🌙✨ Obey Me! Cute fanfic/story — The Brothers During a Power Outage ⚡🕯️
Hello everyone! 💜
I'm back with another Obey Me! post, and this is actually the third time I've posted for this fandom here on Tumblr. Honestly, this entire fanfiction/story was inspired by a dream I had recently, and the idea refused to leave my brain afterward.
The concept is simple: What would happen if the House of Lamentation suddenly lost power for a few hours?
No grand battles. No world-ending threats. No RAD drama.
Just seven demon brothers, a blackout, candlelight, and us/readers.
I wanted to explore how each brother would react when all their usual comforts and distractions disappeared for a while. Some reactions are chaotic (looking at you, Mammon), some are surprisingly sweet, and some reveal softer sides that we don't always get to see.
As always, I tried to keep everyone's personalities as close to canon as possible while adding some cozy domestic fluff and emotional moments. 💕
⚠️ Warnings:
• Fluff • long ass story/fiction • Domestic Fanfiction • Mild emotional themes • Slight hurt/comfort • Protective behavior from the brothers • Darkness / power outage setting • Established relationship vibes with us/reader • Very long post • Canon-typical sibling bickering • No major spoilers
I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. And if you've ever wondered which brother you'd spend a Devildom blackout with... well, now's your chance to find out. 🕯️🦇
Fandom: @obeyme
This is for you, sweetie: @cursedcupcakemaster
Enjoy! ✨
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The night began just like any other in the House of Lamentation. The grand, ancient halls hummed with a constant, soft rhythm of magic and electricity, a steady pulse that had kept the manor comfortable and bright for hundreds of years. Warm golden light spilled from beneath every door, stretching across the polished stone floors and mixing with the faint, silvery‑blue glow of Devildom moonlight filtering through tall, narrow windows set high in the walls. Down the long corridors, each brother was lost in his own separate world, wrapped up in his usual routines and thoughts, unaware that everything was about to shift.
Behind the heavy oak door of his study, Lucifer sat upright behind his massive desk, surrounded by mountains of paperwork, official reports, and lesson plans that seemed to multiply no matter how many he signed. The air smelled of old parchment, ink, and sandalwood, lit by the soft glow of crystal chandeliers and floating enchanted candles. He moved with practiced ease, his red eyes focused and sharp, his pen gliding across the page in neat, precise strokes. It was a quiet, orderly night — exactly the way he preferred things to be.
A few doors down, in a room filled with neon posters, stacked gadgets, and piles of clothes, Mammon lay sprawled across his bed, propped up on one elbow. His phone was bright in his hands, the screen lighting up his face as he scrolled through listings, counted his Grimm savings, and plotted his next big money‑making scheme. Every now and then he would mutter to himself, grin at a good deal, or groan when he saw something he wanted but couldn’t quite afford. For him, the hum of the house was just background noise, something he barely noticed until it was gone.
Further along the hall, Leviathan’s room was a world of its own, sealed tight against the outside. The walls were lined with shelves holding hundreds of games, manga volumes, and carefully arranged collectible figures, while large LED strips cast shades of blue and purple across the room. The soft, rippling glow of his giant aquarium filled the space with calm, underwater light. Levi sat cross‑legged on the floor, controller gripped firmly in both hands, eyes fixed on the large screen in front of him. He was deep in the final chapter of a limited‑edition game he’d waited months to play, completely absorbed in the story and the music.
In the quiet, book‑lined space down the corridor, Satan was curled up in his favorite leather armchair, a thick, leather‑bound history book open across his lap. The warm light of brass lamps fell over the pages, and the air held the scent of paper, dried herbs, and wood polish. He turned each page slowly, reading with deep interest, his mind wandering through ancient tales and forgotten knowledge. For him, the night was peaceful, perfect for losing himself in words and thought.
Across the way, Asmodeus’s room glowed like a soft, warm sanctuary. Strings of fairy lights hung above his vanity, where large mirrors reflected the light, and bottles of perfume, creams, and skincare products were arranged in neat rows. He sat in front of it, brushing his hair and applying lotions, humming a cheerful tune under his breath. The air smelled of rose, jasmine, and vanilla, and every little device hummed softly, keeping the room warm and comfortable. He took great pride in his routine, enjoying every moment of care and relaxation.
Downstairs, in the large, warm kitchen, Beelzebub stood waiting patiently. The overhead lights cast a bright, steady glow over the counters, and the soft hum of the microwave filled the air as it heated up his late‑night snack — a large bowl of pasta, some roasted meat, and a plate of fruit, just enough to take the edge off his hunger before sleep. He leaned against the counter, his large frame relaxed, watching the light inside the machine turn slowly. His stomach gave a quiet, familiar rumble, and he smiled to himself, already looking forward to the warm, satisfying meal waiting for him.
And in the room he shared with his twin, Belphegor was already half‑buried under a mountain of soft blankets and fluffy pillows. Heavy blackout curtains covered the windows, keeping the room dim and cozy, lit only by a small bedside lamp and the gentle whir of the standing fan, moving cool air across the bed. Belphie lay curled on his side, eyes already closed, breathing slow and steady, drifting in and out of light sleep. Beel had left the lamp on low and the fan running just for him, knowing how much he hated heat and brightness. For Belphie, this was the best part of the night — quiet, still, and completely undisturbed.
Then, without warning — click.
Every light in the entire manor died at once. The screens went instantly black, the hum of refrigerators, heaters, and fans vanished, the gentle flicker of magical lamps faded out, and the whole building was swallowed by a darkness far deeper and heavier than anything you could ever experience. It was thick and quiet, pressing in from all sides, and in the sudden silence, even the smallest sound seemed louder than before. In the Devildom, power outages are rare — usually caused by sudden surges in magical energy or shifting weather patterns in the lower realms, where storms can stir up currents that interfere with the manor’s systems. For demons who have grown used to centuries of comfort, endless light, and instant magic, this sudden shift stripped away their usual masks, habits, and distractions. Left with nothing but their own instincts and each other, their true selves came to the surface — and in the quiet, dark stillness, every one of them reacted in their own way.
From Lucifer’s perspective, the change was almost immediate. One moment, the room was bright and clear; the next, the light dimmed, and the familiar low hum of energy running through the walls cut off completely. He didn’t jump, didn’t gasp, didn’t make a sound. Instead, he sat up a little straighter, his pen freezing mid‑sentence, his senses instantly sharpening. He could feel the shift in the air — a subtle change in the flow of magic, a slight drop in temperature, the way the shadows seemed to stretch longer and deeper. Even before his eyes adjusted, he already knew what had happened. A power fluctuation, likely a surge in the magical currents running beneath the House of Lamentation. It was rare, but not unheard of. He let out a soft, quiet sigh, closing the folder in front of him. 'Typical of this realm — always so unpredictable' , he thought. But there was no panic in him, only a calm sense of responsibility. He knew exactly what to do, and already his mind was turning to the rest of the house, wondering how each of his brothers would handle this sudden darkness.
From Mammon’s side of the door, the change hit like a shock. One second, his phone was glowing bright in his hands, and the next, the screen went completely dark, leaving him staring at nothing. The lights overhead and along the walls died out too, plunging the room into deep shadow. He yelped loud enough to make the paintings on the walls rattle, sitting up so fast he nearly fell off the bed. “HEY?! What the hell just happened?! Did the whole place die?!” he shouted, waving his arms wildly in front of him, knocking into a stack of magazines and sending them sliding across the floor. His heart began to beat faster, not because he was truly afraid — or so he told himself — but because the sudden darkness felt wrong, unnatural. He couldn’t see where his things were, couldn’t check his balance, couldn’t even make out the furniture. “Did someone curse this place? Did one of those idiots do this just to mess with me?!” he called out into the blackness, his voice rising higher, already thinking of all the things he might lose or break if he couldn’t see properly.
For Leviathan, it felt like his world had suddenly gone silent. The screen in front of him faded to black, the soft blue glow of the aquarium dimmed until only faint shapes could be seen, and the hum of the filters and the lights stopped completely. He froze, controller still gripped so tightly his knuckles turned white, his breath catching in his throat. “No… no way! This can’t be happening!” he whispered, his voice trembling. He’d been so close to beating the final boss, so close to saving his progress — and now everything was gone. Worse, the aquarium was no longer circulating, and his collection of figures and games were hidden in the dark. The room had no windows, no other source of light, and suddenly it felt smaller, tighter, like the walls were closing in. He hated feeling trapped, hated not being able to see everything he loved. His mind raced, full of worst‑case scenarios, and he found himself curled a little tighter, unsure whether to move or stay still.
From where he sat in his armchair, Satan noticed the change with quiet observation. The light from his lamps softened and then vanished, leaving only the faint glow of moonlight through the curtains, and the room fell into deep shadow. He lifted his gaze slowly from his book, marking his page with a leather bookmark, and tilted his head slightly, listening carefully. The silence that followed was different from the usual quiet of the night — it was empty, missing the constant background hum of magic and electricity. “A power fluctuation,” he said softly to himself, his voice calm and steady. “Magical interference, most likely.” He didn’t feel surprised or annoyed, not yet. It was an inconvenience, certainly, but nothing dangerous. He sat for a moment longer, letting his eyes adjust, his mind already thinking of the candles and oil lamps he kept stored away for exactly such moments. He also wondered how his brothers would react — Mammon would surely make a scene, Levi would panic, and Asmodeus would probably complain loudly. It would be interesting, in its own way.
Asmodeus, meanwhile, reacted with dramatic dismay. The bright lights above his vanity went out, the mirrors lost their shine, and the warm glow from his skincare devices and scented lamps vanished all at once. The room cooled down quickly, and he gasped, clutching his chest as if he’d been struck. “Oh no! This is a disaster!” he cried, his voice high and worried. “My lights! My mirrors! How am I supposed to look after myself in the dark?!” He raised his hands carefully, afraid to bump into anything, his eyes wide even though there was little to see. He’d worked so hard to keep his routine perfect, and now everything was interrupted. “I might ruin my beautiful things! I might bump into something and hurt myself!” he went on, though even as he complained, he was already moving slowly and carefully, searching the surface of his vanity for the emergency candles he kept tucked away in a drawer. It was annoying, certainly, but he told himself it was only temporary.
Down in the kitchen, Beelzebub stood still, blinking in confusion as the lights died and the microwave fell silent. The warm glow through its door faded, and the hum that had filled the air stopped abruptly. He looked down at the machine, then around the room, which was now lit only by the smallest sliver of moonlight coming through the high window. “The lights… and the food is getting cold,” he said softly, his voice deep and a little disappointed. He opened the microwave door just to check, and sure enough, the pasta was still warm but cooling fast, no longer being heated. His stomach gave a louder, more insistent rumble, and he sighed, though he didn’t feel angry — just a little let down. He turned toward the fridge, but its light was gone too, and he couldn’t see inside clearly. He stood there for a moment, listening to the sudden quiet, wondering if everyone else in the house was noticing the same thing. If the power stayed off too long, all the food in the kitchen would go bad, and that was a serious concern. But for now, he just waited, large hands resting on the counter, his senses alert to the sounds of the house.
And in the room upstairs, Belphegor stirred with a grumpy groan as the darkness grew deeper. The small lamp beside the bed went out, and the steady whir of the fan stopped completely, leaving the air still and warm. He shifted under the blankets, pulling them higher over his head, his face scrunching up in annoyance. “Ugh… why’s it getting darker? And the fan stopped too. It’s stuffy now,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. He’d been drifting off so nicely, warm and comfortable, and now everything felt wrong. He rolled over onto his other side, eyes still closed, already ready to fall back asleep if he could. “Can’t anything stay the way it’s supposed to be?” he complained quietly, though he didn’t move to get up or turn anything on. For him, darkness wasn’t scary — it was the interruption to his rest that bothered him. He could hear faint sounds from other parts of the house, voices and movement, but he ignored them, trying to pull himself back into sleep, even as the room grew darker and quieter around him.
And so, in every room of the manor, the same event was felt and seen, but through different eyes, different thoughts, and different hearts. The darkness hung heavy and still, but as the first moments of surprise passed, each brother began to adjust, to reach for what they needed, and to remember that even in the deepest dark, they were not alone. The House of Lamentation had gone quiet, but it was far from empty — and this unexpected break from the usual routine would soon reveal sides of them that rarely came out when the lights were bright.
Meanwhile, on the other hand, there's you...
From where you stood in the central hallway, the sudden shift felt almost tangible. One moment you were walking through familiar, well‑lit corridors, and the next you were wrapped in a darkness so thick it seemed to swallow the sound of your own breathing. Your heart gave a small, quick flutter — this was not the gentle night you knew back home, but something older, heavier, filled with the strange, quiet energy of the Devildom. You could hear voices calling out from behind closed doors, some sharp with surprise, others thick with annoyance, and a few edged with real worry.
You remembered that you had kept a small, enchanted lantern in your own room, just in case, and you hurried back to fetch it. When you lit it, the soft golden glow felt like a lifeline, pushing back the shadows just enough to let you see where you stepped. Now you had a choice: you could wander through the halls, checking on each brother one by one, and decide which of them you wanted to stay with through the rest of this quiet, unusual night. Each part of the house held its own atmosphere, and each brother would welcome you in his own way — if you chose to go to him.
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♡ Who would you like to spend the day with? Choose one of the brothers and enjoy a special moment together. ♡
You start walking slowly down the hall, the lantern casting dancing shapes on the stone walls, listening carefully to the sounds coming from behind every door. This is your chance to choose where to go — and who to spend the dark hours with?
If you choose to go find Lucifer~
You make your way toward the far end of the corridor, where the heavy oak door of his study stands slightly ajar. Even in the surrounding darkness, you can feel his presence — calm, steady, and unshakable, like the foundation of the entire manor. When you push the door open and step inside, you find the room already filled with a warm, gentle glow from several thick, beeswax candles he has lit and placed carefully around the space. The flickering light softens the sharp edges of the furniture, turning the usually formal room into something much cozier and more intimate.
He looks up from where he stands beside his large desk, and the moment his red eyes land on you, the faint tension in his shoulders melts away just a little. “I thought it would not be long before you came,” he says, his voice low, smooth, and completely free of panic. “In this kind of darkness, it is far safer not to wander the halls alone — the shadows here are not quite the same as the ones you know back home.”
He gestures for you to come closer, and as you do, his gaze sweeps over you briefly but thoroughly, checking to make sure you are unhurt, unafraid, and still warm. When he sees the small enchanted lantern in your hand, a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Prepared as well — good thinking.”
He pulls out the most comfortable armchair from the corner and positions it right beside his own, then reaches for a heavy, soft wool blanket and drapes it carefully over your shoulders, tucking it in around your arms. “The air grows cooler when the magical currents settle,” he explains, his tone gentle but sure. “There is no need to feel uneasy. This house has stood through storms, magical surges, and far worse disturbances over the centuries. A simple power outage will not harm it — or you.”
Without the usual mountain of paperwork to occupy him, there is a rare, quiet stillness between you. He leans back in his chair, resting his hands loosely on the armrests, and for the first time in a long while, he looks completely relaxed. He asks you softly how you are feeling, listens with full attention to every word you say, and then reaches over to pour you a steaming cup of herbal tea he brewed earlier over a small portable flame. The scent of chamomile and honey fills the air, warming you from the inside out.
As you sit together, he speaks more openly than usual — telling you little stories about the history of the manor, how things used to be when magic was the only source of light, and even admitting that sometimes, the quiet without all the noise and brightness can be rather pleasant. He stays close, his presence a constant reassurance, and every now and then his hand will brush lightly against yours on the armrest, just to remind you he is there. For the rest of the time you stay, the room feels like a little safe haven — quiet, warm, and so steady that even the deepest shadows outside the door feel like nothing to fear.
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If you choose to go find Mammon~
You follow the sound of loud, frustrated muttering and the occasional soft clatter until you reach his door. “Stupid lights! Stupid old house! Why’d this have to happen right now?!” you hear him grumble, followed by the sound of something soft hitting the floor. You knock once before pushing the door open, and the moment the warm glow from your lantern spills into the room, he freezes mid‑motion, looking startled — then quickly scrambles to try and act as if he had everything perfectly under control.
“MC?! Is that really you?!” he calls out, stumbling toward you with long, hurried steps before you can even take another foot inside. The second he reaches you, his hand wraps firmly around yours, his grip warm and just a little shaky, though he tries his best to hide it. “I‑I wasn’t scared or anything! The Great Mammon can handle the dark just fine, y’know! I was just… making sure you didn’t go wandering around and get lost or hurt! Humans are fragile in places like this, after all!”
He pulls you carefully further into the room, guiding you around piles of hoodies, scattered magazines, and charging cables, his other hand resting lightly on your shoulder to steady you. When you both reach his bed, he sits you down gently and immediately settles right beside you, pressing close enough that you can feel the warmth of his body against yours.
As your lantern lights up the space, you can see the small mess he made while trying to find his way around, but he barely glances at it now that you are here. He keeps one arm wrapped securely around your shoulders, as if he could shield you from the darkness itself, and starts talking nonstop — telling you all kinds of stories, bragging about his best money‑making plans, complaining loudly about how annoying his brothers can be, and even sharing silly, embarrassing memories from centuries ago. He talks so much just to fill the silence, but deep down, he is only doing it to calm his own nerves and make sure you don’t feel afraid.
Every few seconds, he glances down at you quickly, his eyes softening when he sees you are alright, and his hand never loosens its hold on yours. After a while, his voice slows down, and he leans his head gently against yours, his voice turning quieter and more sincere. “Y’know… I’m really glad you came here first. I thought I’d be stuck alone in the dark, and that’s no fun at all. But with you here… it doesn’t feel scary anymore. It actually feels… nice.” In his room, the dark stops feeling like something to be afraid of and turns into the perfect excuse to stay pressed close together, safe and warm.
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If you choose to go find Leviathan~
You walk toward the far end of the hall, where the door is always kept tightly shut. From inside, you hear the sound of nervous rustling and a quiet, anxious whisper. “No… please don’t let anything break… don’t let anything fall…” You knock softly, and the sound stops immediately.
“Levi? It’s me, MC,” you call out gently, keeping your voice calm and warm.
There is a moment of silence, then the lock clicks open, and the door cracks just wide enough for you to slip inside. The room is pitch black except for the soft, golden glow of your lantern, and you can feel how closed‑in and quiet it feels without the usual hum of screens, lights, and aquarium filters. He is huddled near the wall, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees, and when he lifts his head and sees you standing there, his large eyes go wide with pure relief.
“Y‑you actually came… I thought I’d be stuck here all alone, knocking everything over and ruining my collection…” he stammers, his voice trembling slightly. He moves toward you quickly, his hands brushing lightly against your arm and shoulder just to confirm that you are really there and not just a trick of the dark.
When you set your lantern carefully on top of the highest shelf, the light spreads softly and reflects across the surface of his large aquarium, turning the water into shifting patterns of silver and pale blue. He sits down right beside you, pressing his shoulder firmly against yours, and slowly, his breathing begins to steady. Without his screens, games, or manga to distract him, he talks more openly and honestly than he ever does when the lights are bright.
He tells you how the dark always makes him feel trapped, how he worries constantly about his most precious things, and how he hates feeling like he can’t see what is around him. But as he speaks, his voice grows softer and warmer, and he leans his head gently against your shoulder. “It’s like… one of those quiet, cozy scenes in my favorite anime, right? The kind where everything is calm and you’re not alone. Except this one is real. And it’s not scary at all when you’re here. In fact… it feels kind of perfect.”
You stay there together, watching the light dance on the water, and he even shows you his favorite figures by the glow of the lantern, pointing out details he usually rambles about for hours but now explains in a quiet, gentle tone. For the first time, he doesn’t feel like the “lonely shut‑in” — he just feels like someone who finally has exactly the company he needs.
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If you choose to go find Satan~
You head toward the wing where the rooms are lined from floor to ceiling with bookshelves, and even before you open the door, you can smell the familiar, comforting scent of old paper, leather bindings, and dried herbs. When you step inside, you find that he has already lit several tall oil lamps, their warm golden glow wrapping around the rows of books and turning the whole room into a soft, inviting sanctuary.
He stands near the window, listening to the quiet of the house, and turns to you with a calm, composed expression the moment you enter, a small, easy smile playing on his lips. “I was wondering when you would make your way around. You have absolutely nothing to fear here — I made sure of that long before you arrived.”
He gestures for you to sit on the large, plush velvet sofa near the center of the room, and immediately brings over a thick, knitted blanket to wrap around your legs and shoulders, tucking it in neatly. “Darkness is only the absence of light, nothing more,” he explains, his voice steady, deep, and reassuring. “It holds no power over those who understand it. It is just another part of nature, just like day or night.”
Since he cannot read properly in the flickering glow, he does something he rarely takes the time to do: he sits right beside you, close enough that your knees touch, and begins to speak. He tells you ancient legends from the Devildom — stories of how darkness was once seen as a time for rest, reflection, and listening, not fear; tales of stars that fell to earth, and how the quiet hours were used to hear the whispers of magic itself.
As he talks, his voice grows softer and more melodic, and he leans in just a little closer, his green eyes warm and thoughtful as they look into yours. He explains how when everything is bright and busy, you only see the surface of things, but when it is dark, you notice the smaller, more meaningful details — the sound of a heartbeat, the warmth of a hand, the way silence can feel like comfort.
After a while, he reaches out and brushes a stray lock of hair gently away from your face, his touch light and careful. “I must admit, I thought this would be nothing but an inconvenience. But having you here, sharing this quiet time… it is far more pleasant than I expected.” Staying here feels like being wrapped inside the pages of a gentle, beautiful story — peaceful, safe, and filled with wisdom and warmth.
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If you choose to go find Asmodeus~
You walk toward the room that usually smells of fresh flowers and sweet lotions, and as you get closer, you hear a dramatic sigh followed by soft, careful rustling. “Oh, this is just terrible… how am I supposed to do anything or look after myself without proper light?” You knock gently, and the door swings open almost instantly, as if he had been waiting right there for someone to come.
The moment the soft glow from your lantern touches his face, his expression shifts from worry to pure delight. “MC! There you are! I was just thinking how much I needed someone lovely and wonderful to keep me company while all this chaos lasts!” He pulls you quickly inside, guiding you carefully so you don’t bump into his bottles of perfume or skincare products, and helps you light the extra candles he had been searching for. Soon the whole room is filled with warm, dancing light and the sweet scent of rose, jasmine, and vanilla.
He leads you over to his soft, large bed, sits you down comfortably among the pillows, and immediately begins to fuss over you — adjusting your blanket, brushing a stray hair from your face, and checking that you are warm and relaxed. “You know, it’s quite strange,” he says, his bright tone turning softer and far more sincere than usual. “When everything is bright and shiny, we only look at what we want to see, or what we think looks good. But in the dark, all the noise and extra decoration fades away, and we notice the things that really count.”
He takes your hand gently in his, his fingers soft and warm, and brings it close to his cheek. “We notice how warm a hand feels, how nice a voice sounds without distractions, how safe it feels just to be near someone. And you know what? Even without all the lights and mirrors, even in the deepest shadows… you are still the most beautiful, lovely thing in this whole room — no, in the entire Devildom.”
He rests his head gently against your shoulder, wrapping his arms loosely but securely around yours, and begins to hum a soft, sweet melody. Every now and then he will lift your hand to press a light, gentle kiss to your knuckles, his touch tender and full of affection. “Thank you for choosing to stay with me. This dark night feels like a little gift now, just because you are here.”
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If you choose to go find Beelzebub~
You make your way down the wide staircase toward the kitchen, where you hear a low, calm voice and the soft sound of things being moved very carefully. When you push open the heavy wooden door, the light from your lantern fills the large space, and you see him standing near the counter, looking at the dark microwave and silent fridge with a slightly disappointed but understanding expression.
He turns toward you the second he hears your footsteps, and his whole face lights up instantly, his eyes warm and kind. “MC? Are you alright? It’s darker down here, and there are more things around — be careful where you step.” He steps forward quickly to guide you away from sharp edges and loose baskets, his large hand resting gently on your arm to keep you steady. “My food got cold, but that’s not important right now. You are far more important than any meal.”
He walks over to the soft rug in the center of the room, sits down cross‑legged, and opens his large arms wide, giving you a gentle, welcoming smile. “Come here. It’s colder without the heaters and lights, but I’m always warm. I can keep you warm enough for both of us.”
When you sit down and lean against him, he wraps his strong, broad arms around you completely, pulling you close against his chest. His body heat wraps around you like a thick, natural blanket, and you can feel his steady, strong heartbeat right beneath your ear, slow and reassuring. He rests his chin lightly on top of your head, breathing in softly, and for a moment he just holds you there, content and quiet.
After a little while, he reaches into the pocket of his pants and pulls out a small, wrapped piece of candied fruit he had saved earlier, holding it up carefully to your lips. “It’s not much, and it’s not warm anymore, but it’s still sweet. We can eat properly again once the power comes back on, but for now… let’s share this.”
As you stay there, it feels exactly like sitting beside a living fireplace — solid, strong, and completely safe. He doesn’t need many words to show how he feels; every gentle squeeze of his arms, every soft breath, and the way he holds you just a little closer whenever you shift tells you clearly that he is so glad you chose to be right here with him.
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If you choose to go find Belphegor~
You head up the stairs toward the room he shares with Beel, and when you open the door, it feels even darker and cozier than anywhere else in the house — heavy blackout curtains cover the windows, and the air is soft and warm, filled with the scent of clean sheets and lavender. You hear a low, sleepy grumble coming from the middle of the large bed, and as you lift your lantern, you see him lying there, half‑buried under mountains of fluffy blankets and pillows, looking annoyed but barely awake.
“Ugh… who is it? If it’s Lucifer coming to yell or tell me to do something, I’m not listening,” he mumbles, lifting his head just enough to squint toward the light. But the moment his blurry eyes focus and recognize you, his expression changes instantly — all the irritation melts away, replaced by a soft, sleepy look of relief and something warmer. “Oh… it’s you. Good. You can come in.”
He shifts over lazily, pulling the thick covers back to make plenty of space right beside him. “Come here. It’s nice and warm under these blankets, even if the whole room is dark.”
You set your lantern on the nightstand, turning its glow down low so it won’t hurt his eyes or disturb the quiet, and climb into the bed beside him. Before you can even settle in comfortably, he pulls you close, wrapping both his strong arms and his long, fluffy tail around you, holding you firmly and securely against his chest. He tucks the blankets around your back and shoulders, making sure no cold air can reach you.
“The dark isn’t bad at all,” he murmurs, his voice thick and drowsy, brushing right against your ear. “No one can see us, no one can call us to work, no one can make noise or tell us what to do. It’s just us. Finally.”
He starts running his fingers slowly and rhythmically up and down your back, a gentle, soothing motion that he has used for centuries to calm himself and others. Soon he begins to hum a soft, quiet lullaby — an old, wordless tune that feels like a warm hug all on its own. “You chose to stay here with me… that’s really nice of you. Don’t go wandering off anywhere, okay? Just stay right here. You’re safe, and I’m not letting go.”
In the dim, soft warmth of his bed, wrapped in his arms and the quiet of the night, you find yourself feeling more relaxed and peaceful than anywhere else in the entire manor. Even in the dark, you feel completely protected, and you know that as long as he is holding you, nothing can disturb this quiet, special moment.
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After about thirty minutes, Lucifer decides it is better to gather everyone in one place than let them stay scattered and alone. He walks through the house, lighting tall standing lanterns and hanging magical candles along the walls, until the grand main hall is filled with a soft, golden glow that feels warmer and more intimate than any electric light.
One by one, the brothers arrive, each bringing their own little mood and habit:
- Mammon complains loudly the whole time about how much trouble this is, but he never lets go of your hand, even when he’s arguing with Levi or grumbling to Lucifer.
- Satan and Lucifer stand near the fireplace, discussing the possible cause of the outage in quiet, serious tones, but every few minutes, their eyes drift toward you to make sure you are comfortable and safe.
- Asmodeus passes around warm blankets and cups of spiced cider, making sure no one feels cold or left out, even when he’s still a little annoyed about his interrupted routine.
- Beel sits cross‑legged on the floor, his stomach growling softly every few minutes, but he smiles whenever you look his way and offers you any snacks he managed to save.
- Levi stays pressed close to the wall, feeling safer in the crowd, but his gaze keeps finding yours, as if checking that you haven’t disappeared.
- Belphegor leans heavily against Beel’s shoulder, half‑asleep already, but still keeps his fingers loosely tangled with yours, even in his drowsy state.
For the first time all night, there is no work, no games, no vanity, no pride, no greed, and no rivalry. There is only the soft flicker of candlelight, the quiet sound of breathing and low conversation, and the simple comfort of being together.
And about two hours later, the darkness suddenly lifts. The lights flicker once, twice, and then blaze back to full brightness all at once, flooding the hall with familiar electric light. The hum of electricity returns — fridges humming, heaters warming, screens lighting up, fans turning, and the whole house snapping back into its usual, busy rhythm.
Everyone reacts in their own way:
- Lucifer lets out a long, relieved breath, blowing out the candles one by one. “Good. Everything is back to normal. We can return to our routines now.”
- Mammon throws his hands up in relief. “Finally! I thought we’d be stuck in the dark forever! My eyes were starting to get used to it — and that’s not a good thing!”
- Levi is already sprinting toward his room, yelling over his shoulder, “I have to check my game progress and make sure the aquarium is okay! Don’t anyone follow me!”
- Satan walks over to the windows and pulls back the heavy curtains, letting the Devildom moonlight mix with the indoor light. “Order restored. Though I must admit, it was not as terrible as I expected.”
- Asmodeus hurries back to his own room, calling out happily, “There we go! Back to comfort and beauty! I can’t wait to fix my routine again!”
- Beel heads straight for the kitchen, already thinking about what he can reheat or cook fresh now that the power is on. “Time to eat properly again.”
- Belphegor only grumbles, pulling a pillow over his face to block out the sudden brightness. “Too bright… turn some of them off… I was sleeping just fine before…”
The power outage was short, lasting only a couple of hours, but it left a quiet, lasting mark on every one of them. In the dark, without their usual distractions, they couldn’t hide behind their titles, their wealth, their hobbies, or their pride. They were just seven brothers — and you — sharing the same quiet, uncertain moment.
Later, when everything is back to normal and the house has returned to its usual busy noise, each of them finds themselves thinking the same thing, even if they won’t say it out loud:
“That wasn’t so bad after all. Being in the dark, away from everything, no duties, no games, no show… just sitting close, feeling warm, and knowing MC is right there beside me… it felt safer, warmer, and more like home than all the bright lights and magic in the whole Devildom ever could.”
And for a long time after, whenever the lights go out — even for just a second — each of them will instinctively reach for you, just to make sure you are still there.
End~~~
