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froggibus · 1 year

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The Mark of Greed - Mammon

Pairing: Mammon x reader

Genre: angst -> fluff, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: mammon can’t help but notice that you refuse to talk about his pact mark, and he’s determined to find out why

CW: hurt/comfort, angst, violence (reader gets attacked by demons), mutual pining, self deprecating thoughts, arguing/yelling, angsty! Mammon, love confessions, misunderstandings

i definitely did not write all of this at 3am. nope. idk i had this image in my head of soft! Mammon tracing your pact mark and telling you he loves you so here it is lol. i got super carried away and ended up making this super long too oops

————

The best kept secret in the Devildom, aside from Satan’s pet cat, was your pact mark. Not just any pact mark—no, it was the shimmering gold one that marked Greed. Right from the day you got it, you knew you should keep it hidden.

Always wearing clothes to strategically cover it, lying, deflecting and giving different answers every time someone would ask. Mammon watched all this, and said nothing. Sure, it was a little funny, but it also made him wonder.

Did you hate him? Was the mark of greed as awful as he always thought it was? Was his touch so ugly and toxic that you didn’t want anyone to know about it?

Maybe his brothers were right. Maybe there was something wrong with him. You were so open about your pacts with his brothers, gladly showing them the swirling coloured patterns that marked your body. You showed them off unashamedly, proudly displaying the marks as part of yourself.

It made him jealous, really. You were his human. You were his first. His pact was your first—so why did you hate it so much? He always pegged envy as Leviathan’s emotion, but the more he watched, the more he realized his turmoil was enough to rival the otaku himself.

You first notice Mammon withdrawing after you show a demon in class your pact mark with Beel. An orange sigil just above your belly button that you displayed proudly with crop tops and bathing suits. You could feel Mammon’s eyes on you the whole time, watching you as you explained the beauty behind the mark.

“It’s not just cause he’s the Avatar of Gluttony,” you explain, fingers tracing the orange outline. “But it also relies on emotions. In this case, the comfort he brings me is like having a full stomach. It sits right at my core because he’s my support.”

You swear you see blue eyes roll to your left, but you shrug it off. He’s probably just upset because Lucifer confiscated Goldie again. Still, you can’t help but think he’s jealous of the way you’re talking about Beel.

When you walk home later that day, Mammon is short with you. He barely acknowledges you or responds to anything you say, instead he slumps his shoulders and shrugs you off.

“Mammon, is everything okay? You seem…upset,” you note.

“The Great Mammon? Upset?” He tsks, “maybe your time in the Devildom has made you dumber, y/n.”

“I was just checking on you…”

You don’t wait for him to say anything else and instead throw open the front door and stomp to your room in silence. If he wants to be a jerk, you’ll let him be a jerk.

You practically throw your backpack across the room and slump on your bed. One of your pact marks aches and the thought makes you cringe. Of course it’s that one.

Ever since you got it, you’ve tried so hard to keep it hidden. Not even telling Mammon himself where it is. I mean, if he knew, what would he even say? You could almost hear his voice in your head telling you that you’re delusional to think you could ever be with him, dismissing your feelings and breaking your heart.

You get up and sit in front of the mirror, pulling off your shirt so that you can examine your skin. There, sitting above your heart, is the golden mark of Greed. You trace it lightly. It’s always been your favorite, the colour and the design by far the prettiest. You just wish it wasn’t where it was.

When you first got the mark, when you felt it sear itself into your skin, you knew what it meant. It was a visual representation of the butterflies in your stomach and the clenching in your heart every time you saw the Avatar of Greed.

Still, you found yourself flipping through the pages of Satan’s personal collection. You honestly hoped it was just random, a weird coincidence or a mistake—but the books said otherwise. They confirmed your fear.

When the others started to make pacts with you, you worried the same thing would happen. That they would show up in the same place or worse. You can still remember the immense relief you felt when you made your pact with Levi and have the mark show up on your thigh.

Levi was so excited to ask about his mark and when you let him touch it? He almost exploded. That was the first time Mammon asked you about his mark, and it was the first time you lied to him.

You groan in frustration and pull your shirt back on, trying to blink away the image of his branding. A part of you always wanted to tell him, to show him and have him touch it. But the other part couldn’t get it out of your head that you’re just a burden to him. You’re his responsibility and that’s the only reason he hangs around you.

You only wish things could be simpler.

—

Mammon slams the door to his room and sinks down against it. He tugs on his white hair so hard it hurts, but the pain isn’t enough to wash away the frustration bubbling in his chest.

Why did he have to be so mean to you?

Maybe if he was nicer you wouldn’t hate him or his pact mark. Maybe if he was nicer to you he might actually have a chance of being with you.

The sound of his voice rings in his ears, echoing off his skull. He hates it. He hates how mean he was to you, and the guilt eats him up.

Finally, it becomes too much and he forces himself to his feet. He should apologize to you. Because Lucifer would kill him if he knew how mean he was being…not for any other reason.

You open the door to see him standing in front of you, fidgeting with his hands. “What’s up?”

“I—Lucifer would be mad at me if I didn’t apologize to you,” he says, eyes focused on his shoes. “‘N I don’t wanna be strung up tonight so I’m sorry human.”

“It’s fine. Just—why were you so upset earlier, anyways?”

He shrugs his shoulders, still avoiding eye contact with you. How can he tell you that he’s jealous and angry that you don’t want to show off your pact mark? It’ll make him sound like a little kid.

“Mammon, come on. It’s just me.”

He sighs, “not that I care but I don’t get why you hate my pact so much.”

You freeze, your blood like ice in your veins. All this time you’d been withdrawing from him, you knew he noticed but because he never said anything, it was easy to ignore. Not anymore.

“I-I don’t hate it.”

“Then why do you never show anyone?”

“It’s just,” you shrug, “in a weird spot. I don’t know—I don’t hate it. I just don’t want to show it off.”

“Because it’s ugly, right?”

“Mammon—“

“Why would anyone want to be marked by Greed?”

“Mammon—!”

“Imma dirty scumbag anyway. Making a pact with you was the most selfish thing I ever did. Tying you to me for life, why would you ever want that?”

“Mammon, Jesus. Just listen to me!”

The demon stops his self deprecating rant, staring at you expectantly. He doesn’t know what you’re about to say, but all he can hope is for you to tell him that’s it’s not true. That it’s not ugly, that you want to be tied to him.

Your words fail you. You interrupt his rant and suddenly your mouth goes dry under the gaze of his blue eyes and your words all fall away. Your heart beats a mile a minute, drawing more of your focus to the pact mark that connects the two of you.

You stare at each other for a minute, and then Mammon turns on his heel and storms out of the room.

It takes you a minute to process what just happened, and another minute for you to follow him. By the time you make it to the staircase, he’s already slamming the front door shut behind him.

Everything is moving so fast. The illusion that you were protecting yourself from Mammon hating you has shattered—replaced by the realization that you’ve been hurting him this whole time. You can’t think of anything except for how to make this right.

Without thinking about it, you follow him out of the door and into the streets of the Devildom. It’s dark out and you have to squint to see the familiar white hair receding into the distance. You pick up the pace, wanting to catch him before he disappears.

You’ve never been outside alone before. It’s too dangerous, they always said. But that’s the furthest thing from your mind right now. All you want is to make things with him better.

“Mammon!” You call, heading up the hill behind him.

When you get to the top, the demon is no longer in sight. You spin around to see if he doubled back to the house, only to realize it’s no longer in sight either. The horrible realization that you’re lost starts to set in and you find yourself reaching into your pocket for your DDD—only to remember you left it in your backpack.

There’s a hissing noise nearby and you’re suddenly acutely aware of how vulnerable you are here. Without thinking, you start to run back the way you think you came. You hear two pairs of footsteps behind you, they’re gaining on you. Whatever is chasing you, it’s going to catch you.

A clawed hand takes your back and hot pain erupts within you. You fall to your knees and scream, warm blood trickling down your back.

You try to get back up but you’re shaking so badly that your knees refuse to cooperate. There’s two demons behind you, only vaguely humanoid with glowing eyes and flickering tongues. They’re speaking, but not in any language you understand.

They circle around you, taking some sort of sick amusement in watching their prey cower. One of them lashes out at your chest, three claws slicing the front of your shirt and causing blood to pool down your chest and stomach.

You reach up to clutch the wounds, your fingertips brushing against the golden pact mark. I’ll never get to tell him how I feel, you realize.

“I’m sorry, Mammon,” you murmur, tracing your pact mark one last time.

A jolt of energy rushes through you followed by intense golden light in front of you. You squeeze your eyes shut, waiting until it dims to open them again. When they’re open, you see Mammon in demon form, standing between you and your attackers.

All it takes is a flick of his hand before they erupt into dust. You knew he was powerful, but seeing him in action only confirmed the fact.

“Mammon..?”

He drops to his knees in front of you, his hands frantic as they search you for injury. His fingertips fall on your open shirt and clawed chest. “You’re hurt…”

“I’m sorry, Mammon,” you mumble.

“I know.” He says, “let’s just get you home, okay?”

He scoops you up in his arms effortlessly, holding you close to him. You’re sure your blood is dripping all over him and wrecking his new shoes, but you’re too disoriented to care.

Mammon sets you down on the counter in the bathroom, “move your hand, alright? I gotta make sure you’re not gonna die.”

Without thinking about it, you move your blood coated hand off of the pact mark. Mammon slowly peels off your shredded shirt, his eyes going wide when he sees what your hand was covering.

Somewhat hidden by the blood and fabric yet unmistakable, is a golden mark. Not just any golden mark—his golden mark. His pact mark and its above your heart?

His hands shake as they brush the outline of it. “My—my pact mark is on your heart?”

You bite your lip and nod slowly, looking anywhere but at him.

Mammon is in complete disbelief. This whole time he thought his feelings were one sided, that you hated him and hated his pact even more. But to find out that it’s on your heart of all places—right as he almost lost you? He’s almost entirely overwhelmed by his feelings.

His hands shake the whole time he bandages and disinfects you, his mind only set on the branding above your chest. When he’s done fixing you up, he can’t stop staring at it.

“You got lucky that the Great Mammon was here to protect you today,” he tries to play it off.

“I-it was only cause I summoned you with the pact.”

The mention of the pact makes his head spin again. His mouth is suddenly dry and his hands sweaty.

“Mammon,” you mumble, still unable to look at him, “please say something.”

His voice is low. “Do you know what it means when a pact mark forms over your heart?”

You shake your head, butterflies erupting in your stomach.

He reaches out to trace the swirling lines of the mark, his touch featherlight. “It means I’ll always be there for you, y/n.”

His tone is serious, unlike anything you’ve heard from him before. You don’t dare move or interrupt him, wanting to hear what the demon has to say.

“It means that I’ll never let anyone hurt you,” he mumbles. “That I’ll take care of you no matter what. It means that you own me. It means that I—“ he swallows hard, looking at the floor. “I love you, y/n. Now and forever.”

You flinch at his words. They’re all you wanted to hear and yet hearing them has awakened something inside of you.

Your eyes finally meet his. “You—you really mean it?”

“I love you,” he gently kisses the centre of his mark on your body. “I love you.”

“Mammon,” you say, “I love you.”

Mammon might burst at your words. He reaches up to cup your face, planting a needy kiss on your lips. His touch is desperate, needy, way overdue. You melt into him, his taste so familiar and comforting that you don’t need to think twice about it.

Mammon smiles against you. If you had asked him a week ago, he would say that his pact with you was the most selfish thing he’s ever done. Looking at you now, though, he sees it as a sigil of his love for you, and what could be more selfless than that?

#obey me x reader #obey me oneshot #obey me x you #obey me fic #mammon #mammon x you #mammon x reader #mammon fluff #mammon avatar of greed #mammon angst #obey me headcanons #obey me #house of lamentation #obey me devildom

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amaya-writes · 6 months

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for ringtober i think it would be so funny to see the obey me brothers reacting to reader losing her ring lol i just know some of them *cough* Mammon and Asmo *cough* would be sooo dramatic

Ringtober Masterlist

Notes: I actually thought this was such a fun idea and had too many thoughts abt it so had to do hcs lol

Warnings: n/a just fluff

Characters involved: Lucifer, Mammon. Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor

Gender-neutral reader, you/yours

Lucifer

Highkey mad.

He cannot believe his fiance could be so irresponsible, and will state as much. His reaction and words will probably hurt, and he doesn't realise that until later.

Lucifer is out doing yet another task with Diavolo when the demon prince casually mentions how he saw you looking all over the place for your ring and you seemed quite sad.

You somehow convince Mammon to help you out since he's literally the best at finding shining things (and keeping them to himself, but he's too scared of Lucifer to steal your ring), and Solomon since he seems to have a solution for everything.

At the end of the day when it's dinner time and you're still not back at RAD trying to find your ring, Lucifer can't help but go find you.

He embraces you and says he was wrong to chastise you so harshly, your determination to find the ring showcases you weren't being irresponsible but it was just a small accident.

Lucifer isn't a very openly affectionate demon which is why he was hurt that you lost a symbol of his rare affection.

When the two of you return to HOL you're happy to discover Solomon waiting at the gate for you.

Apparently, Cerberus had been sitting on your ring the entire time. It must have slipped off when you were petting him and fell onto his dog bed.

Lucifer finds the entire ordeal sort of amusing, and you can't help but giggle too as you promise to pocket your ring before you pet Cerberus, or any other animal for that matter.

Lucifer secretly makes a duplicate of both of your rings the next day, he can't believe he didn't think of doing that before. He also thinks it would be cute to pass down the duplicates to your children.

Mammon

Is actually a little offended.

That was the first piece of jewellery Mammon acquired without stealing it. He even worked extra hard for his modelling agency to save up white money for you.

He never wanted anyone to ever be able to tell you your engagement (and wedding) ring was bought unfaithfully.

So, after putting in so much effort Mammon couldn't help but feel at least a little offended you just lost the ring.

To make matters worse you lost it because Asmo took you to get manicures and the lady over there misplaced it.

"For all we know it could be stolen by now!"

Mammon lets out a big annoyed huff and decides to give you the silent treatment for the rest of the day.

This doesn't last long and he ends up going to your room to find you, he feels sad seeing you look so dejected and decides to sort of apologise.

"Look what's done is done no point gettin' all sad bout it."

He feels worse because you seem genuinely sorry and apologise a lot.

Things end well because Asmo shows up at your room a little later with the ring in his hand. He says the receptionist found it with your wallet, which you also happened to forget there.

Leviathan

You did what?! That's it you don't love him. This whole thing was a lie, you clearly don't care about Levi or his love for you, you-

He will literally break off into the longest ramble ever and you're too scared to cut him off and make matters worse.

Levi locks himself up in his room and refuses to come out or talk to anyone. It gets so serious all the brothers are involved and you're all figuring out different ways to find your ring.

Lucifer eventually casts a spell and figures out your ring is in...Levi's room?

You storm to his door and tell him if he doesn't open it right now you won't have to find the ring because there won't be a wedding (a blatant lie, of course).

He opens it, you talk, and that's when Levi remembers he actually took your ring from you last night because he wanted to click pictures.

The ring was a custom design made to subtly match the design of the first game you played together, so obviously when Levi got a new installment of the game featuring the tiara your design was inspired by he just had to get a picture of the two together.

You were asleep on your gaming chair and he didn't want to wake you up so he just slipped it off your hand, but then forgot to give it back and just kept it in his drawer beside the game.

Mammon and Asmo couldn't help but laugh at how stupid this entire ordeal was, the rest of the brothers follow suit and then leave the two of you alone.

Now Levi's sheepish and the one apologising except he's just going on another ramble of how you probably hate him and won't talk to him but he deserves it.

Literally won't shut up until you cuddle him and tell him it's alright.

Satan

Locates it with a spell.

But first, Satan finds it so amusing how worried you are that he just has to play along and pretend to be annoyed.

If anything this whole ordeal was his fault because he was the who dragged you out to pet the street cats. In fact Satan almost lost his own ring when one of them was playing with his hand.

He has a small amused smile on his lips as you profusely apologise and insist on dragging him back to the park at midnight to try and find the ring.

Satan lets you ramble all the way there but when you two reach he realises you're getting a little too sad for his liking, so, he tells you to calm down and whips out a handy book of spells he had on him.

Ends up finding it in less than a minute, and that was a good thing too since the kitten playing with it looked like she was going to swallow the ring.

He triumphantly rescues your ring from the kitty, coos and pats her for a bit, and then return to your side with a boyish smile that almost quells your annoyance.

"You could have done this the entire time?!"

Satan lets out a genuine laugh so rare at your question you couldn't help but let your anger slip away as you laughed with him too.

He decides it's a good idea to recreate the moment he proposed to you and kneels down on one knee, slipping the ring on your finger and pulling you in for a kiss.

The moment ends up being a surprisingly romantic one you fondly retell to Asmo, who ends up gossiping about it to anyone with ears willing to listen to his squeels.

Asmodeus

Will never let you forget this.

When I tell you this man screeches.

Has the most girly squeeky yelling voice ever, in fact you actually can't even feel offended because you're too busy trying not to burst out laughing.

He's not even that mad about the ring he's more annoyed that you left him the entire day and were at Diavolo's hanging out with Barbatos and Luke.

"First you forget me then you lose the symbol of my love for you- next you'll be finding a new devilishly handsome demon to marry!"

Gets pouty. VERY pouty. Expects you to not leave his side at all until you find the ring, which is almost impossible since how could you find it if you don't leave his side?

"Well, then you'll just have to spend eternity stuck to me. I can't have you parading around without a symbol of affection, after all."

Thankfully for you Barbatos comes to the rescue, even if it's many hours later.

By the time Barbs shows up at HOL you've already spent an entire day apologising to Asmo and being by his side every second. He almost didn't let you go to the bathroom alone, claiming its nothing he hasn't seen before.

You had spent so many hours sitting on his lap idly combing your fingers through his hair or drawing random shapes on his chest you were certain you would go crazy.

Asmo didn't even let you check your DDD, which was too bad considering Barbatos messaged you about the ring almost as soon as you reached HOL.

When Barbatos drops by HOL during dinner you can't help but hug him excitedly as you thank him for finding the ring. He casually claims it was never lost in the first place, Barbatos simply set it aside after you removed it so you wouldn't get it dirty while baking.

Asmo seems almost sad to see the ring again since he doesn't have an excuse to keep you by his side anymore, but he gets over his poutyness after you suggest having a sleepover.

Safe to say you did a lot more than sleeping that night.

Beelzebub

Is probably the most calm of them all.

He asks you if you accidentally ate the ring, because he's constantly scared he might end up eating his ring.

You're kind of confused and ask him why he isn't offended or something and Beel just says he knows you would never lose it on purpose.

In fact he helps you try to find the ring so the two of you spend the entire day retracing your footsteps and having a lot of snacks.

By the time you make it back to Beel and Belphie's bedroom, which was the first place you went to help Beel wake up Belphie, you've almost forgotten about the ring.

The day just felt like a fun date with Beel and you found yourself feel grateful for having such an understanding and sweet husband-to-be.

You only remember the ring again when Belphie perks up as the two of you enter the room, suddenly reaching for a shiny object on his bedside table.

"Oh there you are, your ring slipped off this morning, I tried giving it to you earlier but I couldn't find you or Beel."

The three of you end up laughing about the situation, Beel gives Belphie some sushi he bought for him (because you cannot convince me Beel isn't that type of sibling who always gets you food when they go out) and you all just end up having a calm night in.

Maybe a movie night with loads of popcorn.

Belphegor

Looks at you with the most 'are you fucking kidding me' expression ever.

You not only chose to wake up the avatar of sloth in the middle of the day you also did it without giving him any of your usual kisses or hugs and paired that with very VERY bad news.

At this point you might as well run for your life.

The way you shake him awake almost startles Belphie but your nervous mannerisms as you just sit beside him quietly makes him wide awake.

He's now staring at you expectantly and you have no choice but to admit your mistake, which leads to a very annoyed Belphie.

"I expected better from my fiance."

Almost as mean as Lucifer if not more. Depends on how sensitive you are to such things.

Unlike Lucifer he doesn't chastise you too much, instead gives you that 'I'm disappointed in you' silence that makes you want to scream in frustration.

You knew you shouldn't have told him, but you were somewhat hoping Belphie somehow had your ring.

You end up apologising and then scramble out of his bed ready to race out of the attic and restart your ring hunt, but are tugged back by a familiar arm loosely wrapping around your waist.

"Where do you think you're going?" "To find the ring, of course." Belphie scoffs, but lets go of you to instead stand up beside you, this obviously confuses you, making him almost regret leaving his peaceful slumber for you.

"You look like you're going to burst into tears any minute. The chances of you seeing, much less finding, anything are little to none."

He sounds pretty guilty as he says it, making you smile softly as Belphie takes your hand and leads you out the room.

He almost immediately goes to Satan and just asks him to do a spell to find the ring. This not only surprises but also annoys you since you could have done that first and Belphie wouldn't even know the ring was gone.

Ends up being in the attic bathroom, you spent last night with Belphie so when you took your morning shower in his bathroom. You must have forgotten to wear your ring after you were done.

You thank Satan profusely then head back up with Belphie.

He beats you to the bathroom and slips the ring back on your finger, raising your hand to drop a tired peck on your knuckles.

"Don't lose it again." His voice is soft and he pulls you in for a quick hug with his chin resting on your head.

It's clear Belphie feels bad for snapping at you, so you two end up dozing off for the rest of the day.

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finelythreadedsky · 1 month

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keep thinking now about the idea of the ancient greek stage building as a doorway into death, which is separated from the stage (the space of the living) by the screen of the skene. cassandra calls it as much ("the gates of hades") when she enters the house of atreus. by convention characters cannot die on stage but must exit, usually into the skene, to be killed. cassandra's just extra explicit about it because of her foresight, but every entry into the stage building is a step into death. and then some people come back out of it!!!

#polymestor goes with his sons into death but then is dragged back...#killers like clytemnestra and orestes take their victims into death and leave them there #the origin point of these thoughts is actually oedipus at colonus #but VERY much hecuba and all three electra plays and the classic sophoclean *she exits silently into the house to kill herself*#also the way phaedra and hippolytus invert each other in death and directionality #it'd be interesting to do antigone with a setting switch during the choral ode where she does her own lament #so that the skene becomes the cave where she's imprisoned and then turns back into the palace for the last scene #mine #bodycostume #sorta. i think stage space plays into this somehow

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nocreativityfornames · 7 months

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I love these idiots so much

#I wish there was a picture for this chat #omswd chat: “our sweet big brother” ( the house of lamentation )#obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me mc #obey me chat log #obey me screenshots #☙ no creativity for names ✾

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devilevlls · 7 days

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So, imagine if in Devildom there was some kind of demon that hides inside mirrors.

They stay there waiting for their prey and if you look too much at your own reflection, you will notice a small smirk creeping out and when you're almost sure it isn't just your imagination, they attack, pulling you inside the mirror and eating your soul.

All the mirrors in the House of Lamentation are covered and MC only uses with a brother nearby.

#omswd #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #obey me swd #creepy obey me #the house of lamentation #Creepy om #evllsposts

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janahanooo · 7 months

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Mc: I love coffee and my silly little demons

Lucifer: we love you too Mc, but that was your 6th coffe this day and it's only 10 A.M. Go to sleep.

Mc: I don't want toooo

Lucife: sleep. now. Or I'm going to drag you to bed myself.

Mc: I chose the second, I feel dizzy right now to do it on my own...

#obey me #obey me mc #obey me nb #obey me incorrect quotes #obey me house of lamentation #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me hcs #obey me lucifer #obey me luci x reader #obey me lucifer x mc

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tsukii0002 · 2 years

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The House of Lamentation is huge. I mean it is a fucking mansion. And the house is full of passageways and secret rooms, Luke disappeared in a closet. So I think that, at first, Mc got lost very often.

Mammon is lying in his room when his phone rings, he looks at it and see Mc's contact

Mammon: Hey, what's up?

Mc: Mammon, it's me, it happened again

Mammon: ...

Mc: ...

Mammon: *stands up inmediatly* Okey human don't move, how is the room where you are? And where was the last place you were?

Mammon managed to find his human... After three hours.

#obey me #obey me! shall we date?#obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me memes #obey me crack #obey me incorrect quotes #mammon obey me #obey me mammon #obey me mc #mc obey me #obey me house of lamentation #house of lamentation

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addicted-to-morally-grey-men · 2 months

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Ok just wondering but what if..

*the most loudest squealing sounds could be heard throughout the HOL*

Mc- I TOLD YOU SO!

Asmo- OH DIAVOLO!!! HE IS SO HAWT

Mc- he? HE? BITCH EVERYONE OF THEM IS LIKE A FUCKING GREEK GOD or devil? Meh even hades was hot so whatever...

*both mc and asmo continue to squeal about manhwa characters*

Meanwhile with the others

Levi- so uh asmo stole mc again?

Satan- morelike mc stole asmo this time

Mammon- Y'ALL ASMO HAS BEWITCHED MAHH HUMMAANN!!! *Screams like there's no tomorrow*

Lucifer- a one peaceful day is all i ask for.... I want to die

Belphie- then die bitch.

Beel- *munch* *munch*

Nothing just a normal day in HOL 👾👍🏻

#obey me #obey me asmodeus #obey me mc #obey me shall we date #random thoughts #asmodeus x reader #obey me x mc #obey me x you #yandere obey me x reader #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #house of lamentation #manhwa #manhwa x reader

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daytaker · 4 months

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In the Wanderers' Whereabouts app, we see the design of the House of Lamentation and it shocks and disturbs me that everybody except Asmo has to share a single bathroom.

Can you even imagine the chaos?

It's time for school and Lucifer is standing at the base of the stairs, waiting for his brothers. Asmo comes down looking perfect as usual and prattles on for a little bit about how nice it is to have naturally long and thick eyelashes, and they can hear the shouts and clattering upstairs all the while.

Beel comes down and informs Lucifer that Mammon, Levi, and Satan were fighting over the sink, Mammon knocked Satan over by elbowing him in the solar plexus, Levi used the commotion to kick Mammon out of the way, an enraged Satan turned both Mammon and Levi into eels, said eels are now hogging the bathtub, Belphie refuses to pee when the eels can see him, Satan refuses to change them back, and he, Beel, still hasn't gotten to brush his teeth.

Asmo just nopes right out of there before someone asks if they can use his bathroom, because the answer is no. "Bye-bye! ♡"

Lucifer sighs. Just another Tuesday morning at the House of Lamentation. Time to go enforce order. He smacks his hand with a coil of rope as he ascends the stairs.

#dthc #obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me house of lamentation #house of lamentation #demon brothers #obey me demon brothers #lucifer #mammon #levi #satan #asmo #beel #belphie #hcs #text post #om! thoughts

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viccz · 1 year

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Lucifer having a crush on you.

Lucifer Supremacy ✊ !non gender specific mc!

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He knew he liked you when he started thinking about you constantly. Shopping on Azukon he wonders, what would MC like? Doing his paperwork he wonders, what would MC do if they were here? He’s always buying you things, praising you, giving you special treatment, and so much more. With all of that, he finally realized that he loves you.

At first, he feels that his feelings are distracting. He has work to do, he can’t be focused on a human. He tries to avoid meeting up with you in the halls, talking with you for too long, spending one on one time with you. It’s terrible, he misses being with you. He’d do anything just to forget these feelings and only view you as just an ordinary human. But he can’t. He can’t because you are no ordinary human. You’re his human.

He finally accepted his feelings for you. He doesn’t exactly know what to do about it though. What if you don’t love him as well? What if you like one of his brothers? He becomes worried. Very worried. But all of these thoughts leave him when he sees the way you stare at him.

It was during dinner when he noticed you staring. He was simply drinking his demonus when his eyes link with yours. Your soft eyes looking into his. You looked so wanting. Blush crept onto your face. You quickly look away, hiding your face from him, acting like nothing happened. That’s when he realized that you must care for him too. There’s been so many other signs. The way you covet his attention, the way your arms linger while hugging him, the way your eyes shy away from his while talking to him.

A few days later, he couldn’t stand it anymore. He needs you to be his. He yearns for your love. For your praise. Your taste. He was ready to tell you how he feels. So don’t even attempt the way you feel, he already knows you love him back. (also you’ll totally break my mans heart 😪” So, when you were conversing with Levi and Asmo, he interrupted.

“MC. Come to my room in 20. We need to discuss something important.”

Levi and Asmo looked at you. While Levi looked worried, Asmo looked at you mischievously.

“Oooh! MC! What’s going on with you and Lucifer?~”

You scoffed at him. You walked away from them both, rushing to your room to practice praying for forgiveness. You were fully convinced that you were gonna get some kind of punishment.

Lucifer hurriedly took off his clothes and slid on his robe. He set up some music and poured the both of you some demonus. The wait was excruciating. He needed you so much. He kept glancing at the time, awaiting the time you were supposed to arrive.

“…Lucifer? Can I come in?”

He got up and opened the door for you. Basically pulling you in with how he grabbed you. He sat you down on his couch. You looked so jittery, and yet, he could sense a hint of desire in your eyes.

“Please, have a drink MC.”

You were a bit skeptical. The music..the demonus..his outfit. What’s he playing at? Is he trying you make you melt with all of this romance? You awaited what was to come.

You two talked for a bit. Laughing about the brothers shenanigans. Discussing how school was going. Don’t think he didn’t notice you slowly inching closer to him. Once you were close enough, he placed his hand on your upper leg. You both then sort of froze and looked into each others eyes. He cleared his throat and said..

“ MC, about what I called you here for..well..how do I put this. I care deeply about you MC. So much that I dare to even say that I love you. I feel like i’ve known you for eons. So tell me, darling. Do you..love me back..?”

You were stunned. You couldn’t believe this. He really feels the same? He had you scared for a second! That jerk! But a beautiful jerk. Oh Diavlo,, what do you say?

“I..I love you too, Lucifer..”

He smiled. He quickly embraced you. He rested his head in the crook of your neck. He was breathing heavily, as if he had been holding his breath. You wrapped your arms around him too. Both relived that the other feels the same way.

You stayed in his room for the rest of the night. Drinking demonus and speaking sweet nothings into each others ears. He felt full of pride. You were finally his lover. He absolutely adores you.

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mwaaahahahahaha this was fun to write. Hope you guys enjoy this one 👾👾👾

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huramuna · 3 months

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banshee's lament - chapter 1.

aemond targaryen x stark ofc minor jacaerys velaryon x stark ofc masterlist prev | next

a former ward of alicent hightower and aemond's childhood companion, shera stark, returns to king's landing after ten years. ten years after the incident at driftmark that left her and aemond permanently disfigured. after so many years apart, shera and aemond are almost strangers. almost.

a/n: i posted the first two chapters of this story before, but they're being reworked -- so just poof what you know about them out of your mind when reading it now and think of it as a clean slate.

wordcount: 3k

@huramuna-fics - follow & turn on notifications for just my fic postings! no taglists right now, sorry.

content: smut, angst, fluff, disabled ofc, aemond being delulu & obsessive, major canon divergence, ofc has a service direwolf, i'm taking canon rules and putting them in a blender and taking a shot, arranged marriage

story playlist

The wind had finally died down that day, the trees somewhat still over the horizon. Their branches still wobbled with some errant breeze, whistling through the wood like a song.

The window was pushed outward, the crisp air crossing paths with the smell of smoke, whirling and mingling like lost friends. A small fireplace was warming the room as the lady perched on her windowsill, dark copper curls hanging around her like tendrils. Shera took in a deep breath of air— it was crisp and refreshing, pushing away the errant effects of sleepiness.

Her skin prickled in goosebumps beneath her nightgown as she turned to her bed. A large black mass was snoozing softly still, taking up the majority of the mattress. Slinking over, she snuggled herself close to the giant canine, blowing softly on his muzzle to wake him. Large amber eyes met brown and milky blue, pupils dilating and constricting in tandem, before the wolf let out a sleepy chuff.

“Wake up, my love,” Shera whispered, fingers digging into his shaggy mane as she scratched just the right spot. “Moongeist, we must start the day.” she hummed.

The direwolf rolled over onto his back, belly exposed to the chilled air. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, one leg kicking as his companion got the one itch just out of reach of his own claws.

“Oh, you’re a ham,” Shera mumbled into his fur, peppering him with kisses. “You’re no wolf, you’re a honey glazed ham,” she tickled his belly, causing him to let out an almost laughing whine. “With a side of sweet potatoes and winter chard.” she rolled next to him, snuggling into him like he was a person. Sprawled out from the tip of his outstretched legs, up to his nose, he outmatched Shera’s height by about one and a half feet. Westeros would surely need to watch out if her wolf ever learned to walk on two feet!

They lazed together for the better part of an hour before Shera called in the maids— but not before donning her veil and choker. The maids would only help dress her from the neck down, and were ushered out after for Shera to do her hair alone. She took in a deep breath as they fastened the corset around her form.

“May need to lay off the blueberry hand pies , my lady,” one of the maids murmured. “‘Tis getting hard to lace you up.”

Shera felt a swirling pit in her stomach at the comment— it wasn’t a secret that she was no svelte ermine. She had curves and a bit of extra mass in the softer areas of her body, coupled with scarred stretch marks around her sizable bosom and thighs. “… hm.” she snorted, not wanting to dignify the maid’s comment with a response. This was, unfortunately, the norm. The jabs, the pokes, the insults between sentences— even the serving girls have become brazen, snickering as Shera walked past. She didn’t exactly understand it— mayhaps it was because she could hardly speak to defend herself, mayhaps they think her daft and non-understanding of their less than tactful barbs.

As normal as it was, it made it no less tiring. “Just… lace it up,” she quipped, a bit too harshly, as she held her thumb and forefinger to her throat at the scratch of pain. “… I have things to attend to…”

“Yes, my lady.” the maids responded in tandem, squeezing poor Shera into a corset much too tight.

After they left, Shera picked up a shoe and threw it at the door, startling Moongeist. “Damned ptarmigans… clucking hens… when do they cease?” she groaned, patting the wolf on the head as he, ever dutifully, retrieved her shoe. “I’m… we’re the wolves— they’re supposed to be afraid of me.” she continued, as it usually went. She would whisper and murmur to herself (to Moongeist) while she readied herself. Sitting in front of the open window, her fingers deftly weaved through her auburn locks, working absentmindedly into a braid. She pinned the braid upon her head, glanced at the mirror, then unpinned it.

It became a back and forth task as she meticulously decided on a hairstyle— she wasn’t usually so vain, but apparently, Prince Jacaerys was arriving for a meeting. She’d spent some time with him the past few moons as they ‘courted’. He was polite, of course, and had grown into himself well since their childhood. But… Shera felt nothing for him, princely charm be damned. And she was increasingly sure he felt the same, more inclined to enjoy the company of Cregan rather than her.

But that was the way of the world, wasn’t it? To be trapped in a loveless box for titles, for armies and alliances, for oaths— that was fate. And fate… was usually unchanged. Shera oft cursed the Gods, the Old and the New, for weaving her tapestry of life in such a bereft and depressing manner. If she were to look upon it, it’d be dreary and uncouth, not fit to hang upon a wall, destined to rot and mold in a cellar for eternity.

But what did Shera know of love, anyhow. How could she— for who would love a banshee?

She settled on twin braids that settled upon her back, pinned up into two loops. Adjusting her veil in the mirror and assuring she wasn’t too visible, she made for the door, Moongeist pressed to her.

The winding halls of Winterfell had become second nature, muscle memory— but her mind wandered, imploring herself to think… Did she remember such paths at the Red Keep? She hoped her memory, if nothing else, would serve her well one day.

None of the denizens she passed by in the corridors spoke to her, only gave her stiff nods before avoiding her eye line. Was she such an abhorrent sight? Her heels clicked against the stone, fingertips skimming the walls as she stayed close to them, using the familiar winding gait to guide her to the Great Hall. Her stomach grumbled under her tight corset– she hadn’t even had time to break her fast before already being shoved to the dragon’s maw. She heard the whispers of the ‘dashing dragon prince’ arriving early, upon his dragon which was the color of a witch’s brew, green and sprightly. Shera couldn’t help but roll her eyes as she pushed the heavy oaken door to the hall.

Cregan was there, beard trimmed so as to not be unsightly, and laden in dark aurochs fur. Their ancestral weapon, Ice, was strapped to his back like a second spine, rigid and unyielding. He was faced towards the fire in the hearth, while Jacaerys was to his side, the two already deep in conversation.

The sound of the door opening was as good of an indication of her arrival as she would get, and they both turned to her in tandem. Jacaerys, gallant and princely as ever, rushed to her side, but not before stopping a few paces before, as Moongeist was pressed to her thigh with a wary look in his eye.

“My lady,” Jacaerys exclaimed, flashing his dazzling smile, his brown mop of curls bouncing as he approached, albeit cautiously. “You look radiant as ever.”

Shera’s brow rose from under her veil– her facial expressions were hardly seen, and she was able to give her unabashed reactions to things quite often. She was woe to master the art of masking, so she simply did not. He called her radiant– an alluring lie if she ever heard one, he couldn’t see her face, how could she possibly be radiant? She presumed his mother had been schooling him in the art of politics. That is what this is, isn’t it? It’s all just… politicking.

“My prince,” Shera responded softly, giving Moongeist an ever subtle command to sit to the side, allowing Jace to take her arm. She didn’t much like being touched by other people, it made her skin crawl, but she too needed to… continue the charade. “Thank you– you are quite early, I hope I look… presentable.”

“We were waiting for a bit, Shera,” Cregan commented offhandedly, cracking his knuckles slightly. He was a bit annoyed, she could tell. “But, ladies do take long to get ready, do they not, my prince?”

“It wasn’t a long wait, no worries,” Jace responded coolly. “But yes, it takes a small army and frequent turning of an hourglass for my mother to finally be ready, I imagine it’s similar for most ladies.”

Ah, yes. As if it doesn’t take Cregan an hour to pick out his furs for the day, pompous ass. And did Jacaerys don himself in that heavy dragonscale plated armor? Doubtful. Shera suppressed the urge to give an indignant huff. “My… deepest apologies,” she murmured. “I do hope my dear brother wasn’t such a terrible conversationalist.”

Cregan snorted as Jace guided Shera to her seat, pushing it in for her. “My mother– she wishes to meet you, of course,” Jacaerys prattled, scooting into the chair next to her (and Cregan). “We are going to go to the Queen for approval for the official betrothal… and subsequent wedding.”

Shera blinked slowly as she absorbed the information. She expected to have to meet Princess Rhaenyra at some point and for the Queen to become involved in the betrothal– but the wedding? Subsequent? The nail on her pointer finger dug into the nail bed of her thumb idly, picking, picking, picking as she mulled over her next words. “... will the wedding be soon, my prince?” she asked, sneaking a glance at Cregan, who had a glazed over look in his eye.

“... my mother wishes to secure the… union before her ascension, my lady.”

“The King is not yet dead– I don’t understand the rush.” Shera blurted out, her nail sinking deeper into her flesh. She felt like there was some sort of secret she was not a part of, some undisclosed plan that she wasn’t privy to Oh, yes, of course– she was just the pawn, wasn’t she?

“That is well and true– my grandsire, the King, has been in poorly health for the past few years. It is… only a matter of time.” Jace stammered, trying to regain the upper hand in the conversation.

“Rhaenyra’s ascension will happen sooner than later, Shera. It is only a wish that you and Jacaerys are well bonded by then, mayhaps even producing an heir.” Cregan interjected.

She wanted to vomit, she wanted to scream, she wanted to lash out at everyone– she was a vessel, a puppet for a greater vision of Westeros that nobody cared if she was specifically a part of– ‘twas only her luck she was the sister of the Warden of the North, who held an amassing army and ferocity for those he was bidden for. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Warmth spread onto her fingertip and Moongeist shuffled at her feet, a low whine coming from the back of his throat. She felt such a rage come over her for a split second, her vision blurring as she felt the overwhelming need to sink her teeth into someone and make them feel her despair.

“Okay.” she finally said, her voice sounding far away and small, as if it wasn’t even hers.

Jacaerys and Cregan conversated further while Shera stared off into some small point in the distance until her eyes watered from not blinking, blood pooling and staining against her nails.

“Thank you. I must break my fast now,” Shera suddenly spoke up, not caring if the two of them were in the middle of a conversation. “We will leave within a fortnight.”

The journey from the hall back to her room was a blur, she remembers curtsying to Jacaerys and bidding him goodbye and some other innocuous pleasantries. Sitting back at her desk, she tore off her veil in frustration, bracelets and earrings alike jingling. She put her head in her hands, feeling the all too familiar ache of tears building.

She didn’t want to go— why did she have to be married? Why was it her destiny to be a pawn? To be a wife? Especially to someone who was there. Her throat clenched as she tried to hold back the tears— to no avail. They burned and stung, her already tender demeanor withering.

Prying her hands away, she looked over her desk. It was strewn with miscellaneous books to which she struggled to read, along with some half-done charcoal sketches of prospective sewing projects. Shera wasn’t known for outbursts, as her quiet and ghostly prefecture was one that stayed in the background of things. But, she felt a roiling in her stomach, wrought over like forged castle steel, molten and aching and hot— it burned in her like a plague, working its way through her and exiting her body in the form of a wail, coupled with her arms sweeping off the contents of her desk to the floor.

The momentary feeling of anguish subsided as soon as it came and her throat ached from her cry. Her eyes felt heavy as she tried to get up and subsequently failed, sinking to the ground like a discarded rag. Moongeist let out a whine, propping his head under Shera’s arm, having her rest some of her weight upon him.

“I’m pathetic, my love,” she whispered, feeling all the part of a fallen porcelain doll, placated on her bottom upon the floor, legs out in front of her as if she were a child on a playroom floor. “Nothing like the Winter Kings of yore. I’m sorry.” Shera’s thumb rubbed on the wolf’s ear as she wallowed momentarily in self-pity and self-loathing.

Gathering some strength, she pushed the papers below her desk to the side. The sweeping motion befell something new— no, not new. ‘Twas old, upon inspection. It was a stack of letters, covered in dust now, but neatly tied together with wool twine. Unveiling one, she skimmed it over to the best of her ability.

Dearest Shera,

It isn’t the same without you here. My head hurts all of the time, I keep bumping into things and I can scarcely write. In fact, I am having Helaena pen this to you right now. She says hello.

Mother is in shambles, frayed at the ends like your old blue dinner dress. Her and grandsire are constantly whispering and she cries more often. I think she misses you.

As does Helaena. As do I. Mayhaps even Aegon.

Does your head hurt as well? What do you do to help with the pain? Are you able to walk without bumping into things?

I hope to hear from you soon.

Best,

Aemond Targaryen

That had been the first letter sent to her from King’s Landing— Cregan, to his own dismay, sat down and read it to her after she had spinned herself into a crying fit, sending the maesters into a tizzy as she threatened to reopen the stitches upon her throat.

In her poppy-addled young mind, she hadn’t recognized that it was not Aemond’s writing or words, but most definitely Helaena’s, as the letter Shera sent back were those of Cregan, and not hers.

Prince Aemond,

It is an honor to hear from you. I’m recovering quite well, at the behest of my brother. Winterfell is very different from the South, but I am finally finding my footing here in the cold.

I have been a wolf at heart this entire time, like my forefathers.

My ability to walk has been improving, as the maesters here are excellently equipped for such a feat.

It is my hope that we can both find a sense of normalcy in our lives once more.

I wish you well.

Regards,

Shera Stark

She’d hardly remembered when Cregan read it aloud, and she didn’t catch the cold, rigid wording, bereft of any warmth and camaraderie that she would have included. Truth be told, at the time of it being written, Shera couldn’t even hold her own spoon to sip at bone broth, much less walk.

It was unclear to her still, to this day, why Cregan felt the need to lie about her condition— but it was apparently a well placed one, as the next letter to come was in another tone all together. It was about three moons afterward, and the handwriting was different. It was a bit shaky, but proper and dignified.

Lady Stark,

I am most gracious for your reply. It is a balm to the Queen to hear you are doing well.

Let us both hope we are well on the road to our full recoveries.

Stay warm.

Signed,

Prince Aemond Targaryen

Shera’s fingers traced over the letter, she could still recognize it as Aemond’s handwriting— but the tone seemed clipped and cold, colder than even Cregan’s letter was.

There were a few more envelopes in the stack, but if she remembered correctly, there was nothing of substance. Her chest ached occasionally when she thought about it all— did Aemond think of her still? Or was she just a silly footnote in his life? She abhorred to admit to herself, much less anyone else, that she still did. Aemond Targaryen still had a place in her mind, an undeterred host in the recesses of her brain that she couldn’t rid herself of— if she even wanted to. She wondered what he looked like now. Was he finally as tall as Aegon, mayhaps more? Did he finally get his hands upon the book he had been wanting to read? She hoped he spent his days flying upon Vhagar’s back— a gift that he had paid the price for.

She did as well. But her price wasn’t for Vhagar. It was for Aemond.

Her throat burned and constricted with the threat of tears once more as she pulled herself from the floor, Moongeist’s body pressed to her hip to guide her. Padding to the fireplace, which was nursing a few hot coals and sparse flame, she fed the letters into the fire one by one. The flames grew as they burned, the ink upon the pages fettering into nothing but ash and sickly memory.

Were they strangers now?

Does he remember her?

… why does she still wish to see him?

A wolf travels south at the behest of one dragon– but her mind upon another.

How sordid.

#aemond fic #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #house of the dragon aemond #prince aemond #aemond one eye #hotd fanfic #aemond fanfic #aemond fandom #my writing #banshees lament #aemond targaryen smut #aemond smut #hotd #house of the dragon #aemond x original female character #aemond x ofc

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