blinked in surprise. 'Wasn't He the Avatar of Pride? He shouldn't be givin' up his pride like this..' He raised a brow. "Uh.. sure, all's good I guess." He sweatdropped, walking away from the demon lord. "Ah..!" Lucifer's eyes widened, as if noticing something. "Hm?" Marco hummed. "N-nevermind, Get to class." Lucifer commanded.

"Aye aye." He mimicked a pirate and walked away, confused with what the fuck was going on here.

Lucifer sighed, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a black credit card. "I wonder… Would He like it?" He asked himself, before putting it back into his pocket. He should go head over to Lord Diavolo, there were some reports He had to deliver to him.

'Would He really like it? It seems like his Greed has been wiped from him. In fact, it seems as if his virtue (charity) has come back. But I can't judge immediately, as we've just met each other once again. Wait, why am I even thinking that this human is Mammon? The chances of him being here would be.. nearly impossible. Unless someone is pulling the strings, It couldn't happen.' Lucifer thought in his mind.

How troubling. Does this idiot not know that Lord Diavolo and Barbatos have planned this ever since the beginning? After Mammon got transmigrated into a shut-in called Marco… Oh wait, I can't just spoil what happened. Go read the old planning for the Mammon Human AU (on tumblr. this is here because i posted this on ao3 as well) if you wanna theorize.

goes into hibernation

#obey me #obey me mammon #obey me human mammon #the great mammon #human au #human mammon #human mammon au #au #alternate universe #human #om mammon #om leviathan #om lucifer #om solomon #om #omswd #short #short story #short scenario #why do tags exist #why are tags so hard #why are there so many tags #tell me why

[peach-cream-enmu-archive]

Reader is plus size. Always

OK BUT THE READER GETTING HIT WITH A CURSE FROM SOME MAGIC ITEM AND TAKING ON TRAITS OF THE DEMON BROTHERS

Pretty plumage of a peacock that Lucifer can’t seem to look away from, a purple, blue, and green shine in your eyes when you turn your head. They ruffle a bit, flustered, as he comes up behind you and holds the plush of your sides and wraps his arms around your body

White and black feathers showing up in your hair a lot making you shake your head (like birds do their feathers) and long black nails Mammon wants threading through his hair.

Gorgeous orange scales around your eyes and cheeks, on your shoulders, your ribs, your hips. How they disperse a bit when you sit and the weight of your thighs pillow, he’s enamor with it. Levi keeps staring, and when your slit pupils relax and widen when you look at him? His hearts beating so fast.

Your hairs grown a bit longer, now with strands matching Satan’s bright blonde, markings on your leg, winding down like his tails does his own. Maybe even a soft tail that he can’t help but play with. Later, when you take your shirt off, you notice how you glow in the dark of your room, ribs visible and bright.

Sharp fangs and pointed nails, a bleeding heart on your cheek that Asmodeus can’t help but kiss. You have a sweet, enticing scent that grabs everyone’s attention. A stout little scorpion tail, nestled right above your butt. He strokes the base of it gently and watches how it riles you up, squirming in his arms.

Cute fluttering bug wings on your back, beels neck and chest markings taking their place on your ribs and upper thighs. A greenish blue shine to your skin, like the skin of a fly. Your appetite grows, but nothing is appetizing. Unless Beel is eating it, or reaching for it. Then you ask if he can share.

Cute horns, big cow ears, a cute tail! Belphies splotch type markings on your lower back and outer thigh. If someone could scratch between your horns you’d really appreciate that…You seem to be more tired than usual, you and Belphie often found in a sleeping pile during the duration of the curse.

Do we know if Diavolo and barbatos have symbolic animals? If so let me know I can do them too!

Im getting not so canon here now

OOOOHHHHH AND MAYBE EVEN THE ANGELS

Your hair gets curly, coils grow tighter, straight a hair gets a little wavy, maybe even just frizzy, little ears, and a pink/black tinted nose. Simeon doesn’t mean to stare but he points out your little sheep tail!

Cute dog ears that stick up tall, a curled tail that wags when you don’t want it to. Your temper is a bit shorter too, time to get teased by everyone. Luke notes that you hang around the kitchen while bakes…

#cream om #sugar coated cream #me: ok can we work on some wips please? brain: how about some what ifs? that’s what you’re getting

[h3sp3ria]

First Meeting

Mammon x Raven

495 words

This was the most exclusive party of the year, in the fashion industry.  Only 300 of the most desired designers and models were invited. A group of young girls were sitting in a corner of the bar, celebrating a birthday.

“How does it feel to be 21, Star?!” One of the girls asked.

“Great!!! And not just cause I’m high!” The birthday girl responded. The girl was dressed the most extravagantly out of the rest, a shiny gold sash adorning her chest, with the words ‘BIRTHDAY GIRL’ printed in a reflective white. She had thick, long, red hair, tied up in high pigtails, held in place by gold ribbons matching her sash. Due to her best friend's insistence, she wore a gold tiara with hearts. Her dress was completely white and rather simple, it had no back and reached just below her thighs.

“Okay! I, I’m gonna go to the bathroom!” The redhead announced, standing up, stumbling a bit on her way to the bathroom, her friends responding with differing volumes but the same words. 

She walked through the crowd, making her way to the bathroom. When she went to the bathroom, the atmosphere instantly changed. From loud music and flashing party lights, to muffled music and low lighting. 

She walked out the bathroom 10 minutes later in her shiny white heels. Slowly walking, looking around, slightly swaying to the music. She stopped at the bar, she took a seat, “Can I get, uh, a Long Island iced tea?” 

The bartender nodded in response and began mixing her drink.

“Hey there.” A man with snow-white hair, dark skin, and blue eyes with little golden flecks, said. “Hey…” She said in response, sending him a soft smile. 

“I’m Mammon,” He said, flashing her a grin. “Raven. Raven Morningstar Grimm. Nice to meet you, Mammon.”

She grabbed her drink, and quickly glanced at her friends. “Let’s talk. So who is this Mammon?”

“Hmm, let’s see, I’m a model-”

“Obviously, I mean with that face, you’ve gotta be a model.” Raven said, slightly flirting. 

“Well, are you a model? You’re just as pretty as me, so who do you model for?” The girl thought before answering, “I like to model here and there, but I’m mostly a designer. And I’d love to design for you.” She said with a smile. The two talked for about 15 minutes, before a blonde walked up to the pair.

“Star! You’ve been gone for so long!” The blonde said, putting her arm on her friend, to steady herself.

Raven stood up, holding the friend, “Ok, Ok, I’m coming back now.” She turned to Mammon, “Look I’ve got to go now, but uh…” She paused, taking a slip of paper out of her purse. She scribbled something down, before handing it to him, “Here. This is my number,” just before he grabbed it she moved it away, “Use it.”

“Promise.” He said, snatching the paper, before she walked away with her blonde friend.



masterlist

#obey me #mammon fluff #the great mammon #mammonobeyme #mammon x oc #mammonxraven