#Mammon has so many layers like onions

[unhinged-greed]

Me digging this HC screenshot out to show friends the headcanon of Mammon and cats, just to get a reminder that a one word will give him anxiety and panic attack.

DEBT!

[obeymeoasis]

What MC Packs On A Picnic For The Boys

You’re out shopping in the early morning for groceries and realize just how lovely the weather is today. It’s warm but there’s a slight breeze in the air, which is a welcome change from the oppressive heat of the past few weeks. You decide to plan a lunch picnic for all of the brothers out in the garden. They’re about to find out why you consider food to be one of your love languages.

Lucifer

For Lucifer, you pack cucumber sandwiches. You lay down thinly-sliced cucumbers and a layer of lemon-dill cream cheese onto soft white bread with the crusts removed. The sandwiches are light and dainty, perfect for Lucifer who tends to avoid heavy lunches.

You nervously watch him take a bite and then sigh in relief when you see his eyes widen slightly, which is as surprised as Lucifer is ever going to get.

"Pet, these are delicious." He dabs at the corner of his mouth with a napkin and you chuckle at how elegant he looks while sitting on the picnic blanket.

Mammon

For Mammon, you grill up some thinly sliced steak, bell peppers, and onions. You add fresh guacamole and pico de gallo before wrapping everything up in a warm tortilla. You hope this will satisfy Mammon, who prefers to have a heartier lunch.

You watch him take an enormous bite and laugh at how he has managed to get guacamole all over his mouth. "Treasure, this is amazing! Probably the best thing you've made me so far."

You smile, incredibly pleased, but have to turn away from Mammon as he eagerly digs into his meal and starts spilling bits of food over the blanket.

Leviathan

For Levi, you prepare a fresh batch of sushi rice. You take some in your hand and add spicy salmon filling before shaping it into onigiri. You decide to make another one with umeboshi, pickled plum, and wrap both of them in seaweed before sprinkling them with sesame seeds.

When Levi sees the onigiri he practically squeals with delight. “MC! Did you really make these for me? These look just like the ones Ruri-chan’s human classmate made for her when they went on their school trip!”

He takes tons of pictures but refuses to eat the onigiri, saying that he’s going to keep them safe forever. Only when you promise to make them for him whenever he wants does he take a bite, munching happily.

Satan

For Satan, you roast some chicken, carrots, and potatoes in the oven with rosemary, thyme, and garlic for seasoning. With the drippings from the chicken you make a quick gravy to go on top. 

You laugh at how proper Satan looks, sitting with his legs crossed on the picnic blanket and using his knife and fork to eat delicate bites of his meal. He closes his eyes after a mouthful, something he only does when he’s really enjoying his food.

He reaches over to gently stroke your cheek. “This is absolutely wonderful, love. Thank you for cooking.”

Asmodeus

For Asmo, you make penne pasta with grilled shrimp. The combined mixture of tomatoes and heavy cream in the sauce make a lovely pink color, and you garnish with fresh basil and grated pecorino cheese.

Asmo practically lets the food go cold because of how many pictures he’s taking. “Darling, this is stunning! So cute! Will you cook other things for me too so I can post them on my Devilgram?”

Once he finally takes a bite of his meal he showers you with compliments, saying how impressed he is with your skills. He gives you a quick kiss on the cheek for your efforts. 

Beelzebub

For Beel, you make a Shepherd’s Pie in a large casserole dish, usually meant for serving dinners. You brown and season ground beef and combine it with corn, peas, and carrots. The mixture is topped with creamy mashed potatoes and grated cheese before being baked in the oven to a golden brown. 

You hope the meal is hearty enough to satisfy Beel. And even though you’ve seen him eat before, you can’t help but watch in amazement as he practically inhales the whole thing, even though it’s still quite warm.

He smiles at you and rubs his stomach. “MC, this was really good. Will you make more for me next time?”

Belphegor

You know Belphie is going to be asleep for most of the picnic. It would be difficult for him to overcome his sleepiness with the warm weather and cozy atmosphere. You make him a simple smoothie with blueberries, bananas, almond milk, and honey.

He takes a few sips gratefully before laying his head on your lap. He practically purrs as your thread your fingers in his hair and lightly scratch his scalp.

Before he drifts off to sleep he looks at you and whispers "Thanks, MC. You always take good care of me."

The brothers are horrified to learn that because of how much effort it had taken to prepare all their meals, you didn't have any time to pack anything for yourself. They take turns feeding you bites from their meals and everything is washed down with glasses of iced peach tea and strawberry lemonade. Feeling the wind in your hair and hearing the rustling of the leaves in the garden you close your eyes, feeling utterly happy and content.

[apparentlyaswarmofbees]

Breakfast in Bed With Your Demon Brothers

.

Which, did not end up how I expected but I have no regrets-

.

Lucifer

You really think this man wouldn't try to get you to have breakfast in bed whenever possible as a way to show how much he is actually a disaster and really wants your attention and love no matter what?

And dear lord he always looks so smug and proud whenever he does it he is such a fucking loser.

And he goes "I just though I should treat you to something"

You ain't foolig nobody Lucifer, we all know you're only spoon feeding your dear human because you're already in too deep and you definetelly spent the entire week analysing their breakfast food choices and morning patterns just so you could make this whole thing perfect.

Alternativelly, you honestly can't tell me you had 8 full hours of sleep if you manage to catch Lucifer before he gets off his bed.

The sight of him going

Makes whatever sacrifice worth it though.

It doesn't matter if you're only pampering him to get off from being punished for some minor incident he not yet knows about or for the goodness of your heart, this man is a simp and you will get him in a good mood no matter what.

Also he definetelly is making you two share the same coffee because he is A LOSER AND HIS HEART ACTUALLY SKIPS A BEAT AT THE POSSIBILITY OF AN INDIRECT KISS.

.

Mammon

Either he broke something of yours or he is just being cute and making you breakfast in bed because you or someone or something mentioned it at some point as something romantic to do.

This one has no filter though, he will confess he watched your morning patterns quite closely for a few days in a row so that he could make the whole thing perfect.

Which will probably make you go

His stalking self aside, feed him part of your breakfast, do it. He gets so happy. Just watch out with mentioning indirect kisses as his brain may actually tell him to scatter and he will be out of your bedroom in 1 and a half second while screaming. It could actually be a good reference to learn about the Doppler effect.

Alternativelly, do you know how smug this man will look if you make him breakfast in bed?

Depending on the day he will either start going on and on about how you're such a good human for bringing the great Mammon breakfast (which you will have to forcefully feed him the food if you want him to shut up or the food is going to get cold) or he will be so happy he will just dig right in with such a big smile.

It's a picture worthy sight I'm telling you.

And you guys will definetelly be running late no matter the situation and Lucifer's voice could also be a good reference for the Doppler effect as both of you probably choke on your food at the imminent sound of doom saying 'MAAAAAAAMMMMOOOOOOOONNN'

.

Leviathan

Jokes on you, if one of you are getting breakfast in bed, both of you are getting breakfast in bed.

Why? Because the only time you will have enough time for that is if you two pull an all nighter together.

This boy is constantly fighting for the Late 4 School Crown with Belphie you really think there would be enough time to settle the things on his table, have him sit down and not make a mess on his floor as he tries to drink from his coffee, eat from the food, put on his shirt and try not to trip as he puts on his shoes with only his feet at the same time?

This is why his RAD uniform is a mess.

So yes you two will be having a very dead inside but worth it breakfast together after a full on all nighter either in his bedroom or on yours provided either by Beel or Satan.

Well, it's less a breakfast in bed and more breakfast on the floor but it's definetelly a fun experience.

Specially because Levi will be too drunk on sleep to be flustered when you guys need change into your uniforms so you do it together.

Which will probably lead to you guys accidentally putting on each others clothes and need to take a second to actually process it like

Before pulling it out and giving to each other in a hurry.

It's the only time Levi isn't late.

.

Satan

Another piece of shit who will make you breakfast in bed because he is a loser but he is a much more acceptable loser since he doesn't try to hide his cheesy romantic self under several onion layers of pride.

It's something you will probably get used to because canonly he surprisingly feels like doing nice things for others (read as: you and maybe the rest, Lucifer doesn't count) when he is in a good mood.

And there definetelly is cat decorations, what do you take him for?

Latte? Cat. Pancake? Cat. Plate? Cat. Napkin? c A T.

See what I'm implying?

Do the same for him.

Hell, sleep in cat themed pyjamas if you must and serve him his breakfast while still wearing it.

The image will not get out of his head for the entire day and he will make a

Face whenever he steals a glance at you.

Also there's a high chance he will already be in the middle of changing when you get in his bedroom so believe me when I say the aesthetically messy look of his no fully buttomed shirt and partialy styled hair is quite the energy boost.

.

Asmodeus

Breakfast in bed?? In this economy??

He makes sure to warn you beforehand so that you don't worry and relax. Maybe even sleep again so that you can get extra fan service by having him wake you up himself~.

Yes you will have time to sleep again do you know how long it takes for him to get ready in the morning????

Thankfully he gets up earlier than usual so that you have just enough time to eat, get ready and not be late. Not to say you won't almost be late.

Do not warn him if you're the one bringing him breakfast though, because someone is definetelly not only going to horny jail the moment you open his bedroom door but also getting a 3 hour lecture while sitting on your knees in front of Lucifer for literally appearing only at the last class of the day.

So yes, surprising Asmo while he is going through his usual morning routine is the safest way to go, not that the other option isn't safe as well, but honestly, Lucifer's lectures could probably give brain damage.

.

Beelzebub & Belphegor

They're a package deal and you know it.

The usual is having Beel bring you and Belphie not only breakfast but dinner and many other snacks in bed whenever he can.

He canonly went all around devildom buying several ammounts of food just to share with both of you???

He would definetelly be so happy if you and Belphie decided to bring him a breakfeast to eat in bed instead.

Seriously it's the best way you are 100% sure of getting bear hugged by him. And even then he still shares, or at least tries.

He's so precious like

And when it's for Belphie?? It's such a ride.

First off you have to find him first and wherever he is can range from normally snuggled under the covers of either his shared bedroom's bed or his attic's bed to being fucking perched on the damn chandelier.

And there will be definetelly a struggle to actually wake him up.

But once he does and gives his usual sleepy yawn and sees all the food you guys brought so you could have breakfast together??

He's soft and definetelly more awake than usual.

[indiavolowetrust]

The Obey Me Boys as RPG Bosses: Frostheart

CHAPTERS: Prologue + Beelzebub and Belphegor , Asmodeus, Satan, Leviathan, Mammon, Lucifer, ??? (YOU ARE HERE), ???, Endings

You are one of many hunters in a land cursed with everlasting winter. You yourself have become rime-touched after an attack by your fellow corrupted hunter, an incident that left you traumatized and lame. Even your hunter’s guild has resigned you to a life of mere cleaning and upkeep duties, and you have spent the last seven years in the depths of your guild’s archives.

Then the White Witch spirits your little brother away into her castle, taking with her the only family you have ever known. Armed with your trusty hunting knife and bow – and aided by your senior hunter, Simeon – you set off into the rime-cursed lands to find Luke and end the White Witch’s reign once and for all.

**Very loosely based on The Snow Queen by Hans Christian Andersen.

Word Count: 2,369 words

TW: Blood, Violence, Gore

[???]

Despite the spread of the curse, you find that your skin grows numb at his touch. His hands -- his perfectly carved, crystalline hands -- cup the sides of your cheek with a strange tenderness, his fingers tracing the soft line of your jaw. A gentle sort of scrutiny. Then there is the matter of the man himself: his form appears to have been carved from ice, translucent as he is, and the smile that graces his delicate features shows no sign of cracking the surface of his skin. An ice sculpture brought to life, it would seem. While you’ve heard of the strange corruption that encompasses the White Witch’s realm, you would have never expected it to procure such a being.

The White Witch’s subjects have only ever attacked you. You had fought them off again and again, nearly losing your life every encounter -- and yet you can’t help but feel as if something is missing from the recollection. As if something dear and important has been torn away. You must have an audience with the White Witch, yes, but why? What could have compelled you to undertake such a dangerous journey? Why does your heart feel so hollow?

Stay away, some buried part of your conscience whispers. Your rime-touched eye discerns only an emptiness where his desires should be, the curse somehow barring you from looking within him. He’s --

“What a joyous day!” he cries, pulling you into a frigid embrace. “We’ve been expecting you, my dear. Oh, and don’t mind the castle guards -- I can always conjure up some more.”

You only blink up at him when he finally lets you pull away, confused. While it is nice not being attacked for once, you must have an audience with the White Witch. You try to make the demand in the most polite manner you can muster. Whatever reasons you may have for coming here -- you’ll certainly remember them on the way to the throne room, won’t you?

He only gives you a bewildered look. “You’ve had quite the journey, my dear! I’ll not have a guest see Her Ladyship in such an exhausted state.”

His name is Michael, you learn. While he handles many tasks in the castle -- almost too many, he says in a jesting tone -- taking care of the White Witch’s guests is highest priority. They don’t receive many guests, after all. You are led through massive halls carved from ice, pass windows and walls draped with expensive tapestries, and walk beneath cupolas adorned with reliefs of various animals. Images of serpents, oxen, crows, and more are scattered about the place. It is all you can do not to gawk openly at the sheer opulence.

You are whisked away by servants before you can protest. The ice-carved handmaidens draw a warm, rose-scented bath for you, washing away what feels like weeks of blood and grime from your skin. The clothes that have been set out for you have been sewn from fine silk, the sleeves trimmed with white fur, and it takes no less than a moment for you to note just how perfectly tailored the garments are. As if you are a mere doll, you can’t help but think. The thought settles like lead at the bottom of your stomach, an inexplicable, deep-seated worry making itself known.

Yet your misgivings are completely dispelled an hour later.

You’ve never seen such an array of fine dishes. Calf’s heart in cream sauce, pan-fried liver served with mushrooms, and cold slices of veal. Caramelized onions atop minced beef, grilled lamb with dry herbs, and a whole roast goose with golden skin. Crispy potatoes, egg-cakes, and tarts filled with root vegetables. Best of all, platters of stewed apples and berry compote topped with fresh whipped cream sit just to the side, waiting to be served. It is too much for two people to eat -- much less one person, judging by Michael’s lack of a plate -- but you don’t care. It only takes one encouraging gesture on his part for you to begin picking at the dishes, trying bits and pieces of everything. Each bite is more flavorful and perfect than the last.

A crystal goblet is placed in your hands halfway through the meal, its contents a clear, vaguely saccharine liquid. Mirrorwine, according to Michael. Some part of your conscience tells you not to drink it.

“Oh, there’s no need to be shy,” Michael assures you, handing out his own goblet for a servant to attend to. He raises it in your direction. “I believe it’ll do you some good, my dear. It is said that mirrorwine eases your aches and pains, whatever they may be.”

You wait for him to take a sip before you do -- only to find that it truly does lessen your bodily pains, just as he said it would. A single sip draws away the nagging soreness of your lame leg, and even the strain of carrying the crystalline limb seems to have disappeared. Michael gives you a knowing smile when you all but exclaim in astonishment, encouraging you to have more. If it is to your liking, he’ll call for a servant to fetch another bottle of it.

You take another long sip of the mirrorwine, feeling something like a knot unravel within you. Again there is that hollow sensation -- whereislukewhereissimeonhowcouldyouforget -- but you push it aside, enjoying the coolness washing over you. The carved chamber glistens, and Michael’s ice-like body seems to lose that strange, off-putting quality. There is only an unparalleled beauty when you look upon him, much to your surprise. How had it gone unnoticed before? How could you find fault within such a perfect being?

A third sip. A chill permeates your bones, runs its icy fingers along your spine, and embraces the confines of your weak body. You need to -- no, that’s not right. You don’t need to do anything. Why would you ever want to step outside of the castle again? You belong here. You’ve only ever belonged here.

A hand rests upon your shoulder. You look up to see Michael eyeing the empty goblet with amusement. “I would have never expected you to be such a carouser, small as you are,” he remarks.

You apologize out of embarrassment, but he merely waves it off. A gesture towards an ice-carved servant sends them scurrying out of the room. Another bottle of mirrorwine is to be served, it seems, but you don’t think you need another. Surely that would taking advantage of --

“Nonsense! You are an esteemed guest, my dear.”

A soft kiss is pressed to your brow -- a burst of winter, piercing and unyielding -- and your heart embraces the frost.

* * *

You hum happily as the comb passes through your locks, enjoying the sensation of the carved bone against your scalp. It is a wondrous thing to be tended to so well -- and by such a breathtaking creature, no less -- so you do your best to sit still. The crystallization of your lame leg seems to have spread, but Michael reassures you that it’s nothing to be worried about. It is merely a part of the process.

An ever-present feeling tugs at your thoughts at all hours of the day. You came here for something, didn’t you? You came here to see the White Witch. You must see the witch, and you do your best to remind Michael.

“But you aren’t ready yet, my little doll.” A frown graces his wonderful, perfect face. “You’re happy here, aren’t you? Do I not tend to your every need?”

He does! He does, it’s just that --

“Fret not,” says Michael, pressing a kiss to your cheek. Your thoughts scatter. “You’ll see her when you’re ready. And you do want to be ready, don’t you?”

You nod obediently.

* * *

You gaze upon your reflection in the bath. Has your skin always been so bloodless? So blue? Have your eyes always been afflicted with that strange color? You blink, and your eyelids move seamlessly against the layer of hoarfrost.

* * *

“That Luke of yours has quite the natural talent for baking, wouldn’t you agree?” Michael plucks a macaron from the display, eyeing it with an almost scholar’s interest. “No experience with such delicate ingredients, no training -- and yet he is still capable of such perfection. Isn’t that wonderful?”

You only give him a confused glance. Who is this Luke? Is he a new pastry chef?

“Oh, do forgive me, my dear. That little detail always slips my mind.”

An ice-carved servant enters the room, bows, and whispers something into Michael’s ear. You pout. While Michael always takes his leave at this time, can’t he spare you just a second longer? As if sensing your thoughts -- or perhaps only expecting them, given how he’s learned nearly everything else about you -- he presses a kiss to your temple, promising to return in a moment. That intoxicating chill fills your body once more, and you let out a sigh of satisfaction.

You peruse the options on the table before you. Berry compote seems a bit too sweet to accompany the tea, as are the crepes. The rice pudding is beholden with a bit too much salt, the lemon custard has too little rum, and you’ve had stewed apples too much recently. Your gaze draws to a strange loaf on a plate on the far side of the table, and you ask a passing servant to identify it for you.

“That would be rye bread, miss,” says the ice-carved servant. “Shall I take it away for you? It is most unsightly.”

You were merely curious, you tell her. There’s no need to remove it just yet.

You as you pick up the loaf, turning it over in your hands. The bread is the color of spruce bark and almost as dense, its insides studded with seeds. While you should find it unsightly -- Michael tends to place appearance over taste when it comes to dishes -- you find that you can find no fault in it. There is only a strange sense of nostalgia.

You’ve lost something, haven’t you?

You tear off a piece of the bread with care, staring at it for a moment. Waiting. The seeds crack against your teeth when you bite down.

* * *

He smells like flour, you think, but it’s a nice smell. A comforting smell. The blizzard howls outside, Luke shivers and burns beneath his blanket, you haven’t eaten in days -- and yet you can’t help but be comforted. The baker’s eleven year old son holds you close as he wraps another one of his father’s spare blankets around you, bundling you up. Despite that, the tears still run hot and unending down your cheeks.

Stop being a crybaby, you’re seven! You’re supposed to be a big girl now! You scold yourself over and over again. How’s Luke gonna see you as his real big sister if you can’t even stop crying?

“Don’t cry, it’s okay,” he soothes you. “Everything’s going to be okay. I’m not going to leave you.”

But everyone’s already gone! Mama’s gone, Luke’s parents are gone, and now there’s no one left! If it weren’t -- if it weren’t for that stupid witch and the rime and the monsters, then --

The baker’s son only hushes you again, pulling the blanket tighter around you. You sniffle. You can stay and hide here in his family’s shed, according to him -- but how much of what he said is true? How do you know he won’t be dragged away into the woods like everybody else? How do you know he won’t just leave? The baker’s son rocks you back and forth for a few minutes before finally pulling away. There’s something he needs to get for you, apparently. Something that you’ll like.

The baker’s son returns a few minutes later and hands you something wrapped in cloth. A burnt, uneven loaf sits within it. Despite your hunger, you can’t bring yourself to want it.

“Made it myself this morning,” he says, beaming with pride. “It’s burnt, but I’m pretty sure it’s still good. I can bring more stuff tomorrow.”

You thank him, trying to discreetly wrap it up again -- but a quick glance in his direction tells you that’ll hurt his feelings. Your teeth scrape awkwardly against the burnt loaf, sinking into a particularly crunchy, scorched spot, and you try to chew as politely as you can.

He smiles.  “Well, what do you think? Good, right?”

You nod wordlessly. Your mouth is sore enough to take your mind off crying, at least for now. 

His name is Simeon, you learn. His name is Simeon, he smells like flour, he’s a terrible baker, and he promises he’ll be one of the best hunters ever. Luke is four and loves listening to his stories when Simeon can sneak away for a night. You get used to Simeon’s terrible rye bread at some point, because you would do anything for the people you love. You would do anything to protect them, even if that means telling them their rye bread is good when it nearly breaks your teeth.

* * *

The tears carve their way down your cheeks, cutting through the layer of rime. Your tea cup lies shattered on the ground, the contents spilled against the icy floor, and the body is horribly, unbearably cold. It is only then that you realize just how thin your clothes are: the silk raiment that Michael has dressed you in is paper-thin, your feet are covered only by a pair of woolen slippers, and there is no cloak in sight. Your supplies are gone.

The crow-beast had taken your dearest, most fond memories in exchange for freeing Simeon. Simeon had been let go, you remember, but where had he gone afterwards? Where exactly is Luke and what have they done to him? That ice golem -- how long has he bewitched you? How much longer do you have until the curse of the rime takes hold of you once more?

The door creaks open. Michael, the doll-maker, has returned. A knife sits beneath one of the platters at the table.

Tip: You are fighting [Michael, the Doll-maker]. Bide your time and pretend to be spellbound until you have an opening. You have only one chance.

[NEXT: ???]