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fickleminder · 1 year

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Karasu’s Confession Corner

Seeing Karasu, one of Mammon’s crow familiars, at your windowsill isn’t an uncommon occurrence. He likes to stop by sometimes to hang out with you, but today he’s acting oddly for some reason…

Written for the OM Secret Santa 2022 event @omsecretsanta2022. Features Mammon x GN!MC.

Happy holidays @kydrogendragon! Your first idea reminded me of this fic so I hope you don’t mind that I wrote the second one instead. Please enjoy :)

Thank Diavolo It’s Friday.

It’s been another long week at RAD, filled with pop quizzes and reading assignments and helping out with student council duties, and all you want to do is take a page from Belphie’s book and sleep the entire weekend away. Satan is the one to walk you home today, and he must have noticed how tired you are because he doesn’t even bother trying to steer you towards a cat cafe on the way back.

Once the two of you return to the House of Lamentation, you thank him for his company and make a beeline for the safety of your room. Trudging inside, you barely muster the energy to change into more comfortable clothing before flopping onto your bed in an exhausted sprawl.

You almost miss the soft rustle coming from the direction of your clothes rack. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice something slipping out of your uniform pocket and fluttering to the ground. Tilting your head slightly to get a better look, you sigh at the tiny piece of paper staring back at you.

It’s a voucher for this boba tea cafe that Asmo had introduced you to several months ago. Levi had gotten it for free with one of his recent Akuzon purchases, and gifted it to you in exchange for helping him queue for some exclusive merch. The cafe had been growing in popularity with RAD students lately, and you were hoping to invite Mammon out after school today to redeem a one-for-one drink from their special menu.

Unfortunately, Mammon said he had “errands” to run (which you knew meant the witches were after his ass again) and quickly ran off after the last bell, leaving his younger brother to escort you home. Watching Mammon rush out of the school gates as though Cerberus was hot on his heels sent a pang of regret through you, for taking so long to gather the courage to ask him out, especially given that the voucher expired the next day.

You sigh again. Your guardian definitely had a nasty habit of always getting himself into trouble, that silly, lovable demon.

Lovable… Your cheeks warm at the thought. But not all hope is lost, and you can still salvage this situation yet. Maybe you could go with him after dinner? It’s the weekend tomorrow, so surely Lucifer wouldn’t mind letting the two of you stay out a little longer tonight. If Mammon even comes back by then, you think gloomily. If he’s dealing with the witches, he’s usually gone for a few days…

Something raps at your window, the sharp sounds abruptly jolting you from your reverie. You sit up to see a large black crow perched on the sill, cawing loudly at you from the other side of the glass pane, begging to be let in. You recognize him right away; it’s not the first time one of Mammon’s familiars has stopped by to visit, and you’re actually glad for his presence right now.

“Hey Karasu, it’s been a while!” Feeling a little more energized now, you give the bird a bright smile as you lift open the window. “What are you doing here? Sol told me your chicks hatched the other day, so shouldn’t you be with your mate taking care of them?”

Karasu cocks his head to the side, looking somewhat confused. But he seems insistent on coming in, and, well, who were you to deny the adorable little thing?

“Are you hungry? I still have some of your favorite peanuts left.” You pull open your desk drawer and rummage around for one of the leftover sachets. Karasu waits patiently as you tear it open and pour it out neatly at his feet. “Go on, eat up!”

He appears hesitant at first, but opens up obediently when you pick up a piece and nudge it at his beak. Soon enough, he’s happily vacuuming up the entire pile peck by peck.

“There’s nothing like human world peanuts, am I right?” You laugh at the sight of the crow greedily going at his snack like a woodpecker, and toss the empty package into the trash can. “I don’t have much left, but I’ll be sure to pick up more the next time I go back to visit. Don’t tell Beel, okay?”

You stroke Karasu’s feathers when he’s done eating and giggle as he puffs up in response to your gentle touch. Spending time with animals really never fails to improve your mood. No wonder Satan’s always seeking out cats to hang out with.

“Such a good bird,” you coo. “Your mate’s so lucky to have you.”

Again, at the mention of a mate, Karasu appears startled. He can’t seem to look you in the eye, and his gaze darts everywhere but at your face. It eventually lands on the shiny, laminated coupon on the floor, and he lets out a questioning caw.

“Oh, this? It’s just a voucher for a drink.” You walk over and pick it up with a small huff of disappointment. “I wanted to invite Mammon out to redeem it today, but he already had other plans.”

Karasu perks up at the mention of his master. You start to feel a little bad for talking about Mammon behind his back, to one of his trusted familiars no less, but you can’t help the words spilling out anymore. Just being able to tell someone about this is cathartic, even if you are venting to a crow.

“It’s a one-for-one voucher for drinks at Spoopy’s, and it was going to be my treat so he wouldn’t have to spend a Grimm. It makes me happy when he takes me out and buys me stuff, even if he denies it, so I wanted to return the favor. I want to make him feel as special as he makes me feel.

Sometimes I think Mammon’s brothers are a little too harsh on him. Everybody makes mistakes, and it’s not fair that he gets disciplined the most for succumbing to his greed. I can’t say I know what it’s like, but being an Avatar of Sin mustn’t be easy.”

Your heart aches as you give Karasu a sad look, because it’s true. Mammon’s always the butt of his brothers’ jokes, always taking the brunt of Lucifer’s harshest punishments. And yet, he never stops smiling, never stops looking out for his family because he loves them so much despite how badly they treat him sometimes. Plus, tsundere attitude aside, he’s only ever been kind to you after you had first been teleported to the Devildom. Knowing all of this, how could you not fall for him?

“If I can make him happy, even just for a little while, it’ll be worth it,” you whisper, seemingly to yourself. “That’s what you do for someone you love, isn’t it?”

Karasu gives a loud caw, snapping you out of your depressive thoughts. You think he must be pitying the lovelorn expression on your face, because he hops closer to nuzzle your jaw with his beak, just below the corner of your lips.

“Aww… Thanks for trying to cheer me up, Karasu. You’re so sweet!” You pet the crow on his head, smiling softly. He really is such a good bird. “I wouldn’t want your mate to come after me, so I’ll give you this instead.”

You put your middle and index fingers together on one hand and kiss the tips, and then you press them to Karasu’s beak.

A sudden burst of light blinds you, sending you reeling backwards with a startled yelp. Something— someone— reaches out to steady you, their arms around your waist and shoulders, preventing you from toppling over and hitting your head. When the brightness finally fades, you blink the spots in your vision away only to see…

“Mammon?!” You splutter in shock. “What— How did—”

“I can’t believe one of my familiars has been cozying up to ya,” the white-haired demon grumbles, still holding you in a dip pose as though the two of you had been dancing together at one of Diavolo’s fancy balls. “Gonna have words with that bird, I swear—”

“Mammon! How are you here?” You push lightly at his chest, trying to stand up properly. Your face is burning from the sinking realization that you just confessed your feelings to a crow that had actually been the object of your affections all along holy shit—

“It ain’t my fault, it was those damn witches and their nasty curses! More importantly, don’t ya go giving your kisses to anyone else but me, ya hear?” Mammon demands, his face equally flushed. He helps you up gently, and a distant part of your brain notices that he doesn’t let go of your hand. “Forget dinner with my brothers; I’m taking ya out, and then we can go grab some boba tea later! How’s that sound, huh?”

With the sheer amount of hope and excitement swelling in your chest, you have to remind yourself to breathe. “That sounds perfect,” you manage, your cheeks starting to hurt from how wide you’re smiling.

Mammon pulls you into a tight hug, one you don’t hesitate to reciprocate. You know he’s trying to hide, too embarrassed to face you directly, but his next words tell you all you need to know.

“Love ya too, treasure,” he whispers in your ear, and your heart soars.

#writing #obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me mammon #omsecretsanta22

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messysketchyobeyme · 1 year

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A Minor Lapse

Lucifer/Reader

Summary: What's a better excuse to take a break from work than an impromptu movie night with the love of your life?

A/N: This was written for @lavenderafterglow for the OM Secret Santa event by @omsecretsanta2022. This was fun :) Happy holidays!

By the way, MC was written with She/Her pronouns in mind! However, this fic was written in such a way that I happened to not use any gendered language to refer to the MC. Oops. Anyway, I just thought this might be something to keep in mind if someone other than the person I am gifting this fic to wants to read it.

Word Count: 3135

AO3 Link: [Here]

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Lucifer prided himself on rarely making mistakes. His actions were cold, calculated, and made in the best interest of his brothers. Aside from a few notable exceptions, the important decisions in his life were made devoid of emotion. That was, until you came along, and flipped his entire world–and sense of self–upside down.

Falling in love with you was a mistake, but it was one of the few that Lucifer was glad to have made. He sat at one end of the couch with you curled up into his side. Your eyes were glued to the television, fixated on the black-and-white movie playing on the screen. Although Lucifer was the one who suggested the movie in the first place, he could hardly pay attention to it with you so near. He drank in your features. Even in the dark, he could make out the way your eyes lit up at every dramatic twist or how your lips would curve up at the jokes.

The movie was a Devildom cult classic that he and Diavolo would enjoy with a glass of wine during their younger years. It had been so long since then that Lucifer found he could hardly remember any of the plot or the characters. However, he wouldn’t dare to forget the set design with its elaborate outdoor scenes lined with hellish fauna or extravagant palace decorations. Despite the lack of color, the set glittered and gleamed with each shot. It was no wonder you were so mesmerized.

An imaginary weight dragged Lucifer’s eyelids down, so he reached toward the side table and grabbed the cup of coffee that you had specially brewed for him in his favorite mug. According to you, it served as an apology for dragging him away from his work. Lucifer suggested the movie, but you were the one who forced him to take a break in the first place. You were so insistent with your sweet words and pleading eyes that he couldn’t help but agree to pause his student council duties for a few hours to spend some time with his beloved.

He didn’t need, nor want any sort of apology. Lucifer was more than willing to throw any task away at your bidding, but he had accepted your coffee graciously. He needed the caffeine to prevent him from conking out in the middle of the movie. Lucifer took a long sip and immediately winced at the bitter taste. He normally enjoyed his coffee as bitter as possible, but this was a little too much, even for him.

Ah, it was hell coffee. He should have known. He drank some more, allowing the bitterness to overwhelm his senses.

You had only served him hell coffee once before you had started dating him. It was purely by accident, but the drink was as bitter now as it was back then, maybe even more so. Lucifer’s body warmed up as he traced the thinnest of cracks etched along the side of the mug.

He wondered if you had brewed him hell coffee on purpose this time as a way to show your feelings. He set the cup back on the side table and glanced over at you. There was no knowing smirk or mischievous eyebrow raise evident anywhere on your face. Instead, you continued to watch the movie with an earnest grin, blissfully unaware of his longing gaze.

His arm was lazily draped around your shoulders, but there was a sliver of space between the two of you. That sliver could have easily been miles for what he was concerned about.

You tucked your hands underneath your underarms and leaned into the crook in his arm. After a minute, you repositioned yourself, and, after another minute, you did it again. You were trying to be discreet about it, but Lucifer could feel you shiver from a mile away. He silently pulled you closer to him.

For the first time since the movie started, you tore your eyes from the screen to smile sheepishly.

Lucifer said, "I want you to be comfortable."

You mumbled something that sounded similar to 'thank you' before resting your head against his chest. You were now so close that he could feel your body's steady rise and fall with every breath you took. It comforted him. He pressed his lips on the crown of your head, and you hummed in response.

He was about to kiss you again when a song started blaring on the television. It was laden with static and just a tad too slow to be considered pleasant to human ears. However, the soft tinkling of the piano in the background never failed to tug on Lucifer’s blackened heartstrings.

He did not have to look up to know that this was the ballroom scene where the demon and their lover danced their hearts out in front of a crowd of guests. Although Lucifer had always appreciated the movie’s soundtrack (he had a weakness for the classics), he had always made sure to take an extra long sip of wine whenever this scene had come on in the past. It was too cheesy for his taste with the gaudy dresses and overacting. He could never understand the appeal of dancing while everybody else does nothing but watch. Wasn’t there a better use of their time?

But now–

Lucifer caught himself staring at you again. He usually did it unabashedly, but now he was starting to get embarrassed. He took another sip of his coffee, allowing the bitter aftertaste to burn in the back of his throat.

He felt you speak rather than hear it. "That's so pretty," you said. Your cheek was squished against his chest, which muffled your words.

"It truly is." Lucifer wasn't referring to the movie.

…When did he get so cheesy? It was a mistake to watch this with you.

You nodded, "Yeah, I wish I could do that." You drummed your fingers against Lucifer's knee.

He frowned. "Do what?" The characters weren't doing anything of note to be envious of. They were just…dancing. The demon's dress flourished and swished with every step they took, and their lover was not far behind with their outfit sparkling under the light. Lucifer pressed his lips together.

"Oh, you know…" you sat up, but you stared bashfully at the floor, instead of at him, "...dance." You scratched at the back of your neck when you finished your sentence, turning your head away from him.

"You don't know how to dance?" He asked. There was a hint of a chuckle in his tone, and he had already given up on hiding his smile. Lucifer hadn't meant to sound so amused at that tidbit, but you had caught him off guard. As he had gotten to know you over the years, you had become stronger and more talented than he thought any human was capable of being. During your time here, you learned how to wield your pacts, how to use magic, and, most audaciously, how to wrap one of Devildom's most powerful demons around your finger. He had never imagined that you didn't know how to dance of all things.

"No," you answered, "That's why I always hung out at the beverage table during Diavolo's parties." You picked at a stray thread on your shirt. Instead of snapping, it elongated, and you clicked your tongue.

"You told me you liked the punch."

"That too."

Lucifer laughed but had the grace to cover his mouth with the back of his wrist. You shot him an unamused look with a stiffened frown. That only made Lucifer want to laugh harder, but he maintained his composure after that initial moment of weakness. Lucifer stood up and held his hand out.

You recoiled into yourself, hunching over and bringing your knees together. "What are you doing?" You asked after a brief second of hesitation. Lucifer didn't miss the way your gaze shot over to the television.

"What do you think? I'm asking you to dance." He kept his hand stretched out in front of him.

You glanced back and forth between his eyes and his hand before shaking your head. "Oh, no, no," you said, "I could never. I'd probably just trip or trample over your feet or–" you let out a dry chuckle, "or do something else embarrassing." You were smiling, but it was half-hearted and wistful, utterly different from the blissful expression plastered on your face five minutes ago.

"You won't."

Your breath hitched. One side of your face was illuminated by the low light of the screen. He could see the demon and their lover reflected across your dewy eyes. The haunting music lulled in the background, filling the silence between you two. "Okay," you said, your voice was quiet, holding that vulnerability that captivated him.

You tentatively placed your hand in Lucifer's. He wasn't wearing his gloves, so he was well aware of the warmth of your skin against his. Your palm brushed against his. Your touch was so light that you were practically hovering above his skin. Lucifer's fingers curled around your hand. You tensed under his grip as a reflex before allowing yourself to relax. Slowly, you stood up and held your other hand out toward him. Before he could react, you drew your arm back into yourself. Your eyebrows were furrowed in silent uncertainty. Lucifer placed his free hand along your upper back, near your shoulder. You stepped closer on instinct, shortening the space that separated you two. Maintaining eye contact, you hovered your hand over Lucifer's shoulder. The look in your eye silently asked him if you were doing the right thing.

Lucifer gave you a reassuring smile and nod. He trailed his hand from your shoulder to your wrist and guided your hand to its rightful place. You squeezed his shoulder for reassurance, and Lucifer held your back again.

"Follow my lead," Lucifer said as he began dancing to the music. He stepped forward, but you kept your feet awkwardly planted on the ground. He nudged you slightly. "Hurry," he tilted his head toward the television, "The song is about to end." He kept the sound of his voice scarcely above the macabre music emanating from the movie.

You bobbed your head and stepped backward, taking care to follow Lucifer's footsteps. He matched his steps in time with every note. Lucifer led you around the room, dancing in circles. You kept your head down, and he wondered why you suddenly seemed so uninterested until he noticed you mouthing numbers. He raised an eyebrow. Were you keeping count of each step? How…cute.

He leaned in closer to say, "You have to look at me, dear."

You didn't move your head, but Lucifer noticed that you were now peering at him through your eyelashes. "I know," you responded, "I just don't want to step on your feet and trip you up." Lucifer spun you around, and you yelped.

With a small stumble, you landed back in his arms. "What did I say earlier? You won't," Lucifer said. You gulped in lieu of a reply. It was barely audible, but Lucifer could hear the way you sucked in a short inhale as he led you up and down the room.

And then, you tripped.

Lucifer had taken a step forward, but you, mistiming the music, also stepped forward. You stomped on his toes, and Lucifer barely staggered back before regaining his footing. He quickly steadied himself and was about to grab your shoulders to steady you, too, when you slammed into his chest, sending him tumbling down.��

Seemingly by instinct, you jutted out your hands and grabbed him by the waist. Lucifer took a sharp, but imperceptible, breath once you caught him. He allowed himself time to blink once before smirking. You had dipped him. It was inadvertent, of course, but still shocking.

Lucifer brushed his thumb against your forehead to wipe the bead of sweat that threatened to trickle down the side of your temple. “And you said you didn’t know how to dance.” He hoped his smug aura would mask the sudden onset of tachycardia.

Your face was pinched up into a tight grimace, which only worsened at his remark. Upon catching wind of your expression, Lucifer immediately stood up. That seemed to break you out of your stupor.

“I’m so sorry,” with shaky hands, you smoothed down his collar that had partially popped up after the kerfuffle, “I didn’t mean to bump into you like that.” You began to dust off his shirt.

Lucifer tenderly grabbed your hands and pulled them off of him. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said. He was speaking softly but not quietly enough for his words to be classified as a whisper.

“Alright, but I really am sorry.” You took a deep breath to, presumably, calm yourself down. After a beat, you chuckled faintly, “You should have seen your face.”

“What about my face?”

“Nothing!” you laughed out loud, “I mean, there was nothing. Your expression was completely blank, even as you fell.” You rocked back on your heels, “Though, I did hear you gasp when I caught you. What was that about, huh?” You beamed at him in such a way that Lucifer could only describe as endearing.

Any retort he might have had died on his tongue. Instead, Lucifer gave you a helpless look. “You are far too perceptive...much to my detriment.” He let go of your hands in favor of cupping your cheeks, “But, I must admit that it’s one of the many things I adore about you.”

He felt you flush at the sudden compliment.

The music shifted, and Lucifer took the opportunity to loosely wrap his arms around your lower back. “Shall we continue where we left off?” he asked.

Your arms awkwardly hung in the air before finding their way around his neck. “I’d love to,” you said with a certain lilt that was absent before.

Instead of guiding you around the sofa and back, Lucifer swayed in place in time with the now even slower song coming from the television. You rested the side of your cheek against his shoulder. The sudden intimacy made Lucifer hold you tighter against him. He took note of the scent of your shampoo, searing it to memory.

"We should do this every night." When you merely hummed, Lucifer elaborated, "I mean, I can teach you how to dance. If you would like, the next lesson can be conducted in the privacy of my own room."

You buried your face in his shirt. After a beat longer than he would have liked, you answered, “Yeah, I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.” You bit your lip. It was evident that something else was on your mind, but Lucifer didn’t pry. He kept holding you in his arms until you pulled away slightly to look him directly in the eyes. He tilted his head quizzically, which is what made you sigh. “Lucifer, are–” you paused, seemingly thinking about the best way to word your next sentence, “are you going back to work after this?”

Lucifer peered over at the forgotten, half-empty cup of hell coffee he had left on the table. It hadn’t been long enough for the drink to be cold, yet, but it was probably lukewarm at this point. If someone did not know where to look, they would hardly notice the crack that ran up and down the mug. He had no idea how it broke: he took the mug out of the cabinet one day, and the crack was there. Not that he was expecting anyone else to, but nobody had dared to confess to the crime. Lucifer supposed that was due to the fear of the punishment that may arise, which he fully intended to dole out, until he realized the cup was still usable.

That mug was his favorite for a reason: it was one of the first gifts you had gotten him as a couple. He could hardly throw it out, so he continued to use it for his breakfast coffee, late nights in the office, and pick-me-ups on especially emotionally taxing days. You never commented on the sudden crack, but he did catch you throwing a few curious glances in his direction whenever he would drink from that cup. You stopped after a few weeks and even started to use the same cracked mug to surprise him with a midnight brew in his office, just like you did tonight.

He turned his attention back toward you. “No, I changed my mind,” he pressed his forehead against yours, “I would rather spend the rest of the night with you.”

“I’m glad,” you said, “You’ve been working hard lately. You deserve a break.”

You took advantage of the proximity to give Lucifer a chaste peck on the lips. He was hardly satisfied with how short it was. Lucifer caressed the sides of your face and pulled you in for a kiss. Although he was the one that initiated, you still stole his breath away. You ran your hands through his hair and sighed in contentment.

A tinkling of laughter echoed behind you, causing you to jump back. You whipped your body around in the direction of the sound. It took a second before your eyes settled on the television. The ballroom scene was long over, now replaced by the characters, still in their gowns, drinking tea in the garden.

You rub your upper arm and let out a small, sheepish laugh of your own. “Oh, I completely forgot about that movie,” you shook your head.

“That’s surprising. You were so enthralled by it earlier that you could hardly take your eyes off of the TV.”

“I suppose I got distracted by something a bit more interesting.”

Lucifer gestured toward the sofa. “Would you like to continue our little movie night?” he asked. As much as he enjoyed dancing with you, he couldn’t forget why you were here in the first place.

Without further prompting, you flopped back down in the spot he was pointing at. “Of course,” you said, “Hey, after this movie is over, can I play one of my favorites?”

He pretended to contemplate your request, “Hmm, a movie from the human world.” He sat down next to you, “Sounds fascinating.”

“Oh, it’s so good. You’ll love it!” You scooted over so that you were practically sitting on top of him.

Lucifer smiled involuntarily, which was something he always did when you got excited. “Alright, alright.” He wrapped his arm securely around your waist. You leaned your entire body weight against him, resting your hand on his thigh as if it belonged there. Warmth radiated throughout his chest, causing his heart to swell. Lucifer needed to make mistakes more often.

#Obey Me #Obey Me Lucifer #Obey Me MC #Lucifer x Reader #Lucifer/Reader #Fanfic #Reader-Insert #omsecretsanta22

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whumpsecretsantaevent · 8 months

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SS In July gift: @hiding-in-the-shadows

This is an exchange event so there will be a blanket trigger warning for all entries, so read at your own risk! Potential trigger warnings may include nsfw themes as well as gore and possible squicks.

KASSSSS!!!! ❤️❤️❤️ HAPPY NOT CHRISTMAS, LOVELYl!

You're such a legend and you should know that I was so so happy when I saw I was assigned to you, legit squealed 😭❤️😌 amazing taste in tropes btw - OM NOM NOM 🍽️

I apologise so so much for the delay! my laptop decided to do the die on me and I've been stealing other people's laptops to write where I can! ❤️

I hope you like 🥺 I tried to hit your tropes, and I hope it's okay 😖 I made a new whumpee for it! Nehehe - more pain for more pretty men!

Lots of love, your secret Santa!

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

It was a regular Friday night for Otis, and thank fuck it was. The weekend was starting to feel like it would never arrive and the past hellish week had definitely aged him ten years. Wisps of grey hairs sneak through his dark brown curls, frown lines and wrinkles starting to creep in. The joys of stress, right?

He lay curled up in bed, eyes fluttering shut and breaths drifting softly in and out of his lips. A half-finished glass of red-wine sat on the nightstand, next to a well-worn copy of 1984, his go-to staple book when he was so run off his feet with work that he hadn’t had a chance to snag a new romance novel from his favourite used bookstore a few blocks down from his house. Everything was silent. The only glow was the flickering street lamp across the street, seeping through the slits in the curtains.

Otis drifted away with the high of the alcohol, giggling and hiccuping softly to himself as he did so. His shoulders loosened with every soft chuckle, melting into his mattress as the warmth of the blankets envelop him. The soft breaths soon morph to gentle snores and in minutes, the lull of sleep pulls him under.

…

The piercing sound of shattering glass snaps Otis wide awake. He springs upright in bed, his heart pounds at his ribcage, racing a mile a minute. He sits as still as a statue for a moment, frozen solid in fear, cold sweat drenching through to the bedsheets. His eyes dart around, frantically searching the darkness. And then he hears it again. Another crash. Louder this time. The alcohol seems to dissolve in his bloodstream, the adrenaline sobers him in the blink of an eye.

Someone’s breaking in.

Gruff, mumbling voices whisper downstairs, then comes the creaks of the floorboards beneath cautious, tiptoed footsteps. Otis can feel his stomach twist and turn, pinching into a knot as bile rises to his throat. From head to toe, his body trembles so much he’s vibrating.

There’s nothing worth stealing. Nothing. No rolls of money stashed anywhere and even the damn TV is ancient technology. He can’t hope and pray that they’ll take something shiny that catches their eye and let it out the back door. They’re going to search. Turn the house upside down, scour from top to bottom. And they will find him. Sooner or later.

Otis’ ears prick at the groan of the stairs, the same step halfway up that always creaks when he usually stumbles down half-awake for midnight snacks. His body jumps into action before his mind can comprehend that he’s even moving. Otis races towards his wardrobe and throws himself to the floor, ducking his head underneath the dangling clothes on hangers. He swiftly drags the doors shut as quickly and quietly as he can possibly manage - submerging himself in pitch-black darkness. Otis folds to his knees and peeks through the slats of the wardrobe doors.

The doorknob to the bedroom rattles and twists, and then it swings open. Two tall, muscular men, dressed in all black come storming through. Searching the room, ripping off the covers from the bed and rummaging through all of Otis’ belongings. They sift through his drawers, pulling photo frames off the wall and smashing them on the ground.

A choked sob tries to claw its way through Otis’ throat. He slams his clammy palm over his quivering lips to trap his own cries. Squeezing his eyes shut and pressing a tear from underneath. Snot trickles down from his nose, his chest heaving.

He’s panicking, he knows. Freaking the fuck out. How the hell are you supposed to stay calm in these situations?! Help is out of the question. His phone is still charging on the bed stand, he didn’t think of swiping it when he dove into the wardrobe. He didn’t think! He just did! He should have leapt out the window and crawled his way to safety, broken bones and all. Now he’ll be on the front page of the newspaper.... ‘Male found dead in burglary gone wrong’.

“Don’t be shy, little buddy. Come out and play!” One of the intruders calls out with a dark chuckle, suddenly squatting to check underneath the bed like he was so certain Otis would be huddled underneath there. Otis’ eyes blow wide, shuffling further back into the wardrobe. The dark figures circle his bedroom, and one of them heads straight towards him. Striding towards Otis’ hiding spot.

A dizziness spins in his head and the stuffy air around him feels suddenly suffocating. Otis traps his breath in his lungs.

He’s going to die- oh god help him, they’re going to find him-

Otis screams his lungs out as the wardrobe doors swing open with a bang against the wall, a beam of light from a torch blinds his tear-filled eyes. The intruder smiles down at him, a terrifying look of amusement sparks in his eyes as he stares down at Otis cowering on the floor.

"Boo! Comfy, little one?" the intruder asks, his voice dripping with sickly-sweet sarcasm.

Otis doesn't say a thing. He can't. He's paralyzed with fear. His mouth blubbers open like a fish out of water. He just gawks up at the intruder, his eyes wide and bloodshot with terror.

The intruder laughs, a cruel, mocking sound. "Don't worry your pretty little head," he says. "We’re not going to hurt you. Not yet, anyway. Why rush the fun? We’ll have all the time in the world."

He reaches down and snatches Otis by the arm, hauling him to his feet. Otis cries out in pain as the intruder's grip digs deep, bruising into his flesh. He kicks and flails with every ounce of energy he’s got. They overpower him easily, without so much as busting a sweat. Every hit and swipe must feel like a tickle of a feather to the burly man. They throw Otis carelessly onto the bed, shoving him down onto the mattress and snatching his flailing arms to pin his wrists above his head. The man’s entire weight crushes Otis as he climbs on top.

“NO- FUCK- LEMME GO!” Otis roars, his voice breaking into a high-pitched squeal, and squirming underneath the intruder’s hold. Hot tears spill down his cheeks. “PLEASE! TAKE WHAT YOU WANT AND GO-”

The intruder shoves his hand over Otis’ mouth to muffle his cries, “Shut him up-” he growls the order to his accomplice. The other intruder quickly fishes around in his duffle bag until he holds up a leather muzzle, dangling it from his hands. Otis lets out a blood curdling shriek beneath the man’s sweaty palm, bucking his hips on the bed and writhing desperately. He clamps his jaw shut, grinding his teeth and shaking his head from side to side - refusing to let them strap that vile thing in his mouth. Fingers pinch his nostrils shut, another hand pries and rips at his jaw to pull his mouth open.

The accomplice swarms in to wrap his hands around Otis’ throat, squeezing until he rasps and wheezes on stolen air, the pinky-hue of colour fades from his face until his skin turns porcelain white. A metal bit forces its way through his parted lips and presses down on his tongue, the leather muzzle swallows the lower half of his face. Any desperate sound he tries to make gets lost in the abyss - he can only huff furiously through his nose.

“You’re exhilarating when you cry, aren’t ya, lil buddy?” the intruder marvels, he wipes at the wet droplets collecting on Otis’ eye bags and licks the salty tears from his finger. “Would you look at those puppy dog eyes?”

This can’t be happening. This can’t be real. Panic fogs Otis’ spinning mind and clouds every rational thought. It’s - It’s a nightmare, it has to be!… the wine must have dragged him into a heavy, disturbed slumber. Or the stress! Maybe it’s taking more of a toll on him than he thought.

“Nah-ah. Focus on me, sweetheart,” The intruder croons, his fingertip dabs at the tears slipping down Otis’ puffy, rosy cheeks. Otis’s eyes stay glued shut, squeezed tight until his bloodshot eyeballs feel like they might pop out of his sockets and burst. Muggy breath wafts hot against the leather muzzle, welded to his face with sweat. Thick trickles of drool slip from his quivering lips, his teeth scraping on the bit.

He pants and heaves for air beneath the muzzle. The heat is unbearable, and the sweat drips down his face, stinging his eyes. Blood rushes to his head and his heart pounds in his chest.

Otis’ eyes shoot open. But he wishes he stayed hidden behind the safety of darkness behind his eyelids, where he doesn’t have to face reality. Where he can’t see the stranger pinning him down with a wolfish grin.

“Good boy,” the intruder praises, cool as ice, stroking his hand through Otis’ sweat drenched hair, “I knew you’d be an angel for us. Picked a good-un, didn’t I?”

It’s sickening. Every touch revolts and terrifies Otis’, making his stomach do somersaults. A petrified whimper makes it through the gag, and he winces. He’s never heard a person whimper before…never heard himself whimper before. The sound is so foreign to him, so out of place, that it took him a moment to realise it was actually coming from him. He was whimpering like a child, like a wounded animal.Like a dog. He can't stop it. The pain is too much, the fear too overwhelming.

The intruder climbs off Otis’ body, and forcefully rolls him over and face down, shoving him onto his belly. His wrists are seized in an iron grip, and wrangled from stretched high above his head to criss-crossed over the small of his back. Otis sobs into the bedding his face is shoved into. The stranger splays his warm hand between Otis’ shoulder blades, and slides painfully slow down his spine. Every nerve-ending lights up, his skin crawls and twitches.

“You’re going to do nicely. Sweet little thing like you. You’re going to be the perfect pet,” the stranger purrs.

Pet.

Otis’ vision dips to black. He just felt his soul leave his body. He felt himself floating upwards, and out, away from his body. He looked down and saw himself lying pinned on the bed, lifeless. Hopeless.

A leather cuff slips over each wrist, strapped tight before being linked together with a chain in between. Otis tugs at the restraints with all the strength he can muster, his muscles bulge and his veins pop as he strains against them. Sweat beads on his forehead and his breath comes in ragged gasps.

The accomplice jingles something beside the bed to grab Otis’ attention. Otis’ twists his head, writhing on the bed to look…and then a guttural scream rockets up his throat, shaking his head so violently that his sight mists.

A collar. With a silver, engraved dog tag dangling from it.

“If you’ll do the honours…” the intruder nods to his accomplice, giving him the greenlight. He swiftly fastens the dog collar around Otis’ throat, buckling the band until Otis chokes and cries out behind the bit, before he finally loosens it, allowing him to suck in air again. His cheeks burn cherry red beneath the muzzle with shame. His humanity stripped away from him with only a few instruments, he’s entirely at these bastards mercy.

“Guess what your dog tag says, boy! Go on!”

Otis lets out a pitiful whine, shaking his head trying to free himself of the muzzle. His hair flops around like a dog drying their fur.

“Oh right. I forgot. Guess I’ll have to tell you!” The intruder elates, grabbing Otis by the collar and spinning it around his neck to grab hold of the tag.

“Pup. If found, return to Master Becker.”

They must be able to clock the look of pure terror on Otis’ face, his eyes streaming with tears, nostrils flaring.

“Oh, that’s me, by the way. I’m your new owner, little one.”

This is insane. No-one can own him. He is his own person, with thoughts and feelings and dreams. They have no right to take that away from him. To beat him down to nothing more than a tamed, defenceless animal.

He won’t give up easily. He will not back down, and he will never surrender, no matter what the odds. He will fight back at every twist and turn, until the very end.

“Let’s wrap it up here. Grab the legs. I’ll take his arms,” Becker barks. Otis is lifted into the air, the accomplice grabbing his kicking feet and Becker hooking his arms under Otis' armpits.

Otis struggles and flails, but he was no match for the two men. They carry him effortlessly, as if he were a small child. Otis's head lolls back, and he closes his eyes, feeling helpless and defeated. He knows that there is nothing he could do to stop them. They are going to take him away, and there is nothing he could do about it. They carry him out the room, making their way downstairs and back down that creaking step.

It might be the last time he’ll ever hear it. He already misses it-

They drop Otis’ to his feet when they reach the final step, but he crashes to the floor in a sobbing heap. Every muscle gives out on him, he slumps like dead weight. Becker wrenches his fist in Otis’ hair and drags him back up and standing, and forces him to stumble towards the door.

When the door opens, there’s a black van parked outside. Right under the streetlamp. It’s running, its engine’s quiet hums cut through the silence of the night like a knife. Otis’ breath sprints away from him, he screams again, his legs go to give out - but Becker catches him in his arms.

He massages Otis’ Adam's apple, bobbing beneath the collar, with his calloused palm, “Breathe, boy. Do as you're told.”

Otis quickly shakes his head 'no'. Not that he won't, but he can't. Every breath is ten times harder than the last, his chest heaves and his lungs burn. Spots dance in his vision.

Becker pulls a strip of cloth from his pocket, and ties it over Otis’ swollen and tear-filled eyes, blindfolding him, “Calm down. You needn’t ever worry about anything else. Just listen to my voice, heed my word as gospel. Only me. Only my voice. And nothing else ever again. Until that ticker in your chest rusts and stalls to its final seconds.”

Otis keens, shredding his throat with his garbled cry. He collapses into Becker's arms once more, as he rubs meant-to-be soothing circles and pats Otis' back. Shushing him as he wails.

“Hush, little puppy. Stop your whining. Let’s get you to your new home,” Becker coos, tugging at Otis’ collar.

#SS In July 2023

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kydrogendragon · 1 year

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Christmas Cookies

For the OM Secret Santa! For @evabellasworld

I hope you enjoy!!!

Pairing: Lucifer x GN!Reader Word Count: 1553 Content/Warnings: Lots of Fluff!

“Does this thickness look appropriate?” Lucifer’s calm voice asked through the sounds of Christmas music and the quiet bickering of his brothers that could be heard in the living room. MC turned from the countertop full of cookie dough to look at the cut-out shapes of candy-canes, Santa hats, and presents that the eldest brother was working on.

“Looks good to me!” They said, taking note of the quarter-inch thick dough. The perfect sugar cookie height, as expected from Lucifer. Lord Diavolo was determined to bring the spirit of Christmas alive to the Devildom with the help of his two resident humans that were taking part in the exchange program. He claimed it was to better the relations between the realm, but it was obvious from his giddiness that the future king just wanted to enjoy a new holiday. So, between MC and Solomon, the pair came up with a list of classic Christmas traditions for everyone to partake in.

Of course, gift exchanging was the first one to be mentioned, one that Mammon was particularly excited for to no one’s surprise. Rather than have everyone get everyone else a gift, they did a Secret Santa game. Diavolo was particularly happy as he had drawn Lucifer’s name and drug MC shopping with him. It took a lot of effort to get the future king to not buy everything in the store. They felt bad for Barbatos as he ended up carrying the bags of goodies from their prolonged shopping trip. Everyone decorated the House of Lamentation and the Christmas tree they chopped down from the forest in the back. The decorations were a bit… unique, as Christmas decor wasn’t exactly a well stocked item in the Devildom. Ornaments included flowers, potion bottles, or anything else that could be attached to string to be hung. They did make popcorn to string as garland, but it quickly became a midnight snack for Beel two days later. Cookie making and decorating was a tradition MC had suggested, which is why MC and Lucifer were currently hogging the whole kitchen while everyone else was busy in the living room designing their own Christmas cards.

Lucifer hummed in response as he turned back to his section of dough. He lifted one of the cookie cutters, a tree shaped one, and turned it in his hand, red eyes tracing the metal lines. “It’s curious to see one of these in such a shape,” he mused. “Bats, scorpions, or fire are more the shapes we would see here.” A small smile graced Lucifer’s face and he continued to punch out the shapes in the dough.

“Not a fan of tree shaped cookies?” MC said. Lucifer gazed at them from the side.

“I am when they are made by you.” MC shook their head as they focused on their own work. They could feel heat rising to their cheeks. Lucifer wasn’t necessarily unaffectionate, but his comments or touch still never failed to fluster them. They couldn’t help it, not when he would look at them with that gaze, when he would look at them with such intensity in his gaze that MC felt they may just combust on the spot. And not in a metaphorical sense either.

The pair resumed their work, cutting out cookies and setting them to the side for baking. The goal was to have enough for everyone to decorate and enough for Beel to eat his fill which was why they were preparing enough cookies for a small army. They fell into a comfortable pace: punching cookies, setting aside, and gathering and rerolling the dough so they can repeat the process again. Solomon acquired a collection of different Christmas vinyls from the human world, one of which was currently playing in the background. MC recognized it as Mr. Michael Buble himself, which made them smile. His voice echoed lightly in the confines of the kitchen.

The oven beeped, alerting the pair that the first batch of cookies was finished baking. Lucifer dusted his hands off on the bright red apron bearing the words “Santa’s Little Helper” is colorful, cartoony font, and glided to the oven. Using a just as brightly colored oven mitt, the eldest lifted the tray of freshly baked cookies out of the oven and onto the top to rest and cool. MC joined his side with a smile.

“They look good! Doesn’t look like they burned either. I wasn’t sure how this recipe would do with a Devildom oven.” Lucifer’s lips tugged upwards.

“Indeed. I daresay they are worthy of Barbatos’ praise.”

“I think that’s the best compliment one could get on their baking.”

MC hummed with content as they made their way back to the countertop. Carefully, they placed the uncooked cookies onto two more prepared baking trays, making sure to arrange them to maximize the space. They handed the trays to Lucifer, once they were happy with it, who slid them into the warm oven space and set the timer.

The baking was definitely going to take the longest, but with everyone else being preoccupied with their own activities, MC was relishing this quiet time they got to spend with their lover. Lucifer was a busy demon. Between managing the work he has for Lord Diavolo and the student council, keeping his brothers in check, and handling anything else that pops up, there was rarely time that the pair of them got to spend like this in quiet harmony. It was nice, simply working side-by-side like this. With the warmth of the oven and the sweet smell of baking sweets, ironically enough, it felt like heaven to them.

A crash was heard from another room followed shortly by a scream that sounded like Asmo. MC watched as the calm, peaceful look on Lucifer’s face tightened, his jaw clenching and brows furrowing. Levi’s voice carried through the house as he yelled Mammon’s name. A sigh was drawn from Lucifer’s lips as the sound. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, massaging the area as he closed his eyes. MC winced in sympathy at the eldest.

“Want me to check on them?” They offered only to be met with another sign.

“No,” he said, dropping his hand from his face. Lucifer turned to MC, his red eyes looking them over. “I believe my brothers can fair well enough on their own, this time.” Lucifer stepped forward and wrapped his arms around their waist. MC looked up, their eyes meeting. They could feel warmth radiating off his body, his hands like small heaters on their waist. The cacophony of noises from the other room still rang through, but with the way Lucifer looked at them, everything faded into the background. MC reached up, wrapping their arms around his neck, one hand snaking up to play with the soft black curls at the nape.

His classic smirk graced his face as he lifted one hand to cup their cheek. Lucifer’s thumb rubbed the soft, reddened skin. “I believe we have earned ourselves a break, don’t you?” Before MC could reply, Lucifer was leaning in, his lips brushing against their own. MC’s eyes fluttered closed, leaning themselves against his body as their lips collided. The eldest hummed in response, pulling them tighter.

This isn’t their first kiss. In fact, it’s far from it, but as Lucifer pulls away, it’s like he pulled the air in their lungs along with him. This was the second Christmas away from family and friends, the second Christmas not in the human realm. The first time they were here, they were too busy dealing with everything that was going on. Before they knew it, Christmas was long past. Then, when their second year in the Devildom came around and Christmas drew near, MC was afraid that the joy and happiness of the holidays they grew to love and anticipate wouldn’t happen this year. But between teaching the boys all about the yuletide season with Solomon’s help and getting to share these rare moments with Lucifer, it looks like that fear was for naught.

“Thank you,” MC whispered against his lips. Lucifer rested his forehead against their own.

“What for?”

MC’s hands trailed across his shoulder and up, resting against the sides of his face, holding him in place.

“For being you. For being here, with me. For everything.” They tilted their head up, pressing their lips against his, then on his nose, then his forehead. “For giving me such a merry Christmas. One I won’t ever forget.”

Lucifer smiled, a true, steady, and happy smile. A smile reserved for MC and MC alone, one they had been seeing more of ever since they had gotten together upon their return to the Devildom.

“I believe I should be the one thanking you if that is the case,” he said, his deep voice sending shivers down MC’s spine. “My heart, you have done more for me than you could know.” Lucifer pressed a long, wanting kiss to their lips.

“Merry Christmas, Lucifer.”

“Merry Christmas, MC.”

“Mammon! Give me the glue stick back!” Levi’s voice cried through the house. Lucifer closed his eyes and sighed. All MC could do was laugh. As chaotic as the House of Lamentation was, it was home, and they wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #gn!reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer x gn!reader #ky writes

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gr8mammon · 1 year

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This is my secret Santa drawing for the @omsecretsanta2022 event and for the awesome @azusawrites of their epic MC with Simeon. I hope I did alright drawing the two of the them together since it’s my first OM fanart. I hope you have an awesome Happy Holidays and a great New Year!! 🎄⛄️❄️✨💛

#obey me simeon #simeon #om! simeon #obey me mc #obey me shall we date #obey me #obeymesecretsanta2022 #omsecretsanta22 #omsecretsanta2022

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leviathans-watching · 1 year

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just so we have a quick look at what's ahead:

this week (12/12-12/17): my exam week, meaning i am going to busy today and tomorrow, then have half days wed, thurs, fri (i work today, fri, and sat) where i can focus on writing and putting out content (om secret santa posting can begin weds)

next week (12/18-12/25): on break, doing some family stuff and probably working a few days, but overall should have more writing time (om secret santa stuff will continue through this week)

week after that (12/25-12/31): will be around for the 25th to finish up secret santa stuff but beginning on the 26th i will be going into a week long hiatus where i will not be active, accepting prompts, etc. as we get closer to this time i'll expand upon it further but wanted to give a heads up

#this is more for me than for yall #but i didnt want the hiatus to come out of the blue so here's my warning lol #from: levi #i hope to spend some time filling reqs and posting content in the next two weeks bc i miss writing as much as i used to be able to :((

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mendedwings · 1 year

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Fair Trade

Happy holidays, @angstmongertina! I’m your @fyeah7kpp Secret Santa! All your girls are so lovely, but I couldn’t resist writing something for Tempy/Clarmont. I hope you enjoy!

---

Most of the obstacles Temperance had faced thus far in her bid for self-sufficiency and independence had been more mental or metaphorical. The sturdy black and white paint mare eying her from the stall was a tad more literal.

Temperance took a deep breath and stepped closer. “Hello, Sugarplum.” She kept her voice soft and soothing and one hand out, a cube of sugar balanced on her palm. That much she knew about horses; they appreciated treats.

Sugarplum took the proffered peace offering eagerly, her lips tickling Temperance’s palm, then nickered.

“There, we’re friends now. hm?” Temperance kept her hand extended and carefully moved to stroke the side of Sugarplum’s muzzle. The horse took it well, content with the attention and treat.

Step one. Temperance bit her lip and lifted the stall latch.

Sugarplum’s ears pricked and she shifted her weight with a quiet snort as Temperance slipped into the stall with her.

“It’s alright, I’m not going to hurt you,” Temperance soothed. She stroked the mare’s neck. “I just wanted to go for a ride, we can do that, right? Get you some exercise and fresh air?”

She’d read about the process of tacking a horse, watched the footmen both home in Arland and here on the Isle. Surely she could manage to do this alone, tack and mount a horse. There were a couple stablehands... somewhere if she ran into trouble she couldn’t handle.

Sugarplum huffed and lightly stamped a hoof. Temperance had picked her because she seemed even-tempered, but there was an edge of restlessness to the motion. She dug a pair of carrot slices from her pocket as further gesture of goodwill and reached for the bridle.

Step tw- It was different. There were fewer pieces to it, not as many straps as Temperance expected. She froze in uncertainty, looking between the bridle and Sugarplum, trying to gauge how this one would work.

Sugarplum’s ears went back when Temperance stepped closer again, dodging backwards to avoid the extended bridle.

“Come on, girl.” She was trying to sound encouraging, but it probably came out closer to begging.

Sugarplum snorted and dodged again, tossing in a nip for good measure this time.

Temperance yelped as she backpedaled, avoiding the very large teeth. Tears pricked her eyes regardless as she bumped the stall door. It shouldn’t be so hard to do things for herself-

“Everything alright- Princess?” The familiar voice sounded surprised, and it added to her desire to curl up in a ball or vanish. Perhaps both. Pasting on a smile, she turned to face her company. “Good morning, Lord Clarmont.”

He arched a brow, clearly seeing through her brave front but kind enough not to call her on it. “And to you, Princess Temperance. Might I ask what you’re doing out here so early?”

“I wanted to go for a ride and... thought to tack my own horse.” She gave a shaky laugh, flexing the almost nipped fingers as the other hand maintained a death grip om the bridle. “I... Sugarplum’s always seemed a more gentle horse. Easy-going.”

Clarmont smiled warmly, leaning his forearms against the stall door. “She is, but even easy-going horses will nip if stressed.” He gestured her closer. “Come out for a moment, let her calm down.”

Face hot, Temperance followed the direction. “I was trying to be gentle,” she mumbled.

“I’m sure.” Clarmont stroked Sugarplum’s forelock. “If I may offer some advice?”

She nodded mutely.

“It’s usually wiser to tack a horse out of the stall, unless it’s a large one. So they have room to not feel trapped.” He nodded toward the bridle she held. “And Sugarplum’s mouth is sensitive; while that would be correct for the other horses, she needs a bitless bridle.” He held out his hand. “I can go swap it for you, if you like, while you lead your noble steed out for tacking?”

Another nod, still silent as embarrassed frustration made her eyes burn. Couldn’t even tack a horse on her own...

Clarmont paused, rested a hand on her arm. “Temperance? It’s an admirable goal, and no shame to ask for help with a new task.”

“Thank you,” she managed, her face still warm--though not solely from embarrassment any longer, as she gingerly guided Sugarplum into the main aisle of the stable. The horse was laconic about complying, but did follow to one of the securing lines. Held still for Temperance to loop the rope around her neck. “Good girl,” Temperance whispered, offering another carrot, which was greedily consumed.

“Here we are.” Clarmont returned with the correct bridle in hand. “Did you get a saddle and pad?”

Temperance nodded and pointed to the bench where she’d draped them with one hand as the other stroked Sugarplum’s neck.

“Have you ever used a bitless bridle, highness?” Clarmont asked, twinkle in his eye, as a pair of stablehands passed by.

“Can’t say that I have,” Temperance confessed, tucking loose hair behind her ear. “Even the standard ones here look different from the ones I’ve seen back home.”

“It won’t be much of an issue with Sugarplum here,” he began as he guided the bridle over the horse’s head, slowly to let Temperance see how he did it, “since she’s so calm, but controlling a horse with no bit is different, and trickier if they’re headstrong.”

“Good to know.” Her embarrassment was subsiding, replaced by curiosity and desire to do better next time, so she watched intently as he settled the bridle around Sugarplum’s ears. “I chose her precisely because she’s calm and gentle. And it’s my understanding paints are more laidback in general?”

“They are indeed,” Clarmont said with a smile. “You know horses?”

“To a degree.” Temperance retrieved the saddle blanket and laid it over Sugarplum’s back. “Even if I don’t know everything about their care, I have read quite a bit about various breeds; their temperaments, strengths, areas of use and the like.”

“I’m impressed,” Clarmont grinned, shifting the blanket an inch or so toward the withers. “Can you manage the saddle?”

“I can try.” It had been... very heavy heavy when she brought it out, she wasn’t sure she could get it up on a horse’s back. But she’d give it her best shot.

He watched her collect the saddle, stagger under the weight, and when it was clear she wouldn’t lift it high enough he stepped in. “Allow me.”

And before she knew what was happening, his chest was against her back and his hands under hers, guiding the saddle to its proper place on Sugarplum’s back.

The heat in her cheeks was definitely not embarrassment this time. “Thank you.”

“You are most welcome. Make sure the girth is tight enough as you buckle it, but not too tight,” he said, withdrawing his hands but staying close.

Temperance took a deep breath and tried not to get distracted as she buckled the girth. “Is there a risk of it changing?”

“Mm. I don’t know if it’s foible of Sugarplum’s, but some horses will hold their breath while being saddled, let it out after for a looser fit.” Clarmon rested a hand on Sugarplum’s flank. “More comfortable for them, but dangerous for the rider.”

Sugarplum nickered and nosed his pocket until he laughed and produced a few carrot pieces.

Temperance smiled to herself, kneeling in scratchy straw when her calves started to burn. With the horse distracted, it was relatively easy to confirm the girth was buckled safely. She started to stand, just as Sugarplum shifted position and bumped her shoulder. Temperance teetered and would have fallen into the wall if Clarmont didn’t grab her arm.

“Careful, dear princess,” he said with a twinkle in his eye as he righted her.

“Thank you.” Temperance enjoyed the warmth of his hand on her arm once more as he let it linger. “I’m doing a bang up job of handling this on my own, aren’t I?” she commented ruefully.

He gave her an encouraging smile. “Everyone has growing pains with a new skill, Temperance. Besides, when working with or around horses, it’s better to have two people or more. For safety’s sake.”

“And good company?” she teased, almost--pleasantly--surprised at her own boldness.

Clarmont’s smile widened. “If you’re lucky.”

I am. “Well. Then, in the interest of both safety and good company...” Temperance’s fingers curled around the reins. “Would... would you like to join me on my ride, Lord Clarmont?”

His eyes twinkled. “Princess Temperance, it would be my honor. Give me a moment to fetch a horse.”

Temperance spent that moment stroking Sugarplum’s neck and murmuring quietly to her. ‘He’s quite the gentleman, isn’t he? Very kind and handsome.’

Clarmont returned with a starred sorrel ambling beside him much more swiftly than she expected, and she hastily strangled off her asides to the horse. “That was fast.”

He smiled sheepishly. “I confess, I was hoping to accompany you. Marquis is a good trail mate for Sugarplum; I asked the stablehand to saddle him while I was helping you.” He paused and cocked his head. “I apologize if that was too forward of me.”

“N-No.” She fought the urge to bury her face against Sugarplum’s neck. “Not at all.”

Clarmont’s eyes filled with relief. “Glad to hear it. Would you like a hand up?” He nodded toward the horse.

Temperance nodded. “Yes, thank you.” Sidesaddle was so much trickier to mount on your own. She didn’t loosen her grip on his hand until she was settled and it was only half for safety’s sake.

“Set?” he double checked, waiting for her confirmation before he eased back and mounted his own horse.

“Thank you,” Temperance said as they made their way toward the trail. “For all your help. I do want to learn to do things like this on my own, but I’m... glad you were here for the learning curve.”

“It was my pleasure,” he said. “As I told you, it’s an admirable pursuit.”

“I do feel I owe you something for your efforts.”

“Not at all, but if you insist” --his eyes were twinkling again-- “there’s a sweet and lovely lady I’m trying to court, if you had advice on how to win her heart, it would be welcome.”

Temperance’s smile widened. “Seems a fair trade. I think I can help with that.”

#my fic #7kpp secret santa 2022 #arland princess #lord clarmont #it's been a very long time since i took riding lessons #i hope i got all the horse stuff right😅

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ijwrsmff · 1 year

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Obey Me Masterlist

Obey Me: One Master to Rule Them All:

Lucifer

Do You Even Want to be With Me?-Lucifer x gn reader/MC (Hurt/Comfort)

To Make You Smile-Platonic! OM Brothers & Male! Reader (Hurt/Comfort)

My Favorite Anime Character! (OM Brothers Headcanons) x Reader

Mammon

To Make You Smile-Platonic! OM Brothers & Male! Reader (Hurt/Comfort)

My Favorite Anime Character! (OM Brothers Headcanons) x Reader

Leviathan

Insecurities-Leviathan x gn Reader/MC

Secret Santa-Leviathan x gn reader

Ruri-Chan?!?!-Levi x gn Reader/MC

Afraid of Water-Levi x gn Reader/MC

To Make You Smile-Platonic! OM Brothers & Male! Reader (Hurt/Comfort)

My Favorite Anime Character! (OM Brothers Headcanons) x Reader

Satan

To Make You Smile-Platonic! OM Brothers & Male! Reader (Hurt/Comfort)

My Favorite Anime Character! (OM Brothers Headcanons) x Reader

Asmodeus

To Make You Smile-Platonic! OM Brothers & Male! Reader (Hurt/Comfort)

My Favorite Anime Character! (OM Brothers Headcanons) x Reader

Beelzebub

To Make You Smile-Platonic! OM Brothers & Male! Reader (Hurt/Comfort)

My Favorite Anime Character! (OM Brothers Headcanons) x Reader

Belphegor

To Make You Smile-Platonic! OM Brothers & Male! Reader (Hurt/Comfort)

My Favorite Anime Character! (OM Brothers Headcanons) x Reader

Simeon

Losing Faith-Simeon x gn Reader/MC

#obey me x reader #obey me masterlist

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akimbo628 · 1 year

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Lucifer would complain about the wasted flour and how childish it is, but if MC invoked either the puppy dog eyes or his competetive side, he might engage in battle with MC. Lucifer is fond of baking cakes, esp. with MC, so the scenario around the fight is highly realistic. I recommend referencing the "Baking Craze" chat (in Lucifer & MC's) and the "Lucifer's Melancholy" Devilgram.

Thank you so much for your input regarding my question from this post! 😄

That's pretty much the direction I had initially headed towards in the oneshot I'm trying to write -- Luci walks in on MC baking alone, he's exasperated by the mess they made, but he agrees to help them out. I was just starting to write the part where MC would surprise him with a pinch of flour to the face, and I was going to have him retaliate playfully, but then I started second-guessing the whole thing 😅 so it's super helpful having actual canon info backing up what would be Luci's reaction if I continued writing it that way!

Thank you again for your help!! 💖

#anon #obey me #obey me lucifer #om lucifer #lucifer x mc #reference #secret santa fic #fanfic

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fickleminder · 11 months

Text

Obey Me Masterlist

All writings feature GN!MC unless otherwise stated :)

✨ = Popular!

Masterlist Directory >> HERE

Latest:

sacrificial lamb > part 1, part 2 ✨

The impossible choice between you and the Devildom.

Inspired by the Frost pop quiz.

Fics:

seven supervillains and one (1) normie

You move in with seven normal, law-abiding housemates.

Written for the Devildom zine.

be good ✨

AU inspired by this prompt: Humans are born with demon counterparts to protect them. The more innocent and pure a person is, the more mean, fierce, and terrifying their demon becomes.

Halloween 2023 fic.

date night

Inspired by @777xara‘s art here.

never after

Not all fairy tales have a happy ending.

Based on Satan’s Breaking Curses Devilgram and this post.

what’s up doc

Based on this post. Dedicated to the Satan simps who didn’t manage to pull his card in the Doctor Nightmare.

Zombie (commissioned art here) ✨

Mini-blurb based on an answered ask by @sparkbeast20.

CW: blood and gore (in both the fic and the art).

would you lie with me (and just forget the world)

When taking out the trash, it’s more efficient to do it all in one go.

Karasu’s Confession Corner ✨

Written for the OM Secret Santa 2022 event. Features Mammon x GN!MC.

let us die young (or let us live forever)

Life in the Devildom living with seven demon lords is pretty darn good. If there’s one thing you’re sure of, it’s that you’re loved, wholly, irrevocably, and forever.

Halloween 2022 fic.

The Escape

You are attacked while alone in the House of Lamentation.

Based on this scenario.

Bad Days ✨

You didn’t sign up to be their therapist, least of all their punching bag.

Inspired by @barbabetos‘ post here.

falling (for you) (commissioned art here) ✨

Five times you fell on Satan, and one time he returned the favor.

Obligatory 5+1 fic featuring Satan x GN!MC.

careful what you wish for

You and Satan find out that sometimes magic wishes have unexpected consequences.

Based on Satan’s Wish-Granting Charm Devilgram.

Food Favors

Mini-blurb based on an answered ask by @house-of-laminations.

Dirty Pop(sicles) ✨

When a human can’t even enjoy a popsicle on the beach without inviting salacious thoughts, you do what you have to do, toothache be damned.

CW: suggestive content but nothing explicit.

crawl to the in-between (part 1, part 2, part 3/?)

While recovering from an attack within the HoL, MC slowly finds out that there’s more to the Devildom than meets the eye.

This AU’s still a work-in-progress, summary to be updated.

forever valentine

Satan gives you flowers every Valentine’s Day.

Spin-off from this scenario (spoiler alert!) with a V-Day twist.

soft kitty, warm kitty

You sing Satan to sleep.

Lyrics taken from Big Bang Theory.

cum laude (commissioned art here) ✨

Season 1 AU. Snapshots from a year in which the human exchange student actually acts like one instead of playing demon family therapist.

Dedicated to all the goody two shoes MCs out there.

Inner Demon ✨

The one where the human exchange student gets possessed by a lesser demon.

Crack-ish fic inspired by this post. CW: mild body horror.

Cuddle Puddle

Technically every week is considered “hell week” in the Devildom, but this particular one has Elleroy ready to throw in the towel and call it quits.

Written for the OM Secret Santa 2021 event. Features Satan x M!OC x Asmo.

of electric rodents and demon butlers

Pokemon AU. Wooing a demon butler who hates rats on principle is a little tricky when you have an electric rodent on your team.

Self-indulgent Pokemon AU.

so wake me up (when it’s all over)

Your demons turn against you.

Halloween 2021 fic.

hear me cry > original, alt ending ✨

The one where the brothers team up to catch you.

Inspired by the Masked pop quiz. CW for alt ending: violence, blood.

Into The Woods > part 1 (commissioned art here), part 2

It’s like with Lilith all over again. Hindsight is 20/20, but given the circumstances, Lucifer has no qualms repeating history.

Inspired by The Nature of Sin.

Unholy

You haven’t said a word since you were moved back into your old room, but that’s okay. You’re in one piece, your burns are healing nicely, and there’s cream in the medicine cabinet for the scarring on your wrists and neck. The charred, bloody stumps on your back can wait; all Luke cares about is getting rid of the damned marks those accursed bangles had branded into your skin as they melted off.

Inspired by an answered ask from @obeythebutler.

the years start coming and they don’t stop coming > part 1 (commissioned art here), part 2 ✨

In which Lilith’s return distorts her brothers’ perception of time.

The original replaced!MC AU except we have Satan on our side.

Keeper

"Will one million Grimm be enough?” / “...How much is that in human currency?” / “Good point. One million American dollars it is then. We can say we sold everything at a charity auction or something.”

Inspired by the Angelic pop quiz.

Schrödinger (commissioned art here) ✨

Many ghosts dwell within the House of Lamentation alongside its demonic inhabitants. One in particular takes sick pleasure in tormenting Belphegor. (Alternatively: when the you that disappeared from Mammon’s arms isn’t completely gone)

Halloween 2020 fic.

Idea Blurbs:

no hope, no love, no glory

Replaced!MC AU. Wherein falling out of favor with Mammon has consequences.

weakest link

Inspired by the key route in the Lantern event.

Emergency Contact ✨

MC’s night alone in the HoL takes a turn for the worse.

The Haunting of Serenity Manor

Haunted House AU inspired by this and this.

your name

Mini scenario where MC isn’t really “MC”.

soul on paper

Inspired by Satan’s 2021 birthday pop quiz and UR Devilgram.

equalizer

Features a fighter-MC, lots of OOC characters, and generally dark content.

Incorrect Quotes & Headcanons:

Zero

Sugar Daddy ✨

Saving Daylight

Intimidate

Hidden Skills

Anime Run

Good Workout ✨

Depressed!MC moves into HoL AU ✨

#writing #obey me #obey me fanfic #masterlist #obey me replaced mc au

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viriborne · 2 years

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Does anyone know if there’s an Obey Me Secret Santa going on this year? I’m not on Twitter but ik a lot of the fun stuff like zines and such are mainly hosted there. Please lmk if you know of anything! I’d like to get more involved with other om artists.

#obey me #omswd #om

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ditte-i-brisbane · 6 months

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Anden sidste skoleuge og fællesarrangementer

Så er anden sidste skoleuge forbi, og jeg har nu kun en uge tilbage, inden min eksamensperiode begynder.

Sidste uge blev brugt på diverse afleveringer, da jeg har gode 5 afleveringer/quizzes for i denne uge... Jeg fik dog færdiggjort nogle af dem i sidste uge, og er klar til at afslutte det sidste i denne uge.

Udover skole bød denne uge dog også på en masse fællesskab. Onsdag aften holdte vi Secret Santa med mit hus og nabo huset, hvor vi alle havde trukket et navn på en person som vi skulle give en gave til. Jeg fik en gave af Sophie, som havde købt et vildt sjovt kortspil til mig. Det skal jeg nok få brugt en masse på vores roadtrip!

Jeg havde trukket Brita, og min gave til hende var en hjemmestrikket bolero. Jeg synes selv den blev meget flot, og jeg tror også Brita blev glad for den :))

Dagen efter, torsdag, holdte vi Friendsgiving, hvor der var inviteret rigtig, rigtig mange mennesker. Det blev lidt for meget for mig, men de andre hyggede en hel del. Jeg fik spist noget god mad, og vi legede White Elephant, hvor alle tog en gave med, og de blev fordelt random til folk. Her fik jeg et mini legosæt som var vildt fedt.

Fredag aften blev brugt sammen med UQMC, hvor der blev holdt Award Night. Her blev der delt et par priser ud, og jeg var meget overrasket, da jeg fik prisen for "Best Style". Det var en virkelig hyggelig aften, hvor jeg fik snakket en masse med Ingvild og de andre venner jeg har fået i Mountain club.

Lørdag blev der holdt Beerlympics (druklege) hele dagen hjemme hos os. Dette event skippede jeg dog, da jeg skulle løbe halvmaraton med løbeklubben dagen efter. Derfor tog jeg til West End og kiggede på lørdags markedet og gik rundt i byen. Jeg gik også til Milton, hvor jeg fik købt en løbevest, Salomon er virkelig dyrt... Jeg ville nemlig gerne være klar til halvmaraton dagen efter, og jeg ved min danske krop, ikke er lige så god til varmen, som de lokale australiere.

Søndag vågnede jeg kl 5, med en lidt træt krop. Søvnen havde ikke lige været helt i top, da der jo var blevet holdt lidt fest dagen før, men kroppen var i det hele taget bare godt smadret. Jeg ville da stadig gerne prøve og se, om jeg nu kunne løbe det halvmaraton på 1:45. Da jeg så begyndte ruten, kunne jeg rimelig hurtigt mærke, at det ville blive en hård omgang. Lige så snart jeg kom ud i solen, føles det som alt energien blev hevet ud af min krop. Efter 10k vidste jeg godt, at jeg ikke kunne ramme det mål, jeg havde sat mig, men jeg prøvede alligevel at løbe videre i håb om, at jeg i det mindste kunne løbe en ok tid. Jeg valgte dog at stoppe ved omkring de 17k, da min krop virkelig ikke kunne mere, og jeg hellere ville stoppe der, og ikke presse min krop yderligere, end at forsøge at løbe det færdigt. Det var en lidt øv beslutning, men jeg synes selv det var den rigtige. Heldigvis var alle fra løbeklubben virkelig søde og opbakkende. Da jeg var færdig var Brita også kommet ud for at sige tillykke til mig, hvilket var virkelig sødt <3

Efter løbet tog jeg med løbeklubben ud og spise morgenmad, hvor jeg fik spist en masse og drukket en masse vand. Det var virkelig godt for kroppen. Da jeg så kom hjem, lå jeg i sengen næsten hele dagen, da jeg bare var max smadret. Jeg prøver nu at huske mig selv på, at jeg nok skal løbe det halvmaraton på et tidspunkt, og det betyder jo bare, at jeg har den glæde tilgode! Man kan jo heller ikke forvente at PR både i 10k og halvmaraton indenfor en uge.

Jeg glæder mig til at begynde at løbe mine lange stille og rolige turer igen, og få lidt mere ro tilbage i løbet.

Nu begynder sidste skoleuge som sagt, og det bliver så dejligt at få afleveret de sidste ting, så jeg kun skal tænke på eksamerne.

Jeg er lige nu igang med at finde ud af, om mig og nogle andre danskere skal tage på et lille roadtrip i revision week, og komme lidt rundt omkring i Queensland. Jeg skal dog nok huske at komme hjem et par dage før min matematik eksamen, da jeg virkelig skal have læst op på det!

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