“Your face is red, oh, girl, don't be embarrassed. Forget what the psychic said, let's make out like newlyweds”
Synopsis // When you’re roped into yet another one of the Avatar of Greed’s half baked schemes, you find yourself liking playing the part of his ‘wife’ - almost a little too much.
If the bright, burning white of the studio lights weren't enough to make you uncomfortable, perhaps the large, very enthusiastic studio audience was enough to get you there. The wide, borderline creepy smile of the host does nothing to settle your nerves as he gets in your face and asks you questions you have to pretend to know the answer to, and the stares of the other couples on the sound stage made you shift uncomfortably in your chair.
Perhaps this would all bother you immensely - if not for the second born's hand in your own, his wedding ring proudly displayed. The smile he throws out to the audience could blind in comparison to the set you found yourself on together - his grin rivaling that of the host. The stares don't seem to bother him as he confidently answers another question regarding your recently finalized matrimony. His charm turned up to ten was enough to distract you from the situation you were in. He was so bold, so sure of himself, that you almost let yourself believe in the narrative he was spouting whenever it was his turn to answer.
There was only one problem -
You and Mammon are not married.
You're not even engaged.
You're not even together.
"MC...", his voice addresses you with a nervous tinge you hadn't yet heard from him tonight. His hand squeezing your own was enough to jostle you from your twilight stupor.
"Huh?!", you react, snapping out of your trance, realizing the host had moved on from him, instead asking you questions.
The host readjusts the gaudy collar of his sparkling suit and clears his throat to reiterate himself. "MC, your question is... What was the first movie date you went on together?".
You thanked whatever cosmic force was watching that you were handed a softball of a question this round. Your eyes meet Mammon's, searching for confirmation. He finishes writing down his answer on a whiteboard you can't see before he makes eye contact with you, giving you a little nod.
"If we're not counting at home movie dates... then it'd be Harrison Porter. You were trying to surprise me by renting out the whole theater."
Mammon's face lights up as he proudly turns his board to the cameras and audience, revealing his own matching answer. He beams at you, clearly satisfied with how this scheme was going.
It was just last week when he barged into your room, asking a question that just about caused you to spit out your drink.
“Will I what?”
The speed at which he could open your door, walk into your room, and say something truly out of pocket was second to none.
But this was a whole other ballpark.
“Ya got cotton in your ears or somethin’?”, he sasses you, hands on his hips with an expression that said he wasn’t too pleased with your hesitation. “I said will you marry me?!”
You blink at him.
Once.
Twice.
You wait for him to continue but he gives you nothing, staring back at you with a calculated look.
“…Why?”
It’s the only thing you can think to say. This came out of absolutely nowhere. Sure, you and the Avatar of Greed were friends, you’d even say best friends. You've shared some romantic tension and awkward kisses in the past, but you’d never thought he’d show actual interest for you in that way. Especially at that level.
“Wh- Whaddya mean why?! First of all, rude. Anyone would be lucky to take The Great Mammon’s hand in marriage. Second of all, cause I need your help.”
He shoves a flyer in your face less than delicately which you snatch from his hands, huffing at his offending act.
You look between him and the flyer, doing a double take as your face scrunches in confusion.
The flyer is constructed of bold word art and stock images that almost make it laughable- if it weren’t for how serious Mammon seemed about it.
You read it to yourself under your breath -
‘Think you know your partner better than anyone else? Do you have the strongest bond in the world? Put your love to the test in The Newlywed Game! Now searching for contestants to compete for the grand prize of $10,000.’
“You want me to go on a game show - with you - and pretend we’re married?”
“Bingo!”, his eyes light up in their usual way when he gets a harebrained idea for a money making scheme. “I’ll even be nice enough to split the winnings with you 70/30.”
You gaze up at him from your criss-crossed position on the bed, glaring.
“60/40”.
The expression in your eyes doesn’t change as you raise an eyebrow at him.
“Okay okay, fine! I’ll split it with ya 50/50, sheesh!”
You drop your eyes back to the flyer, contemplating his proposition.
“Hold on, the grand prizing isn’t in Grimm. Is this in the human realm?”
“Ya catch on fast, dontcha? If it’s airin’ on human television, there’s less of a chance of Lucifer findin’ out and putting the kibosh on the whole thing." He points to his brain as if to boast of his sly thinking.
You pause, tossing the idea back and forth in your brain. “And you’re okay with that? People thinking I’m your wife”, you find yourself blushing at the thought, a little surprised at how okay he seemed with the notion, butterflies growing in your stomach. Maaaybe you had a bit of a crush. Just an inkling of fascination. Just the beginnings of a lovestruck feeling towards the man in front of you. But, from past experiences, you knew there was no way he knew, and equally so, no way you would tell.
“Yeah, who’s to say it wasn’t a shotgun wedding? A Vegas style thing, huh? And who’s to say we didn't get divorced right after.”
Okay. Butterflies gone.
You roll your eyes with a huff. “Mammon, you know this isn’t a ‘how well do you know your best friend’ competition. It’s a newlywed game. We’d have to really sell the idea that we’re married.”
“Relax”, he dismisses your worries with a wave of his hand, grabbing you by the shoulder. “How hard could it be?”
Genuinely, it turns out, not very hard at all. The two of you were attached at the hip since your first few weeks in the Devildom - for better or for worse. At this point, you did know each other like the back of your hand, and your pact with him ended up bringing the two of you closer and closer day by day.
There had been moments the two of you shared within the last few years that made you question what exactly the two of you were. Mammon could go from sharing a timid kiss with you on a balcony one day, to swearing up and down that you were nothing but a friend the next - however, no matter how much he tried to deny, he remained glued to you daily and nightly.
So, was pretending to be newlyweds really that big of a jump from what the two of you had going on? The idea itself brought a simmering, giddy feeling out from the depths of your heart and had you readily agreeing to help him win this game show without very much thought.
Now, sitting here in front of the cameras next to the Avatar of Greed, it feels almost as if the tables were turned. Mammon proudly took your hand in his own, and spoke about your 'love' as if you'd been together for years before this.
"Renting out the whole theater?!", the host gasps with manufactured excitement, backed up by a chorus of 'ooo's from the studio audience. "Do tell us more!"
He leans back, and it seems almost natural for him to make this stuff up - diving into an anecdote about how long it took him to save up for that date, of how he decorated the theater himself, of how awesome and generous of a boyfriend he was.
But then it really hits you - this did happen. He wasn't lying, or bolstering, or pretending - he was describing something that actually happened. A 'date' the two of you shared. One he was willingly telling the world about.
"And then she shows up with our friend Simeon accusin' me of cheatin' on her!"
The gasps of the crowd snap you out of your deep thinking. "Only because you were sneaking around behind my back!", you quickly retort with no real bite behind it.
"I only wanted to make the night magical for ya! And I think I did a pretty damn good job, didn't I?"
As you giggle along with those around you, you see the sincerity on his face, leaving you surprised, your laugh dying in your throat.
"Didn't I?". His voice is lower as he leans over from his own chair to get closer to you. His hand lands on your thigh and - for a second, you could be the only two people in the world. Forget the game show, forget the audience, the cameras, the host, the competing couples. His eyes shine with something behind them that you can't quite read. Whatever it was, it left you breathless.
"Ya gonna answer me?"
His hand squeezes now, grip tightening on your leg, whether to get your attention, or something else - you're not sure, but it brings you back to your senses. "Y-Yeah... you did great. I-I loved it."
His face breaks out into a wide grin. "Thought so." He moves in closer, and you find it difficult to stop yourself from flinching out of surprise as his lips make contact with your cheek. You bring your hand up to that area, touching it in disbelief.
You don't get a moment to compose yourself before the director yells for a cut and tells everyone to take five. Mammon is already dragging you by the hand backstage into an area secluded by curtains and technical rigging.
“Oi! Whatcha gettin’ all flighty for? You need to get your head in the game!”
You curse yourself for not catching your inner thoughts as you day dreamed about the man next to you.
“I-I’m sorry! I’ve never been on a TV show before - cut a girl a little slack!”, you stutter out, hoping your indignant tone covers for the nerves currently eating away at you.
He clicks his tongue, crossing his arms and looking away.
“Ya know, when we get married, ya better be ready to answer questions like those at the drop of a hat."
Your eyes go wide at the implication of his statement, the second born clearly not registering the weight of what he just said.
“…When we get married?”
He pauses, his own eyes growing as big as saucers as his face heats up, quickly taking a step back to distance himself from you, wildly waving his hands out in front of him.
“IF! If we got married! It was just a hypothetical, like - not serious! Why would I be serious bout marryin’ some dumb human!”
You roll your eyes at his Olympic level backpedaling.
“Riiiiggghhht”, you draw out, teasing him.
“I-I’m serious!”, he continues to flounder a bit as you laugh.
He is saved from his own embarrassment as a bell rings out, indicating it’s time to return to set. Without missing a beat, he composes himself, throwing an arm around your shoulder, escorting you back to your seat in front of the studio audience, being sure to kiss your hand before he sits as well.
And you wonder to yourself - how does he make it look so easy? How can he seemingly turn this type of affection towards you on and off like the flick of a switch?
It’s bewildering, it’s baffling, it’s impressive - and it makes your heart beat 700 miles a minute.
The next questions asked to the separate couples on stage seem to fly past your head. Why is it so hard to focus? You were just doing the second born a favor, right? So why did this feel so…
“Mammon!” You're startled once again by the sound of the over enthusiastic host as he sets his sights once again on the two of you.
“Your question is…”, he takes a dramatic pause for effect, which annoys you just as much as it sets your anxiety on fire.
“What was MC's first impression of you?”
The confidence in Mammon’s face falters for a second as he presses his lips into a hard line, seeming to be briefly lost in thought.
"First impressions, huh?", he mumbles seemingly to himself.
What should you write? Should you be lying, bolstering about how ‘wonderful’ your ‘husband’ was from the moment you saw him? What sort of grandiose story would Mammon come up with to answer this one? You panic, shooting him a worried look that gets ignored. There’s no way in hell your answers will match up this round.
Unsure which way he would swing this, you decide on a non-truth. It’s not a lie, but it’s not entirely accurate. You quickly scribble down your first impressions of the man next to you.
“Well, I’m sure my huma-”. His brain seems to buffer as he realizes his mistake, coughing into his hand in a ridiculous attempt to cover up his blunder.
“I mean, my wife thought I was the coolest, hottest, most charmin’ guy in the room. I betcha I swept her right off her feet-”
Of course he would say something like that. You mentally face palm, staring down at the answer you written with a blank face. Dammit.
“is what I’d like to say.” Your attention snaps back to him as you stare in shock. You feel your breathing stutter slightly.
“But, to be honest with ya, she probably thought I was loud… and annoying…and rude.”
You gawk at him in disbelief. Is he reading your answers somehow?
“I uh- I didn’t treat her the best when we first met. She was… new to town… and I was her tour guide, so to say.”
You watch as he meticulously crafts a somewhat truthful response, careful not to mention the existence of the Devildom and demons on what was probably going to be national, if not worldwide human television.
“I was assigned to show her around even though I didn’t sign up for it. It was a pain in my ass, to tell the truth.”
“Gee, thanks”, you pipe up from your seat, causing small scattered laughter to ring out from the audience.
He gives you a semi-annoyed look, before his expression breaks into something more genuine.
“But, she grew on me. And I found myself tryin’ to come up with excuses to hang around her more often than not. Lookin’ after her started as a chore, but... it ended up bein’ the best thing that ever happened to me.”
The chorus of ‘awwws’ from the audience turns to muffled static in your ears as you replay what you’ve just heard back in your head over and over. The best thing that’s ever happened to him? You?
Where is he getting this stuff from, honestly?
Your short circuit comes to a close as the host motions to you, asking you to turn your board around.
You flip it towards the camera to display your previously written answer.
‘MEAN AND RUDE. LOUD AND INCORRECT.’
Applause ring out as the two of you get yet another point on your score, keeping both of you in the lead.
“Hey! Whaddya mean loud AND incorrect?”, he huffs out like a petulant child.
“You’re the most confidently wrong person I know”, you shrug.
“I gotta say, the chemistry between the two of you is palpable!”, the host comments, much to the joy of the audience. “You know, they do say the more you tease someone, the closer you are!”
“They do?”, you both parrot back at the same time.
“They do! Look at the two of you! I'm sure you're so close you finish each other’s sentences.”
For a moment, you watch as Mammon’s ears go red, his face showing the clear signs of panic you’re used to when his tsundere tendencies kick in. And for a second, you almost think he’s about to mess this up, ruin this whole thing, point out the two of you as frauds- just because his brain refuses to process the idea of ‘you’ and ‘affection’ in the same sentence when caught off guard.
But he quickly recovers, proudly slinging his arm around you once more.
“Damn straight! Ain’t no one closer than me and MC!”
The questions continue on in this fashion, with Mammon bolstering about how awesome your relationship was, and you adding in quips where you can to make this whole thing as believable as possible, until it gets down to the final question. You listen for the results with bated breath, watching as the host holds up a tiny white envelope to the camera.
"Now, we have a special surprise today in store for our couples here", he starts, motioning to you and the other contestants. "Because, the winner of today's show isn't just going home with $10,000."
You can practically see Mammon's greed shoot up tenfold at the mention of another prize.
"They'll also be getting an all expenses paid, week long honeymoon trip of their choosing!"
Oh God.
While you freeze where you sit, the second born seems to be shaking excitedly with anticipation. It's almost laughable how polar opposite your reactions are.
“So without further ado... the winners of this episode of The Newlywed Game… the grand prize of $10,000... and the honeymoon trip is…”
“Mammon and MC!”
“Yes!”, Mammon shoots out of his chair to excitedly scream, reaching for you as you stand to do the same. You extend your arms out for what seems like a hug. He doesn't hesitate, the avatar of greed picking you up and spinning you around.
And kissing you full on the lips.
Your eyes go wide in shock you quickly realize you should not be displaying at a normal, celebratory kiss with your ‘husband’. You redirect mentally, trying to look as typical as possible, closing your eyes and wrapping your arms around his neck. But internally, every part of you is screaming.
You move your lips with his as he holds you in a vice grip, kissing you as if he was trying to steal all the oxygen from your lungs. One of his hands reaches up, delicately carding through your hair, the other drawing you infinitely closer by your waist. You mirror his movements, grabbing at the white strands near the nape of his neck.
You don’t know how long this went on for, just that it felt like time completely paused for you. But, it was long enough for the host to clear his throat to get both of your attention. He hands you a humorously sized giant check, and you watch as Mammon’s attention seemingly gets eaten up by the piece of cardboard while you’re trapped in the aftermath of the daze he just put you through.
And when cut is called and the taping considered wrapped, you listen to him yap the whole way back to the Devildom, only half listening to what he was saying. Too focused on the events that took place just 45 minutes ago. Too focused on the prospect of a 'honeymoon' trip, whatever that means. Too focused to think any thought other than the one currently burning in your skull -
You will do absolutely whatever it takes to get him to kiss you like that again.
I like to think that Mammon loves helping MC out with chores. I headcanon it, actually. It’s even canon in the game that he’ll do anything MC asks for. It’s funny coz he’s the kinda guy who would slack off and make excuses not to do stuff. Like who wants to wash the dishes anyway? How boring. But wait, if he gets to do it with you? It’s now fun coz it’s like you’re a married couple. Aww, all those domestic fluffy feels, his heart can’t take it! At least Lucifer is happy. Ok seriously tho, even though everyone takes turns to do chores in the House of Lamentation, I imagine if it’s your turn, it’s so much work for one person, like there are 8 people including yourself you got to cook for, and do so many dishes as well! Thankfully you have your faithful puppy helping you out. He’ll be like “don’t stay up too late coz of all the work” and “all that scrubbing’s gonna hurt your delicate human hands” and continue making as many excuses as he can think of. But you don’t mind in the slightest!
these are a few months old now! i wanted to do raphael and post him with these, but i never really got around to it
SIMEON
He now has high-heeled shoes and a laureal wreath, which i headcanon to be signs of status in the Celestial Realm (he was a seraphim for a loong while, after all. and he is one again. i guess). His cloak is a bit longer, and so are his gloves. I gave him 4 ear piercings and a necklace (and another one around his waist) because jewelry is #awesome.
SOLOMON
⬆my incredible screen-recording of a timelapse
This one is my favourite one so far- probably because my bias for Solomon-- but still. This one is also covered in jewelry and shiny things (big win for noise pollution). I had a lot of problems choosing the colour of his sweater, but ultimately i decided on beige? Black is also a good choice, but i think i considered it too close to celestial realm fashion at the time, and he's supposed to be distinctly human. or something.
LUKE
I recoloured his shirt to black so its more visible, as well as adding a fabric belt to further separate his shirt from his shorts. I removed the little... ties? and knots? on the gold lining of his cloak. He now has white thights, which are barely visible. yay. And there's earrings. because of course.
this feels like i've hit a milestone almost…. finally, a true, unabashed, complete cretin in my notes... i'd get champagne out but im saving it for the end of the year
germansingergirl
romaincrisis
gummygunk
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theartofmadeline
ellievsbear
