The sheets were cool against your exposed skin. Softly, almost reverently, his nailed fingers unconsciously carded through your hair as if it were the melted gold he so desperately sought after. As you looked up, you could see the drool covering his olive cheek, clearly in a deep sleep.
With a soft touch, you gently traced the soft curve of his jaw, slowly coaxing him awake. "Mams.. C'mon, wake up," you whispered, chuckling lowly when he groaned, one blue-yellow eye slitting open, immediately looking down at you. You, beautiful you. His.
"Ng.. Whassap, treasure?.." He grumbled, his voice a low, subterranean like rumble in his chest, drowning with exhaustion from his nap as he finally reached up to brush his spit away, not caring as you saw him like this. His white, pearlescent hair fell over his eyes as he groaned again, this time in annoyance at being woke up. "Baabeee.."
"Sorry, Mams.." You immediately mumble back the apology, leaning up to press a peck to the corner of his now, luckily, dry mouth, his hand tightening on your waist, feeling over the exposed skin there. "Sorry, don't know why I woke you up.."
"No, no, never, you're," He started, yawning widely, his teeth glinting in the dim light of your room, before he dove back down, his arms wrapping tightly around your entire body, his face pressed into the junction between your shoulder and neck as if you were the only thing tethering him to reality. You may be. "You're golden, don't be sorry.."
You find a suspicious letter lying on the ground in front of the House of Lamentation. A trail of blood leads away from the building. You pick the letter up and find your name on the envelope. And against your better judgment, you open it.
Hello. Let me start by assuring you that this letter is not cursed in any way, so please, read it. At the time of me writing this, I'm still not sure that I'll even be able to deliver it to you. I have a plan, a very risky one. I'll probably have to sacrifice a limb. Or two. But I have no choice. Only you can help me. I'm begging you, please, read this letter until the end.
I don't think you know who I am. My entire life turned upside down because of you, but you probably aren't even aware of my existence. I know how much they protect you. And it's certainly in their power to prevent any upsetting information from reaching your ears. They coddle you so much. Do you even remember what pain feels like at this point?
But I digress. My name doesn't really matter. I've been through so much that I don't feel like myself anyway. If I get out of all of this alive, I'll change my name, identity, and appearance, and claw my way through all the circles of Hell to get to the Human Realm. Because there is no way I'm staying in the Devildom. I can't.
What you need to know is that at this moment, I'm the public enemy number one. Before that, I was a private investigator. I didn't have a badge, but I still served the common folk. I had a pretty big channel on Deviltube. Politics, controversies, dirty secrets of nobles—there were no forbidden themes on my channel. I was famous for my honesty, for exposing the truth. And one day, I uploaded a video about the most controversial person of all. About you.
Yeah, you are not as slick as you think. These rumors about you dating all the Seven Rulers, the vague evidence of you trying to seduce our future king, the absolutely vile gossip about you and that angel, or whatever he is right now... I've proven all of them to be true! And even more! You had sex with some butler right at the castle! During a party! Everybody heard you two, you know. It was forbidden to discuss, but no matter how hard everyone pretends, the music just wasn't loud enough.
I also had some not-safe-for-work photos of you and that human sorcerer. But I'll be honest, they weren't even featured in a video. Everybody got tired of Solomon's romantic escapades around five hundred years ago. Do you even know that he had one thousand partners? All thousand of them at the same time. Yeah, you are not special.
Except apparently you are! Because literally all hell broke loose as soon as I published my video. It was taken down within several minutes. By the request of that damn company that allegedly protects your public identity now. You probably don't even know about its existence. Imagine a whole office full of demons tracking all the mentions of your persona on the internet. On taxpayers’ money. I wasn't shocked when I found out that Asmodeus was its owner. But when I learned that it was Lucifer who approved an enormous budget for that ridiculous purpose, I was appalled. I always thought that he was much more responsible with money. Though, after everything I've experienced lately, his actions don't surprise me anymore. It's clear that he is under your thumb just like everybody else.
Losing the video I've worked so hard on was stressful. I was furious, not understanding that it was just the beginning. Meanwhile, Asmodeus clearly mentioned this incident to the rest of your... Who are they at this point? Boyfriends? There were some rumors about marriage, but you couldn't marry all of them, right? Polygamy has always existed in the Devildom, but aren't you too greedy? Are you trying to break Solomon's record? Maybe all humans are simply insatiable? Even Asmodeus is less of a playboy. How do you even have the stamina to
They didn't wait long to make a move. It all started with horrifying nightmares, clearly a courtesy of Belphegor. And when I say horrifying, I actually mean "ultrarealistic inescapable torture that traps you within your own mind with your worst fears". Sounds lovely, doesn't it? No words can describe how awful these nightmares were. When I finally woke up, I swear, I didn't recognize myself in the mirror. All the light escaped my eyes, and I looked like I was on the verge of death.
I soon realized that I was literally about to die when Satan broke into my house. I don't know if he and Belphegor planned their double attack or if it was just a coincidence. But I managed to run away. For a long time, I didn't even know what happened to my house. You know, the one I've been living in for seven centuries. Recently I succumbed to the temptation and sneaked there to check.
It's fully gone. Some remnants of my personal belongings are scattered on the ground. The debris is now permanently covered in the raging green fire. At least the neighbors were spared.
While I was on the run, several friends called me and let me know that apparently I became a fugitive. Lord Diavolo issued a warrant of my arrest. Everywhere I went there were guards waiting for me, ready to catch me toss and me in jail. After a while I started to think that I should've just gone with them. But against my better judgment, I continued to run.
Soon I realized that my phone was the problem. Someone was clearly tracking my movements through that damn thing. I noticed some virus files named "Stay_Away_From_My_Henry" and "Lord_Of_Shadow_Will_Get_You_LOL" right before I destroyed my phone, but I couldn't make sense of them. Maybe they mean something to you.
I was alone and without any means to contact anyone who could help me. Not even my lawyer! I tried to lay low, but someone always was on my tail. Probably whoever hacked my phone was watching me through security cameras around the city. I can't imagine who aside from the Seven Rulers could get clearance to access all the cameras in the Devildom, so it must’ve been one of your guys as well.
I wasn't sure how I was escaping. It was the only thing that went surprisingly well. But whenever I tried to find shelter or a transport to get as far away as possible, my luck was non-existent. Everything that could've gone wrong went wrong. Think of any negative outcome you can imagine, and it probably happened. I tried to hide in an abandoned building. It collapsed on me right away and almost buried me alive. I tried to take a bus. I was the only passenger, and it plummeted down the bridge as it was crossing it. The driver jumped out just in time. I wasn't so lucky. Then I tried to steal a car. And almost got suffocated by a self-activated airbag.
It took me some time to remember that Mammon can influence one's luck. It became widely known after some of his messy breakups. Word of caution: don't break up with or divorce him. It's not fun to be trapped in a bus while you're flying into a river, trust me.
Scratch that, don't break up with any of them, period. If my experience is any indication, none of them will let you go easily. You are stuck with them now; I hope you understand it. I bet they only ever let you see their "good side", but all of them are rotten.
Except for your angel lover. Never thought I'd say this about an angel, but he is not that bad. He is the only person who didn't torture me, and it means a lot to me lately.
Soon, the number of pursuers increased. I eavesdropped on some of them and learned that there was new blood among the guards Lord Diavolo sent. Solomon the Wise offered his services, and now all the demons he had contracts with were also chasing me around the realm.
The endless running finally stopped only when Lucifer himself decided to get involved. He appeared in front of me out of nowhere, grabbed me, and teleported away.
Did you know that he has five secret torture rooms hidden throughout the Devildom? I've visited them all. I must admit, they are pretty tasteful. Minimalistic decor, relaxing dim light, clean floors and instruments.
Lucifer wasn't much of a talker, at least around me. He clearly is a man of action and prefers to work efficiently. I got the opportunity to fully experience how imaginative he is as well. Though, the worst torture devices were of human origin. Some inventions currently can only be seen on the pages of human history books, but Lucifer replicated them to the tiniest of details.
When there was very little of me left, he summoned Beelzebub. A very hungry Beelzebub.
Have you ever been eaten alive? I assume not. Maybe you'll get to experience it one day if you anger one of your darling boyfriends. Or if you make him too excited. There is no win here, really. I don't know what you were thinking when you started dating this guy.
I'll spare you the details. Just know that every single cell of my body was put through a wringer. I can only thank my dear grandma for genes of incredible durability and regeneration. As long as something of me still exists, I can restore myself.
I regained my consciousness in the sewers. I'll leave it to your deduction skills to figure out how I got there. I was reforming my body slowly, piece by piece. And when I finally got a more or less stable structure and collapsed from exhaustion, I was greeted by another nightmare.
And then I woke up in my house. I know. I was confused too. At first, I thought that everything that happened was part of the nightmare, and Belphegor was just messing with my head. But it was far worse.
Everything repeated itself. Everything. Satan barging in, the endless chase, Lucifer, Beelzebub... I woke up in the sewers, regenerated, collapsed, and then woke up once more, in my house.
No matter what I did to change the outcome, nothing helped. I tried to give myself up willingly to the demons that chased me. Instead of taking me to jail, they dragged me to Lucifer, at his personal request.
Next time I went to Solomon’s minions. Did you know that he has three secret torture rooms in the Devildom alone? But I guess he'd call them "laboratories". I've visited them all as well. And then whatever was left of me was used in his potions. Some tiny parts of me always end up tossed away, though. I regenerate, collapse, and everything starts over.
I don't know who does it. Someone trapped me in this endless loop, and I can't get out. Time has no meaning anymore. I lost count of how many times I relived this sequence of events. I remember everything, which is the worst part of all of it. I'm so tired.
This is the first time I'm trying to contact you. Somehow it never occurred to me before that you could be my savior. Maybe this entity that keeps torturing me through time and space will be appeased if I apologize to you.
I am sorry. Truly. And I pity you. You may think that you have everything under control, but you tied yourself to a group of demons you don't really know. And a human sorcerer, of course. Be careful, because even if they don't show it in your presence, they are cruel. And you don't have regeneration as good as mine.
But I have a feeling that this unseen monster won't be pacified by a simple "I'm sorry" letter, so my only hope is you.
Make them stop. I've been through enough. There is no justice here, only a cruel game that amuses everyone except for me. I just want to leave this damn place and never come back.
They'll listen to you, I know that.
Take care of yourself. And good luck. You may need it even more than me.
short'n sweet thing about Mammon being your roommate and asking him to be your model for a painting
(i wanted to post my wip list in order, but the ones ahead of this are still unfinished)
When the door swings open, Mammon quickly kicks back; snatching up the TV remote and begins flipping through channels. He’s positive he looks totally relaxed, bored even. Definitely not like he’s been anxiously waiting for your return, or anything.
Though you’re annoyed about his feet propped up on the coffee table, you’re more surprised to see your roommate home at this time of night. When he’s not skipping class to hustle, he’s usually partying.
“Oh, hey,” he says casually, not even glancing your way. “Kinda late, ain’t ya?”
You check your watch to discover, yes, he’s correct, by forty-five minutes or so. “You know my schedule?”
Mammon shifts in his seat, staring intently at the screen as if he’s about to dismiss you in favor of finding a show to watch. “No, I’m just observant.”
“All right, well, sorry I’m late,” you mutter sarcastically, turning to head towards your room.
Only making it a few steps away, Mammon’s voice calls out, “Hey, uh, hold up a sec…”
Fatigue from the day weighs on you, tempting you to ignore the sound of what could only be your roommate inevitably making ready to convince you to join in on something ridiculous. There was never a dull moment with him, certainly, but some nights you just wanted to rest. Nights like this, for example.
Still, it’s hard to shake the actual sincere sound of his voice, so against better judgment, you pause and turn. Mammon’s on his feet, looking ready to follow you down the hall. “Yeah?”
“Was gonna head out in a few to meet up with some buddies. Thought ya might wanna tag along.” He shifts on his feet, practically scowling. It’s a wonder if maybe one of his friends is putting him up to inviting you.
“Sorry, Mammon…” Was your mind playing tricks on you, or did he actually just deflate then? “I’ve got too much work to catch up on.”
He shrugs. “Whatever. Just thought ya might wanna break.”
“Actually…Mammon, you still model, right?”
Mammon immediately looks defensive, “Yeah. So what?”
“You wanna model for me?”
“Huh?”
“I have an art project due soon and I just haven’t had any good inspiration, so I thought using an actual model may help…”
His cheeks puff for a moment, eyes rolling in thought as he contemplates the favor before his gaze snaps back to you, “What’s the pay?”
“Uhm…I’ll cook you dinner?” He doesn’t look quite convinced to agree. “I’ll give you a no-rules-IOU?”
“No rules?” he repeats, eyebrows waggling.
Now you roll your eyes, “Within reason, obviously.”
“Ugh, fine,” Mammon sucks his teeth, “I do still owe ya for the money ya let me borrow anyway.”
While you’d much rather have the cash back, you can’t exactly argue with him on this. Modeling is his job, after all, and asking him to do it for free just because he’s your roommate is realistically unfair. During your own consideration, he’s moved closer, beginning to usher you down the hall towards your room.
“C’mon, before I change my mind.”
“But your friends? I thought you were getting ready to go out?” A hand against his chest stops him in his tracks. “It doesn’t have to be tonight.”
Without a word, Mammon whips out his phone, sends a single text, then returns it to his back pocket. “There, now I’m free.”
There’s still some fight left in you; nearly shouting at him for blowing off his friends just for your art project, but you also know once Mammon makes up his mind, there is no changing it. Instead of wasting your precious energy, you count your good fortune for his unusual charitable mood, then turn to lead the way.
At your bedroom door, you pause, turning back to him, hesitating. “Also, uhm…”
Immediately, he starts getting impatient. “We doin’ this or what?”
“I should warn you…it, uh, it’s a nude portrait…”
Despite the fact you’re finding it difficult to look Mammon in the eyes, you’re still able to notice the way his face flushes; the way he shifts on his feet; the way he pointedly avoids your gaze as well. “Th-that… That’ll cost ya extra.”
Summary: It's a normal day in the House of Lamentation, which means there's been at least three fires and two near death instances.
Today, Asmo has decided is going to be picture day, even if he has to drag the rest of his brothers kicking and screaming into it. There's nothing wrong with a little manipulation, after all.
Explicit RATING
Tags: •Crack Treated Seriously •Fluff •Sub Mammon •They/Them Unnamed MC •MC's downstairs Situation is not mentioned •First Kiss •Diavolo×Lucifer •Asmo×Solomon
🐸kudos and comments mean the world to me and reblogs are the life blood of tumblr -🩷sam
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Tag List (if you want to be added like this -> post. If you want to be removed lemme know);
Mammon lovers I bestow upon you my apology fic. Please, rise up and come get your boy.
I fell for him a bit more writing this frfr
Pairing: gn!reader x Mammon (romantic feelings heavily implied, no established relationship, but don't you worry - you're working on that)
TW: Mention of Lucifer's punishments, Uhuhuh awkward discussion of infernal courting behaviors, mentions of violence, lmk if there''s anything else to add, ty!
Word Count: ~5,000
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
On the rug before you lay two options: “The Wicked Woes of Demonessa” or “To Capture a Beating Heart”.
You flip over both DVD cases to skim their synopses, fingers trailing over the printed leads in all their infernal glory. You snort to yourself at the crossroads Asmodeus has supplied you with and wonder which would be better: an all-demon romance or a demon-human romance?
Ah-actually, the question should be: which would be easier to convince Mammon to watch with you?
The answer, as always, is neither. But that won't stop you from trying.
You shake your head, a smile pulling at your lips at the thought of how he'll react to your movie selection tonight. He's late, but with good reason, so you'll forgive him. Punishment by Lucifer is punishment enough.
You kneel up from your position on the floor, rubbing out the pins and needles that had started to form. When all feeling returns to you, you reach under your bed to drag out the thick faux fur blanket Mammon had gifted you for your birthday this year. Custom-made, a pattern of your favorite hideously-cute zombie iguana plushies are plastered across the golden spread. You push your face into the fabric, its velvety softness tickling your skin, and inhale. It smells of the same smoky cedarwood that sticks to his skin.
You toss it onto your bed and climb up after. One-by-one you adjust your pillows so that they rest upright against the mossy wall and face the TV. You take care to put more support on your side, anticipating he'll eventually stop resisting and cuddle up to you as he often does. When you're finally satisfied with the distribution, you hop off the bed to snatch your wallet from the table nearby. You dig inside until your finger bumps into what you're looking for; a golden grimm coin.
Both titles are appealing enough that you're impartial to either, so you'll just do a coin toss. You're more interested in the cute expressions Mammon will show you tonight anyway.
You flip the coin off your thumb, catch it in your palm, and lay it flat on the back of your hand. You lift your palm and grin - it's head. “The Wicked Woes of Demonessa” it is.
A knock sounds at your door.
"Hey, Human, It's me. Open the door!" You hum to yourself, bending down to pick up just one of the DVDs. You stash both your wallet and “To Capture a Beating Heart” into your backpack and plop it into the chair farthest from the bed. You look over your room one more time and nod before walking over to open the door.
There waits your pouty demon, hair all mussed up with arms crossed over his broad chest.
"Some nerve you got, making me wait!" He huffs. You flash him a toothy smile, tugging him inside by his elbow and shutting the door behind him.
"Happy to see you too, Mam." A light flush rises to his cheeks.
"Y-yeah..happytoseeyatooidiot," he grumbles. "Did'ya pick out a movie yet?" His eyes skitter away from you to appraise your set-up.
Dimmed fairy lights, honey-scented candle sticks lit on golden candelabras, and the golden pendant he'd gifted you during your first year in the Devildom rests proudly over the collar of your pajama shirt. Everything is intentional. Everything is for him.
"Sure did!" You saunter over towards your bed and bend over to pick up the DVD case from off the rug. You go to open the case, but a lack of following footfalls distracts you. You look over your shoulder to find him fidgeting in the middle of your room.
You frown. "What's wrong Mam?"
"W-what's that smell?" His eyes flicker to and fro, scanning your space for the source.
"Uh, well I lit some scented candles. If they're too sweet for you I can turn them off, no problem." You toss the case onto your bed before heading for the coffin-shaped bookshelf in the back. You pick through a small black lace basket filled with spell tools you're borrowing from Solomon.
You forget sometimes how heightened their senses are compared to yours.
"You don't gotta go making a big deal out of it. A little sweetness ain't nothin' to the Great Mammon." He chuckles loud and proud, but you catch the way he clenches his fists at his side.
"It "ain't nothin'" if it bothers you, Mam." You admonish. You finally find the candle snuffer and lift it out of the basket. "Your comfort is my priority, alright?"
He sputters, eyes wide, and you shoot him a soft smile as you move over to the first candelabra. "Really, it's no trouble."
Before you can snuff out the first candle stick, a firm hand wraps around your wrist. "Nah, s'fine. I..I like it." Your heart does a little flip at the admission, but as you glance down at the back of his hand you frown.
"Aw, what happened here?" Your free hand traces the indentations pressed into his skin. They aren't too deep, but they seem a little aggravated.
"Tsch," he releases you to shove both his hands into his jacket pockets. A slight crinkle catches your attention as they settle into the tight space, but you'll worry about that later.
"Hey, none of that. No hiding." You place the snuffer onto the table and turn to him. You hold out your hands, palms up, and wait. Mammon can only shuffle his feet and avoid your eyes for so long.
"He's getting all creative now! Damn sadist."
You purse your lips and sigh out of your nose. Lucifer only had his brother's best interests in mind, but his methods could be awfully draconian at the worst of times. You'd seen in the group chat this morning that Mammon had tried to sell photos he sneaked out of Diavolo's private chambers. You haven't a clue of how he got past Barbatos of all beings, but you don't put it past him, he certainly is one of the most driven individuals you'd ever met. Undoubtedly, Mammon tested his luck and crossed several boundaries, but your heart aches for him. He's always hated sharing the weakest parts of himself.
"We don't have to talk about it. Will you just let me help you out a bit?" You bat your eyelashes when he finally meets your gaze. He scoffs and shrugs his shoulders.
"Can't keep your hands off me, can ya?" You quirk a brow at him, a knowing look on your face. You start to lower your hands slowly, purposefully.
"That's alright, Mam. I wouldn't want to force you." Before your hands can drop to your side, he clutches them in his own.
"Who said anything about force?! See," his hands squeeze your own, "all good to go." You drag your thumbs over the knuckles encasing your own.
"Go ahead and sit down, I'll join you in a sec." You gesture to the bed and your heart does happy little flips when he gravitates straight to the zombie-iguana blanket.
"Ya still got tha damn thing?" The question comes out soft, too soft, that you wonder if it was for you to begin with.
"Course I do. My first man gave it to me!" You can't stop yourself from laughing at the way his shoulders shoot up to his ears.
"Y-yeah," he attempts to catch himself as you walk back over to the bookshelf and dig into another basket, "It was a hassle to get it made, so don't go lettin' anybody else mess with it."
"Don't worry," you tease from the other side of the room. You can't resist the opportunity to rile up his greed, "I only take it out for our movie nights."
Sparing his dignity, you don't look up from the basket as you hear him choke a bit. When he calms down you grab the lotion-salve you'd made about a week ago, good for healing any minor wounds. Smelling of bergamot with hints of lavender, it's your proudest achievement thus far.
"Actually, speaking of our movie nights...," you stand and make your way over to the bed. Already, he's shoved off his jacket and shoes, making himself at home among the pillows. As your eyes scan his toned arms you're reminded that you quite literally have a model in your bed.
"This is the first one we've had in a while, huh?" He spreads his legs as you come closer, signaling for you to sit in between them. As you join him, his eyes soften and he holds out his hands for you to take. You're humbled by the trust he places in you.
You squirt some lotion into your hand and rub your palms together to warm it up before you reach for him. He sniffs the air and sits up a bit.
"The hells that?"
You cock your head. Does he really not like the smell this time?
"You mean the lotion?"
"Yeah! Did Asmo give you that? I don't want that flowery shit." Ah, the real issue isn't the lotion itself . Rather, that another demon may have given it to you. Despite the laugh begging to spill forth from your lips, you manage to cool your expression.
You slowly massage the cream into your skin, biting your lip at the low warning growl that leaves him. You just had to be sure. "No, Mam. Asmodeus didn't give this one to me. I made it myself." His posture relaxes considerably.
That is, until you open your mouth again.
"But, if you don't like the smell I can go give it to him. He'd probably like it, right? I can go real qu-" You don't get to finish your sentence as his hand grasps the front of your shirt, tugging you forward until you're trapped in his arms.
"Ya ain't goin nowhere." Goosebumps prick at your skin in response to this growl. It's not a warning. It's daring you to try your luck. You move quickly to return his embrace, smoothing your hands over his backside to reassure him. "You're stayin' here with me, understand?" Warmth flows through you from head to toe.
"So, you don't find the scent completely and utterly repulsive?" Your hands trail upwards to massage his shoulders, pushing and prodding the tense muscles. He flinches, but doesn't stop you.
"Ah, hold on!" Something clicks as he snaps back from you, holding you back by your shoulders. "Nobody said anythin' about being repulsed! Who said they're repulsed? Not me!"
"Oh, good!" You pull his hands off your shoulders, dropping them onto your lap as you reach over for the lotion. Again, you warm it up between your hands. "Then just sit still, alright?"
He goes down quietly, too quietly, that you make sure to watch his face for any discomfort as you reach for the first hand. A touch to his skin surprises you. His hand is rougher than you expect, but you mask your curiosity and don't hesitate to place your hands atop his. The last thing you want is for him to recede into himself when you've finally gotten this far into whatever is happening between the two of you. You can ask about the rough calluses on his palm another day.
You start with the lines indented over his fingers, carefully kneading the skin as he hisses under his breath. His eyes, a blend of ocean and golden sun, remain transfixed on where your skin meets. But, his face is marred by a deep frown that makes your blood run cold. Did you overstep somewhere?
"What's running through your mind?" You work your way onto his palm, tenderly rubbing the faded scars littered across the expanse of skin. The lotion can't heal something that has already come to pass. Nor can you, but you'll hold him here for as long as he'll let you.
A sigh leaves him. "Don't go treatin' me like I'm fragile. I'm supposed to protect you, got it?"
He's right, he's not fragile. Beneath the glamor he's taut, tough skin, with sharp fangs and leathery wings that could tear you to shreds. But, he's also the same demon who seeks you out for comfort after punishments or a big loss at the casino. The same demon who sits through horror movies if it means he'll have an excuse to spend the night with you. The demon who would truly do anything you asked of him - and that's not a power you wield lightly.
You pat his hand with a smile to let him know you're finished and hold out your hands for him once more. You'll let him decide if he wants to continue.
"Hey, don't you dare ignore me!" Plopping his hand into yours immediately defeats the tough tone he's put on. You start from the top and repeat the motion, fingers to palm. A rush of boldness overcomes you as you press into the callouses. You adore this demon. You wish he could see himself the way you see him.
"I know you're not fragile, Mam." You finish up the massage, but don't let go. You watch as the indentations gradually fade into even skin. "But, you're precious to me. I treasure what's precious to me. You get that, don't you?"
Your stomach drops as silence greets you. At the very least, you think, it's a good sign that he hasn't pulled his hand away from you. You drop both of your hands into your lap and fidget with his fingers.
"You mean that?" You never knew Mammon's voice could sound so meek.
You lift your eyes to his, grasping his hand tightly between your own. Wide eyes, mouth parted, and brows furrowed. Even like this, he's a vision.
"I mean it, Mam."
At once, his cheeks are aflame. "I-you!" He stammers. A laugh rips from your chest, relieved that he didn't a) run out of the room or b) hide away from you. You want to tease him more, but you hold back. Instead, you reach over to pick up the DVD from off your comforter and savor this milestone between the two of you.
"Ready for the movie?" You ask, getting up from the bed.
"Huh? Oh that, yeah, yeah." He seems a bit dazed.
"You feeling ok?" You lean over, lifting your hand to feel his forehead, but his hand catches yours before you reach him.
"I'm fine! The hell we watching anyway?" You use your free hand to show him the DVD cover. The two demonic leads stand before each other, hand in hand, leaning in for a kiss under the title.
"The Wicked Woes of Demonessa?!" He sounds exasperated. "W-where'd you get that junk?! We ain't watching that!"
"What, why not?" You pout, giving him puppy dog eyes.
"That's some mind poison! All it's good for is rottin' ya brain." He snarls, but you know you've got him. A little nudging is all he needs.
"Oh." You sigh, purposefully. "Well, if you don't want to watch it with me, I'm sure Beel or Mo wouldn't mind." "Like he-" "Or-" You counter before he can start running his mouth. "We can watch another movie I borrowed as a back-up."
Mammon eyes you suspiciously. "What other movie are ya hidin', human?"
You have to be a little evil in this back-and-forth or you'll never get anywhere. So, you shuffle over to the TV stand and grab the unopened DVD case resting next to the DVD player. You show him the cover and watch as he immediately recoils.
"ARE YA CRAZY?!" He shrieks. A myriad of ghosts with tormented expressions erupt from the house that rests above the title that reads: The Horrible Haunting of Hollow Hill Manner.
"What?" You ask like it's not the most peculiar and pointed selection to ensure you two watch your movie of choice this evening.
"What?" He mocks your casual tone. "Who're ya borrowin' that from?"
"Satan." Your smile comes easy. "He recommended this one, it's a murder mystery that takes place in a haunted house. Apparently, it's based on a true story."
"A TRUE WHAT?!" He throws the fur blanket over himself, leaving only his head submerged.
"Mammon," you snort, "you're literally one of the most powerful beings in existence. Fourth most powerful in all the Devildom."
You can't see his chest puff up, but you know him well enough to know it does.
"E-exactly!" He exclaims. "I can take on anything. Some cheap old trick movie like that won't scare me, nuh-uh, it'll just be a snoozefest."
"I see," you smirk, "then some cliche romance flick shouldn't be too bad, right? Wouldn't want you falling asleep on me." Hook, line, and sinker.
You pay Mammon's complaints no mind as you open the DVD case and pull out the disk. You pop it into the DVD player, thrilled you get to watch a classic demonic romance unfold. You've been curious for some time now about how romance in the Devildom differs from the Human Realm. The plot seemed entertaining enough, but really you were curious about the customs. You wanted to woo him on his terms, in a way he couldn't blow off as some human schtick.
You press play and pad back over to your bed. He's pouty, so you decide to sit next to him and hold out on getting under the blanket with him.You'll wait until the mood passes and give him his space.You can feel his stare digging into you as the opening soundtrack plays, but you manage to keep your focus on the screen. For a couple of minutes you two sit like this.
"Why're ya bein' like that?" He accuses.
"Like what?" You snap your head to him, eyes widening as you see him sit up, blanket falling off his shoulders and into his lap.
"Distant." He huffs, looking away from you. "Y-you said you treasure what's precious to ya, right?"
Your heart is about to fucking explode. You don't waste a minute, wrapping your arm around his and tugging at him to face you.
"You looked upset, so I wanted to give you your space." You utter, softly. "Would you be ok if I joined you under the blanket?"
He scoffs, lifting the blanket up and over you. "Like ya even hav'ta ask." Earlier in the night than you've anticipated, he cuddles into your side with his head resting on your chest. You can't read his face from this angle, but a subdued purr rumbling through him assures you he's comfortable.
You two sit like this throughout the first half of the movie. It's an interesting premise concentrated on the love between a demon of nobility and a commoner of great strength who has been hired to train the noble in the art of war. Later on, it's revealed that the commoner's unprecedented strength is due to them being an illegitimate child of a Great General of the East. The noble's father, a Recordkeeper, has hidden away documents proving the commoner's lineage at their father's request. Thus, they come to the castle under the guise of an instructor and soon find their plans disrupted when they begin to fall for the Recordkeeper's heir.
Your curiosity is piqued as displays of what you presume is affection come onto the screen. "Hey Mam, I thought they liked each other, so why are they wrestling like that right now?"
It's a more violent display than you expect, but you're entranced as their jaws snap, teeth are bared, and claws dig into skin. The leads throw each other against any surface within the weapon storehouse, stopping the other before they can plan an escape. You look down at Mammon to find him hiding his face into your shirt, the tips of his ears tinged red.
"It's a show of strength." He mumbles into your shirt.
"A show of strength...," you repeat thoughtfully, "is that common in courtship here?"
Mammon groans, hiding further into your shirt. "I don'wanna talk about this. Don't they teach ya shit like that in your Demon Studies course or somethin'?"
"Unfortunately, no. The topic has never come up." Demon Studies has solely focused on social, political, and institutional relationships within the Devildom. Nothing interpersonal as far as you can remember.
"What?! Well they should, some silly 'ol human isn't gonna just pick up on that."
"Well," you drag your fingers through his hair, "think you could enlighten me?"
He peeks up at you with a glare. "Whad'ya wanna know?" The topic seems sensitive, so you tread lightly.
"Could you tell me what a common courtship is like here? You don't have to be detailed or anything. Like, are there steps?" Most of the romance movies you've seen during your time here have been pirated by Leviathan from the human realm.
Again, Mammon hides his face from you. You are about to suggest you two move past the topic when he finally speaks up.
"Yeah. Yeah there are steps." You stay silent, but keep running your hand through his hair.
"Y'noticed how the noble started sendin' letters? Or how once they got a response from the sword swinger they started includin' trinkets or whatever with 'em?" A moment of silence passes and he peeks up at you. It hits you that he's waiting on you to respond.
You smile bashfully. "Oh, yes! Yes, I noticed."
He huffs. "It started then. Goin' all out with gifts, tryin' to impress each other like lunatics."
"Are trinkets usually given?" You ask.
"Mm," he hums, "yeah, but gifts are as varied as demons. Some prefer other things: food, poems, flowers, the heart of your greatest enemy, buncha stuff."
"Huh-" Did you hear that correctly?
"The heart of your greatest enemy?" You parrot.
"What, ya sayin' humans don't do that anymore?" You shake your head.
"None that I've met at least." You don't doubt that humans have done it at some point in time, but it sounds more like some distant wartime practice from the Middle Ages or earlier.
"Still happens here. It's a show of strength and dedication, proof ya can kick any ass that comes threatinin' your potential mate." He seems to be relaxing more and more as you delve deeper into the topic.
"So, the wrestling...?"
"Show of strength. They're pretty equally matched, even though the lovebirds run in different circles. Makes 'em decent partners at least." You feel your mind expanding with the revelation that this scene is way deeper than you've realized. Despite the commoner's standing, they've been in control for most of the wrestling match.
"Ooooh!" You take a minute to ponder.
"So, demons won't usually go for someone weaker than them?"
"Bingo."
You wonder what this means for you two. You certainly aren't as strong enough as a demon, and especially not as strong as the Avatar of Greed.
You lose your train of thought as Mammon sits up more to face you, poking you in the forehead.
"Doesn't mean they never will." You relax your face at his touch, you hadn't realized it was scrunched up so much.
"It's not all about how tough ya are. It's 'bout how they make ya feel too. A courtship is pretty serious stuff, you don't pursue somethin' that intense with just any old schmuck."
Mammon's eyes follow your hand as it reaches to fiddle with the golden pendant he gifted you. In the middle lies some gemstone you can't find in the human world. It's clear with specks of gold and blue. He blushes and coughs into his fist.
"If it continues after that, it gets pretty serious pretty fast. Ya start scentin' each others stuff, which is a pretty ballsy move."
Your eyebrows jump up at this unexpected development. "Scenting...?"
"Yeah, puttin' your scent out so they know who ya belong to. No human nose is gonna pick up on somethin' subtle like that, but it's there." Wait, so does that mean-
"Is the house scented? Can it just be anything?" Mammon looks at you as if you've just grown another head.
"Huh?! No!" Embarrassment warms your cheeks.
"Why would we go wastin' energy like that? That's crazy. If anything is scented, it's intentional and nothin' time consumin'." You shrug your shoulders.
"Ah, ok. I didn't know." You fiddle some more with the pendant, looking away from him.
"Ack, no don't feel bad!" His face is just as flushed as yours, but he continues. "You didn't ask anything stupid. There's no way ya could've known!" You can't stop the giddy grin that pulls at your lips as he attempts to comfort you. You face him again.
"So, what happens next? If you're already doing something like that, aren't you practically together?"
"Practically, but not officially." He grumbles. "Buncha kids go around scentin' each other thinkin' they're in love. The scent fades as fast as the feelin's." He runs a hand through his hair with a sigh.
"It's official when ya make it official. A spoken agreement between partners. No bullshittin'."
"That's it?" You try to sidestep the microscopic lens of human tunnel vision, but a spoken agreement feels less official than marriage in the human world. Joint assets, joint families, and rings as proof of being claimed.
"Whad'ya mean "that's it?"?! All and everything you really feel. Ya gotta say it and ya gotta mean it. It's a bindin' contract that's a bitch to ever try and break." It clicks for you then. A demon's word is binding.
"Like a pact, but for romantic partners?"
Mammon ponders for a moment before he nods. "That's not too far off. Little more goes into it, but it's complicated." The lull that comes after feels like the end of the conversation, so you take your chance.
"Mammon, has anyone tried courting you before?"
"Hah, of course!" His grin is as smug as it always is. "Who wouldn't want to take a chance to be with The Great Mammon?" He laughs to himself, but you wonder-
"Have you ever accepted an attempt?" You're curious.
"Uh-" The question catches him off guard. "Y-yeah. A handful of times, but it never went anywhere." You're a little disappointed, but you swallow down your pride. It would be more concerning if he'd never tried to find love throughout the milleniums he's lived.
You shift your line of questioning. You'd rather focus on the present and this momentous opportunity lined up before you.
"So, say I were to get you something. What would you like?" You've never seen his head whip around so fast, truly inhuman speed as he jumps back from you and slams into the headboard.
"The hell, MC?!" His face, ears, and what you can see of his neck, everywhere is flushed at your implication. This is just as embarrassing for you, but you feel emboldened by the security of your room, the sweet scent of honey in the air, and the declarations of love coming from the movie that still runs in the background.
"What about a pendant to match mine? Would you wear something like that if I got it for you?" You've come so close. You won't give up now.
"W-why would I want somethin' like that?" You know it's a deflection. He wouldn't have stayed with you, here and now, if it wasn't. But, you're tired of it. You only want it if he wants it too. No bullshitting, right?
"Nevermind then, Mam. Don't worry, I won't get you anything. I don't want to make you uncomfortable." You reach for the remote that fell to the floor during all the commotion. "We don't have to finish the mo-"
You squeal in shock as Mammon throws himself into you. It's enough force to knock you back onto the pillows sprawled all over. You're speechless as he hides his face into your neck. He's never gotten this close to you.
"S'fine." His grip on you tightens. "A matching necklace, s'good."
You can't contain yourself. "Mam, look at me."
He hums but doesn't move.
"Mammon, look at me." You're gentle with him as you cup his cheeks.
"Seriously, you would accept it?"
"Now you're just bein' cruel. I said it's good, didn't I?!" You can feel the sting of tears building. You don't think you've ever been this happy.
You rub your thumbs over his cheeks. "Hey, Mam?"
"Whatd’ya want now?"
"Can I kiss you?"
In an instant, you're pressed back into the pillows, Mammon's lips on yours. It's not fireworks like humans talk about, nor the clashing of fangs as demons might do. It's tender and filled with a longing buried deep within the soul. It's messy. It's unexpected. It's perfect.
You pull back to catch your breath and are touched by the unshed tears in Mammon's glassy eyes. It seems the sensation was mutual.
"I love you, Mam."
You can figure out what this means for you two going forward tomorrow. You can ask about the callouses on his hands or for the stories of hardship behind the scars. You can discuss where courtships went wrong for you both, talk through your communication struggles, and love each other openly without fear. You're just so happy, really, that he'll let you love him.
"I love ya too, MC." He settles back into your arms, and you two lay there for some time, movie all but forgotten.
It's when the credits roll that Mammon shoots up, rushing to grab his jacket.
"Ah, shit!" He digs into his jacket pockets, pulling out a couple bags of hellfire twists. Your shared favorite movie treat.
"I meant to give this to ya earlier. So, ya know, we could have a snack during the movie." You chuckle at him as he rubs the back of his neck.
"We still can. Ever heard of ``To Capture a Beating Heart”?"
Now If Mc Managed to get drunk with spiked punch in a part...
Mam: Uh that's enough punch for ya human*taking the cup away from you who is talking with A drunk Asmo about who love*
Mc:-Like I dont get it!-*Looks at Mammon and leans into him nuzzling into his chest*You and me gonna marry!~WE GONNA HAVE LIKE 20 FUCKING KIDS!*stands up proudly*
Mam*With a face that is getting redder and redder by the minute as he tries to pull you back down to sit*o-oi!*Is hugged by you *
Mc: LOOK YOUR PERSONAL INCUBATOR!-CUZ YOU KNOW!*holds his face in own hands looking down at him with a loving gaze*Your the most beautiful man I've EVER met!~
Mam*Gives a proud smile with a nod, teary eyes*Y-yeh!Treasure!
Mc*Kisses his face all over in sloppy kisses*IM NOT KIDDING YOUR SMILE IS LIKE THE SUN!?-
...The GLARES mammon got...from how affectionate and clingy you were to not let him go...
au where the demon lords are instead revered as local deities. all of them highly respected, except for mammon who’s scorned as the god of poverty/misfortune. one day, mc (who’s recently been on a whole string of bad luck) prays to him on a whim (their reasoning being maybe he favours those afflicted w misery). excited to finally have a devotee (no matter that the offering was just an old lotto card) mammon shows up in person to help mc out... and finds himself falling for a human of all things.
(Technically based off this prompt but also technically not? Took the idea of this prompt/the basic outline but didn't really follow the guidelines, i have 32 prompts and i'm finally, slowly making my way through them and ignoring all my wips🫠🥲)
Unnamed GN! MC x Mammon
Vacancy
There is a town, through the woods, where a vacancy stands, waiting to be filled.
There is a stranger, beyond the town, searching for a purpose, for belonging, for a home.
There is a creature in the woods.
There is a cat in the library.
'And that concludes today's class. Please start working on your projects in due time. Delays will not be tolerated.'
With that the once quiet classroom began to bustle with life and chatter, students shuffling out their seats and towards the doors in search of food, coffee, some dashing to get to their next class.
And you..you were stuck in your seat, cursing whichever fate decided to play tricks on you.
Belphegor is still fast asleep besides you, dark hair falling over his eyes as he nuzzles his face into his folded arms. You never understood what kind of gall he must have, to nap so openly in the front row of the class.
You were tempted to pinch your friend awake. Still, you had more pressing matters to attend to.
Turning your attention to the back of the class, up to the final row of seats you take note of him; he's sat there, his feet crossed and sprawled over the seat in front of him, his phone blocking your view to his face, though you could picture what kind of expression he must've been sporting; blue eyes focused on whichever gambling game took hold of his attention for the day, white hair fluffy and juxtaposing his dark skin, lips in a lazy smirk as he looked over his winnings.
Of all the people in this class, why did you have to be paired with the one person you knew, instinctively, you could never get along with?
Still, the decision has been made-and gathering the last bit of your resolve, you gather your bag and get out of your seat, heading up the stairs towards your fate, who was still oblivious to your presence.
You come to a halt besides him, planting your feet securely to the ground, chin held high.
Many would've been intimidated to be talking to one of 'the campus' demons'. This family's notoriety was well known amongst your peers, how these seven brothers were all named after demons, how each of them was more peculiar than the other.
And yet in their oddness there's intrigue, and people can't help but be fascinated with the lot. From the eldest brothers stoic ruby eyes, to the sleepy younger brother you've somehow befriended, everyone in campus peers at them with a sense of curiosity, the weird becomes popular, and every single person wants a glimpse into their devilish world.
Still, you're not intimidated. You've somehow befriended half their family, after all.
You clear your throat, waiting for Mammon to show any sign of recognition. He doesn't. Instead he furrows his brows, taps harder at his phone screen.
You take a step closer-can smell his sandalwood cologne and catch a glimpse of his screen-todays' gamble's Blackjack, it seems.
'Mammon?'
He clicks his tongue. Doesn't turn to look at you.
'What?' is all he says, short and curt, tone rivaling Satan's, back when you first met him.
'I'm Y/N. We got paired up for the project. Can you put your phone down for a minute so we can discuss it?'
He steals a glance your way and groans.
'Ugh, seriously? Of all the people I had to get paired with the biggest nerd in class?!'
He maintains his air of nonchalance through it all, promptly returning his attention back to his phone- grating your nerves further. What the fuck-what the actual fuck? Who does this dude think he is?
He's met his match, it seems, when you don't back down from the challenge-instead you lean closer, planting yourself between him and the view to his phone screen.
'Okay, listen here', you start, 'I did not ask to be paired up with you, and to be quite blunt, I'm not that fond of you either dude. But the pairing's final, and neither of us can do anything about it, except get it over with as quickly as possible, and then go our separate ways. Okay?'
He falters at that-at your close proximity, at your words, you're not sure-still, you hold his gaze, unfazed by the swirling golden hues dipped in blue and the strong angles of his face. You really, really don't care, you convince yourself, even as you feel your pulse quicken.
'I-Okay, fine' he resigns, sighs when you lean back away from him with a nod.
He clicks his tongue, shuffles in his seat to stand up, flings his backpack over his shoulder as he does. He towers over you, but you hold your ground, squaring your jaw and turning your head up to look him in the eye.
'So. What do we do then?'
You hum. You uh..hadn't thought ahead that far.
You're quick to think up a plan though, not willing to let this man catch you offguard.
'Give me your phone number' you say, 'and let's plan when and where to meet up so we can start working on the project and dividing the work. Is Saturday okay for you?'
You go through the details of the when and where with him, saving his phone number in your phone under his full name.
'Is that all? Can I leave now?' he asks with a grumble and you nod, staring daggers at his retreating figure when he dashed away without as much as a goodbye.
You look back to your phone screen, where his contact page is gleaming in your phone.
You change his name to 'Mammon :|' in one final act of defiance.
